We Are Having A...

Okay, so I am just a couple of weeks behind with this but....

It's a Boy!

It took some doing, but my doctor finally managed to catch a clear view of the little busy body inside of me. I can not begin to tell you how excited we are. It is so strange and yet so wonderful at the same time to know who it is inside of you even before you have actually formally met. I can call my baby boy by name now, rather than the numerous pet names he has been given over the last few months.

Y'all, he gave us the cutest, funniest little show in the doctor's office. First, let me start by saying that I have a great doctor who has actually done an ultrasound every time we have been to her office so far. It's not the 3D that everyone has been telling us about for the last decade or so, but who cares. When you see your baby on the screen it is the absolute prettiest picture you will think you have ever seen. I tear up every time I see him. The first time we saw him, he was this little circle within a bigger circle with this amazingly beautiful heartbeat. The second time we saw him I was surprised again. That time he had little legs and a nose and eyes that we could make out even without the doctor telling us where they were. He even had one of his little arms brought up to his head. Again, his heart made the most beautiful sound for us, but because he looked so still and comfortable I guess I assumed we would always be looking at this still picture on the screen of him. Boy, were we wrong. This last time that we were there my doctor had just started the ultrasound when he moved. I can still hear Justin asking her if the baby had just moved. Y'all we had never seen him move and to see it for ourselves was just...AMAZING is the only word I have to describe it. We thought he would stop after that initial kick, but he proved us wrong. She had to continuously reposition her wand on my belly and each time he moved. He kicked. He hit. He is quite the athlete Justin thinks. I, on the other hand, have a strange feeling it was the ultrasound that was bothering him...maybe her pressing down on his space. He seemed more frustrated to me. I could not help but laugh as she tried to catch a clear picture. Yes, our son is already pulling me into his mischief apparently. When he wasn't moving, I was replaying the last few seconds in my head and giggling myself. I didn't mean to be trouble, truly I didn't. He was just so cute and I couldn't help but laugh a little at his surprising us so much with his acrobatics in there.

Since that last visit, I am caught up in hundreds of musings of what our baby boy will be like. I wonder if his little show was just a one time event and next time he will be a bit calmer or if he is about to begin 24 hour productions for us. I wonder if he will be the sweet, quiet baby we are told his daddy was or if he will be a bit head strong like...ummm...his mommy may have been. (Okay, so I still am.) I wonder if he will always be sweet and quiet or if he will be only until he is bothered by something and then he will become more determined in his wants. It's not that I want our children to be disobedient by any means. I want them to be well behaved and learn to listen so that they can eventually become productive individuals. At the same time I also want them to find their voices, learn to speak for themselves, stand up for what they believe is right. Not to say cookies for dinner or Lion King 24/7 or mud baths rather than bubble baths are noble battles I hope they will fight with us, but at the same time if what I saw really, truly was a glimpse into his character, then I don't want him to lose his fight. If he was irritated like I can't help wondering he was, then I have to consider he actually found a way to show it even if moving about blindly is his only form of communication. Provided the words, oh my goodness, I think we all would have gotten an earful. It was just the most amazing sight. 

I've seen babies before. I've even cried at the sight of a few ultra sound pictures in the past. My sister and brother were the most amazing images to look at in their day. They made every conversation fun to have and put on a great show with their kicks and jabs as they grew bigger and my mother sat down to let me watch. They have always amazed me, and they still do. Now there is a new image on the screen though and I am amazed all over again. The strangest part of it all is that he is mine and in me. Sometimes I get nervous about this part of the journey coming to a close soon (you know the fun hospital stuff), but something will always happen to fix those nerves. We will have a doctor's appointment and I will see him. I will feel something strange and wonder for hours on end if that wasn't him. He will add something to his menu of must-haves (Example- chili cheese footlongs from Sonic) and I can't help but laugh. We will find something new for his nursery. We will find a new outfit for him for next summer. I will think of holding him, of counting all of his little fingers and toes for the first time, of being able to touch him and kiss him and hold him safely in my arms and look at those pretty little eyes I know he will have. (Obviously this is all before my mother makes it into our room, then he will have to fend for himself. Let's just say I'm not the only headstrong one in the family.)

For the record- my mother was thrilled, surprised, but thrilled. My brother was stunned to silence, but has since been making the appropriate plans for his time with his nephew. My sister was stunned, at a loss for words for only about 5 seconds, but extremely excited. Oh, and also panicked about what to do with a boy. Ahem, we have a little brother. She was awesome with him. Justin's grandparents were extremely happy to hear and dug up one of Justin's old toys to give to us for the baby. Justin's daddy cried he was so happy. My daddy, my daddy still recovering from being sick the last few days, managed the strength to not only congratulate us, but point out that he had said it was a boy all along. My sister and brother will never recover their pride, seeing as Daddy will not allow it since he was right and they swore he was wrong. My poor mother gets to be around their antics all the time and I am sure she is making a valiant effort to steer their energies towards planning for their grandson/nephew rather than pointing out who was wrong and who was right. Thank goodness for her good humor because we never let anything go in my family. :)

So that is our news! Sorry I took so long. We are still working on his room and trying to build up supplies for him and learning to enjoy all this fun stuff pregnancy brings. Alas, another post. :) 

 

Girl or Boy?

After a crazy week of weather, it is wonderful to finish off the week curled up in pajamas eating chili dogs and failed Pinterest potatoes. My roasted cheesy potatoes ended up becoming a casserole dish. 10 years ago I would have had a meltdown over the mess. Now, I just pull out my pretty glass Pyrex dish and "improve" it. :)

Usually, I mope about Sunday nights. I dread the alarm clock in the morning and resent how quickly I fall asleep these days. (I miss being able to be productive late into the night- typing, folding clothes, sewing hems, reading. These days I can start yawning up a storm as early as 7 o'clock. Really!) This weekend has been great though and I am counting the days until Thursday. We went on a baby shopping trip yesterday. The most fun I have ever had shopping!!! I saw so many cute things, but without knowing girl or boy I had to resist. Just 4 more days. 4 more days and hopefully we will be able to find out exactly who we are shopping for. Until then, I keep hearing 1 question- "What do you want?". At this point, I really don't know anymore. Let me just think for a minute about what fun each one will bring (and maybe what trouble).

Girl-
I'll have hair to fix and outfits to match and nails to paint.
We can have matching aprons and bake cookies.
I will have a little girl to give my Barbies and Barbie house to.
Mommy/daughter talks
Pink anything!
We would have a little girl to love her daddy like I love mine.

Boy-
Our next babies will have a big brother. Personally, I would rather have a big brother over a big sister.
None of the drama that comes with girls. I don't know girls grow out of it to be honest. :)
I can dress our baby like a little gentleman.
One day I can decorate with all those cute rustic robot decorations I love at Target so much.
Someone to watch Transformers with his daddy.
Little boys and their mommies is one of the sweetest things.

Honestly, I just can't think of much. Both have their moments. Both have their strengths and weaknesses. Both can accomplish so much and both can play and be played with when they are little. Boy or girl, they will have their own personality and characteristics. Either one will be loved every day- good or bad days. I just don't know. I really think either one will be a wonderful edition to our family. In the meantime though, if they would like to kick Mommy a little harder, I am totally up for it. Everything I read says in between now and the next 6 weeks I should feel whoever this is inside of me. Sometimes I actually think I do, but I want so much to be certain.

So basically, I can not be depressed about the end of this week because-
A. This week (while pretty amazing) was nightmarish where poor driving conditions and early morning text messages from work were concerned.
B. I got to catch up on some sleep yesterday morning and still had time to buy some baby accessories.
C. Monday is one more day out of the way to finding out what name I can start using when I talk to Little Bit.

We finally bought a sleeper for the baby so they will be nice and safe between Mommy and Daddy.
Justin laughed at the wipe warmer, but I thought it was the neatest thing when my parents had my brother.

How about y'all. Does anyone have preferences where boys and girls are concerned? 
          

A Wintry-Mix Day

See that is what we have here where I live. Once every 10-20 years you get an actual snow day. In between that time however, we have lovely wintry mix days. It leaves schools certain that they should close and every other business in town completely confused as to what to do. For those of you that are used to snow and icy roads let me tell you, there are actually those of us who are not qualified for such days (at least not on the road).

All of that said, after having to drive home in heavy sleet yesterday at a whopping 10 mph, my butt (and the baby's) are home today. Thankfully, Justin can work from home during bad weather, which means I only have two family members to worry about driving in this mess. After stealing my favorite shirt from Justin's side of the closet (it was bigger, but the baby is correcting that) and slipping into my new maternity leggings a friend gave me last week, I am content to not be dressed up today. While we should have gone grocery shopping last week, the only thing we are at risk of running out of is caffeine free coke. I have 1 left. It is the last bubbly drink in the house outside of sprite, and after 6 weeks of drinking that and only that night and day, it will take a hefty chunk of money to make me drink another sip for awhile.

Days like today give me lots of time to think. While I used to pray for weather days like today as a little girl (always thinking it would keep Daddy home), I dread them as an adult. It doesn't exactly feel like a vacation and so it isn't super easy to enjoy myself because I feel like I shouldn't. Crazy? Well, so is the weather here.

On the plus side, as a first time pregnant chick, I have quickly come to realize why pregnant women hate advice. Because you hear too much of it and typically ask for only a little of it. If you thought you hated the advice about going to college, or dating, or planning your wedding, I suggest you take a deep breath and chow down on whatever makes you happiest because you will have to grin through it somehow. I am only three months in and I am about to run out of snacks and happy drinks to keep me smiling some days. If I didn't think my mother deserved a sainthood before, I tell you what- where do I go to nominate her now. Here is why.

In the first few weeks of nausea, I got advice on not overeating during pregnancy because it is (apparently) the worst sin you can commit during this nine month adventure. When I wasn't grinning through advice on overeating (which is impossible when all you want to do is keep down whatever you can possibly muster down), I was given sympathetic looks from both old and new mothers alike. The worst of it is when you realize apparently being a first time mom means you are the most ignorant being on earth and must not have known nausea was a possibility or the easiest part of pregnancy. How does it help me to hear things like "oh, wait until that 36 week visit" or "and then during delivery they...oh, well, you'll see.". For real, ladies, I have a mother of my own and she not only laughed the stork theory out the door, she made sure I was never left that clueless over babies. Needless to say, I love my mother. I LOVE my mother. Amidst the pitiful looks and "helpful" advice, I have found solace in my mother's texts and phone calls and visits. She doesn't baby me when I tell her I am nauseous. I receive the same "aww, baby" that I have heard and loved my entire life. She hasn't stuck her tongue out and rubbed her hands together menacingly while laughing and saying this is all payback for what she endured with me. She just listens and tells me she remembers and it usually gets better. Then she moves on to talk about the happier parts of being pregnant. She doesn't chide me about my diet (or lack thereof). She told me to feed the baby whatever he/she craves because God was only going to let me crave what they needed. (Apparently I have low blood sugar every day and am in need of antioxidents daily because Little Bit craves chocolate these days.) And when the baby made it clear chocolate is king three weeks ago, my mother didn't get onto me, but instead aided in the madness that is this baby's likes by sharing chocolate krispies she made at home. She even got Daddy in on it by buying me chocolate bars during a normal shopping trip. She has held her tongue when I go to the doctor and not questioned a word, and listens to everything I tell her as I replay each visit with her on the phone.

And, y'all, I know the books say make friends with recent moms, but let me just warn you, this doesn't always work perfectly in my experience so far. Sometimes, it is VERY helpful. You can get the play-by-play of what to expect at your next visit and what processes take place during delivery in your area. Books can only alert you to so much and then they seem to notate that you should check with your hospital to be certain. It is great to have someone reliable to ask beforehand, especially, if like me, you want an answer months before it even matters. That said, the downside can be a silent competition that you aren't prepared for, at least I wasn't. Doctors do different things with different patients, so your visit may not be exactly like your friend's was and the doctor may not recommend exactly what she did for her. Sometimes you choose to do things differently because some things may not matter as much to you or you may feel it is more important. At times, that reliable source may just seem a little irritated with what you are learning from your experience. All I can say is, don't let this ruin your special time. Justin has to hear me complain about this from time to time because it happens and I get upset and I have to vent to him or I'll just let it sit and fester. At least once I get it out, he puts me back on track and I can remember this is our time and our pregnancy and we have to do what we think is best. Plus, then I have my sister to talk to and then there is my mother who listens and cares and there isn't a chance of competition between us, so she is always happy to talk and always happy to listen and always happy to give advice when I ask her for it.

Somehow in the last few weeks, advice has skipped from pregnancy to child-rearing and I sometimes worry my mouth is going to get the better of me. Y'all, I am that person that considers tripping the child that runs off from their mom. I cringe listening to the yelling and arguing from the toddlers to their parents. Oh, and let's not talk about the kids that get up and run around the table at a restaurant. For real? I know I don't have kids, so technically I am not supposed to talk, but I feel I can because I was a kid once and I know my parents did not let me act like that. Did I get in trouble? Of course. Did I earn those noses in the corners, groundings, and occasional spanking? I most certainly did. Did I scream bloody murder during lab work at the doctor's office. Yes, but I am attempting every time to hide that from my nurses now. In all of that, I loved my parents and grew up to love them more. I trust them out of every other adult on earth. I know I can go to them with questions and they won't shove what to do's on my shoulders, but offer advice and suggestions and let me make the call. That said, I grew up with a strong dislike for anyone outside of my parents telling me what I can and cannot do. An even stronger dislike now is being told what our baby will be like. I know I won't be the perfect mom with the perfect house and the perfect attitude and perfect smile all the time. (I can dream though. :) )I know this little chocoholic baby of ours will not always be the giggling, cooing, adorable little angel I think they already must be. Still, I have high hopes for this baby and I already think our little one will be capable of so many great and wonderful things. (Granted if they are uncoordinated it is totally from their mommy and I am apologizing in advance.) I don't like being told to give up or give in. It drives me bonkers (for lack of a better word). I especially don't like being told to give in with my baby. 

The strange thing in all of this, even though I get so frustrated with the unwanted advice and so upset with what is said, in some ways it brings me closer to our baby. It makes me want to protect them all the more. It makes me more determined to push them in the right direction, to hold their hand, to keep my eye on them, to love them, to hug them, to kiss them good night, to get that Mommy-look down pat (oh, because we all know we needed that from time to time). It makes me realize more how much I want for them and how hard I want to fight for them to find it for themselves. It makes me want to cover their little ears and tell them every day not to listen to the madness their mommy is having to listen to. It makes me closer to my husband because I can't do this alone. It makes me need him more, in a new way than before. It makes me question what we think and what we talk about. It makes me trust him more and it makes me more grateful that he is so on board. It makes me grateful he is my partner in crime with this big step and where this little one will take us. It makes me pray more and it makes me pray harder, for things I didn't know to pray about before. It makes me beg and plead for what I thought I already had. It even makes me miss my parents more. I am already seeing a little differently what my parents always told me. I thought I understood, but I am understanding better already. It makes me grateful they fought so hard for us and did so much for us. It makes me grateful they taught us not to follow the crowd and reminded us daily not to believe everything we heard. It makes me love a whole lot more than before. 

Again, it is funny how someone so little can change so much even before they are here to see it all taking place.

                       

A Little Catching Up...

Every Saturday, Justin wakes up before dawn and goes to his office to accept a new challenge in his game. He leaves me to sleep for as long as I want. This morning was no different, accept for my hand resting on my growing baby bump. I looked at the empty spot beside me and had the most wonderful thought. Soon our Saturday mornings won't be so quiet and that baby bump won't be there below me, but instead beside me. I could picture the prettiest little face, head bobbing as it turned tiredly, one cheek marked red from where the sheet was wrinkled beneath, and their curls shining in the sunlight coming from their daddy's window. Okay, so it may be a year from now at least before Justin is up for playing again, or perhaps I should say that the baby may be willing to let him sleep so he can get up to play. I know it was a daydream. I also know that I won't likely be sleeping so late anymore myself, but I know that it wasn't that far off. This baby has already begun to change a great deal for us.

For nearly a year, Justin and I prayed for this little one together. I (always Mrs. Optimistic) worried he or she may never come. Justin has been a great support- never flinching, never showing doubt, always somehow wonderfully certain. Even the morning that we found out I can remember my choking on tears and surprise while he sat with unwavering certainty in the bed waiting. "I already knew." was the first thing he said (much better than the "I told you so." he could have offered me). When "morning" sickness hit the following morning in full force, Justin didn't flinch. He managed everything without one complaint or one joke at my expense. *On a side note- Morning sickness is a joke in itself in this house. From Dec. 17th until last Tuesday, there has only been 24/7 ALL DAY sickness- the kind like I can't remember before. It kicked me on my butt and laughed at me I'm pretty sure.* Back to my sweetheart though, Justin has been a trooper. He's treaded on our cold, hard floors to the kitchen in the dark for breakfast first thing every morning, made sure we were stocked up on anything I thought sounded good, and even used those smoothie skills I've been hearing about for two years to make me some supposed "Nausea-Free" smoothie pops. *Note to self- you can not believe everything you read on Pinterest.* He has marched through the freezing cold weather with me to our first two doctor's appointments. He has also seen his wife for the giant baby I warned him about- the one that hates doctors and thinks Advil should cure everything. He only laughed at me when he was eavesdropping on my nervous laughing and pathetic "joking" with the lab nurse, even though I did explain to him I was a devil child to too many of them when I was little and know now I should really attempt to stay on their good side. He has even attempted the art of keeping a dreadful patient occupied in the waiting room so I won't look so miserable, and he only smiles when he fails. In his defense though, no one, not even my parents, have ever truly succeeded in making me a better participant in the waiting room. I say all of this for two reasons:

#1. So that in a few months, while worrying over the big nothings that will come and go with delivery, I may reread this and remember how perfect and wonderful my partner in all of this has been all along.

#2. So that our baby will know how wonderful and loving their daddy is.

I have so much more to catch up on and say, but we are losing time and there is a nursery to be cleaned out. With morning sickness out of the way (I just can't say that without a smile), I should be a much better blogger for a while I hope.

I hope all of you have been doing well. I have a lot of catching up to do with you as well, I know!

   

We Couldn't Decide, So...