Place your bets, Part II

Since his birthday has been decided (pretty much), I thought we'd do a poll to see how much you think this little stinker will weigh. I'll even post a picture of my tummy to assist in the guessing.

These are from today (one day shy of 38 weeks).

Post it notes

shhhh! here are all of us culprits...don't tell!

Post it notes are so fun!

My morning...

Suck. Suck. Suck.

This morning ended up fitting somewhere right in there.

My OB appointment was great, though. She still won't *check* me. My bp was good, protein, too. He did fine on the NST. No weight gain on my part. I measured at 38 weeks (that's my girth). Which is good, since I will be 38 weeks on Saturday. Also, we officially scheduled the c-section for 8 am on the 10th! Yeah! I get to know plans!

I saw my pregnant buddy, Amber at the doctor's office. We chatted and compared pregnancy notes. SHE gets to meet her little girl on the fifth! (green jealousy monster approaches! Watch out!)

Then, I paid $650 at the hospital...to cover my 20% of a v-birth. I'll settle up after Owen's here.

THEN, I went to do the sonogram. I left crying. No. Nothing is wrong with Owen (except that his kidneys are still dilated and I can't do anything about that). I had a different technician. HE was not gentle. I HURT after the sonogram. That's not right. Plus, with my hormones on overdrive, there was no chance of me NOT crying. He was impersonal, and hot (not the sexy kind, either. The he's-a-big-black-man-type ... and by big I mean large...therefore his temperature is elevated.). Thank goodness my dad was there with me.

On good notes: Owen is doing great (other than the kidney thing we can't do anything about). He's head down (AGAIN), and pretty far in there (for as hard has the technician had to push on his head and my pelvic region - OUCH!). He's measuring in at about 7 pounds, 4 ounces. Nice size. I was going to try to remember the length of his femur (thigh bone) so I could compare it. But, I have pregnancy brain - and I forget. But, it's so awesome.

Just 12 more days...I can hold him, and kiss him, and smell him, and nurse him, and love the way he looks in my husband's arms.

Tears are flowing freely. More later.

No change

My blood pressure was 130/80. Trace protein = good. No swelling. Lost 3 pounds. (nothing to worry about, Jenni.)

She said, "you're not giving me a reason to give you an early baby. See you Thursday."

So, I walked the mall for about an hour and a half. Sweated my booty off. Ate Taco Bell for lunch. Now, I'm pooped. I've got some pressure down south. But, I'm sure it's nothing, as he was head down, but "floating." Stinker.

14 days. (or less, if you count the fact that he'll either be scheduled to arrive at 6 am or noon.)

The HATE word

Hate is a strong word. I don't like that word. Especially when my darling three year old uses it to express himself towards me.

He was overly tired. We were getting ready for nap time and I was teasing him about putting away his toys so we could snuggle. It was all in the fact that I said I am going to go snuggle now...nah nah nah nah nah nah. (imagine 3 year old taunting).

Then, he said it. "I hate you, Momma."

I was crushed. And pissed. And sad. And I decided it was lesson learning time. I calmly asked him to come here (to the bathroom).

I grabbed the bar of soap. Insert yikes comments here. He is crying and yelling the whole time. We've talked about saying bad words and getting the soap treatment. I put the soap in his mouth and discussed with him the fact that saying I hate you Momma was just like saying I don't love you Momma. How that couldn't be true. I don't think he ever put his tongue on the soap, but I did scrape it along his top teeth on the way out. While he's still crying, but calming down, we continue the one-sided discussion. When I see the flicker of understanding in his baby-blue eyes, I ask him to step up on his little step and help him rinse out his mouth about 10 times, until he says he can't taste it anymore.

Then, he apologizes and we snuggle. He falls asleep about 10 minutes later with his arm wrapped around my neck.

I know he loves me. I love him more than he'll ever know. More than I'll ever be able to express to him. But, THAT was hard. And I think the lesson might even be learned. Maybe.

Girl time

I relish the girl time I get. It may wear me out so much I MUST take a nap, afterwards, but I do love my time with adult female friends.

Last week I spent time with a good friend of mine and her three children. It was such a blessing to spend quality time with another adult female face.

Yesterday, I was at school for 3 hours. Why? Just 'cause. The excuse was I needed to sign for my pretend pay stub. But, in actuality, it was so that I could get away from the TV, books, games, movies and walls of my house. I tire easily at just laying around. AND, I miss women-folk. My little miracle will be here in 17 days, no matter what. AND I CAN'T WAIT!!!

Today, I am dropping off Caleb with a friend's husband (they have two boys about the same age as Caleb) and us women are going to get a pedicure, again. I am looking forward to this so much!

I'll post some pictures later...I might even go buy new shoes. Just maybe. In the mean time, I think I'll go "do" my hair and slather on a bit of makeup. Just for fun. Yeah!

Like a record, baby...

He's spinning, right round, baby right round, like a record, baby...etc.

Owen decided that head down was not cool. He's now breech - but sideways. This explains why I was so uncomfortable last night. Why I woke up every two hours. Why I had heartburn like never before. Why I don't have that pressure down south.

My doctor said that if he remained this way for the c-section, she could TRY to move him. OUCH. If he didn't move, that would make the c-section incision a bit longer. GREAT! So, from hip to hip?! Just kidding.

Ouch.

EEEK! I answered the door

My doorbell doesn't work... for most people (It always works for Jenni, though). :)

I heard voices outside of my open front door... and checked on it. I thought maybe I was just being paranoid.

Nope. It was THEM. Two very sweet missionary boys from the Mormon Church. I listened and said no thank you. But...

The mosquitoes decided that today I was lunch. OWIE!

Just thought I'd share.

3 more weeks

At my appointment today, we penciled me in for a c-section on June 10th. That's 3 more weeks, people!!! My bp was 128/80 and protein was good. I had gained 5 pounds - but the scale is a liar...in my opinion...since my scale at home showed -2 pounds. (yes, it was before breakfast and before I drank two of my huge things of water....but STILL!) Owen is reacting great at the NST - non-stress test. He IS head down - but she can wiggle his noggin, so he's not in the birth canal, yet.

I have appointments scheduled now through June 5th. My doctor laughed at me and asked if I was a control freak? I said. NO! I just like things to happen on my timeline. LOL! She knows me, huh?! I told her that since she said she'd only deliver me early IF my bp was high or something else was wrong that what I heard was, "walk a lot and eat salty stuff, right?" No. that was her response. but, THREE MORE WEEKS?! Geez.

HE certainly has a plan for us... and baking this little bun to well-done and good kidney function must be part of it.

Shower

Today was my shower. It was such a nice gesture. Four of my buddies spent time, money, and poured their hearts into the shower. I am truly blessed to have such great friends. While not too many people remembered about the event, I had a great time. Afterwards, I came home and took a nap with my big boy. He's still out, right now. So, wanna see some pictures? Okay.

The spread: YUM!!!

The Cake. Cute! (and tasty!)

Me.

My charming hostesses - and me.

Ouches

I am starting to hurt a bit. I'm uncomfortable and feeling pressure down south. I've been a VERY good girl today, and have been actually laying down IN BED almost all day. HMMMMM... maybe I will get my May 19th baby? Shhhh! Don't say it too loud!
- - - edited - - -
Yah...I don't think anything is happening. I think I was getting excited over nothing. Sorry to disappoint.

Good day

Today's appointment was short, quick and to the point. Blood pressure was 130/76. Some protein in the ole' urine. I was only on the non-stress monitor for 10 minutes. He did GREAT!

Then, I went for the sonogram/ultrasound. The poor technician had a bad tummy ache and had to get up to leave half way through the ultrasound to take care of "business." She apologized up one side and down the other...and for my wait... this is what I got:


Looks like he's blowing a bubble. Cute!

This is a profile view of the right side of Owen's face. You can see his eye socket, nose, cheek, and upper lip. Can you believe the pudgy cheeks?! He weighed in at 6 lbs, 12 oz! What a chunker! He's sucking on his hand, here. The void where his brain should be is there because he is SO far down, like IN my pelvis. There is not really a void. It's just because this is a 4-D image. Did I mention I am ready?!

Yeah, well...

So, at my appointment today it was all good news.

BP was 122/78. No protein. Owen responded well and is moving much.

I asked if we could schedule his delivery. She said, sure, around 39 weeks. That's another four weeks, people.

While I am grateful that things are going well, I really want to hold him in my arms. My vote was going to be for Monday, the 19th. But, now we're talking another month.

I ... am... so... bored!

Place your pennies...

So, I guess it's time to guess when you think Owen is going to make his appearance. My sister made a comment, yesterday...and it got me to thinking... When do you think Owen will make his appearance? I am over 35 weeks. He's been measuring 2 weeks ahead. I had Caleb, via C-section, at 37 weeks.

By the way, my sister's vote is for Thursday, May 15th. (that's this Thursday). I'll check back later and tell you my vote. Happy betting!

Mothers and Moms

I must confess this is not my own. I got it in an email...and I had to pass it on. Bring a hankie, and Happy Mother's Day.

This is for the mothers who have sat up
all night with sick toddlers in their arms,
wiping up barf laced with Oscar Mayer
wieners and cherry Kool-Aid saying,
'It's okay honey, Mommy's here.'
Who have sat in rocking chairs for hours on end
soothing crying babies who can't be comforted.

This is for all the mothers who show up at
work with spit-up in their hair and milk stains
on their blouses and diapers in their purse.

For all the mothers who run carpools and
make cookies and sew Halloween costumes.
And all the mothers who DON'T.

This is for the mothers who gave birth to
babies they'll never see. And the mothers
who took those babies and gave them homes.

This is for the mothers whose priceless art
collections are hanging on their refrigerator doors.

And for all the mothers who froze their buns on
metal bleachers at football or soccer games
instead of watching from the warmth of their cars.
And that when their kids asked, 'Did you see me, Mom?'
they could say, 'Of course, I wouldn't
have missed it for the world,' and mean it.

This is for all the mothers who yell at their kids in the grocery store
and swat them in despair when they stomp their feet
and scream for ice cream before dinner.
And for all the mothers who count to ten instead,
but realize how child abuse happens.

This is for all the mothers who sat down with
their children and explained all about making
babies. And for all the (grand)mothers who
wanted to, but just couldn't find the words.

This is for all the mothers who go
hungry, so their children can eat.

For all the mothers who read 'Goodnight,
Moon' twice a night for a year. And then
read it again, 'Just one more time.'

This is for all the mothers who taught
their children to tie their shoelaces before
they started school. And for all the mothers
who opted for Velcro instead.

This is for all the mothers who teach their sons
to cook and their daughters to sink a jump shot.

This is for every mother whose head turns
automatically when a little voice calls 'Mom?'
in a crowd, even though they know their
own offspring are at home -- or even away
at college -- or have their own families.

This is for all the mothers who sent their kids
to school with stomach aches, assuring them
they'd be just FINE once they got there, only
to get calls from the school nurse an hour later
asking them to please pick them up. Right away.

This is for mothers whose children have gone
astray, who can't find the words to reach them.

For all the mothers who bite their lips until they
bleed when their 14 year olds dye their hair green.

For all the mothers of the victims of
recent school shootings, and the mothers
of those who did the shooting.
For the mothers of the survivors, and the mothers
who sat in front of their TVs in horror,
hugging their child who just came home from school, safely.

This is for all the mothers who taught their
children to be peaceful, and now pray
they come home safely from a war.

What makes a good mother anyway?
Is it patience? Compassion? Broad hips?
The ability to nurse a baby, cook dinner, and
sew a button on a shirt, all at the same time?
Or is it in her heart?

Is it the ache she feels when she
watches her son or daughter disappear
down the street, walking to school alone
for the very first time?

The jolt that takes her from sleep to
dread, from bed to crib at 2 A.M. to put
her hand on the back of a sleeping baby?

The panic, years later, that comes again
at 2 A.M. when she just wants to hear
their key in the door and know they
are safe again in her home?

Or the need to flee from wherever she is
and hug her child when she hears news
of a fire, a car accident, a child dying?

The emotions of motherhood are
universal and so our thoughts are for
young mothers stumbling through diaper
changes and sleep deprivation...

And for mature mothers learning to let go.
For working mothers and stay-at-home mothers.
Single mothers and married mothers.
Mothers with money, mothers without.

This is for you all. For all of us...
Hang in there. In the end we can
only do the best we can. Tell them
every day that we love them. And pray
and never stop being a mother...

'Home is what catches you when
you fall - and we all fall.'

34 weeks

This is from Sunday. That's 34 weeks, and one day. So, here are some photos for you. Enjoy.

Laundry at 3 am

Why? Because Caleb was still in our bed. Had a pull-up malfunction and wet OUR bed.

Brant decided last night would be a good night to leave Caleb in our bed after our "snuggle" time. (that's Caleb and MY snuggle time). He made up a little cozy bed for himself in Caleb's room. Who knows why. Maybe because Caleb is 35 pounds of dead-weight when asleep...and ... so who knows.

Anywho, Caleb woke up at 3 am saying the side of his pull-up was wet... as was his pajamas, the sheets, quilt, everything. So, I stripped the bed and am currently WIDE awake. Caleb is passed out in his own bed, dry pull-up, dry bed. I am sure that I will just stay up until the sheets are done and I can remake the bed and make up for the lack of sleep tomorrow...errrrr....today.

Nothing new

Nothing new to report from the appointments today. That is good.
(He's still measuring 2 weeks ahead, I am doing fine, bp was 100/70).

Except... I am such a planner. I would LOVE to know when this beautiful boy is going to make his appearance. Even knowing that it'll happen within a week's time period would be nice. But, it's not meant to be.

And, so I bake...knowing that this little miracle is going to be strong and healthy because of it.

Today's appointment

Today's appointment was good. Here are the stats:
Lost 2 pound since Thursday.
BP was 110/70.
There was less protein in the urine.
Owen did good on the non-stress test.

So, we go on Thursday for an ultrasound and another non-stress test.

So, maybe no baby this week, either. Hmmm.

It's FIVE am

And I am awake.

This is ridiculous.

My mind is working in over-time. And, Owen, is not taking bed rest as rest time... but, I'm not complaining.

I even took a warm bath last night, AND a benadryll... to help me sleep.

Out at 11:30, shot up at 3:30.

I guess this is God's, oh-so-fun-way, of telling me my FULL nights of sleep are nearing an end? He's preparing me for my blessing... and telling me to sleep during the day, right?

I've put off reading Jenny's latest two installments for today. I wanted to be able to do something with my mind while all of you friends are doing that work-thing.

I've also put off the two movies from Netflix. 27 dresses and Things to do in Denver When Your Dead. The last is my hubby's choice. I finally caved. Juno is coming either today or tomorrow.

Dad got me THREE Nora Roberts books. I'm halfway through the first. I will say that picking up reading her books again has *ahem* aided in nice dream sequences, and a longing for things *adult* that are against doctor's orders. *blush* ... it's about time for that!

Yesterday, I spent over 4 hours on the blasted computer typing in awards information. I over-did it. I know it...but I'm done. I hope. Thank the Lord for Sabrina. She's taking over and doing it without complaint. I just don't have the energy.

Well, I guess I could go wash my hair. Or finally grade those papers. Or not. Email me if you are bored. I'm sure I'll have the Internet up and web mail running ALL day. Thanks my friends, for keeping up with me.

How to say thank you?

I am not that good at etiquette. I am very appreciative and thankful, but don't quite know what to do. Some very special ladies I know are bringing my family dinners. I say thank you and we heartily eat up the vittles...but, I want to make sure that my thankfulness is obvious. I've got an idea of what to do with the dishes they will need returned. But, is it enough? Time is also a concern right now. I am supposed to be laying down (nearly all the time) and can't get out to get the items I might need to "refill" the dishes. I guess it could wait until AFTER Owen arrives...but that seems crazy, too. I guess, for now, a thank you and maybe a card of some kind will be in order...

Any thoughts?

5/2 Non stress test

All is well. So, hopefully no surprise appearance from Owen this weekend. But, you could surprise me...hint, hint. :)

Owen responded fine to the few contractions that I had during the non-stress test this morning. I had two pretty good ones...still didn't feel them, but you could actually see them on the monitor as contractions.

I was sitting up at one point, and started to get nauseous and dizzy. So, I had to lay down on my left side, again. The little stinker was probably on my vena-cava, again.

My blood pressure was good: 130/80. I'd lost a pound since Tuesday.

My next appointment is Tuesday morning, Thursday morning, and an ultrasound on Thursday, too. I'll keep you updated...but for now. My bed is calling me...and so is the Spiderwick Chronicle book #3. Ta-ta!

A funny from my seester

This was on her my space blog. The title was: "Why men shouldn't do laundry."

Please assist me in the punch line...should it be:

1. This gives a new definition to Clean-ex

2. I knew I should have taken the Kleenex out of the box before I stuffed my bra...and now look what happened?!!

3. Men shouldn't do the laundry, they always forget to clean out their pockets.... (is that a Kleenex box in Jeff's flight suit, or is he just happy to see me?)
the set up:

Only took about 20 min to clean it all up, out of the washer, off the floor, and then to start the load of laundry all over again......bless his sweet little heart! :OD

Washer 1 BOX OF KLEENEX 0

Good thing we buy Kleenex in bulk.

Escape

Say that word, again...but think "Finding Nemo."

That's better (ESSS-Cahp-ey).

:) Made you sound it out, huh?!

Brant came home today after trying to study for his Lab final. He offered to take me out to Albertson's. I wanted Dreft. Needed Dreft. WANT TO WASH TINY CLOTHES IN DREFT. So, I escaped...say it right: ess-cahp-ey-duh.

That was pure delight. Simple, pure delight. I was concerned, though. I could hear my heartbeat in my ears...just walking from the car to get a cart...you know, the old, fat, or pregnant people motorized kind.

But, I saw sunshine, and no bed for 15 minutes. Bliss, I tell you.

Anywho. Brant is taking a nap---on the ENTIRE bed...so, I am at the "Big" computer leaning back as far as is pregnant-ly possible.

And, smelling the sweet smell of dreft washing my baby's first (second, third-hand) clothes. Yum.