It's a girl!

Hi everyone - this is "Mr. December", DecemberBaby's husband.

24 hours of labour and 18 minutes of pushing later and we gave birth to a beautiful baby girl (6 lbs 14 oz). Mother and baby are doing really well. Since it is a bit early we weren't super prepared (you think we would have been). Oh well, we'll figure it all out and both our parents are around and ready to help.

Thanks to everyone for wishing us well!

STILL pregnant, day 256

Around midnight, I timed my contractions and realized that they were 5 minutes apart, lasting 30 to 45 seconds. I tried to sleep for a few hours, gave up, got back in the bath, and called my doula.

For the rest of the day I breathed my way through contractions that would have been excruciating if not for my doula's encouragement and instructions. at some points they were 4 minutes apart, lasting 1 to 2 minutes. But a change of position or activity would also change the pattern.

Finally, after 15 hours of contractions and no change in sight, we went down to L&D. Lumpy's fine, says the monitor. I'm also fine. I am contracting. But after 15 hours of hard work I'm only 1 cm dilated, 30% effaced, and really nowhere near the point at which they would admit me or even offer anything for the pain. What the fuck?

Apparently this is called "pre-labour". Excuse me, but nobody ever mentioned 15 hours of constant contractions *before* actual labor begins. Did I miss something? And how the fuck is this fair? I haven't slept in two days and may not sleep tonight, because we've been sent home without so much as a tylenol.

We've been warned that Lumpy may not come tomorrow, or anytime until his/her due date. I just hope these contractions don't continue until then.

Still pregnant: Day 255

Thanks for your concern and well-wishes. I feel a bit better, although I was unable to keep down most of my breakfast and lunch today. It felt more like morning-sickness puking than stomach-flu puking... and I felt fine again afterward.

Right now I'm dealing with an intermittent low backache and a lot of low pelvic pressure. After consulting with my doula we decided that I'm probably not in labour... but damn, it hurts. I'm going to get in a warm tub with some good music and a bottle of soap bubbles and see if all my carefully planned pain reduction techniques actually work.

Don't get all excited, folks. I'll make sure to post and tell you when it's time to get excited.

aftermath

24 hours after it started, the flu symptoms stopped... and replaced themselves with something even more painful - air pains. If I hadn't had serious air pains before, I'd have thought I was dying of a heart attack. After Mr. December fell asleep and was no longer available to burp me, I discovered that running a hot shower directly onto my upper back moved the gas around.

Trying to make the best of things, I reasoned that I now have major empathy for a baby who needs to be burped. Air hurts. No wonder babies cry inconsolably until you burp them.

Feeling like crap... what is this? - updated

Last night, very late, my stomach decided to start emptying itself of ALL its contents. In the most efficient way possible. I'll just say that it's good to have a bucket by the toilet just in case this happens. I tried napping on the bathroom floor, as it's a lot closer to the toilet than my bed is, but discovered that at 38 weeks pregnant the floor is just not comfortable. It finally seemed to let up after an hour... I showered and went back to bed.

I slept fitfully for about four hours and now my stomach is doing its thing again, minus the puking and with a little less urgency.

Why am I telling you this? Well, because I have no idea what this is about. My first thought was "early labour sign" but I'm not so sure, based on how high Lumpy is and all.

I have a regular appointment with my doctor at 11:15 today. I guess we'll see what's going on then.

ETA: The verdict is... stomach flu. Ugh. I'm sucking back popsicles and ice chips. If I can keep them down today, I get to eat tomorrow.

How long does it take?

Lumpy has SO not dropped. Today my elderly aunt commented that I'm carrying really high and she thinks it'll be another three weeks. I certainly have no evidence that anything has changed, in terms of how things feel, although I have been kind of PMS-crampy... but I've been that way for the last couple of weeks.

So, my question to those more experienced... how quickly can things change? Should I just hunker down and assume that we'll be going the distance here?


And for your amusement... two things that piss me off:

1. People who call me every day and casually ask, "how are you?" Folks, the jig is up. I know you're really calling to find out whether I've had the baby yet. If you're calling to ask, then the answer is still "I'm still pregnant, thanks. And you?" Believe me, as soon as Lumpy gets here it'll be broadcast on CBC (or its extended-family-grapevine equivalent). In the meantime, if you're calling to find out whether I'm in labor yet, just say so. The euphemisms are getting annoying.

2. People who make one of the following comments:
- "Oh my god, you're huge!"
- "Well, with that belly you look kind of fat."
- "Holy cow, look at you! you're enormous!"
Has nobody seen a pregnant woman before? Hello people, there's an entire person in there. Along with some fluids and gross stuff. What size did you expect me to be, huh? Whatever, go on telling me how huge I am. It's a great boost to my self esteem right now. Oh, and say it over and over again. It gets funnier every time.

I guess you could say I'm entering the bitchy final stage. If you stick around, you may get more bitter but funny posts, a la original decemberbaby.

To all of you...

Merry Christmas to those who are celebrating today.

To the rest of us... Happy "Go nowhere and do nothing" day!

Oh, and apologies to Reality for making her think that two posts in one day meant I was in labour. Sorry, but someone has to make up for the bloggers who barely post once a week... *ahem* but I won't mention any names, ok Reality? ;-)

Have a great day. If anybody needs me, I'll be busy nesting.

I think I found one

It even comes in colours that go with my Ik.ea Mammut furniture (the crazy-coloured kids stuff)!

A preview...

Know what pisses me off?

Went to Pottery Barn Kids on Saturday to look at the cribs and change tables. Lo and behold, I found one of each that I liked.

What's the catch, you ask?

The crib was $729 at the store. Online (the American site) the price is $499. The change table, which I'd have to buy at the store for around $500, is only $250 in the States.

For those of you who don't get my outrage, the Canadian dollar is pretty close to par with the American dollar right now. In fact, there were huge signs at PBK advertising that they had reduced the prices on their items to reflect the strong loonie (what we call our dollar). And yet... there's still a discrepancy of over $200 on these big-ticket items. What a crock!

If it wasn't the dead of winter, if I wasn't due in 16 days, I'd be hopping in my mom's van and driving to Buffalo to buy this stuff. Maybe I will anyway. First, though, I'm gonna talk to a manager at PBK here and ask what kind of a sucker they think the average Canadian is.

Thoughts?

My head is spinning... advice needed?

Today I went out to buy a change table. We knew what we wanted... one of those changing tables that has an integrated baby bath and is on wheels. But when I got to the store and looked at them, they seemed... flimsy. So I walked away and started looking at cribs instead.

Cribs. Where do I begin? I can't decide whether we'd be better off with a drop-side crib or something with solid sides. We're not really concerned about the crib being convertible, because we do plan to have more children and so the crib will get used as a crib for more than a year or two. Also, there's not room for a double bed (which is what you convert the crib to) in Lumpy's room. Not if we want the room to accommodate more kids.

So I don't know. Drop side? And what style goes with the IKEA crappy storage units we already have in there?

AAAARRRRGGGHHH. Crib shopping made me cranky. I think when Lumpy outgrows the sock drawer we'll just find a bigger drawer.

Anyhow, input on cribs would be appreciated. Specific mention of features, manufacturers etc would really help at this point.

37 Weeks

Lumpy is head down, but nowhere near engaged.

I've gained a crazy amount of weight this week, but my doctor is unconcerned - she thinks it's bloat from eating salty foods.

My blood pressure is fine.

Lumpy's hearbeat is the same as always.

Everything's ok. Now... we wait.

It's getting there... (reno update)

My house is slowly shaping up. The furnace room has walls now... very exciting. The plumber was here yesterday and roughed in the pipes for the downstairs bathroom. Lumpy's room received a fine sanding and an extra coat of paint to hide the crappy job that Mr. December and I did. My office floor is clear (a major feat, if you've ever seen my office) and I plan to work on the desk and credenza in a few minutes. Then I'll hang some pictures, rearrange the furniture (don't worry, it's all on wheels), and maybe add some lucky bamboo or something else that makes it peaceful and zen-like. Oh, and I think I'll mount a wall sconce (from our old bedroom) for some mood lighting. That should do the trick. I'll post pics when it's done.

I promise, before-and-after pictures will be displayed... just as soon as we're acutally finished. Everything is waiting for a few finishing touches. I hope we'll have time to finish before Lumpy appears.

Oh, and I've been memed... by a reader I didn't know I had! I appreciate the surprise readership and I will do the meme... probably tomorrow.

Happy Tuesday, folks!

Best. Birthday. Ever.

I turned 28 yesterday.

Synagogue in the morning, board games in front of the roaring fire, a nice long nap, and then a movie, dinner, and a round of glow-in-the-dark mini golf. I had a fabulous time. Best. Birthday. Ever.

People asked me what I wanted for my birthday this year. The things that came to mind were trivial... and I tried really hard to think of what I needed. I think it's a sign that life is good when all you really "need" are some fluffy white towels (to go with your new white bathroom) and a pair of fleece mittens.

heads or tails?

We went for an ultrasound today to check Lumpy's position. I'm proud to report that Lumpy has mummy's tendency to pull through at the last minute... we have a beautiful, head-down baby. True to genetics, I could feel Lumpy making some major movements just this morning... just in time.

I want to thank you all for your support and encouragement. I was thoroughly bummed on Wednesday, as you know. By yesterday I was feeling more like "que sera, sera" and willing to accept whatever needed to happen in order for Lumpy to be born. Today I'm elated.

I'm going to keep playing music in my pants, just to keep Lumpy's interest. We don't want enough flip-flopping to alarm my doctor every single week.

Fuuuuuck. (36-week checkup)

Lumpy is breech.

This is a bad thing. Nobody will do a vaginal delivery of a breech baby these days (probably for good reason, but gaaaa)... so if we can't get this kid to turn and stay turned, I'm looking down the barrel of a c-section. I do not want a c-section.

And the thing that really gets me is that Lumpy was head down two weeks ago. My doctor said that at 34 weeks, most babies who are head down will stay that way through to the end. Mine didn't. Do we need to have this conversation again? The one about how crappy it is to fall on the wrong side of the statistics?

Go ahead, tell me I'm being irrational. Tell me that at least I'm having a baby. Tell me that lots of women have c-sections and love them. Tell me that I'm blowing this waaaay out of proportion. But while you're telling me all that, pass the chocolate. I'm bummed.

Bummed because which part of "major abdominal surgery" sounds good to anyone?

I can't keep writing about this. I think I'm going to cry.

Oh, and on top of that, I gained 4 pounds in the last two weeks, and my uterus is now measuring 39 weeks. My doctor wanted to know if Mr. December and I were big babies. Gaaaa.

I'm completely healthy. Lumpy is completely healthy. I should be thankful. I am thankful. But I still think I'm gonna cry now.

Why am I...

... red in the face, huffing and puffing?
It started very innocently. My soon-to-be sister-in-law came over to help me with general nesting stuff. First we moved the white storage bench from Lumpy's room to my room, as a new laundry hamper. Beautiful. Then we emptied the bench in the front hallway (actually a children's chest of drawers) and moved it to Lumpy's room, under the window (note to self: don't forget to buy foam and fabric and make a cushion for said bench to become window seat). Then we looked at the front hall and I said, "gee, it seems so much bigger and nicer now. Let's finish off this hallway today!" We decided that the trunk which was serving as our coffee table would look much better in the hall as seating and storage. So we moved it. Then I moved the umbrella stand to the other corner. Turning around, we realized that there were lots of displaced shoes and nowhere to house them. I remembered a back-of-door shoe organizer we used to have, and off we went to find it. It was determined that we'd need some heavy duty hooks to screw into the door so that we could hang the organizer and put away the shoes.

Are you tired yet? I wasn't.

So then we went to the hardware store and to Linens and Stuff to find hooks and maybe a nice decorative ledge shelf for the front hall. Came back, installed both. By this point SIL had called it quits and gone home. I put the shoes away, threw out lots of garbage, swept the hallway floor, found some non-slip backing and put it down under the rug.

Then I turned around and looked at the living room. Total pigsty, partly from all the packaging that came with our stroller, carseat, and new storage bench. I attacked the boxes (collapsed and folded them and put them all inside the two biggest ones), then the garbage, then put away anything that didn't belong on the floor in our bay window (i.e. pretty much everything). Putting stuff away necessitated a lot of trips up and down the stairs... so when I finally came up for the last time, I was huffing, puffing and flushed. And here I am.

Makes sense. So why am I not wearing a shirt?
Well, I was so flushed and hot that I was afraid of overheating, which I've heard is bad for little fetuses. So I took off my shirt, and here I am.

Okay. But why am I sitting on the floor when there's a comfy couch right behind me?
Um, because we don't have any blinds or curtains on our living room window, it's dark inside, and folks can see right in. And I'm topless. So here I am.

Is there a point to this story?
I like stories.

Thanks, Homer. But seriously, is there a lesson to all of this?
Yes. If you feel the nesting instinct coming on, for God's sake, lie down until it goes away. Or try to drown it in chocolate. Otherwise you'll end up half naked, on the floor, sweaty and red, and not from anything good like sex.

Holy emotional hormones, Batman!

Today Mr. December and I are tackling a variety of tasks around the house, in hopes of finally finishing all those small projects we started. So far every single project has resulted in an argument, the climax of which involves me whining, "but I don't like it there. I want it over THERE." This argument has applied to ideas as stupid as moving a shelving unit in Lumpy's room to effectively block the closet door... because doing so would give us a nice, symmetrical furniture arrangement around the window. Can we say irrational?

Just spitballing here, but I think that nesting goes a lot more smoothly when the logical significant other is not home. They're usually too lazy to undo anything the crazy pregnant lady has done.

yeah, must be nesting...

I forgot to tell you, I scrubbed, painted, and organized the hall closet yesterday. I think it's nesting season.

We went to see an open house down the street, to compare their asking price with what we paid. All I can say is that I hope whoever buys that house knows what they're looking at. It's being flipped... the plaster on the walls is done very shoddily, the old (as in really old, they click on and off) light switches are still in place (really, how much does it cost to put on new switches that match the rest of the decor?), the mouldings and casings aren't nicely finished... need I go on? I can't believe they're asking more than we paid for this place. I pray that the purchasers aren't first-time homeowners getting ripped off. If all that surface stuff wasn't finished properly, who knows what's lurking behind the walls?

what I learned (about parenting) from my Dad

Today is my Dad's birthday. As I get closer to being a parent myself, I'm realizing how many lessons he's taught me about being a good parent. Thought I'd share them with you, too.

1. Hugs and affection make everything better. 'Nuff said.

2. If you're also teaching the right values, you can't spoil a kid by giving them things they want. Mum always accuses dad of spoiling us. The truth is, he was often the one to indulge us in what we wanted... but he was also the one to remind us to be respectful, and to consider others' feelings. By being generous with us, he set a great example so that we could learn to be generous towards others.

3. Don't let your kids get away with intellectual laziness. Anytime we used a big word, Dad would ask us what it meant. If we couldn't define it (even though we knew how to use it), he'd send us for the dictionary. Sometimes we flat-out refused - and then he'd go get it, and read us the definition. Same for questions about geography, history, etc. He never let us get away with not knowing. Thanks to Dad, I learned to use reference books and seek out answers instead of being content with only a little knowledge.

4. Sometimes it's best to say very little. When I first started dating Mr. December (at age 17), Mum wasn't convinced that he was right for me - and she was afraid we were getting too serious too quickly. While out walking with Dad, he turned to me and said, "it's really nice to feel that way about someone, isn't it?" That was his only comment, and it meant the world to me.

5. Be explicit about the connection between your family's values and your child's actions. If I cried about having 'wasted' my time playing at the grandparents' house instead of being with my friends, Dad would remind me what a mitzvah it is to honour your elders and to bring happiness to those who are lonely. If I got too far into bad-mouthing someone I didn't like, Dad reminded me of the Jewish laws against Lashon Hara. A phone call from my grade 3 French teacher (and my subsequent rant about what a bad teacher she was) prompted Dad to ask me if I knew the meaning of Derech Eretz and whether I was aware that we are supposed to respect our teachers' authority and position, if not their personal conduct. To this day I still think about my actions in terms of Jewish values and ethics.

There's much, much more... but I'm probably rambling, and you get the idea.

What's the most important thing you've learned from your parents' example?

Still here, still pregnant.

Lumpy isn't here yet, we don't do baby showers in my family, and our house is still filling up with baby gear and assorted crap, not to mention the boxes it all came in. For those curious about our eventual stroller decision, we went with a firstwheels stroller in aqua... just like a Bug.aboo, without the crazy price tag. I'll do a proper review once we've started using it.

I think nesting may be kicking in. Today I was determined to clean out our front hall closet... I got as far as getting all the stuff out of there, but the scrub brush and bucket of soapy water will have to wait until tomorrow. I'm thinking the closet would be a good place to keep the (folded) stroller and the carseat.

I've been getting what I think are Braxton-Hicks contractions. They don't hurt, it just feels like I'm doing a serious ab crunch - except that I'm not. I'm using them as a chance to practice letting go, breathing, and letting them take their course. How many points do I get for being totally naive that this "practice" will somehow help?

Too many things to finish doing, and too little time. Why couldn't I feel the urge to nest a month ago? My pantry isn't organized, my office is in a shambles, the bills aren't filed... argh!

More stupid parent-to-be tricks

The more I think about it, the more I realize that what with my fibromyalgia and my risk factors for post-partum depression, I'm going to need more sleep than a new mom usually gets. So, as keen as I am to breastfeed exclusively, I've concluded that I should probably pump a bit and let someone else take over at least one night feeding so that I can get a semi-decent stretch of sleep.

This leads us to the question of which kind of bottles to use. In the spirit of "let's try everything out first", we had a little test session tonight. Too bad squashy couldn't help us out - no mouth, no sucking reflex - we were completely on our own.

Contender #1: The Adiri Breastbottle Nurser
It's shaped like a breast. Soft like a breast. And like a breast, you have to open your mouth wide and use a decent latch. You also have to work a bit to get the liquid out, although gravity will make the nipple drip a bit even without suction.

Contender #2: Gerber Nuk nipple on a really cheap bottle
We probably all recognize the bottle from our childhoods. The nipple shape is pretty different. We had to apply a good bit of suction, and the flow was very slow. I didn't like the size and shape of the nipple... it's too small to get a really good breastfeeding-type latch going, and it flows more easily if you just suck at the tip.

Contender #3: Second Nature bottle
This is the only bottle I've ever seen where the nipple doesn't drip when being held completely upside down. The only way to get a drink out of this one is to suck, suck, suck. The flow is apparently controlled by how hard you suck, which is good, but when I sucked my hardest I got a really fast flow. Wonder how a newborn's sucking power compares to mine? You can get a decent latch on this bottle, although the nipple part is kind of long.

Winner: Whichever one Lumpy will take and still move back to breast in the morning.
Seriously, I know it's going to be trial and error. I can't wait to see what Lumpy prefers... will he side with Mr. December and love the Nuk, or will he agree with me that the breastbottle is the way to go? Stay tuned for the stunning conclusion... in about 5 weeks.

Oh, and if you have babies, or experience with same, drop me a comment and let me know what bottles you liked best.

feeling not so groovy

I just feel out of sorts tonight. My uterus is dully aching, my head feels heavy, and I'm in a crabby mood. What's up with that?

This guy deserves every penny

There's a tree surgeon in my yard. He's taking down the tree that's creeping under our foundation and threatening our pipes and our roof.

First off, it looks like fun... he gets to climb trees for a living, and then he gets to pull out his chainsaw and take them down. It looks like even more fun than demolition... and it happens out in the fresh air!

Of course, all of his ropes and harnesses are a reminder that it's actually a dangerous job. His chainsaw is strapped to his waist and dangles when he climbs. He has to find a place to anchor his harness - and it's not like my roof is equipped for wall-climbers.

This guy really earns his money.

Hospital tour. Ew.

Tonight we toured the birthing unit of our hospital. All I can say is, ew.

Okay, that's not all I can say. If it was, I probably wouldn't even bother blogging about it.

First off, the birthing unit has a definite hospital smell... disinfectant and old urine.

The room is about the size of a small private dorm room, with a toilet and sink in an area smaller than most powder rooms I've seen. There's a hospital bed, some really cheesy "mother and child" paintings, and all the medical equipment right there in plain sight. There's maybe three feet of floor space on either side of the bed. The clock on the wall ticks very loudly.

This is where my child will take his or her first breath? Ew. Is it too late to give birth in the woods or something?

I'm making a list of things to bring to make the labour room more homey:

- some happy pictures that I can stick to the wall
- many, many pillows - to build a fort on the bed
- a boom box and lots of CD's
- my own blanket (or duvet)
- a nightshirt that I don't mind losing (so that I don't have to wear the blue gowns)
- a bottle of vanilla essence or some other natural (non-chemical) substance that will make the room smell better
- a sign to put on the door, to the effect of "welcome to my happy place. we thank you in advance for helping us maintain the positive, homelike mood in our room."
- the most important tools for transforming the room: a sledgehammer, some drywall compound, and a gallon of paint

Then again, that would make for a pretty full bag. Better leave out the nightshirt.

Addicted to the sauce

What is it about apple sauce that is so addictive? I love the stuff! It's almost better than ice cream (gasp). Yummm...

I am so beyond tired, it's not even funny. I need to lie down and take a four-hour nap. Of course, I can't really do that. The window installer is here and the tree surgeon should be showing up shortly. And then I have a shrink appointment. Think she'll let me nap on her couch for the whole hour?

My morning routine has fallen by the wayside, but it takes me the exact same amount of time to get up and about in the morning... because I routinely fall asleep on the can. What a basket case I am.

At least the fridge is full. Grocery G.ate.way saves the day again.

the worm has turned (34 week update)

Okay, not the worm. The baby. Lumpy is now head-down. My doctor says that babies who are head down at this point usually stay that way. Hooray!!! I do plan to keep playing music in my pants, though, because it's so cool the way Lumpy moves and grooves to it.

Vital stats:
Ute measurement - 35 cm (only one week ahead)
Lumpy's heartbeat - 150 bpm
My weight gain - steady at 1 pound per week - 24 pounds so far

So it's all good. Really good.

I hired a doula last night. She rocks - when she left our house, I wanted to hug her. I'm really looking forward to the birth now... as long as I can get my music mixes finished by then!

I feel so grown up...

A few weeks ago I received a package in the mail from a cousin I'm not generally in touch with (no reason, we're just not that close and she lives far away anyhow). It contained a book I'm actually excited to read, and a lovely note.

Bucking my tendency to procrastinate and to ignore social niceties that take too long, tonight I sat down and wrote a thank-you note. I even addressed and stamped it. It goes in the mail with the bills tomorrow morning.

Yup, I feel like a grown-up. Maybe I'll buy myself a fountain pen and some sealing wax for all the eloquent thank you notes I'll be writing from now on everytime someone does something nice for me.

Or maybe, after Lumpy arrives, I'll be lucky to find a pencil and scrawl a note on the back of a junk mail flyer: "Dear relative/friend/well-wisher; thank you for the lovely gift you sent for us and Lumpy. We can't wait to use it/wear it/sit on it/give it to Goodwill. Do visit us in a few weeks when we've settled in. Bring food."

a squash in my bed, and a party in my pants

It's pretty much what it sounds like.

We've decided to try co-sleeping with Lumpy, since both Mr. December and I are lazy-asses who'd rather just roll over and take care of the kid than get vertical to take care of the kid. Mr. December is totally paranoid about rolling over on Lumpy and insisted that we get a safe and secure co-sleeper to minimize the risk. Then he insisted on testing to make sure that it worked. We needed a stand-in for Lumpy... and so squashy was born. Four pounds of butternut squash swaddled and topped off with a cute newborn hat. Of course, we'll miss him when he turns into four pounds of butternut squash sauteed with garlic and pureed into a soup, topped with diced chives. But he'll have served his purpose.

As for the party in my pants... as far as I know, Lumpy is still breech. Coming up on 34 weeks, I've decided we might need a little enticement to move into the head-down position. As a music therapy student I learned about mothers who have turned their babies by putting a tape player or headphones in their underwear and playing music. Intrigued by the sounds, the babies turned themselves to better hear the music. Result: head-down and musically educated babies.

So this afternoon, as far as Lumpy knows, there's a ceilidh going on in my pants. Yup, celtic fiddles and drums. What, you expected me to play mozart? What kind of over-parenting freak do you take me for?

Lumpy won't be exposed to any Spinal Tap in utero, though. I don't want to risk a headbanging accident or a mosh pit mishap.

I'm better than fine

I'm on vacation.

Mr. December had to go to Ottawa for business. Seeing as the hotel and his travel were already paid for, I decided to go along with him and take the opportunity to rest, incommunicado. I had no idea what kind of hotel we were checking into.

The lobby has free wi-fi. The hotel has a spa which offers, among many other things, prenatal massage by a registered massage therapist. There's a starbucks and a lovely bright area on the main floor. One of Mr. D.'s co-workers has family connections here, so we're being upgraded to a "balcony suite". Granted, it's snowing and cold here so the balcony isn't much of a draw. I'm just hoping for a huge, clean bathtub I can soak in.

Right now I'm in the lobby, next to a roaring fire, with a chai latte next to me and my trusty macbook. The colour scheme is delightfully in tune with what I love right now - aqua, turquoise, and various neutral shades. I can feel my whole body keying up and winding down at the same time. Is this what a vacation is? We must do it more often!

Oh, and we took the train - quite a civilized way to travel, if you ask me. VIA rail has wi-fi in all of the train cars and every row of seats has an electrical outlet so you can plug in your laptop.

TTFN...

I'm dizzy

What the hell? I was just standing up, talking to the electrician, and then suddenly I needed to lie down RIGHT AWAY. As in, feeling like I was about to faint. Now I'm horizontal and I still feel like shit.

I ate breakfast this morning - oatmeal made with milk. I've already drunk about a litre of water. What's going on here?

Going to lie down in bed now. This couch just isn't doing it for me. Don't worry about me falling - I'll crawl.

Okay, now I get it.

I spent last Tuesday and Thursday with my friend X and her twin 10-week-old daughters. All I can say is, I get it now.

I finally get what is completely illogical and sounds ridiculous to the uninitiated: that it is entirely possible to be home from 8:30 a.m. to 6 p.m. and barely have time for a shower. That feeding, burping, changing, and consoling a baby really does take up your whole day. I must admit, it always sounded a bit suspect to me before... but now I get it.

I'm also relieved to have learned that my diapering, swaddling, burping, and comforting skills are up to snuff. I also know how to fold a Gra.co twin stroller, use the infant car seats, and sterilize bottles. I've learned to tie a moby wrap, and mastered the skill of doing everything - even peeing - with a baby strapped to my chest. In all of these ways, I'm ready for Lumpy.

But in a different, more commercial way, we're nowhere near ready.

I went to the Snug.abye factory outlet yesterday with my mom. We had the intention of buying 8-10 sleepers, but only came away with 3. Why? Let's just say that everything there was heavily gendered, except for the few yellow pieces and the green pieces that looked more like puce than like a pretty baby green. Mom promised that as soon as Lumpy is born she'll drop everything and buy some pink or blue sleepers. So much for going neutral.

For the record, if you're in the GTA it's well worth shopping at this outlet store. We bought 3 sleepers (two of which came with little baby hats), a fleece sleep sack, a baby hat, and three pairs of baby mittens for under $50. Score!

32 weeks... holy cow!

I had another checkup today:

weight gain: 2 pounds in 2 weeks ("perfect", says my doctor)
ute measurement: 34 cm - 2 weeks ahead (doc wants to know if dh and I were big babies. gaa.)
lumpy's heartbeat: 150-160
blood pressure: 110 over 60.

I love my doctor. She really pays attention. While measuring my belly, she said, "looks like baby might have had a growth spurt. Those stretch marks are new, aren't they?" Indeed they are. Amazing that she noticed and remembered.

So yeah, I'm now officially eight months pregnant. Holy crap, is all I have to say.

I'm still here...

Sorry I haven't posted all week. Bad blogger.

Everything is fine. We started the final renovations on Wednesday - the furnace room and the downstairs bathroom. There's a dumpster parked in our driveway, which is loads of fun... we've been throwing stuff in left, right, and centre. The furnace room is going to become a livable hobby room/workshop. We will finally have two toilets. YAAAY!

Lumpy-wise, it's all good. You know, aside from the heartburn. Here's a little investment advice for the rest of you: buy stock in Tums. They are saving my sanity.

I made a list, but haven't bought any baby stuff yet. And then over the weekend I realized how stupid I've been. It's ALMOST CHRISTMAS, people! That means crowded malls, limited parking, cheezy muzak in the stores, long lineups at the cash... why, oh why didn't I do my shopping in October?

Don't misunderstand me. I don't hate the Christmas season... I just avoid shopping for the duration of it. I love the smells, the sounds, the taste (Godiva gingerbread truffles immediately spring to mind)... just not the standing in line forever, and emerging to discover that I have no idea where I parked. And then schlepping my purchases around the 30-acre parking lot, all the while wishing for my couch, a fire, and a nice cup of hot chocolate.

My, I do sound like a grinch. Maybe I should embrace it and go ahead and steal Christmas. I bet I'd get a bunch of great baby stuff along with it... right?

You're still reading me?

I feel like I have so little to say right now. Everything is fine, thank God. Lumpy is moving around like crazy. We're working on the house, trying valiantly to finish the fireplace and the bar so that we can put that room in order.

Over at one of the foster parenting blogs I read, there's some sad news. If you have a minute, please go over and offer Fosterabba and Fostereema some support.

I'm starting to realize that we should maybe get some basic things ready for Lumpy's arrival... but anytime I go to a store or look at baby stuff online, I feel so overwhelmed. Do I need all of that stuff? Does anybody? I think Lumpy will just sleep in the laundry basket until he outgrows it.

30 week checkup, and thanks!

First of all, a big THANK YOU! to those who responded to my last post. I love hearing about other people's small pleasures.

Now, down to business. I'm at 30 weeks today. Holy crap.

Let's roll the stats:

Baby's heart rate: 150 bpm
Uterus measurement: 33 cm
Baby's position: head up, feet down. Facing left.
Total weight gain from 0-30 weeks: 20 pounds

So everything is looking ok. Just one question, though... if I'm measuring a bit big, does that mean Lumpy's a big baby?

*tap, tap*... is this thing on?

OK, people. That last entry? That was supposed to involve audience participation. Don't make me turn it into a meme! I just wanna hear from you... what are some of the small (or really small) things you really appreciate? What simple things make you happy? Leave it in a comment, or I will be forced to start a meme!

Just a good day

It's one of those days when I'm just aware of all the blessings I usually take for granted. Not this pregnancy, because lord knows there's not one minute that I'm not supremely thankful for Lumpy. No, just the ordinary things. I feel compelled to list them:

I have a wonderful husband who's so affectionate, and we spent an hour cuddling when we woke up this morning.

There's plenty of food in the fridge, all so yummy that I had a hard time deciding on breakfast.

My dishwasher is silently working away so that I don't have to.

I had a hot shower this morning.

It's rainy and windy outside, and I'm dry and warm in my house.

I'm wearing clothes that are comfortable and attractive. I didn't have to think twice about whether I could afford to buy them.

I have a fast laptop and internet access. I have friends inside the computer.

I'd like to go out window shopping with Mr. December, and maybe walk around and have a hot chocolate. All it will take is us jumping in the car and going wherever we want.

I'm aware of all my blessings, which is probably the greatest blessing of all.


What are your ordinary blessings? I'd like to hear about them. Lurkers, you too!

I fucked up.

My brother is getting married next fall. He and his fiancee had their hearts set on a particular location, which only had one date available.

Mr. December's best friend is getting married next fall. Guess which date he chose?

My brother and his fiancee and the parents hemmed and hawed over the location of the wedding, which of course affected the date (because of each venue's availability). They couldn't decide.

Mr. December's friend kept asking us whether anything was settled. He wanted to go ahead and book his wedding.

On Monday he called and told me that they needed to make a decision by Tuesday. Was the date clear, or was my brother sticking with his original choice of venue and date? At that point, no decisions had been made here. I told the friend that there was no decision in sight, and if he really couldn't wait that he should make the best decision for himself.

Tonight I found out that my brother and his fiancee have decided to go with the original venue and date.

Are you still following?

This means that we can't go to the friend's wedding. It's on the other side of the continent on the EXACT SAME day as my brother's wedding. Mr. December would probably have been the best man at friend's wedding - the friend keeps dropping hints to that effect, anyway. But Mr. December really can't miss my brother's wedding. Even he agrees that if I missed HIS brother's wedding, his parents and whole family would be pissed.

Mr. December is now mad at me for not telling him when the friend called to ask about the date (I may have, but who remembers?), and for not telling him the moment I knew that my brother's wedding date had been fixed. He feels that immediate information might have made a difference, that he would have been able to get his friend to change the date. He's totally pissed off at me.

Know what? I'm pissed off at me. I can't imagine having to choose between MY best friend's wedding and my brother in law's, especially since it doesn't really look like a choice. Actually, I still can't choose. I'd much rather be at my best friend's side. And I like my brother-in-law.

So now I'm feeling bad that I didn't try harder to persuade my brother or the friend to pick a different date... and I'm feeling bad that Mr. December is in this position. It's just bad all around.

Is it too late to call my brother and ask him to find another date at that venue?

oh, bother...

I guess this is what happens when you leave the computer for two minutes to go pee.

So tired...

I've been very productive over the last week or so. I even started using iCal so that I can watch as my to-do list items get eliminated... four or five in a day.

The downside is that I haven't been napping. I've been feeling fine and energetic, but suddenly I feel run down. Tomorrow will be a day off for me. Oh, I'll still do my morning routine... but dinner will be soup from the freezer, I'll have a relaxing lunch with my dad, and after grocery shopping I'll come home for a long, well-deserved nap.

Hey everyone - this is Mr. December. Wifee is in the can so I'm taking over blogging. Are different people reading this thing now that she's not as bitter as before? I don't read the blog but I'm sure there has been a change. I've never thought of it before, but blogging is pretty tough. I pretty much have nothing to say and it's only my first paragraph.

Stroller shopping and other delights

I went stroller shopping today. I've been a Bugaboo fan since before we knew I was infertile. Today we checked out the competition.

And the winner is...

the Stokke Xplory.

Does anybody have one of these? Any thoughts? Advice?



We went to my 4-year-old cousin's birthday party. Her 5-month-old brother was having a bit of a meltdown at the end of the evening, so I offered to hold him. I sang and walked and rocked, and somewhere around the 7th repetition of Bob Marley's "three little birds" he finally fell asleep. It was the sweetest thing ever. Baby therapy is still so powerful for me. I hope I feel that way when it's my own baby.

OK, this is really a step too far...

At 5:30 a.m. I couldn't sleep. Normally I would have just caught up on blogs and played computer games, but this morning I (get ready for it...) CLEANED OUT THE FRIDGE.

I was also considering mopping the bathroom floor, but that's kinda close to our bedroom and Mr. December is still sleeping.

Is this nesting? Or a productivity kick gone very, very wrong?

UPDATE: I mopped the floor. Hopefully I'm now tired enough to go back to bed.

yeah, I'm cool. now who wants to touch me?

hooray for consistency - I did my morning routine today, although I couldn't find anything that needed to be laundered so I skipped that part.

We're having house guests for Shabbat - all 26 hours of it - so I really need to clean out the fridge, do some menu planning, and go grocery shopping. Also maybe making the guest bed today would alleviate some of the pressure tomorrow.

And I need a new tablecloth, to go with our new table. And I have no long pants or long skirts, so I'm kinda getting chilled here. And it would be neat if I could buy a replacement lid for my crockpot, cause I shattered mine last week.

So yeah... another productive day coming up. First, though, I'm gonna go take a walk. Ciao!

Productivity

Productivity makes me feel good... so why am I such a procrastinator?

I've developed a new morning routine, thanks to a certain yah.oo group:

Wake up
Shower - while I'm in there, do a 10-second brushing of the toilet and wipe off the sinks and countertop
Get dressed, moisturize, brush hair
Make the bed
Toss a load of laundry into the washing machine
Empty the dishwasher
Eat breakfast

and today, I added:
Take a 5-minute walk around the block

I feel so productive. I've even gone through a week's worth of mail, adhering to the rule that I should only touch a piece of paper once. Cheques are immediately written, bills are followed up on, statements are opened, read, and put in the pile to file away. Awesome.

Can you tell I'm feeling kind of virtuous?

And now... I'm off to buy another blue box (recycling bin), because ours is overflowing and it makes our front porch look a bit "white trash"-y.

27w5d

Had my checkup today. Here are some stats:

uterus: measuring 1.5 weeks ahead at 29

lumpy's heartrate: between 150 and 160

weight gain: 2 pounds in the last 4 weeks

I'm shocked about the weight gain part. I eat crap, and often. Normally I gain weight just *looking* at food. I'm not complaining, but what's up with that?

And is it bad to be measuring ahead?

In other news, I did the glucose tolerance test today. Felt normal before, during, and after. Is that a good sign?

How (not) to encourage voting

Yesterday was election day in Ontario. Despite being really sick, I went out to vote because, you know, it's important.

Because we moved recently, I didn't get a voter card in the mail. No problem, said Elections Ontario, just bring something like a tax bill with your name and new address on it, and a piece of ID.

We show up at the polling station. I explain to the nice lady that I just moved and didn't get a voter card, so here's my tax bill with my name and address on it. She looks at my new address, and proceeds to look for my name on the voters list. Um, hello, if I didn't get a card, I'm probably not on the list.

She starts reading off names. Names of people who used to live at this address but don't anymore. "No, that's not me," I keep saying. She seems perturbed that the list was wrong. She reads the list five, six, seven times, as if expecting my name to suddenly appear.

"Look", I say patiently, "we know I'm not on the list. I just moved. Elections Ontario said that I just needed to bring my tax bill, which is right here."

Finally she concedes that I'm not on the list. She pulls out a clipboard with a form and I fill it out. She asks to see my ID, and I hand over my passport.

"Oh," she looks surprised, "um, do you have your driver's license with you? no? hold on... is a passport valid ID?'

At this point I'm sure that I'm dealing with a bona fide idiot. But wait...

She takes my passport and starts to write down my information. Under "passport number" she writes down some number that I don't recognize. Definitely not my passport number.

Here's the tricky part: there are a lot of numbers on a passport. That's why you need to look for the one that's labeled (are you ready?) "PASSPORT NUMBER".

I point out that she's taken down the wrong number. Then I have to show her where the correct number is.

Finally, she informs me that I have to recite an oath saying I am who I say I am. I read it in my bored small-print monotone voice, rolling my eyes. She says, "it's just something we have to do". To which I respond, "I didn't get out of bed with bronchitis so that I could defraud the electoral system."

Finally, finally I get to vote. The whole process took 25 minutes... about 20 minutes longer than it needed to.

Would it be too much to ask that scrutineers know the procedures and can identify valid ID? Really?

at least I'm breathing...

The puffers have definitely helped with my cough and my breathing. That part of me feels better.

However, now I'm feeling the kind of fatigue that I got with mono back in '02. Exhausted, dizzy when standing, weak... I'm impressed that I can still make it to the fridge for a bowl of applesauce. My mind is fully awake, but my body is saying, "no more!".

Does anyone with an immune system of steel wanna come over and entertain me? You know, during those three hours a day when I'm not asleep?

In other news... when Lumpy kicks hard, you can see my belly change shape. Cool.

still sick.

It's viral bronchitis.

I'm back on puffers, orange and blue.

Not much else I can take, according to the doc. If it doesn't get better by Friday I'm to go back to see her.

I'm stuck in bed. I was supposed to begin teaching tomorrow night, but I've had to cancel all my classes - so sad. I love teaching.

I'm gonna go get me some OJ and then go to bed again.

I'm sick

*insert barking cough here*

Pretty much overnight, I've developed a nasty cough, headache, and stuffy nose. No fever, thank God. I know my doc gave me a pamphlet on what's safe to take while pregnant, but damned if I can find it. I've already tried Vick's vaporub, sitting in a steamy bathroom, constant fluids, and plenty of sleep. I don't really feel any better.

So... I'm not sure what to do. Spending the entire day in bed doesn't quite appeal to me, although I'll do it if I have to. I'm just wondering what else I can do.

Progress

You know the third trimester is right around the corner when...

... as soon as you have to pee, it's desperate... and when you actually DO pee, you get maybe two teaspoons out

... you start to feel as if there's a weight hanging off the front of your body

... pregnancy sex, which was so great a month or two ago, is now just a logistical nightmare

... you'd love nothing better than to lie on the couch all day eating bonbons

... the constant popping feeling in your belly makes you feel like a giant bag of Orville Reddenbacher's

... everytime you look in the mirror, you're shocked: "I know I'm pregnant, but I didn't realize I was THAT pregnant!"

... people ask when you're due and then act surprised when they hear it'll be another three months

... there is no comfortable position for sleeping

... the pregnancy-related sleep deprivation is making you feel desperately sad about the inevitable baby-related sleep deprivation

... people want to know if you've finished decorating the nursery... which becomes funny when you haven't even started

... no matter how fat you were before, people are now 100% sure that you're pregnant




Did I forget anything?

YESTERDAY WAS SOME KIND OF DELURKING DAY... so please, if you're reading this post just leave a message to say that you've read it... introduce yourself... I don't bite. And since I don't have tracking software, I'd really love to know just how many people are reading.

Send in the klutz

We went to my dad's office to pick up one of his spare desks - Mr. December wanted it for his home office. As we traded my tiny car for the family van, my mom said, "Don't lift anything! I don't want you to get hurt!"

So... for the record, I DIDN'T LIFT ANYTHING.

There we were, in the back of the office. I was sitting and watching Mr. December and my dad do all the work. It occurred to us that we needed to label the little screws and bolts so we'd know where to put them back. I went to my Dad's corner office to find some labels and a marker. Voila! I turned to go and... turned my ankle on NOTHING.

That's right, I sprained my ankle just by walking. How lame is that?

Down I went, landing mostly on my right knee. Do you know how bad the rug burn can get from commercial/industrial grade carpet? It hurt like a mofo and still does! Anyhow, I fell and then started swearing. Glad my dad got to hear my proficient use of the word "fuck".

So today... can't bend my right leg without winceing, because of the nasty rug burn. Can't put weight on my left leg without whimpering, on account of the sprained ankle. And yet the new mattress is being delivered soon and I need to clear a space in Lumpy's room (currently storage) for the old one. If only our rec room couch was set up, I could just relax and watch some DVD's. If only. Sigh.

Renovation updates....

Our ugly fireplace has been resurfaced... it looks WAAAY better. Our kitchen backsplash is being finished up today. Our basement rec room is about three days' worth of work away from being totally functional. Hooray!

Pics soon, I promise.

Jenn update.

My friend Jenn... the one with triplets whose water broke just shy of 18 weeks...

At 19 weeks, she gave birth to one of the triplets. He lived for about an hour before he died.

I just logged on this morning and saw that at 21 weeks, Jenn went into labour again. They couldn't stop the contractions. The other two babies were born and lived for less than 2 hours.

Jenn's heart is broken.

We all know that life is arbitrary and unfair... but this really drives it home. I don't know what else to say.

And the beat goes on... and on... and on...

Thanks to Jen for her comment... we've called our handyman and he's coming on Sunday with a nail gun. Can't wait to have quarter round installed, so that Mr. December can move all his office stuff out of the rec room.

I hung out at X's house yesterday with them and the twins. I was holding one baby in a stretchy wrap carrier thing... it was heaven. Also hot, but still heaven. The best was feeling her eyelashes batting against my chest. So cool.

Short entry today - I have to go and prime my fireplace. We're doing a pebble epoxy finish on it, but priming needs to be the first step. Wish me luck!

Just so you know...

No, I can't install quarter-round.

I can cut it to the right length and miter it so the corners join up nicely. But when it comes to putting hammer to nail, Mr. December and I could only make a mess. Countless bent nails later, we've decided to give up and hire someone to do it. Foiled again.

But hey, at least we've bought a couch for the basement rec room - and a matching slipcover for one of our old armchairs. Have I mentioned that I love the popular Swedish furniture chain?

June Cleaver has left the building.

Poker night went over very, very well. I like to think it had something to do with my homemade babaghanouj. Also the homemade chocolate chip cookies.

So now I'm back to being "lazy me", although I am trying to fight it. Last night we finished installing the floor in Mr. December's office... then I decided that his office would actually make a perfect playroom for the kids... and informed him that we would rehab the huge-ass furnace room for him. He turned up his nose, of course... but he has no imagination. Once we eliminate the stench of heating oil, level the floor, drywall the walls, paint the ceiling ducts, repair the ceiling, put in proper lights, replace the window, and partition off the furnace... it'll be a gorgeous little office. Does that really sound so hard?

Don't answer that last question. I think I'm up for the challenge. Imagine how amazing the before and after could look!

In other news, Lumpy is now an athlete. The kicks are getting stronger and feeling more complex, like he's actually executing a triple lutz in there. That's a pretty big feat when you come from two families whose idea of exercise is climbing a ladder to haul down the big-ass dictionary so we can look up an obscure word.

Oh, and back on the subject of home improvement, do you think I can install quarter-round by myself? That would be really cool - then Mr. December could come home to a completely finished office, sans furniture of course.

Okay... I MUST stop procrastinating. So much to do... so much to feel potentially guilty about... it's definitely time to get moving.

Not just a cliche anymore!

Well, here I am.

Mr. December is bringing the boss home, along with some of "the guys", for a friendly poker game. Since being barefoot and pregnant in the kitchen wasn't enough of a cliche, I also prepared some snacks for them and cleaned up the house. Upon hearing about this my mother suggested that I wash up before they come home, and put on some high heels and some pearls. Then she snickered.

So yeah, I'm a walking, talking cliche. And you know what? I kinda like it.

23 weeks, 5 days

Notes from today's doctor appointment:

- Lumpy's heartbeat is between 150 and 160 beats per minute
- My uterus is measuring 23cm, which is pretty much right on (my doctor says it should be the number of weeks pregnant, plus or minus 2)
- I've gained two pounds in the last four weeks

I am SO not accustomed to everything going perfectly. How do I snap myself out of that?

From the other side of the fence

Tonight we went to a baby naming for X's twin daughters. It was a beautiful event, really wonderful, and X didn't hesitate to tell everyone that their journey to parenthood was far from easy. It was my first time at a baby-centric event since I got pregnant, and it was wonderful to not even feel a twinge of bitterness.

Interestingly, there were a lot of pregnant bellies there tonight. Also a lot of people cradling newborns (not just the newly named twins). It seemed to me, for the first time in a long time, that everyone was pregnant. And for the first time ever, that "everyone" included me.

As I smiled and chatted with the other pregnant chicks, and as people I hadn't seen all summer came over to congratulate me, I remembered how awful it felt to not be part of this exclusive club. I remembered the bris I went to just weeks after my miscarriage, the bris I attended that was just a few weeks shy of my first due date. And I wondered, was there anything I could do to make the unknown infertiles in the crowd a little less sad? I hate the thought that my belly inspires the kind of bitterness in others that I remember feeling myself.

Short of wearing a very verbal t-shirt, or introducing myself by saying "hi, I'm decemberbaby and I'm infertile", I can't think of anything I can really do to alleviate their suffering. It just sucks to be the infertile one in the crowd and wonder if you'll ever have a belly like that, if you'll ever have a naming for your own baby. It fucking sucks, and I'll never forget it.

But the suckiness was tempered, once again, by the fact that Lumpy was bouncy and kicky all evening. I think he knew we were doing something worth being awake for.

Mazel tov again to X. And to all those still on the precarious journey towards conception, I'm still praying for all of you.

T minus 19 hours

In 19 hours my guests will arrive.

My house is still a total sty - there has been no cleanup since last week, despite what I promised when Mr. December left. The living room and dining room are as full of renovation crap as ever.

On the upside, by the time I go to bed the following will have been done:
- vegetarian kishke mixed and put to cook in crock pot
- brisket prepared and ensconced in oven to cook overnight
- banana chocolate chip cake baked
- sweet potatoes chopped
- carrot ginger soup finished
- challah dough set to rise slowly in fridge overnight

Hopefully all of those things will allow me to do some cleanup and even get some rest tomorrow before dinner. Wish me luck!

___________________________

For those who asked, here's a recipe to tide you over:

Brisket in Red Wine
1 brisket, any size you want
onion soup mix
beef soup mix
enough onions to cover the bottom of your roasting pan when chopped
1 bottle red wine

Slice onions and spread in bottom of roasting pan. Rinse brisket, remove fat if desired. Rub with mixture of onion and beef soup mixes (equal parts of each) until the meat is coated in the mix. Place on top of onions in the roasting pan. Pour the entire bottle of red wine over the brisket. Cover tightly with foil and bake at 450F for 1/2 hour. Turn temperature down to 350F and cook one hour for each pound of beef.

Note: You cannot possibly overcook brisket. The cooking time above is the minimum. The longer you cook it, the more tender it will be.

Note: If you want to cook the brisket overnight, bake at 450 for half an hour, then turn temperature to 250 or 200 and leave overnight (~ 8-10 hours)

Yummy... tell me how it turns out for you!

Musings on meat and other stuff

I did my Rosh Hashana shopping today, as I have ten (or maybe 12) people coming for dinner on Wednesday night. For those who are really interested (or just want to drool), here is the menu:

Challah (homemade)
Kosher Sushi
~
Carrot Ginger soup
~
Brisket in red wine
Roasted sweet potatoes
Lokshen Kugel
Grilled vegetables
Vegetarian kishke
~
Mango strawberry fruit salad
Banana chocolate chip cake

The real kicker here is... the brisket cost more than all the other ingredients combined. Thanks, kosher butchers! You really know how to gouge us. Jebus... 80 dollars for 6 pounds of beef. No wonder more people don't keep kosher.

____________________

Thank you all for your comments on my last post. There's definitely lots to think about.

____________________

Jenn update:
My friend Jenn, whose water broke at 17w5d with triplets, is hanging in there. All three babies still have strong heartbeats, and the two babies affected by the broken membranes are still moving around. Doctors still seem to feel that there's nothing to be done, but every day that the babies survive makes a miracle so much more likely.

____________________

X update:
Remember my good friend X? The one whose pregnancy I probably wouldn't have rejoiced in if I hadn't told her about our fertility struggle and found out about hers in return? Her twin daughters were born last Wednesday. Mazel Tov!

____________________

All in all, things are good. Sure, I have pregnancy-induced carpal tunnel, and I'm constantly exhausted, and I think I might be turning lactose intolerant, but I'm ultimately very thankful for my life right now.

Lots of love to you all, including the lurkers and those who just don't visit much anymore. I miss you.

decisions, decisions

For some bizarre reason, I've started thinking about what Lumpy's birth will be like. I've started considering options. And I almost wish I hadn't, because there are so many... and the ones I like are the hardest to achieve.

I used to sneer at scientology's insistence on silent birth, but now I'm wondering whether Lumpy really needs to hear me screaming, "holy fucking mother of god, this hurts like a motherfucker!" as he goes through his own traumatic transition. (of course, I still sneer at scientology. I just think less screaming might be a good thing)

I used to think that homebirth was messy and would involve way too much laundry for me to even consider it. Now I wonder why on earth I think I'd be more comfortable in a crappy hospital bed than in my comfy pillow-topped bed with a fluffy duvet.

I used to believe that women who attempted unassisted childbirth (i.e. no doctor, midwife, or other professional) were irresponsible at best, and really fucking deranged at worst. Now I'm thinking that it would be so great to be able to take my time, without being pressured or rushed, and just let Lumpy emerge. I can also totally see how having a nurse stick her fingers up my cooter to see how far I've "progressed" could be uncomfortable, distracting, and utterly useless (does knowing how dilated you are make the baby come faster? I doubt it).

I've decided I should get my thoughts about birth down, and then you can all comment and nitpick. Bonus points to commenters who've been there, done that, or have practical suggestions.

In no particular order:

- During labour and birth, I want to be able to move around freely. Heck, I'd love to float around in my parents' (indoor) pool until my water breaks. I don't see how confining myself to a bed will help the baby descend. Anybody with a basic understanding of physics should clearly see how gravity is involved. Anyhow, I want to be free to shower, swim, watch a movie, have sex, whatever... right up until I'm good and ready to get the kid out.

- The idea of constant monitoring and constant "checking" doesn't thrill me. As I said before, knowing where you are doesn't make things happen any more quickly... and I can see how it even might be demoralizing. Seems kind of unnecessary to me.

- If I'm having a normal, low-risk birth, why the fuck shouldn't I be allowed to eat or drink if I want to? If it's a long labour (read: longer than 5 hours) I will be SO not cool with the whole starvation thing.

- I don't want to have any interventions that are recommended on the basis of "this birth is taking too long". This is going to happen on Lumpy's schedule, not on the timeline that any nurse or doctor demands. As long as Lumpy and I are ok, we'll wait as long as we need to.

- In a similar vein, I'd rather wait and let my skin stretch than have an episiotomy so that Lumpy can be out faster. (TMI WARNING: I keep thinking... if it sometimes takes my ass 10 minutes to stretch for me to take a big dump, why would my vagina stretch any faster for an even bigger baby?)

- I get the impression that I'll KNOW when my body wants to push. I do not want doctors and nurses standing around telling me when and how to do it.

- Does my baby really need to immediately get that eye gel "just in case" I have VD? Come on, people. We know I don't have any STD's, because the government made us check at the beginning of this pregnancy - and I'm in a monogamous relationship. So what's with the mandatory eye crap?

Ugh. I imagine there's lots more, but that's all that comes to mind right now... so let me have it. What do you think? What did you do... or what do you hope to do one day? What works? Am I a total idiot for thinking this way?

Help. Only 123 days left.

No cure for infertility

I'm pregnant, so I'm well on the way to curing my case of childlessness... but there seems to be no cure for infertility.

I just heard that my distant cousin who got married in November is now six months pregnant. Let's do the math... oh my goodness, it took them a whole 3-4 months to conceive! I couldn't even summon up the mild happiness and decency to be genuinely congratulatory. What's my problem? Are all of us barren bitches like this?

I can claim to be back to my happy, bubbly self... but events like that show me to be otherwise. I guess infertility has left its scars.

On the other hand, it's left lots of new bloggy friends. What a great silver lining.

please take a moment... *update*

My online friend Jenn is pregnant with triplets. Tonight, at 17 weeks, her water broke.

Please pray for her. Even if you don't normally pray. She spent a long time trying to get pregnant and really needs our love and support right now.

*UPDATE*
Miraculously, all three babies are ok and have made it through the night. Two of the babies are low on amniotic fluid, and the doctors hope to be able to find the source of the leak, slow it or stop it, and replenish the fluid levels. As of right this second, everyone is still alive and kicking.

a healthier house

I spent all afternoon getting rid of dust in the bedrooms and the hallway that leads to them. This area is now called the no-shoe zone. And it must be healthier, because we're not sneezing anymore and Mr. December's eyes aren't red and puffy.

Productive evening, too... we fixed up the edges of the flooring downstairs, and then assembled an IKEA sofa bed for my office. Now I can nap without leaving my computer!

I'm taking my antibiotics religiously... and sure enough, I'm feeling the telltale warning signs of a yeast infection. I forgot to take my acidopholous. Maybe if I start now... ?

ew.

this time, I almost didn't make it to the bathroom in time.

Mr. December still thinks it's funny to see me streaking past him, hands cupped to my mouth, and then to hear me puking. Thanks, honey. It's very amusing. Serves me right, trying to eat chicken instead of sweet carby goodness. Won't be doing that again in a hurry... I'm gonna try for some rice pudding later tonight.

And just because I was doing so well and having a reasonably easy pregnancy, the powers that be decided to spice things up a bit. I have a UTI. Doesn't help that Lumpy is now kicking me in the bladder. Cause, you know, having to pee every two seconds instead of every five minutes wasn't annoying enough. Now it has to be painful too.

I'm still very blessed over here... both with actually being pregnant and with how the pregnancy is going. This is a minor blip. Please excuse me while I go chug some cranberry juice.



(oh, and does anybody out there love scrabble? wanna play with me via e-mail?)

Progess... and coming soon -

Our house is almost cleaned up. The duct cleaning guy is here right now... and the cleaning ladies are coming later. Most of the boxes are unpacked and the furniture we have is pretty much in place. I almost live in a real house!

About time, too. My head hurts and I'm sneezing from all the dust. That needs to stop. And I need to sleep later than 8 a.m., which is when the contractors show up and start making noise. Tomorrow will be a contractor-free day. Huzzah.

I got out my guitar last night for the first time in a long time. Once I'm done with the renovation craziness I'm going to start working on my music again. Maybe I can get a whole CD done before Lumpy arrives.

phew.

Our toilet is working again. And we FINALLY have a working laundry room. Hooray!

We're going to install some flooring today... the hallway I did last week looks awesome, so here we go with Mr. December's office!



Last night I had a scary dream. It had nothing to do with my pregnancy, but I woke up with the feeling that something bad had happened. Immediately my thoughts turned to Lumpy... I dug out the doppler... it took a full 90 seconds to locate Lumpy's heartbeat, during which time I nearly stopped breathing. Finally - the "hoofbeat" sound I was looking for. I listened for 5 minutes until Lumpy moved away, presumably to get some shut-eye. Can't say I blame the kid - I was pretty exhausted myself. But it still took me a long time to get back to sleep.

the tree giveth and the tree taketh away

We have a city tree on our lot. It shades our whole front yard and gives it a cozy cottagey feel. It keeps parked cars cool. It's a giving tree.

Of course, it's also a taking tree... insidiously breaking into our sewer pipes and stealing precious nutrients from the sewage. Blocking up our drains. Taking away my ability to pee in comfort in the middle of the night.

The plumbing guys are here, and they're going to replace the cast iron drain stack and about 5 feet of sewer pipe. The whole shebang will cost us about 2 grand... guess we're not going furniture shopping this weekend.

On the upside, since it's a city tree that is most likely causing the problems, the city will give us a $2000 grant to repair the damage. On the whole, we should come out even.

And as Mr. December says, it's a good excuse to renovate the hideous basement bathroom.

Now get your asses over here and here and give my peeps Reality and Shlomit some encouragement. It's a fucking hard road. They need lots of virtual love.

Update from the semi-conscious.

I am so fucking tired. I slept for three hours this afternoon. Still fucking exhausted, like non-functional exhausted.

It's not our toilet that's blocked. It's the whole main stack for the house. The bigass drain pipe in the basement is FULL of water. Gross raw sewage water. Much of which has now been splashed on the bathroom floor by the man with the 25-foot toilet snake.

I think we'll sleep elsewhere tonight.

20 weeks

Had my 20 week appointment today.

Our Down syndrome screening is back. Our risk is 1:50,000 - the same as the risk for a 15-year-old.

The ultrasound report is back (from two weeks ago). Lumpy looks perfect, but was too shy and demure to show us any relevant bits. So... we're still having a mystery.

I have other things to say, but I'm really tired and hungry. Maybe later.

Nothin says lovin like...

... puking up half a large pizza and a jumbo bubble tea.

Yes, I am 19 and a half weeks pregnant. Yes, "morning sickness" (don't get me started on that misnomer) is supposed to get better for most people at the end of the first tri. Once again, I am in an uncomfortable minority.

My diclectin ran out. As in, no more refills. I don't see my doc til Wednesday. I honestly thought it wouldn't be a problem... maybe my nausea had gone away. Right? Right? Wrong.

I'm back to feeling brutally hungry in an instant, then progressing to nauseated. If *anything* smells a little off (like the inside of my brand new dishwasher), I gag. Sometimes that escalates to full-on puking. The entire contents of my stomach, gone. So much for nourishing Lumpy. Fortunately I've got enough fat reserves for the kid to live off until he graduates from university.

At least Mr. December got it right last night. While I was hunched over our lovely new toilet, he massaged my shoulders, stroked my hair, and said "you're doing great, honey. I'm so proud of you." I know it sounds over the top right now, but I swear it made me feel ten times better. And it was way better than his usual "eww! don't forget to flush twice!"

So yeah, that's where I am. Too sensitive to smells to do much around the house (the whole place is full of strange smells). Too nauseated to fix myself a meal, but hungry all the time.

But it's all okay...

Lumpy kicked me this morning. That makes it all worthwhile.

Moving right along...

Our bedroom is pretty much organized now. I can cook in the kitchen. Lumpy's room is a temporary dining room. My office is fully unpacked.

Things are moving right along.

The house is getting painted this week and next. Soon all we'll have to do is wash the floors and unpack the boxes. I can't wait to be able to walk around barefoot without turning the soles of my feet black.

Last night I'd had enough. We haven't watched an episode of Angel in at least three weeks. I was in withdrawal from Dav.id Bore.anaz's hotness. I set up my old computer (thank God I never got rid of it), ransacked the basement boxes until I found the DVDs, and popped some popcorn. Lovely. Now all I need is that IKEA sofa-bed in my office so that I can lounge while I watch stuff.

Now that my old computer is running, I've discovered that there's an unprotected wireless network nearby... so my days of internet withdrawal are over. I'm trying to catch up on the blogs. Did I mention that my days of productive housework are over, too?

Tired. Sleepy. Unable to write complex sentence structures. I'm going back to bed.

It's all good...

We've moved in. We're finally sleeping at our house, as dusty and gross as it is. We have a wardrobe in our bedroom now, so we can upack our clothes. I spent this evening scrubbing our bathroom (there were globs of dried grout and caulking [i]everywhere[/i]) and unpacking our toiletries into it. Before and after pictures will be posted, but probably not for a couple of weeks because...

My computer has died.

and

Our internet isn't hooked up yet.

So forgive me for not posting as frequently as before. If you need me, call. My phone is working. Otherwise I'll be back online as soon as I can.

Oh, and I had my 18-week ultrasound on Thursday. It's stupid, the technician isn't allowed to comment at all... so we saw Lumpy, but no word on whether all the measurements are normal, AND no word on the sex. We have to wait til our next doc appointment for that.

What'd I miss?

Just got back from a long weekend in Vegas. I love Cirque du Soleil.

Very tired and not up to blogging much right now, but I wanted to reassure you that I have not fallen off the face of the earth.

So leave me comments... and tell me what happened, please. I need to catch up!

We moved. Finally.

The movers arrived at our apartment at 5 p.m. It took six hours to load the truck. They unloaded until about 4:30 in the morning.

I have to say, the guys we ended up with were real troopers. Even at 3 a.m. they were joking and smiling, and they did their job really well. I would never again use that company, but I gotta hand it to Ernie, Steve, and Phillipe... they did good.

Since we still have some painting to do, we're not unpacking much yet. We slept at my parents' house last night - er, this morning. We have to go back to our apartment today and clean up a bit.

So tired. My whole body aches. I'm going back to bed.

oh, and for those who know me IRL, our home phone number remains the same... but it won't be hooked up until next Tuesday.

so begins the smear campaign...

Holy fuck. Shit. Dammit.

While nowhere near as devastating as Shlomit's BFN, this is seriously fucked up.

But let me preface it by saying that Lumpy is FINE.

The moving company never showed up yesterday. When we called, we were told that their morning move which was supposed to be a 2 bedroom turned out to be a 4-bedroom... so it took all day. So we got bumped. After some hysterics, they assured us they'd be here between 9 and 10 this morning.

Guess who's not here?

Mr. December called this morning to inquire... apparently they sent their driver to the wrong move first. Bumped again. Mr. D. pointed out that they've already made him miss a day and a half of work, they've fucked up twice, it's most definitely their fault and not ours, etc. He even mentioned that both our brothers are lawyers who've confirmed that there are financial damages involved here. He said several times, "you have to make this right. this is your own doing... you guys brought this on yourselves."

They've assured us that they'll be here by 2.

I'll keep you updated. In the meantime, I think I'll buy the new Harry Potter book. I promised myself not to buy it until after the move, so as not to keep me from preparing properly, but I think at this point that's no longer a concern. Everything is packed.

As Homer Simpson said, I'm tired of the waiting game. Let's play Hungry Hungry Hippos.

_____________________

Oh yeah, the smear campaign. Do not hire Two Small Men with Big Hearts moving company. They fucked us over royally, and they seem totally incompetent. Tell your friends. These guys totally suck.

_____________________

UPDATE: they're still not here at 3:22 p.m. When we called, they said they just had to swing by the loading dock to pick up a third guy. They should be on their way. I'm not holding my breath.

Mass confusion

I thought we had a break this morning. The moving company called and said that they packers couldn't make it in the morning, they'd be here around 2:00 instead. We made plans to see Mr. D's aunt, who's visiting from out of town. I showered and got dressed and thanked my lucky stars for the opportunity to go get some pancakes.

Two minutes before we left, the packers called. "We're on our way," they said. "Where do we park?" We explained that they were supposedly coming in the afternoon... but they were already here.

That was 45 minutes ago. Apparently they don't know how to read addresses, so they went to the building across the street. They just called me and asked why the nice chinese lady told them they were in the wrong place. Sigh.

So, no pancakes for me. At least my stuff will get packed up.

Orgasm in a cup

Tonight we walked over to Aroma espresso bar. It's the only Canadian location of an Israeli coffee chain.

I've been saying for years that Israelis make the best hot chocolate in the universe... and last night, I had Israeli hot chocolate in the comfort of my home town! Seriously, if you're a hot chocolate fan, you need to get your ass down there and experience it. Yum... I'm happy.

16 weeks today. Of course, my belly looks like at least 22... but the important thing is that nobody thinks I'm just fat anymore. That *is* the important thing, right? ;-)

I'm okay... sort of..

Thanks to diclectin, I'm feeling un-nauseated again. But I'm really tired and out of it. I've dropped any and all physical work on our house, and now all I do is shop and supervise.

We only have one week before the move. I've packed about 10 boxes of books... just another 300 boxes to go. Times like this I wish I was a witch and could just wave my want and make things appear in our new house. Ugh.

My family has been super-generous with their time, though. They've been drywalling, painting, laying floor, cleaning up... we'd never make it without them.

Oh, crap...

You know how sometimes you realize that you're out of pills right after the pharmacy has closed for the night? That happens to me all the time. But it's never been my diclectin before. And to be honest, I was supposed to get it today because I forgot to go yesterday. So, you know, two days without my anti-nausea meds. And I thought I was doing well.

I was doing well... up until I declared myself famished, got up to pee, and ended up hurling into the bathroom sink. And sorry to be graphic, but puke doesn't go gentle into that dark drain. No siree bob, I had to shovel it into the toilet. And I was still gagging, natch.

So here we are, fifteen and a half weeks, and as soon as my meds go away I'm puking again. Lucky me.

Can I take this as reassurance from the powers that be that Lumpy really truly is here to stay?

15 weeks and all is well.

Had an appointment with my doctor today. Some fun stats:

Weight gain (since conception): 7 pounds
Lumpy's heart rate: 150 bpm

AND I learned that my doctor vastly prefers not to use any interventions during birth unless absolutely 100% necessary. She doesn't believe in episiotomies. She doesn't like to use forceps or vacuum. AND she was intrigued when I mentioned doing music therapy assisted childbirth. Hooray for my doc!

To celebrate, I went to babies 'r' us and bought a Snoogle and a fetal heart listening device. The listening device is crappy... it's not as sensitive as the doppler. We tried it just now and couldn't hear anything. Then we read the package... "can be used from 20 weeks"... geez, at that point I could use a plain old stethoscope, y'know?

Nevertheless, we'll keep the crappy listening device. One day soon it will work, and I can't wait to see Mr. December's eyes light up when it does.

I'm starting to feel excited, like this is really happening.

I have a gun

... and I'm not afraid to use it.

(caulking gun, that is)

Today I took another step forward in DIY renovations. Last week I cut some molding and drilled it into the concrete wall to cover up the uneven seams on the wallpaper. Today I went back and caulked the edges between the molding and the wall so that you can't see huge gaping spaces where the wall curves and dips. Looks good. Looks really good. I'm too lazy to take pictures right now but I promise I will.

The caulking gun, like the power tools, makes me feel strong and capable. "I am woman, hear me drill." I originally asked Mr. December to help me with this part, but I've just proven that he's unnecessary in the renovation realm. Niiice.

I keep checking people's blogs, and nobody's updating. What's with you people? (yes, I'm the pot calling the kettle black, deal with it). I'm especially anxious to hear from Ms. C. I want to hear about betas and other fun stuff. And the rest of you who are cycling, I've totally lost track of where you are... and not on purpose. Check in. I miss you.

Full house

If you've read the title and are getting visions of John Stamo.s, GET A HOLD OF YOURSELF!

We had a full house today over at the new place. Electricians, bathroom guys, unskilled student laborer, skilled relative laborers, me, and my brother's fiancee. It felt so productive... like we might actually be able to move in on the 30th.

Parking was a bitch, though. Our street has a one-hour parking limit during business hours, and our driveway only holds three cars (down to two now that we have a dumpster). We had to play car jockeys all afternoon.

Here are the things that have gotten done:
- our living room has been equipped with pot lights
- the switch for the kitchen light is now located at the entrance to the kitchen
- the rec room ceiling has been properly painted
- the laundry room has been wallpapered and painted
- the fugly fireplace has begun its transformation - today we did the first bit of cementing by patching the holes and large dents
- the bathroom wall has been broken out and the floor has been removed
- the bathroom fixtures are out
- the back patio has been powerwashed

And all this in one short day. Coolness.

Please go visit Ms. C. and congratulate her on getting two lines!

Take back the right...

Today I had brunch with Aurelia and My Reality... awesome fun, especially when we decided it was time to take back our right to have sex for pleasure. Yes, I know what you're thinking - sex for pleasure is a myth, right? But if you remember back to your pre-IF days, it used to be for pleasure every time. We believe that it's possible to retrieve an element of those good old days.

Armed with our mission, we stormed one of the hip, classy sex shops downtown. The saleslady was great - showed us some very cool new toys and gadgets. I was especially impressed with the peppy little vibrator disguised as a lipstick, but I realized that since I never wear lipstick that would sort of be a stretch. But then I saw it... The Cone.

In the end I bought nothing, because the pregnancy hormones have kicked in and made me 100% horny, 95% of the time. And since we're watching lots of Angel these days, I really don't need anything besides a topless David Bor.eanaz to get me going (and can I just say, thank god for the toplessness clause in his contract!). But if Aurelia gives The Cone a good review, I'm going back to get one... because let's face it, Mr. December is only human. I can't expect him to keep up with my libido for the next six months... can I?

So, mosey on over to Aurelia and Kelly's blogs - they promised to post reviews of their new toys ASAP. As for me... going to watch more Angel now.

*happy sigh*

French Toast

Can I just say how much I love French toast? Yummy.

Basically the nausea is gone, but I still can't tolerate meat very well. Last night I ate four bites of chicken breast and promptly threw up. Apparently Lumpy doesn't want his protein.

My house is a pigsty. I never thought I'd be living in this kind of squalor. My pants are on the floor where I stepped out of them after a long day of painting... dishes haven't been done in ages... someone dropped a food wrapper on the floor and we've both been too lazy to pick it up... the bathroom trash can is overflowing and yet nobody has thought to take it out... what a mess. No wonder I want to move already.

I'm tired. Tired. Tired. Starting to think I should have coughed up the extra 15 grand for a general contractor instead of doing it myself. When will I ever learn?

... and miles to go before I sleep

I've not been blogging lately because I've been working on my house day and night. Painting, wallpapering... today I even removed the laundry room sink. I'm aching in muscles I didn't know I had (not in the abdominal region, thankfully) and I'm so tired. And we've only done half of the basement. The easy half.

So... I'm still here, I'm still pregnant, I'm just too tired to think. I'll keep updating you but it might be a bit crazy between now and the end of July, when we move. I'm still checking on all of you when I can, just not commenting as much.

Wow, I'm just lazy

It's not that I'm not having thoughts about posts all the time... it's not that I have nothing to post about.

I'm just lazy. Sorry.


We told my cousin, my grandmother, and an aunt about the pregnancy last night. My grandmother beamed and said nothing. My aunt, who knows about our IF journey, said "Oh, that's wonderful." and my cousin kept saying, every four minutes, "oh my god, you're PREGNANT? You're gonna have a BABY? That's amazing!"

Did I mention that said cousin is 39 years old?

Anyhow, his constant outbursts annoyed my grandmother, who said that it was too much talk about the pregnancy and wouldn't be good for the outcome. But for just a few minutes, I was genuinely feeling glowy and excited about being pregnant. The feeling faded, but I'm so grateful to my cousin for helping me to feel it, even a bit.

Why am I so un-excited? And when will that change?

All clear

Our ultrasound went well today, if you don't count the fact that they wouldn't let Mr. December into the room for the first 20 minutes. Given that the last time I went into an ultrasound room they told me my baby had died, I was understandably distressed.

So back to this time. The tech started to measure stuff and record her description for the doctor. After about 15 minutes, I asked, "um, sorry for interrupting, but is there a heartbeat? Is the baby alive?" She looked at me like I was nuts and said, "of course it is. I can see the heartbeat right here!" Gee, lady. Thanks for telling me.

I don't want you to get the wrong impression - the tech was really sweet and friendly - it's just that she had no way of knowing how anxious I was.

Anyhow, here's how it breaks down:

Lumpy is measuring 12w1d (right on time)
Heartrate is 139 bpm
Nuchal translucency was 1.8 mm, which I understand is completely normal, so good.
Crown-rump length was 59mm

Altogether, everything looks perfectly fine. I still can't make out most of the stuff that the tech was pointing to, but if she says that she can see a brain, a stomach, a heart, and so on, I'm inclined to believe her.

We got a couple of pictures, but they look kind of smooshy rather than nice and clear.

That is all. We're going public with this pregnancy, effective immediately.

12 weeks

Yes, it's that time. My nuchal translucency scan is tomorrow at noon. I'll update shortly after that.

Here I am...

Although I have either two days or two weeks left, depending on who you listen to, I have reason to believe that I've got one foot in the second trimester right now.

Exhibit A: Despite some lingering nausea, I'm hungry now. I haven't been hungry since April. And I actually feel like eating.

Exhibit B: I haven't had a weekday afternoon nap in a week, and I'm doing okay.

Exhibit C: I'm feeling well enough to do manual labour around the new house.

What am I to make of it, if it's not the second tri moving in?

The nuchal scan is on Thursday. By Friday, everyone will know that I'm pregnant... which isn't surprising considering that I'm now fully into maternity clothes and have stopped sucking in my tummy. Oh, joy. I sense more posts about stupid bystander comments. Stay tuned.

What I really, really want

More MIL craziness:

MIL: "ooh, let's go over all the things that are already developed in the baby!" (yes, she actually said this)
Me: "Let's not."

MIL: "So, what foods have you given up?"
Me: "Given up? Like, for Lent? We're Jewish, and Lent was months ago."
MIL: "No, for the baby."
Me: "Oh. Well, I don't smoke crack anymore. I've also given up putting up with stupid questions. But that's not a food."
MIL: "Well, you have to eat lots of Omega-fatty-acid fish, right?
Me: "I don't eat fish."
MIL: "But what about the baby's brain?"
Me: "We don't actually have that kind of control, you know."


So after realizing how much fun I was having being a snarky-ass, I realized: I shouldn't wait to become all gaga and baby-crazed. That's not my style. I am enjoying this pregnancy. I'm enjoying burping for two, rolling my eyes for two, and bitching for two. I plan to have a snarky comeback for every stupid question. When people go gaga, I'll be going sarcastic. That's just who I am.

Oh, and I say fuck a lot. Enjoy.

EUREKA! A reno revelation!

I'm such a dumbass, can't believe I didn't think of this sooner...

Here we are, freaking out about the costs of the improvements we're making to our house, and thinking we have to do it all at the same time, or that we might as well. And then I bought some decorating magazines and flipped through some books, and it came to me: paint.

We don't have to tile the bathroom just yet. We don't have to install the kitchen backsplash. We can just have the workmen install the basic stuff - the plumbing, electricity, drywall, and subfloor - and then do a temporary finish with paint. We can paint the subfloor and seal it with urethane, and ditto with the shower enclosure. We don't have to make any major decisions about tile, and we can save that part of the cost until we're financially ready to do it. Awesome!

(and yes, this revelation happened after reading too much De.bbie Trav.is. how did you guess?)

Anyhow, I feel like a weight has been lifted. And now that I'm feeling less tired and less nauseated, I'm in the mood to do some of the work myself. Now, who's with me? Anybody wanna put on some coveralls and help me paint?

laughing my ass off...

Through Mel's commentathon at Stirrup queens, I've found Akeeyu's blog. This woman is a genius. She's hysterically funny. And this post totally cracked me up. It's so true! Read and enjoy.

It's time for a game...

Thanks to Shlomit for inspiring me to do this.

For those who want to play... google "[your name] needs" (make sure it's in quotation marks, and actually put your name in there). Then list the top ten hits on your blog... not the url's, just the sentence that says "[your name] needs...". I tried with "Decemberbaby" and came up totally empty handed... so I had to go with my real name instead. Enjoy!

1. Sara needs a loving, playful home. (why yes, I do. And I'm so lucky to have it already)

2. Sara needs to discover the experts in the area. (which area?)

3. Sara needs you. (again, technically accurate. Actually, I need you to leave me comments so that I feel loved!)

4. Sara needs Sara time.

5. Sara needs support in learning to make safe choices that more effectively reflect her goals and desired outcomes, including planning for special holidays...

6. Sara needs a lawyer?

7. Sara needs a kind soul to sponsor her.

8. Sara needs our help.

9. Sara needs a caesarean section. (um, I don't think so!)

10. Sara needs to go, she needed to go weeks ago.


There you have it. Apparently I need all kinds of things I had no idea I needed.

Stay tuned this week... I'm brewing an interesting religion/spirituality post, and another post about how Mr. D and I have different feelings about "coming out" as infertiles.

the bathroom, the sinuses, the love.

the bathroom:
Met with the bathroom guy yesterday. His estimate is a bit more than we wanted to pay, but still within the realm of reasonable. I'm going to see if he'll negotiate at all, but in the end we'll probably sign with him anyway. His timeline fits ours, he knows what he's doing, and he always answers his phone calls. good 'nuff.

the sinuses:
I'm still congested, but completely free of the searing sinus pain I had yesterday. I guess the salt water I snorted up my nose did something. Or else my immune system has finally decided to fight back. Either way, I'm better today than I was yesterday, though still sick and stuffy.

the love:
Mr. December has finally convinced me that instead of complaining about my inability to go to the grocery store, I should just throw money at the problem... so yesterday I placed my very first order with gro.cery gate.way. I ordered last night at dinnertime, and this morning they delivered all of my groceries to the front door. The produce looks awesome and the order is perfect - I'm smitten! This is way better than driving and schlepping and gagging from the smell of the deli counter. I'm officially in love.

That's all for now. At some point I have to throw money at the laundry problem too, which requires a little more work than the grocery problem but is still totally worth it. And then I will drink my raspberry lemonade, eat the newly delivered fruits, and take a good long cold-busting nap.

It always happens this way...

It figures. Yesterday I was at the doctor's office with nothing more than the common cold. Not twelve hours later my sinuses started to ache. Um, sorry, but couldn't you guys get your act together in time for the doctor to help?!?

(that was me talking to my sinuses. another clear sign that I'm losing it.)

Apparently my cousin really needs my help. Her newborn kept waking up every hour last night, and today her four-year-old is bouncing around needing to go to soccer, playgroup, whatever else it is that four-year-olds do all day. I'd love to go and help out, actually. I really get off on stepping in and helping like that... but there's the matter of this pesky cold, which I definitely don't need to bring into their home. Sucks, because I'd hate to be sleep deprived and have to deal with the four-year-old, but hey. My turn will come. And I'll help her next time.

Today I plan to stay in bed and drink Gatorade. Gross, but not as gross as water. And around noon I'll get my ass out of bed and drive out to meet potential bathroom contractor #54, so that we can move into a functional house this summer. I really hope he pans out... I'm running out of contacts.

Maybe I should shower. Or eat breakfast (not hungry). Or do anything but be stuck to my computer.

Oh, what the hell. I'm off to read all of your blogs...

First doctor's appointment

I met my doctor today. Nice lady. I think we'll get along fine.

I had zero questions to ask her. It probably made me look like a really clueless uninvolved mother-to-be... but in reality, I feel like there's no point in asking about deliveries, drugs, etc. because I really don't believe we'll get to that point. The doctor, on the other hand, was talking like I'm going to have a baby and be a mother and everything. It was very surreal.

Denial lives here.

At least Mr. December was able to come along and ask all of his questions. He was mostly concerned with the weight gain and nutrition aspects of things. Thank God Dr. F. straightened him out - pointing out that women have different gaining patterns in the first tri, and that all are ok, and that weight gain in the second and third tri should be about a pound a week. Mr. D said that her answer was much more relaxed than what he read in What to Expect. No shit. I should really burn that book.

So I have to make an appointment for a nuchal translucency scan, and go for some bloodwork... and that's it. It was actually my first doctor appointment in a long time where nobody asked me to take off my clothes. Weird.