New Feelings

For the last week, things have felt a little different.

On one hand, I'm feeling much more settled/happy with progress in baby preparations. The nursery is repainted (and this time I love the color), the last items off the registry are purchased, we're pre-registered at the hospital, our classes are complete, the baby's clothes/blankets are washed and put away...we're almost ready!

On the other hand, being 35 weeks pregnant is making me feel much more uncomfortable. By the end of each day, my back and hips hurt so badly I can barely move. Finding a position in which I can fall asleep at night is pretty difficult. My moodiness and exhaustion? Through the roof. Stephen's patience? Perhaps wearing thin...(hang in there, honey).

Ultimately, I can't wait for the best feeling of all -- holding that little guy in a few weeks!

Grateful...

Another trip to the doctor today yielded the same result I've heard for the past 8+ months -- "you're doing great." Protein scan on the urine - clean. Weight gain - good. Blood pressure - solid. Belly measurements - spot on. Baby's heartbeat - strong and clear. All in all, it's pretty amazing to have such a clean bill of health each time.

I am so blessed to have had such a healthy, complication-free pregnancy thus far. It's easy to take for granted the number of issues a pregnant woman can have, and specifically, my lack of having them. Sure, I've had my fair share of exhaustion, hormone spikes, back pain, etc. -- but that's nothing compared to the pain and suffering many pregnant women endure. And, as I watch friends and family go through pregnancies with gestational diabetes, infections, swelling, nausea, etc., it makes me really appreciate my uneventful trips to the doctor.

Now we just need to hope that everything stays on track for the last 5 1/2 weeks, and that little Baby Trammell is just as healthy when he arrives.

I've got how many years of this left? (a post by Stephen)

So it's happening already. Remember the stories your parents always tell about how they spent Christmas Eve when you were little? If your parents are anything like mine, it goes a little something like this: mom up all night wrapping gifts and dad up all night assembling gifts. Mom always recalls Dad cursing and yelling at whatever inanimate object he was trying to put together, be it a tricycle, bike, rocking horse or dollhouse (the dollhouse was for my sisters, I swear).

Well I am here to say that in 25+ years and with all of the great technological advances that have been made, product quality has not improved much. About two weeks ago, Carrie tried to assemble Buddy's mobile for his crib. But it was missing pieces or some part was broken and she now has to return it and get a new one. Then on Sunday night, one of his little rocking chair contraptions was pulled out of its box for assembly. Carrie had just had a baby shower that afternoon and she was excited to put something together to cap off the day.

Fast forward about 10 minutes and you would have found me with a wooden skewer, a metal skewer and a fresh beer in hand. You see, one of the holes in a piece of metal wasn’t cut right. So I got creative and filed it down with a metal skewer (yeah, the kind you use with chicken and vegetables and place on the grill). Problem solved, right? I laughed victoriously as the newly-filed piece of metal snapped into place. Then I grabbed the other end (which Carrie had previously assembled and I had taken apart in order to accomplish my aforementioned handiwork) and pushed it back into its proper place. It popped back out. Repeat once, twice, three times. Awesome. Now a piece that used to work had broken. Enter tweezers, needle nose pliers and flashlight. Crack open second beer.

Fast forward another 10 minutes and you’ll find me walking away, probably uttering a few obscenities. Carrie called the manufacturer on Monday and they are mailing new parts. And I thought to myself "Geez, is this what I have to look forward to for the next 12 years worth of birthdays, Christmas' and other holidays?" Earmuffs, Buddy. Earmuffs.

Feeling real

This weekend, it really hit me. We've been excited, planning and talking about our little buddy's arrival for months -- but while I've been so wrapped up in the planning, buying, appointments, classes, etc., I'm not sure it really hit me how truly amazing this is going to be, and how genuinely I am looking forward to meeting my son.

Call me hormonal, but all of a sudden I can't wait to be a mom.

Maybe it's having a few friends who've just delivered and are about to deliver. Maybe it's seeing all the gifts and feeling more prepared for his arrival -- or maybe it's God's way of sending me a lightning bolt to get my priorities straight. All I can tell you is that this whole "waiting for baby" process got much more emotional this weekend, and now all I can think about is holding my little guy and getting to know him.

There's still so much to do to prepare for his arrival, but the preparations now are taking on a new level of meaning. Bring on the next 7 weeks -- let the countdown begin!

I can't see the floor...

...in the nursery, that is. After shower #2 last night (btw, so fun and so many cute gifts!), the piles are growing, and now it seems that all the adorable little onesies, blankets, diapers and boxes are just staring at me, begging to be arranged/put away.

For those who know me well, you know I'm a planner. Excuse me, the planner of the century. I organize my life in lists and excel spreadsheets (yes, co-workers, I make thrilling spreadsheets at home, too). So, you can imagine that it's killing me to keep making piles in the baby's room.

But...our closet is empty - no rods or anything. Our room is painted, but likely to be repainted, so it's premature to hang anything on the walls -- and I still have another shower this weekend - so I'm hesitant to open and wash anything yet. (And a wise friend yesterday reminded me that I have no idea what size my little buddy will be when he comes out, so perhaps I won't wash all those newborn-sized clothes until I'm sure he'll need them.)

Essentially, I'm spending part of each evening sitting in my rocker (once I move the piles of sleepers and outfits off of it) and looking around at all the colorful, crinkly, exciting gifts, feeling so loved, and yet so overwhelmed.

Stephen's likely in for a "nice little Saturday" involving the nursery. :)

September Showers

This past weekend started a flurry of baby showers for Stephen and I. We're so fortunate to have so many family, friends and co-workers who are generously helping to celebrate our little one's impending arrival.

Shower #1 was a family shower -- and as I expected, it's all a bit overwhelming. Everything was beautiful -- my sisters had every little detail polished, from beautiful blue teddy bear cookie favors to a super cute diaper wreath to delicious appetizers...the list goes on and on. It's never comfortable to sit as the center of attention...but it sure does make you feel loved as you see your family surrounding you with well wishes and advice.

Being home after the shower is even more overwhelming. Our closet has no racks or shelves in it yet...so there's no where to put anything. I wrote out my thank you notes and then began my attempt at organizing things into piles. That should have made me feel better, but instead, it just makes me more nervous. Will I end up with a hundred onesies in one size and none in another? How will I ever know how many diapers is enough? How do I not own a single burp cloth yet?

Showers #2 and 3 are coming this week and weekend, and they're sure to be fun, beautiful and of course...overwhelming. Stay tuned for updates. :)

Ramblings (a post by Stephen)

Well it is done. Six weeks of childbirth classes and we have been deemed fit parents. Well, no one actually said that but I'm going to assume it was implied. Looking back over our time in class I'm not sure if it did more good by warning us of what is to come or did more harm by warning us what is to come. The take home message for me was expect to do nothing else the first two weeks after the baby is born other than feed your baby, change dirty diapers and try to sleep when he sleeps. So my expectations of what my two weeks of time at home away from work will be like have dropped. It isn't that I had some grandiose idea of how it would go. I knew I wouldn't be playing golf every morning and sipping cocktails on the patio. But the way they have set this up, I envision myself going back to work as a grumpy zombie.

Another favorite phrase that current parents like to tell you is "prepare yourself for no sleep." I have come to realize that I don't understand this phrase. There is no way to prepare myself for waking up every couple of hours. No amount of sleep I get now can be stored up for later. No amount of coffee, Mountain Dew, Red Bull or speed will keep me feeling energized when I am getting 3-4 hours of interrupted sleep per night. So I am not going to even attempt to prepare myself because I don't know how.

I've already decided that after I officially become a father I am going to try and be upbeat when people tell me they are expecting. I'd like to try to stay positive and say things like "Kids are great. They rock. They make your life more worthwhile." Those phrases sound so much better to me than "Oh, just wait. Prepare yourself. Enjoy getting no sleep. Your life will be forever changed. So much for going out. Everything you do will now be for your child. I can't wait to see you go through this." I fully realize that I am not jaded because I haven't had a child yet. But no matter what, I am going to try and stay "glass is half full." Just remind me of that when I've had two hours of sleep and we'll see how I do.

It seems to me that the little guy is having a blast in his current home. He plays all kinds of games with us now. The flashlight game. The tapping game (I push on Carrie' belly in a certain spot and he kicks or pokes back in the same spot). He kicks around when you read him a story. How cool is all of that? I always say "how can you beat those years you were in college?" But I'm re-thinking that. Perhaps the best time is spent swimming around in the womb. College years must be second in line.

I've got the blues

No...I'm not having third trimester depression issues, nor am I suddenly becoming a big fan of our local hockey team. I've attempted (and I think failed) at selecting just the right shade of blue for the nursery.

I thought I was being strategic. I bought a sheet set from the bedding I had selected and matched it to paint swatches, and then, I picked a shade that was several shades lighter on the same color card (mind you, the very top shade - it looked like it'd end up almost white). My sister painted her daughter's nursery the palest shade of pink...and it looked great, so I was attempting to replicate her success.

Ends up that the blue I selected is really a bright, light turquoise...kind of hurts your eyes when you walk in, and is a little overwhelming. Not the relaxing little nursery color I'd pictured. Oh, and Stephen spent all day on Sunday painting by himself, uninstalling and reinstalling curtain rods, shelves, etc....seriously - all day. He worked so hard, and did such a painstakingly excellect job that I feel like a monster telling him that we're very likely going to have to do it all over again.

For now, I'm going to try to live with it and see if it grows on me-- but chances are good that in a few weekends, we'll be painting again, and hopefully avoiding the post-painting blues.