Buddy watch

Buddy watch is on, folks. After a trip to the doctor this morning, I'm a little over 2 cm dialated and 70-80% effaced. The greatest part is that I'm having contractions pretty often, just not regularly enough yet. Buddy's on his way! Perhaps his cousin's arrival did give him some good ideas after all. :)

It could be tonight...it could be two days from now, but things are definitely progressing. So, today I plan to bake some cookies, put my feet up and record the frequency of the contractions. If he's not here by dinner, a walk will be in order. :)

Patience is a Virtue - a post by Stephen

If you know me at all, you know that I was not blessed with an overabundance of patience. I probably wasn't even blessed with an average amount of patience. However, as I reflect back on the past 9 months, with respect to Buddy's arrival, I actually think I have been unusually patient. I have been enjoying Carrie and I's final months as DINC's. I've relished the Saturday mornings when I can get up on my own schedule, put on a pot of coffee, read the paper at will, maybe pimp out my ride in the driveway and watch some college football. I've enjoyed calling up a friend or family member on a random weekday night and going out for wings and a brew. I am smart enough to know those days will be long gone in a week or two.

So I've been patient.

But I will admit that this last week or week and a half has been a little excruciating. And the thought of Carrie going past her due date by a week or more only makes it tougher. If I am finding it hard to concentrate now, I really don't want to think about my mental state next week if I am still trekking into work and waiting on the little guy's arrival. People have been asking about my nerves. And frankly, I'm not nervous at all. There is a very good chance that once Carrie gives me the official nod and I find myself sitting in a hospital room, the butterflies may start flying around. But for now, the nerves are calm. The patience is wearing thin.

Hospital trip

Today, I made a quick trip to the hospital. No, not for me, unfortunately -- but rather, to welcome my new niece, Autumn Kate Meyer -- 7 lbs, 3 oz, 20 inches long at 10:51 a.m. Mom, dad and baby are doing fabulous.

It was pretty amazing to have a chance to see everything from the other side one more time -- being in the waiting room, watching her go through all her measurements, tests and bath in the nursery, and holding that precious, fresh little bundle -- what a miracle.

Hopefully buddy will take some cues from his new cousin and hurry up!

Warm and comfy

Buddy must be really warm and comfy...because in the last two weeks, he hasn't helped his mommy progress any towards labor. I'm still about 60% effaced, and between 1 and 2 cm dialated.

For those in the office baby pool, here's a tip. Dr. Chris today said that if he had to guess, he'd say that our little guy is going to hang out until around the due date, and that based on my current measurements, he'll be "average sized," meaning between 7.5 and 8.5 lbs.

The most surprising news of the doctor's office visit today was my total weight gain. I'd forgotten where I started, and hadn't been paying much attention to the scale lately. I asked the medical assistant today to remind me of my starting weight, and scarily, some fast math helped me realize that I've gained 46 lbs so far. Yep, 46.

Stephen's been great at reassuring me that I haven't become a huge, scarily bloated pregnant person, but I'm starting to think that the facts contradict his kindness. Not much I can do now, except take long walks, eat spicy food and pray for this little guy to be ready soon.

Perfect timing

We must be close to buddy's arrival because I had my last day at the office on Friday. It was a very weird day...and I think it's going to be even more odd tomorrow a.m. when I wake up and don't carpool with Stephen downtown. As unnatural as it will be to stay home and wait these next few weeks, it was perfect timing to slow things down.

How do I know this? Saturday night, after running errands during the day with my mom and then going out to a nice dinner with Stephen, I came home, changed into comfy clothes and sat on the couch. I put my feet up on the couch and started to watch TV. Stephen looked over at me and uttered something like "whoa - look at your ankles."

What he should have said is "whoa - you've got a mean case of the cankles." I looked down to see my left ankle and foot slightly swollen, and my right ankle looked like it was broken it was so puffy.

So, that's one more late pregnancy symptom that's becoming a reality during these last few days and weeks. I'm grateful I decided to stop working now, b/c I'm needing to take more frequent breaks and keep my feet elevated if I'm not actively doing something. And while my office is pretty casual, I'm not sure how they'd take to slippers and feet up on the desk all day long. :)

Esperando un bebe

Yes, I'm speaking spanish. No, I haven't lost it. I just met some girlfriends at El Indio in Rock Hill for a quick bite to eat, and unbeknownst to our group, Wednesday is live music night. Essentially, the owner serenades customers with a guitar -- some spanish songs, sure - but mixed in was a little "Jailhouse Rock," "You've Got a Friend," and even "Sweet Caroline." (which were awesome, by the way)

The best though, was a personal serenade to me, translated by the owner's wife (apparently a song he wrote for her when she was pregnant). I could understand most of it -- about grand dreams, holding a baby in your arms, choosing a name, etc. It was called "Esperando un bebe" or "waiting for a baby."

It was hilarious, and so sweet at the same time -- I'm sure I'll never forget it.

I should also mention that the song seemed especially appropriate, as my trip to the doctor this afternoon yielded no major changes. I'm still about the same % effaced and same amount dilated as last week, although buddy has "dropped" some more, meaning he's making a run for the border, but the border patrol's not quite ready to let him through yet.

Things could stall out completely, or decide to go at warp speed at any given moment - no one really knows except buddy. I'm almost "ready..." or as ready as you can be, I suppose -- so it's up to him now, and all I can do is wait. :)

Surprise - you've got stretch marks!

Ladies and gentlemen...I made it until 37 weeks of pregnancy all cocky about the fact that my skin appeared to be adapting to pregnancy quite well. And then, last week while I was home sick from work with a bad head cold, I looked down at my belly and noticed a few spots that looked odd. Odd like when you iron a material that shouldn't be ironed and the fabric melts in a few spots...but around my belly button.

I called Stephen over for a second opinion, and he uttered the dreaded words "Um, those are stretch marks." Much wailing and gnashing of teeth followed. Ok, not really...but I wanted to wail a little bit.

For many, stretch marks are an unavoidable part of pregnancy. For other genetically blessed individuals like my sister in law, you can deliver multiple children and still have a supermodel's stomach.

I suppose it's a part of motherhood that you just accept -- it comes with the territory, as do many other surprises, I'm sure.

Doc's Appt Update

We're down to the wire, folks. Yep - I'm now headed to the doctor weekly (every Wednesday until that little guy shows up), and I had my first appointment yesterday where the doctor checks to see if anything is "progressing" towards labor.

I was certain he'd tell me "nothing's happening," because it doesn't feel any different to me this week than last, but I'm actually 60% effaced and 1 cm dialated already. :)

From what I hear from other moms, the % effaced is the bigger deal at this point, and means I'm well on my way. I asked the doctor for his guess on timing, and he said that anything can happen, but he'd guess that I still have a few weeks (whew!)

Strangers

Anyone who knows me well knows I'm generally not kind to strangers. Some people just give off the "friendly and approachable" vibe and are followed and talked to by strangers everywhere they go. You know who you are (Lauren...Melissa). However, I generally must give off a please-don't-mess-with-me vibe, b/c strangers usually avoid me...until I became visibly pregnant, that is.

People have warned me that my belly somehow magically would become public property as a result of pregnancy, and that little old ladies, curious pedestrians and bums alike would be stretching out their germy hands to cop a feel. Luckily, this hasn't happened - thank goodness! However, while they aren't touching me -- they are asking me questions. A lot. And commenting on my belly. A lot. It's as if just because a woman is visibly pregnant, the whole world has the right to offer unsolicited advice and/or play 20 questions with you. A few examples:

On a recent roadtrip, a convenience store attendant blurted out "That's my favorite part about pregnancy...when the belly button pops out..." at me. Nice. Yes, my belly button sticks out (and has for the last 6 months), but it was interesting that she felt close enough to me after watching me waddle to and from her restroom to comment audibly to me about it.

I had my 10-year high school reunion on Saturday night, and if I had a dollar for every time someone said "Whoa, you are seriously pregnant, are you due tomorrow," I'd have a college fund set up for buddy already. (And for those keeping track, I still have 4 weeks to go.)

The kitchen staff of the restaurant in the lobby of my office likes to shout questions at me as I exit the parking garage while they're on their smoke breaks -- anything from "And what are we having?" (boy or girl) to "When's the big day?"

It's interesting how pregnancy gives strangers a vote of confidence to comment on your appearance. I don't walk up to people saying "Holy cow, that's some blonde hair," or shout "Excuse me, when's your birthday" to random people across the street...but heck, maybe I should start. :) I know people are just finding a common link and trying to be nice, but for an introvert like me, it's startling to be called out so often and exhausting to make conversation with strangers.

I'd say I'm almost past the line of questioning from strangers, but I know what's next...guarding my buddy from germy strangers' grasps in the grocery store, church, etc. I'm buying stock in hand sanitizer and hoping for the best.

Playing Footsie

It's my new favorite part of being preggo -- playing "footsie" with Buddy. You see, his feet now rest somewhere between 9 o'clock and high noon if you're looking at my belly straight on, and they're right at the surface much of the time.

I'm beginning to think that he might be the next Lance Armstrong, because he frequently seems to be cycling his legs as if he's desperately trying to ride his way out of his current home. What's awesome about this cycling is that it's not just me feeling it -- anyone can see it.

That's right, I said "see." For months, Stephen and I have watched my belly contort as Buddy shifts positions or thump or bump as he kicks or punches, but now I'm literally chasing a little foot as it slides right under my skin in circles -- it's like the old Tom and Jerry cartoons when Jerry's trying to escape under a rug.

And, I can nearly grab it. This probably freaks him out, so I try not to do it too often, but I can literally wrap my fingers around his foot, under my skin. It's crazy...and beautiful at the same time. Baby feet are some of the cutest things on the planet, and I can't wait to see 10 little toes in a few weeks. Amazing!