In the first month of Vivian’s life, she astonished us with a multitude of things:
1) Her ability to projectile spit up
2) Her ability to pack on the pounds (one pound a week for the first 2 months roughly)
3) Her ability to get right back on the boob, with gusto, right after emptying the contents of her stomach
4) Her ability to wrap us around her tiny, delicate, sharply nailed little fingers
Has it really been almost 6 months since I last posted? Woops. Well, settle in for a long catching up post, friends!
I was talking to my sister this morning and marveling over the fact that the 5 months since Viv was born seem simultaneously like a lifetime, as I suppose they have been for one little mite, and like the blink of an eye. Is she really wearing 12 month clothing already? How is it that she just rolled and wiggled and kicked herself from one side of her playmat to the other to retrieve an errant toy? Wasn’t it just yesterday that my husband held her on an early, gray, drizzly spring day: swaddled and on his chest, while classical music played in the background and I meandered about, setting our home to rights by picking up the detritus of a newborn- a blanket here, soiled diapers there, burp cloths draped on every chair and sofa arm to catch the frequent spit up. Did that ever really happen? She has a beautiful, sweet, curious soul that grows warmer with every day. Lately, she has become (in her pediatrician’s words) “flirtatious.” Oh, is she. She will stare down new people, contemplate for a minute, and then crack an enormous smile. Not daring enough to actively seek out new people and more of an observer, she is a more than willing recipient of anybody’s attention. Oh, friends. She is a delight. My mom told me in those early days that she was an easy happy baby. That was sometimes hard for me to believe, having little to compare her to. She could scream (and often did for what seemed like hours but was more like 20-30 minutes a night) and was fully capable of covering absolutely everything nearby in spit up. But she truly was and is easy. We are so incredibly lucky and undeserving of this beam of light. Read the rest of this entry »
My shower was now a month ago.
Please forgive my tardiness in writing about it. I was so overwhelmed by all of the generosity and love shown by our friends and families! My friend Heather threw the shower at our church, and a lot of wonderful people showed up. These were people from every facet of my life- my childhood, college, adulthood, family. Even those who couldn’t come due to time or travel difficulties were there in spirit. Stowaway truly was showered with so much love (not to mention gifts!).
In fact, the registries are now basically empty. That’s a pretty good feeling. I went out a couple weeks ago and purchased the rest of the cloth diaper supplies from Diaper Lab, a local cloth diaper store. Then, that evening I went to choir only to be surprised by a small shower. They had taken up a collection and purchased most of the same items I had bought earlier in the day! So, I was able to return my items and save a bunch of money. I guess that’s what I get for jumping the gun. 
Okay. You have to see these adorable diaper covers we got:
And, if Stowaway turns out to be of the female persuasion, I may be forced, kicking and screaming, to purchase this insanely cute one too:
This baby is going to have a very fashionable butt.
What was I saying? Oh yeah. Shower. So, my shower was exactly what I imagined it to be. It was laid back and fun, there was a lot of good food, and everyone seemed to have a good time. Heather brought a couple of lasagnas and several other friends also brought things. My friends are great cooks! I have never felt so completely supported and surrounded by love as I have during this pregnancy.
After the shower, my mom (who flew in from AK for this!) came back to my house with two of her dear friends (women I’ve known since I was a very small child). I still remember fondly sleepovers and parties with these ladies and their children. We sat in Stowaway’s room for a good portion of the evening admiring all the gifts I’d received, putting some stuff away, and generally starting to get the room in better order. They stayed late, until husbands started calling and the drive back to their respective homes (in NH and ME) started to seem long for such a late hour.
All in all, a great day. Mr. Cookie and I feel truly lucky to have such a strong support network. Stowaway is incredibly lucky too, because one day s/he will look on many of these same friends the way I see my mom’s friends. All of you are treasures to me. Thank you for being so giving of yourselves. I am in your debt.
It’s been a little while. I keep meaning to take a belly photo, post pictures of the nursery, and talk about my wonderful shower. But alas, motivation is lacking. I am tired and a little cranky (Mr. Cookie might argue my choice of adjective) and 34 weeks pregnant. We’re slowly getting through a rather daunting to do list. Almost done with childbirth classes, gave the cars a good scrub today in anticipation of installing the car seat bases, purchased almost everything we’ll need for the hospital, and just in general taking care of bidness. But I’m tired. So, forgive me. I’ll be back soon.
Oh yeah. I’m enormous and my midwife keeps telling me she thinks the baby is going to be big. Thanks, Mr. Cookie.
This morning, I woke up and my belly was shaking. I made Mr. Cookie crawl back into bed: “put BOTH hands on my stomach,” because Stowaway was having a little party in there (complete with hiccups). Oh, the rolling and surging feelings that come with this part of pregnancy are quickly making it my favorite. My second trimester was supposed to be the best, but with the continued food aversions and the whole rib issue (did I mention I had a broken rib?) it has been less than the promised cake walk. Now, my hips are getting sore as Relaxin hormones surge and I am a little more tired again, but perhaps for the first time in my pregnancy, the good feelings are dominating on a regular basis (random crying episodes aside. I heard a report on NPR the other morning that made me start sobbing. Mr. Cookie was good enough to hug me and not tease)!
The nursery is nearly done (well, we still have a lot of clothes and little things to buy, but the furniture is all purchased and assembled and many little accents are done) as of this weekend. Woohoo! Nesting is in full swing and, as I am now in my third trimester, I can’t help but find myself wondering who this little person is inside. That’s another benefit of not knowing the gender, in my eyes at least. I get to wonder and guess at that too but then no matter what, I get the best gift in the world at the end.
At the beginning of the pregnancy, I had this unshakeable feeling that I was having a boy. I’m not sure whether it was because I liked the idea of Mr. Cookie having a son to share the same incredible relationship with as he and his dad have, but I liked the idea of “boy.” Lately, I’ve been thinking it’s a girl. I realize all of this is pretty silly, because I have a 50/50 shot at guessing correctly. Also, you should see the way my lone niece has him wrapped around her finger. It doesn’t matter the gender, this kid is going to be a total daddy’s child. And yet, there may be some indications one way or another. Take, for instance, this study. It turns out, there may actually be some correlation between extreme morning sickness and the female gender. I don’t know if you guys remember, but way back before anyone even knew we were pregnant (aside from the Mr. and me and a team of medical professionals), I had to go to the ER for dehydration. Umm, too much vomiting. AND AND AND I still throw up sometimes (sorry, you may not have wanted to know that).
And yet, it still doesn’t matter. I can honestly say that no matter what, no matter how much I’m proven right (red hair, blue eyes, mellow, loves music, mesmerized by Daddy’s voice) or how much I’m proven wrong, it just isn’t going to matter. I love this kid like crazy and it is just getting crazier every step closer.
Well, okay. Let’s be honest. Lack of red hair could be a deal breaker.
13 weeks left. Holy shit. I remember when I was so excited to hit 13 weeks pregnant! It seemed like such a milestone (and, at the time, it was). But, yesterday I turned 27 weeks pregnant and Stowaway got that much closer to viability. Sometimes I wonder if people really care about my mindless pregnant ramblings but then I decide it doesn’t really matter, because I care and one day it will be nice to have a record of this time.
So, some really exciting developments (to me):
* I’ve now seen my stomach move a couple times, courtesy not of my own muscles but of Stowaway’s shaking and kicking. Last night, I gave the bathtub a really good scrub (not an easy feat at 6 months pregnant) so I could just lay there in a warm bath and watch my belly shake. Stowaway apparently takes after neither of his parents and is underwhelmed by audiences (read: uncooperative).
* I think Stowaway is mesmerized by her daddy’s voice. Sometimes, she’ll be participating in Richard Simmons-esque workout and then Mr. Cookie will come into the room, talk, and suddenly she goes entirely still. It’s kind of cool because I love his voice too.
* I feel incredibly blessed to have such wonderful friends. From Heather, who has single handedly undertaken the task of my shower, to Sarah and Jenn, who are always happy to answer all of my stupid pregnancy questions, to Eljon and the countless people who called and emailed when I put a message up on Facebook for all of five minutes saying I was overwhelmed and weepy, and to my family who is always a phone call away, even if I don’t get to see them nearly often enough.
* Mr. Cookie and I went to a cloth diaper workshop at Diaper Lab (which is awesome, by the way). We’ve decided to move ahead with cloth diapers! Cloth diapers make me want to squeal with excitement, because they are so cute! Lots of reasons for this, but I think the main one is that Mr. Cookie and I both have super sensitive skin (so we can only guess that, by extension, so will Stowaway) and cloth is supposed to be better for sensitive skin than disposables
* Glucose test- is scheduled for the 30th, and after that appointment I start being seen every two weeks. When do they start doing internal exams? I have an irrational fear of going into labor early and would love to hear that nothing is happening.
* Does anyone know of good breast feeding resources in the area? Might as well use these boulders for something useful. And my Bradley instructor keeps emphasizing that we need to “watch other women nursing.” Seeing as how I’m not terribly comfortable saying “hey, could you NOT cover your tits so I can watch you feed your child,” consider this your passive invite to come to my house and nurse without covering up (I promise to maintain a distance of at least 5 feet).
I think I might be having a baby. See, that’s different from being pregnant. No, there is not a baby physically exiting my body right now, but things are getting real, yo. Last Sunday, we started Bradley classes. I wasn’t wild about the website’s wording on everything (husband coached childbirth seemed a touch conservative), so was thrilled when our instructor started the class off by griping and apologizing about the fact that Bradley seems oblivious to the fact that husbands are only part of the group of people supporting women through their labors. Hurray!
Then, when I went in for my check up today, I was given a few things that made me feel like “oh my god, I’ve made it.” The first was the enormous folder from our hospital with information sheets on everything from health care proxies and hep b shots to nursery decor (ugg. Babies ‘R’ Us is everywhere). We have big decisions to make and, despite the fact that we’ve already made many of them, it still makes it feel more real. The second thing I received was the dreaded orange drink for the glucose test. Next time I go in, for my 28 week appointment, I will in fact have to drink this sugar water about which I’ve heard so much. The final thing wasn’t so much an item as an event. The receptionist booked me for my next, next appointment for 2 weeks after the 28 week one (instead of the usual one month). Woah. We’re doing that now, are we?
You guys. I’m having a baby.
