McKay Viam Invenient

I officially now weigh less than my driver's license says I do. *\o/*

I can't believe it's already been a whole month. I've been somebody's actual mother for a month! What an amazing adventure it's been. I have no idea what we did with all our time before we had a baby but every minute spent with him is an absolute joy. Yes, even the times when he's crying (which, so far, is thankfully not all that often).

I've posted some more pictures in the Peanut Gallery so you can continue to see that he is indeed the cutest baby ever.

Our little Peanut is growing so fast - already over 8 lbs, which is great because he lost quite a bit of weight right after he was born and got down to 6 pounds something in the hospital. We are breastfeeding and have been on a schedule of about every three hours, but recently he's been wanting to eat as often as every 1 1/2 to 2 hours. The non-scary books say this is probably a growth spurt. Breastfeeding is an adventure of its own. It took some doing to get started - as part of the larger birth story that I will someday relate, let me just say that I got very dehydrated in the hospital and that caused my milk to be sluggish which in turn caused the baby to lose a lot of weight and enormous frustration for both of us - but we seem to have gotten the hang of it. My Boppy pillow is fabulous and Mr. Fantastic and I seem to have learned Peanut's hungry cues. This is useful because if we wait too long, our happy little baby will go from precious snuffling and lip smacking to wailing Defcon 5 BOOB BOOB MUST HAVE BOOB NOW in the blink of an eye.

There is nothing like hearing your baby cry from hunger to make you feel like a giant flaming failure as a parent. A week or two ago, I was driving him home from my mother-in-law's close to feeding time and he made the transition to Defcon 5 on the way. It was the most horrible, awful feeling, driving with Peanut wailing in the back seat, knowing that I'd be home in 15 minutes and would be able to feed him then but that he was hungry NOW and I couldn't do anything about it. He started crying and then I started crying and trying to reach into the back seat to comfort him...ugh, it was awful. And I felt so horrible, like he was going to hold it against me or think I was starving him on purpose. Of course I know that he won't even remember, let alone think the world is a terrible place where his mother abandoned him to STARVE TO DEATH, but it's hard not to feel that way in the face of your baby's pitiful cries.

He cried himself out and fell asleep after less than ten minutes, but it was the longest ten minutes of my life. And when I got him out of the back seat, I discovered that he'd cried so hard his hat fell off and I felt horrible all over again. Thankfully, we are mostly on top of keeping him fed, so we don't have a lot of Defcon 5 moments. I do still pretty much cry every time he cries and we can't fix it despite the fact that I know sometimes babies just cry and it's no reflection on us.

So the breastfeeding is going well, although I have started getting upper back aches from hauling around these enormous boobs. Seriously, I thought that at size 34 H, I was big before. Ha. Those boobs were a walk in the park compared to my boobs now. My boobs now are like giant porn star clown boobs. And yes, they are WAY bigger than Peanut's whole head. I don't know how he isn't scared of them, but instead, they are his most favorite place in the world. When he's eating and it's time to take him off the boob, he does this adorable little nom-nom-nom turtle mouth thing chasing after it and trying to get back on. I would video it for you but the video would also have to include a whole lot of my clown boob, which I am just not willing to share.

Mr. Fantastic is an awesome dad. He loves this kid so much I can't even tell you. Not that I expected any different, but I can't even explain how much it fills my heart to see them together. My heart goes all *meep-clench-eee* whenever Mr. F shows me our baby he's holding and says, "Isn't he the most beautiful thing you've ever seen?" I never knew I could love two people so much. My little family. ♥

Aside from being an awesome dad, Mr. F has also been an awesome hubby and unbelievable help to me. Breastfeeding really takes a lot out of you (or me, anyway - I am so tired and constantly eating, trying to keep up my energy and milk supply) so Mr. F basically does everything else. Makes me sandwiches, gets me drinks, helps clean up, does all the laundry, and so many other things, but especially, he is the Diaper King. Changes Peanut halfway through each feeding (which is like 8-10 times a day) and has become such an expert already that I call him Quick Draw. We both keep telling each other that we feel like the other is doing all the work. So far, I think we make a pretty good team.

We had bath time recently, which was a tag-team event and went extremely well - Peanut didn't cry once, despite some obvious dubiousness at the start, which you can see here:

Peanut has achieved several of the milestones the book says he should or may be able to do by now, including gaining some head/neck control, focusing on a face, following an object making noises other than crying, smiling and bringing his hands together in front of him. Unfortunately, we can't seem to get a picture of him smiling - the camera seems to promote Grumpy Face. We did, however, get a photo of him with his hands together and discovered that this makes him look uncannily like Mr. Burns. Mostly though, he's just about the cutest thing you ever saw.

Thank you so much to everyone for all your congratulations and good wishes on Peanut's arrival. It's looking increasingly like I'm not going to find the time to respond to each comment individually, but please know that Peanut, Mr. Fantastic and I all appreciate your kind words. Will update more as I can!

Hooray! We finally welcomed Peanut to the world on Saturday, Feb 28 at 12:56 a.m., almost a whole week past the due date. He weighed 7 lbs 10 oz and is 21 inches long. And, incidentally, is the cutest baby ever. I have photographic evidence.

All of you who suggested my lower back ache was back labor were indeed correct. At some point, Peanut flipped himself face up (otherwise known as "sunny side up"), which puts lots of pressure on your lower back and tailbone and hurts like the dickens. There was some minor drama during delivery, which if I ever have the energy again, I will tell you more about, but all in all, everything turned out well and we are both doing great.

Will check in more as Peanut allows!

Week 41

Hi! Yep, still pregnant. Had a dr. appt. on Monday, regular visit plus we went ahead and did the membrane sweep. I will not like, it sucked. Somewhat painful and pretty unpleasant. Unfortunately, it doesn't appear to have done anything...usually if it's going to jumpstart labor, it will do so within 48 hours. So I guess me and Peanut are just not quite ready to part ways yet. Doesn't mean I'm not doing my best to evict him anyway!

I have been having lots of low back pain since then, and also what I think are contractions in my belly. But the stuff going on in front is nowhere near as painful as the low back pain, so I don't know what that really means. I was under the impression that if the baby is turned the right way (which Peanut supposedly is) then you don't have back labor, but that could be wishful thinking. The back pain usually goes away after a nice rub from Mr. F and the front pain tends to go away on its own. I'm guessing things are progressing and we are getting under way but I don't think we're too close yet. Who knows!

I'm scheduled for another appointment on Friday, where they'll do an ultrasound to check fluid levels, another NST and something called a biophysical profile, which I guess is part of the ultrasound.

They'll also want to talk about scheduling an induction, which they know I don't want to do but they don't like to let you go past 42 weeks. Today I am 40 weeks 3 days, so technically, I have until March 8 before I am 42 weeks. I'm sure they would like to schedule me the first week of March but I would like to put it off until the second. Steve has chemo the first week of March and I was sort of hoping not to be having the baby when he was feeling crappy. So if I could have the baby before the 3rd it would be great (hint hint, Peanut!), if not, then I'd like to wait until the 8th when Steve will hopefully be feeling better after the chemo.

These last few days practically everyone I know has called or texted me (some of them multiple times) to see if I've had the baby (and possibly forgotten to let them know!) and I feel so bad when I have to tell them I have nothing to report yet. My doctor told me at the very beginning not to tell anyone my actual due date because everyone would start coming out of the woodwork wanting to know if I'd had the baby yet, and she wasn't kidding! It's sweet that everyone is so excited, but I really do feel kind of bad saying, nope, no baby...and no idea when, either.

Also, I have been advised by both my sister-in-law and Mummy Fantastic that we need to be having sex to get Peanut going and I had to tell them both we've tried to no avail. Also thus far unsuccessful: walking, swimming, bouncing, nipple stimulation, pineapple, red raspberry leaf tea, evening primrose oil, chinese food, bribery, pleading, threats. I am considering acupuncture at this point! (which I have actually done before - obviously not to induce labor - but I found it very relaxing, so it might not be a bad idea.)

So! Keep your fingers crossed that Peanut will see his way to joining us in the real world in the near future. Will keep you posted as always!

Dear Peanut:
Okay! Today is d-day. Or b-day, whatever. So really, ANY TIME now would be great. Especially if it means this back ache will go away. Plus, Mr. Fantastic says I can't be having you tomorrow because Tottenham v. Hull City is on. You know we wouldn't want Daddy to miss that. And you know, it would be totally awesome if you didn't make us wait until next week or anything. I'm just saying.

Dear Battlestar Galactica:
Yeah. Still watching but there're only 4 more episodes, so I might as well. But you continue to be mysterious and confusing and a whole lotta work for not much reward. Maybe we're just not right for each other...maybe I'm too old and unhip to understand your depths. Maybe some people like having to figure you out, but that's not me. I watch t.v. so I don't have to think.

Dear Stargate Atlantis:
Oh, I miss you. My Friday nights will never be the same. Yes, there are other things I can watch, but they're not like you. Those things will never replace you; they take too much work. You were easy to love, with your pretty and your splodey and your shiny stories that nobody ever needed to draw me any kind of chart to decipher.You will always have my heart.

You know, when I was nineteen, Grandpa took me on a roller coaster... Up, down, up, down. Oh, what a ride! I always wanted to go again. You know, it was just so interesting to me that a ride could make me so frightened, so scared, so sick, so excited, and so thrilled all together! Some didn't like it. They went on the merry-go-round. That just goes around. Nothing. I like the roller coaster. You get more out of it.

We found out yesterday that my brother's surgery is being postponed. The doctors have agreed they want to give the chemotherapy more time to work on the lung tumor, so instead of going ahead with the brain surgery, they are going to do at least one more round of the chemo instead. The next round is scheduled for the first week of March - they were originally scheduled to be every three weeks.

Steve is feeling much better physically and is in much better spirits with this news. I, of course, am having mixed feelings. On the one hand, I worry that we're not moving fast enough on the brain, or what exactly this means about the lung tumor. I have to keep reminding myself that they don't want to go in surgically to take care of the lung tumor because it can and usually will leave lots of bad cells roaming around in there. It's actually better and more effective to try and kill it all with the chemo instead.

But I'm also glad because putting off the surgery gives me some time to have this baby. Apart from hoping that Steve will not actually be in the hospital when I deliver, it's crossed both our minds that there's a possibility that he might not come out of the surgery okay or at all. He said to me last night that he's glad they're putting off the surgery so he'll have a chance to at least meet my baby. They've given us no reason right now to expect the worst, and it breaks my heart to even think about it, but I can't help it. I do worry about how much longer we'll have Steve with us. I want him to have as much time as possible with his nephew.

I'm doing my best not to stress and focus instead on Peanut. Of course, being 39 weeks and 4 days pregnant, this is its own source of stress. I am so ready to have this baby and he seems to be perfectly content to keep percolating. I'm due in 3 days, but it's average for first-time moms to go over past their due date by 7-10 days. So even though Mr. Fantastic is convinced that I'm having the baby ON Sunday, I am not expecting that to happen.

I had my checkup with Dr. O on Tuesday and there was no change from last time. She asked if I wanted her to sweep my membranes, which I didn't want to do yet, and also about getting an induction scheduled for once I hit 41 weeks, which I REALLY don't want to do. So I told her I'd consider doing the sweep for next appointment and we could talk about the induction then too. I'm actually scheduled for two appointments next week - Monday for my usual checkup and then Friday they'll do an ultrasound, another NST and a biophysical profile. All this is just to make sure things are still going okay in there.

I don't want to be pressured into interventions that I don't want to do, such as an induction or the membrane sweep. I am willing to wait until 42 weeks before we start interfering, whereas the doctors don't like to wait past 41 weeks. But Dr. O just happens to be on vacation again next week, so I am seeing two of her colleagues on Mon and Fri, which I think will make it easier for me to put off scheduling the induction. I may agree to the sweep, though. It only works about half the time and carries a risk of breaking your water (something I want to avoid as long as possible), but Mr. F and I have discussed and he thinks I should consider it. I'm still thinking about it. I am anxious to get the ball rolling, and the sweep, if it works, could help avoid induction, so it's worth considering.

In the mean time, I am doing all the "natural" things I can to help get things started - eating pineapple, drinking red raspberry leaf tea and some other things. None of it may actually work, but if it does, yay! Of course, will keep everyone posted as things progress on both the baby and the brother fronts.

Dear Heroes:

It was this close...we were SO over. I was totally breaking up with you tonight and then you went and gave me an awesome last two minutes and now I can't break up with you until I find out what happens with HRG next week. Consider your execution stayed. For now.

Dear Battlestar Galactica:

Look, I still love you. But I just don't understand you anymore. I feel like I know about a quarter of what's going on with you. Is there some sort guidebook or manual that would help me read between the lines better? I'm not going anywhere, I just wish I knew more about you. Why must you be so cryptic? Why won't you let me in?

Well, we finally have a plan for my brother. First, he started chemo on Tuesday. Last time he was on something called Temodar, which was a pill he took for five days every month. This time it's Taxol, which is a more traditional chemotherapy that required him to go to the oncologist and get an IV infusion. He's supposed to do this every three weeks.

Last time the Temodar didn't have many of your traditional side effects. His hair got a little mangy and he felt pretty run down the week he was taking it, but in general he tolerated it pretty well. The Taxol this time is already taking much more of a toll on him. Although he swears his breathing is already better, it's making him feel terrible otherwise. The big thing is muscle and joint pain, very much like growing pains. The medication spurs bone marrow growth and so you get aches and pains from that. He feels run down and is alternating between chills and being too hot and has no appetite.

Second, on top of feeling crummy, he got word today that the gamma knife procedure is out. They have scheduled him for regular open brain surgery the afternoon of 2/20 to remove the tumor that's there. He'll be at PSL, the same hospital as last time, with surgery done by Dr. Lammond, who also did the last one.

The reason they can't do the gamma knife is because this is a melanoma we're dealing with, and it doesn't respond well to the gamma knife, so this is the only way. Steve is really bummed about it. He's had such a hard time in the hospital - it seems like something else always goes wrong when he's in there and he ends up staying longer than they originally told him. He'll probably still be in the hospital by the time he's supposed to do the next round of chemo, so I imagine they'll be postponing that until he's more recovered from the surgery.

We went over to see him this afternoon for just a few minutes - we brought him some prescriptions he needed and some other sundry items that he's just been too wiped out to go to the grocery store and pick up. We didn't stay because Mr. F has such a bad cold and we didn't want to get Steve any sicker with his immune system as compromised as it is right now. Poor guy just seems so down - I'm sure he's feeling pretty awful emotionally as well as all the chemo side effects. When you feel bad physically, that affects you mentally, and then to get the news that he's going to have to have the surgery, in a week no less - well, I'm sure he's about as down as he gets.

I am doing my best to keep upbeat and not worry so much about him. I hate to be going through all this again, especially knowing that I won't be able to care for him like I did last time. I just have to keep my spirits up and know that we will get through it. As always, good thoughts and karma sent our way are always appreciated.

Week 39

Yikes...only 11 days until my due date! Not that that means anything, as most days I think Peanut is perfectly content to keep cooking in there and just may overstay his welcome, for all that he pretends to be Searching for the Great Egress.

Saw Dr. O on Tuesday...nothing exciting to report. Listened to the heart, had a cervical check - still less than 2 cm dilated and Dr. O guesses still at least another week or two before b-day. I told her I was starting to get paranoid that something might be wrong. Not for any real reason, just - we've come so far and I don't want anything bad to happen now. And with everything else going on in my life right now, I'm just nervous. So if Peanut doesn't move for a little while, I get anxious (and start poking at him, and if he doesn't respond to that, well, then I get really anxious) and start thinking something's wrong. She told me at this point, it's so crowded he won't be moving as much and I should think about the quality of his movement as opposed to the quantity.

Dr. O was great about it though, and said that we have nothing to gain and everything to lose now, so I shouldn't think twice about calling her if I'm worried. And to help put my mind at ease, she did a quickie ultrasound herself to check fluid levels (all excellent) and then I did a non-stress test (NST), which is basically sitting in a chair for twenty minutes with a fetal heart rate monitor and another for uterine contractions. And they give you a little button to push whenever you feel the baby move. So I did that, and of course Peanut was romping around like a madman - I think he liked when they strapped the things around my belly.

Anyway, after the twenty minutes, Dr. O came in and looked at the printout and told me that with the fluid levels looking good and with "an absolutely gorgeous tracing" from the NST, that everything looked fabulous and I should feel good, and to please call her if I got worried again and she'd happily have me come in and do another NST or whatever would make me feel better.

I do feel better but am still ready to have this baby. Not that I'm EVER going to stop worrying about him in the next 50 years, but I feel like I'm ready to burst, I'm so big! I lost a pound from last week's appointment, but the books say that at the end sometimes you will actually lose a little weight. Still, I was somehow able to gain the 15 pounds I was supposed to but I imagine most or all of that will be gone quite quickly after the baby's born, especially if the breastfeeding works out.

Lessee...still not sleeping great, although Dr. O said I could take a benadryl to help, which I did last night. Helped a little, although it mostly just made me drowsy during the parts where I wasn't sleeping. And, good news...the angry lady parts seem to have calmed down to an occasional mild annoyance. Lots of low back pain, still being managed with heating pad, exercise ball and numerous nightly rubs by the uber-fantastic Mr. F. And of course, all this is accompanied by continually feeling as if I could not possibly be able to grow any bigger. The swaybacked waddle on me is hysterical.

Speaking of breastfeeding, I am planning on doing it for as long as I can - well, not years or anything, I don't think I could hack it - but hopefully a good six months. So now I'm reading The Womanly Art of Breastfeeding, which is a La Leche League book, and while kind of earth-mothery-hippieish and agenda-oriented as LLL is known to be, is still very informative and supposed to be the best resource on breastfeeding.

Still, one of the things that ticks me off - they put this little note in the foreword explaining how throughout the book, they "...still write from the perspective of a household consisting of husband, wife, and child or children. Some have pointed out to us that times have changed and this is no longer a realistic approach to family life. But we are convinced that breastfeeding and mothering progress more easily in such an environment. From personal experience, we also know that this situation does not always hold true in real life. Sometimes the father is missing from the family, and mothering then becomes a solitary endeavor. It is not an easy situation for a woman to be in. Our hope is that any mother in that situation finds the support she needs in other ways."

Just...fail. La Leche League was formed in 1956, but this is from the 2004 7th edition. They're having a hard time getting the "sometimes moms are single" clue...when are they going to understand that there are all kinds of families now? Hey, guess what - sometimes there isn't a dad! But that doesn't mean mom is doing it by herself. Sometimes there's another mom! Or friend or parent or one (or two or three...) of a hundred other people who provide the same support to a new mother. Not to mention that they are basically saying they acknowledge that it's not always the "traditional" family setup and yet they still think it's the best way, so they are going to ignore all other possibilities. *headdesk* Anyway, despite the fact that I happen to be in the "traditional" setup they desire, I am reading this book through a filter and trying to ignore all the crap that's not specifically about how to breastfeed.

Also, speaking of breastfeeding, the fine bastards at Simlac have somehow discovered I'm about to give birth and helpfully sent me fairly large free sample of their most expensive formula. Literally everything I've read about breastfeeding says not to keep any formula, not even free samples, in the house because it's so tempting to give in and use when you're having trouble breastfeeding and worried that baby's not getting enough to eat, and that can cause huge setbacks in breastfeeding, if not disrupt it entirely. So that's how they suck you in...the first one's always free. Guess I'll be giving this to my cousin so I'm not tempted!

Anyway, that's about it from babyland.

Well. Lots going on, so it's about time for another state of the union.

Peanut
Not a lot to report...Peanut is cooking away and doing his best to bust his way out any way but the one way he's supposed to. Had a dr visit on Tuesday and saw the last OB in the practice I hadn't met yet, Dr. Mahoney. She was great, and now they will all be familiar faces, no matter who shows up for the delivery. The appointment was quick, just a chat and listened to the heart beat. I had assumed she would do another cervical check - I thought they would be doing that every week until the end - but she didn't, which was a pleasant surprise. The fewer of those I have, the better. I really like this practice - they have two midwives on staff and really seem to be in tune with the things I want as far as my prenatal care and also for my labor and delivery. Although most of them are Obs, they seem less inclined toward all the interventions my books and Dr. Internet have scared me into thinking all Obs are determined to do.

So, this is week 38 - I have 17 days until my due date. OMG. It's coming so fast! We are mostly ready, although the one thing we haven't bought is the co-sleeper that we want. Not to worry - we have a pack n' play as well as several laundry baskets and drawers, so Peanut has someplace to sleep until we do get it. I had my second baby shower last Saturday and we got tons more clothes - this is going to be the best dressed baby ever, as long as we can get all his laundry done! And Mr. Fantastic took me to the baby store this week so we could get some necessities - diapers and wipes and whatnot. We've got pretty much everything assembled and now we're just trying to find the optimal arrangement in our little place for all this stuff.

I feel great, although I am really not getting much sleep. Partly just being uncomfortable, partly my brain racing a million miles an hour, and partly just not being able to stay asleep for very long at once. Am having lots of Braxton-Hicks contractions, which are not exactly painful per se, but which are really uncomfortable because they make my entire belly tighten up. And I think the baby has dropped, or at least he's Searching for the Great Egress lower than he used to be. Next appointment is on Tuesday again, will keep you all posted on the Peanut front.

Dad
Took Dad on the 28th to get sentenced for his DUI from back in April 08. As expected, they gave him the minimum 10 days mandatory in jail, plus fines, community service and probation. The good news is they gave him the option to join the Weekender Program, meaning he's allowed to go in on just the weekends. He got credit for time served, so he actually only has to do 4 consecutive weekends, from about 8 am on Saturday to 5 pm on Sunday, starting March 21. It sounds like it will be fairly easy - he won't even be "locked up" at night (the building itself will be locked, but not his particular room/cell), is allowed to wear what he wants as long as it's plain, and he may be required to do some chores as needed.

The best part is that Dad has asked my oldest brother JT to drive him to and from the facility on all four weekends, meaning I don't have to do it. Don't get me wrong, I am happy to help out my family as much as I can, but with a new baby, I was worried about being on point for that. And it was nice of Dad to just take care of it and not even ask me, because you know I wouldn't have said no.

Not a lot of news otherwise - he is supposed to be deciding on a course of treatment for the prostate cancer, either surgery to have it removed or doing radiation treatments along with the seed implants. Both would be preceded by a hormone shot that basically halts production of testosterone, which is what feeds the cancer. Nobody seems to be too worried about handling this too aggressively, so I am attempting not to worry about it and concentrate on other things, like Peanut and Steve.

Steve
Why am I worrying about Steve again? Well. Here's the tough part. The cancer is back. He started having a cough before Christmas, went in for a scan and they've found new tumors both in his brain and his lung, the same spots where they were before. We basically don't know a whole lot at this point - he has an appointment with the brain surgeon next Thursday to formulate a plan.

Mostly all we know is they want to treat the brain first - possibly using the gamma knife - then do some type of chemo for the lung. They are moving quickly, but they also keep saying we have options, so I am having mixed feelings about how hopeful I should be as far as the long-term prognosis, which they haven't said anything about. In the mean time, Steve's got this cough that won't go away and which is driving him crazy. He doesn't have a sore throat or anything, but there's fluid in the lung cavity, which makes it hard for him to breathe, so they've got him on oxygen again, and then the cough is because his body thinks there's something in there (the tumor) that it can get out by coughing. So he's got some cough medicine but it gives him nightmares, so either he doesn't sleep or he hardly sleeps. All in all, he's not feeling too hot these days. Just a short walk to the car wipes him out. He is adamant that I not do too much for him this time. With the baby coming, he doesn't want to depend on me so much. I know Dad will be a big help and Mr. Fantastic has offered to do whatever he can as well, but I can't help feeling in some way like I'm letting him down. I know that's silly, but it's in my nature; I can't help it.

So. More on that as we get news, but as always, we will gladly take any good karma you want to sling our way.

Week 36

Routine checkup yesterday with the measuring and the listening to the heartbeat, both of which were a-ok. Also did the Group B Strep test, the results of which I will find out at my next appointment. It's not a huge deal - 1 in 5 women are GBS carriers and most have no idea. All it means is that you'll have to have IV anitbiotics for a few hours once you go into labor so you don't pass it to the baby. Dr. O also did a cervical check and poked the baby's head! He, thankfully, did not seem to notice. She said that while I'm fingertip-width dilated, the baby's head is pretty far back, which means he's not engaged and hasn't dropped yet. Translation: it's gonna be another couple weeks. I am both happy and sad about this.

Sad because it means another 2-5 weeks of being pregnant, when I already feel so huge I can't imagine possibly getting any bigger, and not being able to sleep comfortably and the various other inconveniences and discomforts of pregnancy, and most of all, being anxious to meet my little one.

But it also makes me happy because despite all the various inconveniences and discomforts, I have greatly enjoyed being pregnant. Unlike a lot of women I've heard from, I've enjoyed seeing and feeling the changes in my body and sharing the pregnancy with Mr. Fantastic, and most of all, feeling Peanut moving inside me. That most of all is something I will miss acutely. I'm sure that once I have an actual baby to distract me, I won't notice so much, but right now just the thought of not feeling him rolling around in there anymore makes me so sad.

Also, I will cop to the fact that the closer it gets, the more I realize that I'M GOING TO BE SOMEBODY'S MOTHER, which is scary and freaky and exciting all at once. Not to mention, it's a lot easier to take care of a baby who lives inside me than one who lives on the outside. So I'm still overall happy to keep him inside just a leetle bit longer.

Almost every night, Mr. F and I lay on the couch or in bed with our hands on my belly, just feeling the baby move, and it's a really lovely time of closeness and connection for us. I'll miss that too, and I hope we can find a new way to do that once the baby's here.

Speaking of Peanut and moving around...since he's gotten bigger, there's less room for him to actually poke/kick/punch, and now it's more of a rolling, squirmy thing. It hurts less (usually not at all, except when he's got a foot lodged under my ribs) but looks a lot weirder. When the kiddo decides to start moving, the whole belly gets involved. And at times, I do get slightly concerned because I swear something is actually going to burst through. It's fascinating to watch - my stomach has become sentient. Literally! Some days, he moves around so much, I swear he is trying to escape or is looking for something. The exit, possibly, because it's pretty cramped in there.

I spend a lot of time staring down at my belly, watching it lurch around without any input from me. Many of my Conversations with Peanut these days involve me looking incredulously at my belly as it heaves itself to and fro and asking, "What are you doing in there?" Or sometimes it goes like this:

Peanut: *squirm squirm squirm JAB*
Belly: *barely retains the alien trying to escape*
Me: You do know there's only one way out of there, right?
Peanut: Yes! And it's right...here! *jams foot in my ribs*
Me: Ow!
Peanut: *squirms squirm roll* No, wait, it's...here! *pokes butt into the underside of my belly button*
Me: *headdesk*
Peanut: No,here! *continues squirming randomly*
Me: Seriously, dude...I promise, you will see the exit when it's time. You don't have to keep looking for it.
Peanut: I will not be vinced! *shakes tiny fist*

While enormously entertaining for both me and Mr. Fantastic at 7 in the evening, this is much less amusing at two in the morning. Even less so when Peanut seems to have exhausted his fruitless Search for the Great Egress and quiets down, only to develop hiccups thirty seconds later. The hiccups are a charming little tickle down near my left ovary that generally don't bother me when I'm not in bed trying to sleep. I don't even notice them after he initially starts, but when I'm in bed with nothing else to distract me? OY. Please smother me into unconsciousness, because all I want is to go to sleep.

Me: *watching clock in the dark* Please, please, please can we call off the Search for the Great Egress for a little while? It's not going anywhere and I'd really like to get some sleep.
Peanut: *grumbling* Fine! Fine. *flops around a few more times, petulantly arranging his pillow*
Me: *eyeroll* Are we done now, your highness? Thank you. *tries to sleep*
(Thirty seconds pass)
Peanut: ...
Me: ...
Crickets: *chirping*
Peanut: *hic*
Me: Nonononono! *pats belly* None of that now, sleepy time.
Peanut: *hic hic hic*
Me: Nooooo!
Peanut: *hic hic hic hic hic hichichichichichichic*
Me: Waily waily waily!

And so on, for what seems like eternity but which is actually less than ten minutes. I have resigned myself to this sleeping thing not actually improving once Peanut's out here in the world. (Waily.)

In other news, my baby shower is tomorrow and I'm so excited! My cousins (H's 1-3 and G and T) are hosting for me and I know they'll put on a lovely party. I'm excited to open presents and especially to see some people that I don't on a regular basis. Particularly some of Mummy Fantastic's friends who were also friends with my mom, and some of my other cousins who I haven't seen in a while. Instead of your traditional baby shower, we're doing a late afternoon/early evening cocktail party type of thing, with, most importantly, no bloody games. I hate baby and bridal showers, mostly because they take up your Saturday afternoon with stupid games and don't even have the decency to get you drunk so it's tolerable. So I told my cousins the only thing I really cared about was games = no, alcohol = yes, and they, all being of excellently like minds, agreed. We actually all discussed this when we planned H3's baby shower back in October, and she felt the same way, so we've already thrown one excellent baby shower.

We're also having our last open house for the condo tomorrow. I don't know how I feel about that - I mean, what if we get an offer on the place now? I would be absolutely useless to help with a move at this point. I can barely bend over, let alone actually lift anything. I mean, I was very keen on moving asap a couple of months ago and I still want an actual house but I guess I had reconciled myself to being here for a few months after the baby. So I'm having mixed feelings. I'm sure whatever happens will be for the best but it is certainly a daunting prospect that's being moved to the front of my mind again.

Week 35

Another checkup today. Not much news, with the exception that Dr. O has caved in the face of my excellent sugar numbers and conceded that there is just no way I have gestational diabetes and am very unlikely to get it at this stage of the game. Ha!

Downside: she still wants me to test once a week. But! Once a week! That's nothing. She also did not do anything crazy like order another ultrasound or anything, just measured me and listened to the heartbeat and chatted.

In ten days, I have my next appointment, where I have to have a Group B Strep test, which is apparently not entirely pleasant and is reminiscent of your annual Gyno visit. Not looking forward to that. And then after that, I'll be going in once a week until the baby. I can't believe how quickly time has gone by. It seems like just yesterday my pants were getting a little tight...and now I'm hiding a basketball under my shirt.

I am writing a birth plan, which Dr. O was very receptive to. She even gave me some suggestions as to what to include. After much research and discussion, Mr. F and I are very concerned about having a C-section, mostly because it happens very often unnecessarily. There are many, many instances where a woman is pushed into a C-sec for "failure to progress" when she has not been allowed very much time for pushing or progress - sometimes as little as 4 hours. The average labor is 14 hours (and I think this would be higher if women weren't herded into C-sections so quickly.) Often, doctors will make this decision because they just want to get the delivery over with - I don't have the source with me right now, but we read somewhere that a majority of C-secs happen between 4-5 pm, when the doctor wants to get home in time for dinner. Also, it happens a lot when you doctor has plans the next day. Take my cousin H3, for example - her doctor was leaving for vacation the next morning. I'm not saying she had an unnecessary section, but it's definitely possible that the doctor's vacation plans and want to get home sooner may have factored into his decision making.

Anyway, Dr. O and I talked about it a bit and she reassured me that she (and the other docs at her practice) don't take the C-section lightly and respect our desire to avoid it. Of course, this came with all the blah blah caveats about doing what's necessary for a healthy baby at the end, so it may have just been a bunch of hoo-ha to placate me. Seeing as Mr. F and I have decided we don't want a bunch of people in the delivery room with us (meaning, nobody besides us and the medical staff), Mr. F knows he is my advocate and will be speaking up on my behalf if I don't or can't. I've been surprised at just how much knowledge he's absorbed through this whole process and I feel really good about how much we've discussed and agreed on about the way we want the delivery to go.

[Speaking of people in the delivery room - we haven't really talked to anyone much about who we are or are not having in the delivery room with us. I think if my mom was still alive, it'd be different - I know she'd want to be in there, at the very least. But we've really only had one person even ask about it and that was a month ago, and I just said we hadn't really decided. I don't want to hurt anybody's feelings, but I don't think it will be a problem. With a bunch of men on my side, I don't think we have to worry about them wanting to be there, and Mr. F's family have always been wonderful to me and I cannot even imagine any hurt feelings or contention about it. All any of our family wants is for us to be happy and have a healthy baby. (I have to say again that I have the best family-in-law, especially Mummy Fantastic, that anybody could ask for. I could write an essay on the awesomeness of my mother-in-law alone.)]

Dr. O did mention that one of the best ways to help avoid a C-section is to labor at home for as long as possible. She said specifically not to come in right away and to keep active at home and that we should just give them a call when things got going. This totally makes sense with all the research we've done. The more time you're in the hospital, the more opportunity you have for them to start wanting to monitor you and do all kinds of "helpful" testing that actually doesn't really help much at all, and in fact, can lead to further intervention due to false positives. Plus, they generally give you a 24-hour window from the time your water breaks before they start worrying about infection and section you. So if you don't go in right away, they can't start the clock on you and that gives you extra time to progress.

One thing that did concern me was that Dr. O said they don't like to let people go more than a week beyond the due date before they induce. I'd prefer they allow two weeks, but hopefully this is not a battle we will have to fight. (Please, please, OMG, please do not let this baby go two weeks postdates! Oy. I already feel huge and waddly enough.) For another bunch of reasons, induction is something else we really, really want to avoid, so you can bet when the time comes, I will be doing every trick I can think of to get this baby to get started on his own.

We have started our childbirth preparation classes - 3 hours every Wednesday night for 4 weeks. The first week they didn't tell us much we didn't already know, but we did learn that Peanut is in the OPTIMAL BIRTHING POSITION, otherwise known as Left Occiput Anterior. That means head down and feet kicking me on the right, basically. We also did some relaxation stuff that was nice, but mostly it was anatomy and getting to know the other students. And she talked alot about how fear causes tension which causes pain, so if we went into the process well-educated, we wouldn't be as scared, therefore, we'd relax easier, ultimately resulting in less pain. Which I am totally down with. She handed out a sheet with some affirmations on it, one of which was something ridiculously cheesy like "My cervix is like a flower, the petals gently opening to welcome my child," and which totally cracked Mr. F and I up, and so we've decided our relaxation affirmation is going to be "My cervix is like a leaf on the wind." Except I don't know how relaxing that will be if we're cracking up every time we say it. Anyway, hopefully next time will be more educational.

Oh! And guess what? I have found a remedy for the ANGRY LADYPARTS. The swimming pool! It is actually a remedy for all pregnancy-related ills, because when we went swimming last nigt, aside from the obvious basketball I was smuggling, I could not even tell I was pregnant once I got in the water. It was like magic. Nothing hurt, at all! I mostly floated around (or had Mr. F tow me) on a couple of those pool noodles for an hour while Mr. F did the actual swimming part. And Peanut, who has spent the last two weeks working a foot up under the right side of my ribcage and waggling it around, OW, even seemed to enjoy it because he calmed right down and hardly walloped me at all. It was heavenly! I forgot the ladyparts were hurting until I got out of the pool. That was kind of a downer, but it was lovely being in the water and remembering what it was like to feel so light. Needless to say, we will be making much more use of the pool in the next fortysomething days. Ahh.

VH1 has the most excellent programming ever. Aside from legitimately cool shows like Best Week Ever, Where Are They Now, Movies that Rock and their actual music stuff like blocks of videos, Top 20 Countdown and 100 Greatest, they have become kings of train wreck reality programming. As many of you know, I am a huge sucker for reality t.v. While I love my scripted shows, I have a giant soft spot for "unscripted" shows as well. My favorites are the classier of the genre, like Amazing Race and Biggest Loser, which tend to focus more on some kind of wholesome competition/goal/team thing. But there is something about these trashy, train wreck shows that basically focus on the FAIL of the cast that draws me in. I can't believe there are people who actually go out and behave this way on t.v., whether it's their "real" personality or not. It's mesmerizing, to see what people put out there.

New this year on VH1:
- Celebrity Rehab Sober House (which I haven't seen yet, but come on, if it's anything like Celebrity Rehab it can't fail but be train wreckingly awesome)
- Rock of Love Bus (Bret Michaels and his third try at finding his soulmate from among a bunch of trashy drunk whores)
- Confessions of a Teen Idol (of group of former teen idols move in together to talk about their train wreck lives and their desire to be famous again, and which includes among others, Adrian Zmed, Christopher Atkins, two dudes from Baywatch and Eric Nies, formerly of the first Real World and subsequent Mtv Workout show The Grind)

And the show I am watching now, Tool Academy. Which is the most unfailingly awesome of the new shows, in which a bunch of party animal jackasses' girlfriends nominated them for Boyfriend Improvement Camp, aka Tool Academy. The best part? The guys think they are competing for the title of MR. AWESOME. The realization that their girlfriends (and the rest of the viewing world) think they are a bunch of tools in need of serious intervention is only marginally tempered by the fact that the winner gets $100k.

Right now, the entire group of Tools plus their beleagured DTMFA* girlfriends are watching the Tools' candid confessional interviews, in which they brag about their exploits and how well they have their girlfriends trained and how much they cheat on them and in which they show their disrespectful, asshat, tool-y base natures. My god, these guys are serious tools and deserve all the beatdown they get. I cannot believe any of these women claims to love these guys.

Also awesome about this show is that when they do interveiws with each guy, they put his name up and below that, they put what kind of tool he is. For example, there's Rob: Power Tool (the biggest jackass of them all), and Matsuflex: Naked Tool (a stripper), Josh: Tiny Tool (a little dude), and Tommy: Slacker Tool (jobless). Much in the same way that other shows call their contestants "bachelors" or whatever, this show consistently calls the guys Tools. As in, "Will the three remaining Tools please step forward?" AND THEY DO. They respond to being called tools, and have even begun to self-refer as such. I can't explain the awesome of this.

There are also apparently team challenges, like today's, where the girl has to build a bed and the guy has to read her the instructions and is unable to physically assist her. One of the girls is praised by the show therapist for "redirecting" her boyfriend and getting him to focus on the task at hand when he starts jackassing for the camera. The girl does this by saying, "Brian, can you focus on this now instead of being a tool?" This is what counts for good communication on this show. Snerk.

At the end of each week, one guy will be declared too toolicious to improve and will be expelled from Tool Academy, at which point his girlfriend will have to decide if she wants to break up with him now or later. And the way they're expelled? The host says, "I'm sorry...you're just a tool." Hee! It's also pretty priceless that some of them still think they're somehow still competing for the MR. AWESOME title, while others have realized that getting expelled means they're the biggest, faily-est tool in the cabinet. Or, as Joey: Cold Hearted Tool puts it upon his non-expulsion this week, "I may be a tool, but at least I'm not the Grand Poobah King Tool of 'em all." I can't wait for more episodes.

*DTMFA = Dump the motherfucker, already. Thank you, Dan Savage. Seriously, not a single one of these guys deserves the girl they are with, let alone ANY girl at all.

Week 33

Had an ultrasound and OB visit this morning. The ultrasound was to check growth, again, because Dr. Owens is crazy. Okay, because she's still worried about the gestational diabetes (because she is crazy.) So the scan was great and Susie the Ultrasound Lady estimates Peanut to be about 4 pounds 5 ounces and all the other measurements she took (like head circumfrence, femur length, etc.) show him to be measuring right on target - somewhere in the 50-52nd percentile.

I asked her where various parts were because I've been so lopsided on the right. My belly is all hard on the right, and that's also where I get most of the big movement, so I had kind of figured Peanut was all crammed over on the right side there. But it turns out, he is head down with his back to my left side. There's a big hard bump right in the middle, just above my belly button, which we had guessed was his butt and Susie the Ultrasound Lady confirmed that, but said that it's his hands, feet, elbows and knees all over there on the right and that's why I feel so much over there. I think maybe he's angled in there with his back more towards my back and all the small parts more toward the front and that's why it seems almost empty over on the left.

Then we saw Dr. Guggenheim, (one of Dr. O's partners because Dr. O is on vacation) who was very pleased with the scan and with my 4X daily glucose checks for the last almost-a-month. She measured me and said I'm right on target too and was extraordinarily pleased with my progress. She used the word perfect several times and said she wishes all their patients were like me. The best part is that she doesn't think I have GD at all. However, she wants me to contine testing myself every other day for the next two weeks (until next appt with Dr. O) or until I run out of my testing supplies. Progress! At least I get to cut back the finger-sticking a bit and hopefully, hopefully Dr. O will DROP IT ALREADY by next time.

Although there's no way to tell on the ultrasound, the book estimates Peanut is about 17 inches long and says he is mostly done cooking. Now all he's really doing is some final brain development and gaining weight. And, as warned by the book, I am experiencing shortness of breath frequently as Peanut is taking up more and more room and blithely shoving my organs around. It's really annoying to be sitting on the couch, panting like I just ran a marathon. Lots of deep breaths help, and thankfully, it's not all the time.

And good news, we got some great baby stuff for Christmas - some clothes, the softest teddy bear ever, a swing and somehow, each of my brothers ended up getting us a Pack n Play. We have traded one of those in for the stroller/carseat travel system, so yay! Peanut won't have to go naked or sleep in a drawer now. And even better, Steve says we can leave the big stuff at his place for as long as we need to, which will prolly be until my baby shower on Jan 24, at which point we're going to call it quits for a while on trying to sell the condo and make room for baby.

Ok, finally, I am going to tell you something very much TMI that nobody told me until I started asking my girlfriends about it and then many of them breezily said, oh, yes, that happened to me, la la la, as if it was nothing. For the last couple of weeks, my, er, external ladyparts HURT. I am achy from pubic bone to tailbone, all on the outside. It's very weird - feels like I've been excessively riding a bicycle with a really large seat and is making me walk funnier than I already do what with the pregnant waddle I've acquired.

The books tell you that your ladyparts may get "somewhat swollen" and "may turn a darker color." Let me tell you that when I finally examined the ladyparts in a mirror last night because they were hurting so much, I did not recognize my own vajayjay. They are not kidding about the swelling - the entire area is puffed up like I've never seen before and is a super dark red color. The hoo-ha looks ANGRY. (This is especially funny because Mr. Fantastic, being ever-supportive, was holding the mirror for me so I could have both hands free to examine the ladyparts, and we both had matching OMG faces upon getting an eyefull of my junk.)

This would have been nice to know ahead of time, and trust me when I tell you that the books' timid little "may do this" and "might get that" did not do justice to the angry tiki god in my pants. I mean, everybody knows about the barfing and peeing and hemorrhoids (which I thankfully have not gotten, KNOCK WOOD) but nobody told me that my ladyparts would eventually look and feel like they'd been flogged BEFORE the baby comes. I mean, I expect some unhappy ladyparts after having the baby but I was not prepared for the angry puffer fish to happen already.

The doctor assured me this morning that this is totally normal and that I can take Tylenol to help but that basically it's going to stay this way until the baby comes. I have also tried stuffing both a heating pad (very soothing and nice) and an ice pack (horrible, horrible, OMG, NO) down my pants. Oh, and she also mentioned stretching...which, um, I will gladly try but I don't see how that is going to help some of the more specific of the parts as opposed to the whole ladyregion in general.

Week 31

I am in a much better state of mind these days, thank goodness. There has been no crying and much, much less freaking out. Hooray!

Got two Christmas presents in the mail from friends recently - a handmade story cookbook and Clinton Kelly's (from What Not to Wear) book, Freakin' Fabulous. I'm excited to sit down and read them both, and was so thrilled to get unexpected presents in the mail - one from Bolton, England! Both were really nice surprises that made my day.

Mr. Fantastic and I got most of our Christmas shopping done and wrapped over the weekend, so not only is our tree all festive and happy looking, I am breathing a sigh of relief that we've got that off our plates. And, even more exciting, we got an offer on our condo! If all goes well, we could be out and into a new place by the middle of January and I can stop worrying about my poor Little Tiny Naked Baby sleeping in a drawer. (Which, truly, I am not doing so much anymore. I'm still itching to nest but I feel much less antsy about things right now.)

We had lunch with our friends Erin and Matt and their two baby girls today. It was lovely to see them, and Erin has promised to go with me this week to complete my baby registry and help me make sure I register for what I need and skip all the crap I don't. As a mother of a newborn and a less-than-two year old, she should know. She also wisely suggested that I finish registering before Christmas in case anyone wants to get us baby stuff. (In fact, every time anyone has asked Mr. F what he wants for Christmas, he says "Baby stuff!" so it's prolly a good idea.)

My cousins have planned my baby shower for January 24 and I am very much looking forward to it. Should we happen to still be living in the condo by then, we're going to call a halt to the whole moving house proceedings until after Peanut arrives so that we can set up and make a place for the baby and figure out what to do with all the baby things I'll hopefully be receiving at the shower. As a bonus, my brother has said if we run out of room, we can keep anything we need to at his place, which eases my mind a bit as well.

Ooh, and I'm going to be an (honorary) Aunt again soon! My cousin H3 is due on Christmas Eve but it looks like she'll probably be having her baby sometime this week. I can't believe it's already her time, and it makes it seem like Peanut's arrival is even more imminent. I can't wait to meet her little boy and see her become a mama.

And finally, in Official News of the Peanut: Had an OB visit this morning. It went well. I am measuring 30 cm, which is right on target. And I have been self-checking my glucose four times a day for almost a week now, with excellent results. Only two of the readings were high an hour after eating, both times after fast food, and both of which had returned to well below the threshold after two hours. Dr. O was pleased with the testing and sees no need for me to go on any medication or to do any further follow up with the gestational diabetes specialist.

The downside is that she wants me to continue the self-checks four times a day for the next two weeks because even though the majority of my tests were fine, sugar levels can only get worse as pregnancy and pregnancy hormones progress. It's like she just can't truly believe that I don't have or won't get gestational diabetes all because of the high score on the glucose test, regardless of the fact that it's biased against me AND routinely has a 60-70% false positive rate. But I can hack two more weeks of self checks. I can handle two more months of self checks if that's what it takes.

She also wants another growth ultrasound in two weeks, just to keep an eye on the baby's size. Which, yay, we get to see the baby again, but boo, because I really don't think it's necessary since I'm measuring on track and my glucose is fine. However, when I go back in two weeks, Dr. O will be on vacation, so perhaps I can sweet talk this Dr. Guggenheim I will be seeing (and by proxy Dr. O) into not worrying about all this so much. Much as the pricking my finger for the self-check doesn't really hurt, I'm already sick of doing it four times a day. I know that all of this hoopla is mostly a CYA for the doc but it's a giant PITA for me.

Oh, and she wants me to get a flu shot, even though I never get one because I seem to end up getting sick when I get them but I never get the flu when I don't get one. Weird, I know, but it was the same way with my mom. Anyway, I suppose it wouldn't hurt to give it a try this year, because should I happen to get the flu, I will be a million times more miserable being flu-ridden and pregnant.

Otherwise, I feel pretty good except for my continued lament of feeling HUGE. I am actually sleeping pretty well - have figured out a good configuration of my nine million pillows and my brain has quieted down at night. Peanut seems to have taken up residence completely on the right side of my belly - I am visibly lopsided and very solid on the right side, while the left seems practically hollow. We are apparently not worried about this right now, although it's not the best position for delivery. Plenty of time for him to get situated better in the next 69 days, according to Dr. O.

Meanwhile, Peanut is not pulling any punches in making himself completely comfortable. As he gets bigger, the movements I feel are less kicks and punches and more wiggling and squirming, which seriously gives my lopsided belly the appearance of an alien trying to escape when he starts shuffling around in there. Every day makes it more and more real that it's a Little Tiny Naked Person making himself at home in my belly. And every day Mr. F and I talk to him more and fall more in love with him and look more and more forward to the day we get to meet him.

In other news, it was below 0 all day today and ridiculously cold last night. Still below 0 right now, so I am thanking goodness for our heated mattress pad, because it gets cold in our bedroom at night, even if we run the heater. Brr! I wish my long underwear fit over my belly because I would be wearing both pairs right now if I could. But at least it feels like Christmas time with the sparkly snow and freezing weather and my happy little tree full of gifts.

I find myself increasingly bored with all my t.v. shows lately. Heroes, Sarah Connor Chronicles, Eli Stone - I'm done with. Totally over. I don't know how it happened but Heroes became a total snoozefest that I put on in the background while I do the dishes. I figure I'll finish out the seasons on all of them, but those are three series recordings I'll be canceling. Even Chuck is somehow failing to hold my attention. I still madly love Pushing Daisies, but of course that means they've canceled it.

That said, how is it that Grey's Anatomy is finally making me enjoy it again? Oh, that's right...by making Izzy crazy and bringing back her hot dead fiancee. Mmm, Jeffrey Dean Morgan, how I love you. Also, adding in Kevin McKidd didn't hurt at all.

House, Life and The Mentalist are still entertaining me, at least. And I still love my Stargate Atlantis, but it's bittersweet because every episode brings us closer to the end. The good part about this is that means the writers can finally stop screwing up the show. (Brain Storm, I'm looking at you.)

I even went so far as to watch the first eight or so eps of Merlin and failed to be captivated like the rest of my flist has been. Sigh. Thank goodness for books. I will happily take your recs for new shows to try watching (and where I can find them) or books to read.

Week 29

I have finally succumbed to the baby hormones. The last two weeks I have started getting alternately freaked out, depressed, stressed, etc. about numerous things. The thing with the gestational diabetes started me off and now I am worrying about everything. There has been crying. And also sometimes maniacal laughter.

Some of the things on my mind:

~ Gestational diabetes. I got a 183 on the glucose test and a 69 on the regular fasting test. They are looking for something from 70-130. So even though my regular test was fine and the glucose test is basically biased against me because of my bypass, my doctor is convinced I have GD anyway. She was ready to have me start seeing a diabetes specialist and maybe put me on insulin and everything.

I’m pretty sure I don’t have it, so we discussed it some more and the doc is going to let me test my blood sugar at home for a week before we do anything more drastic. I had to go this week and pick up the meter and testing strips and everything. So hopefully I will test fine for a week and we can forget about it. (And! The glucose testing stuff - lancets, test strips and meter - would have cost me several HUNDRED dollars if my health insurance hadn't picked up the entire tab for me. Shocking that they want over $113 for a box of 100 test strips. Yikes!)

~ I am a giant whale. No, seriously. I feel like one and here is photographic evidence. Even though my doctor keeps telling me the baby is not a giant mutant, I feel like he is. My belly is getting bigger by the minute and Peanut is getting stronger every day. Which means he is giving me some serious wallops while he does his calisthenics in there. I've taken to saying URK and clutching my side when he whacks me a good one, which freaks Mr. Fantastic out to no end, so I've got to stop doing it. Exciting discovery this week: I can't get out of the car on my own. I'm learning how to do it without help, but in the mean time Mr. F has to help hoist. It makes a girl feel like such a delicate, glowing flower.

Sleeping is getting harder, too. If my brain wasn't already going a million miles an hour, I don't think I'd be able to sleep anyway because it's so hard to get comfortable. My nine million pillows are not helping, at least until I can figure out a new configuration. I may need to invest in some flying buttresses. By the way, the neice and nephew are now calling Peanut "Turkey" and doubtless it will be something like "Bowl Full of Jelly" come Christmas.

Thank goodness for Mr. F. He's been a spectacular help by providing back and belly rubs on demand. It is unbelievable how achy my sides and belly are now that they're doing some serious stretching, not to mention the low back aches from carrying around this bowling ball. I shudder to think what it's going to feel like in three months.

So I am having these fun feelings of OMG I'M ALREADY HUGE AND I'VE GOT THREE MORE MONTHS IN WHICH I AM ONLY GOING TO GET BIGGER, seeing as Our Peanut is supposed to double or possibly triple in size between now and the end. Gack.

~ ALSO. Moving. This is the big one. I cannot anti-recommend enough deciding to move house while you are pregnant. It's killing me. I am ready to start nesting and getting ready for the baby and I can't. It may be that we end up not selling our place and actually stay in the condo for a while after the baby's born. Or we might end up selling and getting a new place before then. What this boils down to is, we can't buy anything for the baby or move in the furniture from Mr. Fantastic's cousin because we have no place to put it. At some point, we are going to have to jump ship and make a decision that we're staying put until after the baby's born, and then we'll be able to stop keeping our condo showplace-ready for buyers all the time and start setting up for Peanut. The question is, when do we do that? January? February? I don't know how long we should give it but I don't want to wait until the last minute. Not knowing if we're staying or going is really getting the best of me.

So I am also having these super-fun feelings of OMG THERE'S GOING TO BE A BABY IN 12 WEEKS AND HE WILL HAVE TO GO NAKED AND SLEEP IN A DRAWER because we as yet have nothing for him to wear, play with or sleep in. I am certain this will all be rectified sometime in the next three months. I know that for centuries, babies actually did sleep in drawers and go naked and were birthed in fields and people were fine without having everything all sorted ahead of time. I AM NOT THOSE PEOPLE. So for now, my super-organized planner brain is quietly freaking the frak out.

Otherwise, I mostly good, except for the parts where I'm not. I'm sure it will get better. Until then, so it goes.

Or, me, Dad, Steve and Mr. Fantastic (twice!) as disco elves.