starting to feel it

I'm thoroughly exhausted after 12 hours/day on my feet.

My abdomen appears to have grown 20% in size in the last few days. And, for the first time, my belly has been uncomfortable at night - I need a pillow to prop it up.

My feet are so swollen I can hardly get them into my sneakers, let alone any pretty shoes!

I finally feel pregnant. :)

But really, compared to 99% of the pregnant population, I still feel great.

Had another midwife appointment yesterday. She couldn't get a vein for my 28-week labwork, which was hilarious. She felt awful about it - the 2nd or 3rd attempt resulted in blood spraying everywhere - but I was too busy laughing about it. I told her how many shots I took to GET this far, to try to make her feel better!

Baby was close to the surface of my belly last night - kinda curled up like a banana - so I got DH to trace the outline of the body. He was grossed out by that. Haha.

Off to get my hair butchered. I've been growing it out, but it just doesn't look good, due to the wavy texture, and it's starting to look like a 'tired mommy' 'do, which does not go with my cute wardrobe and cute bump. And I don't have time to straighten it every day. Guess I'm going short-ish again, plus I'm getting it coloured - hope it looks good. I want a low-maintenance cut for the winter, which will be difficult to achieve, since my hair is so annoying!

28 weeks!

Third trimester! There are conflicting reports as to when 3rd tri begins, so I’m going to stick with 28 weeks. Today! Hurray for Ninja!

Coincidentally – or maybe not so much – today was the first day I felt huge. Not painful or even uncomfortable; just weirdly enormous. DH and I have to hug ‘sideways,’ otherwise my belly gets squashed. It’s lovely.

I must say that I’m massively lucky to be able to stay on my feet all day. (My feet are swollen, but that’s about it – they don’t hurt – I just can’t wear my pretty shoes.) I don’t even sit down for lunch, really, and I don’t feel bad by the end of the day: just tired, but I always feel that way after a day of teaching. I said to DH about six times tonight that I’m lucky to be so mobile.

Ninja’s movements are becoming more pronounced. I can distinctly feel certain limbs, and I know where his head is (because when he’s active I can see and feel it bobbing along the surface of my abdomen!). When he makes a major shift it feels like the barometric pressure is changing in my stomach. Fantastic. A few days ago I was lying down with my laptop, and noticed that my stomach was crooked. I poked the bulge, and it was definitely a bum. So – because I couldn’t resist – I poked it until he repositioned himself … away from my obnoxious fingers. Oh, the dear babe is going to be so annoyed with me! ;)

I wonder at what point the kicks and punches start to hurt. Nothing has been painful yet, but I keep getting the “just you wait” comments about that. I’m sure it’ll happen soon enough as revenge for my intrusions into Ninja’s inner sanctum. (Sorry, babe, the sanctum belongs to me.)

Two days ago, DH already put out the feelers re: when we’re using the remaining embryos. Yes, this seems a bit premature to ask, considering that we don't yet have a 'take-home' baby, but he’s pushing 40 and he doesn’t want to be an older father. His dad was over 40 when he was born, and he’s already gone; that’s been hard on my poor DH. So this is something to think about.

pondering the heiny flu

Media hype. What to believe? What not to believe?

In my case: piggy disease. Aka: H1N1. Or, as DH terms it, 'heiny flu.' ('Heiny' meaning 'bum.' And then he laughs hysterically.)

To vaccinate or not to vaccinate?

Phoned up the midwife. One of my questions, which hasn’t been addressed by the media, is: what was the socioeconomic status of the pregnant women who’ve died from H1N1? – because if most victims were impoverished, of course they’re more likely to die. Confirming my suspicions, she said that most pregnant women who’ve died from this flu are those who were poor (i.e., living in substandard housing, eating poorly, drinking unsafe water) and/or were immuno-compromised to begin with (e.g., recurrent bronchitis). I am neither.

She also shared info on the vaccine’s ingredients, and said that if I decide to get it, I should go to my family doctor, who has the mercury-free version.

Overall, though, she didn’t express a preference one way or the other. All she asked was that I make an informed choice, because she didn’t want me to get vaccinated if I had doubts in my mind.

So now I’ll have to do some more research.

I’m getting nervous about this decision, especially since I work in a germy environment. The custodians do their best to clean and disinfect, but come on, we’re spending time with icky teenagers who sneeze on everything and share drinks and kiss each other. Today I had 10-12 students out sick.

Wonder what they’ve got.

I also asked about Ninja’s reduced movements as of late – he hasn’t been much of a ninja! – and she said it’s normal, since he’s getting less space to move around. So I’ll keep an eye on it, and if I’m not comfortable, I’ll go in so she can check things out.

names

DH decided last week that he didn’t like any of the names he picked out, so now he says that I’m supposed to create a short-list, and he’ll choose the winners. In theory, this sounds good, but I know he’ll hate everything I like! (Plus I'm a little disappointed that he didn't want to use the name of his deceased father, but I understand that would be too hard on DH to have a kid running around with his dad's name.) So we’ll see how that goes.

I don’t care for most names in general, which I know sounds odd, but it’s just that most names are so ... common ... and anything unusual often sounds strange, plus people make fun of it. That said, DH tends toward the traditional, and I prefer unique names. (We do agree, though, that we don’t like trendy names. So Makayla and Zachary are out, no offense.) I hope we can meet in the middle by finding atypical names that aren’t outlandish.

In the end, though, I don’t really care. If DH is hung up on a certain name that I don’t like, I’ll deal with it. Whatever. I just want a baby to attach to the name.

27 weeks!

27 weeks today! Apparently the baby weighs almost two pounds and he can open his eyelids. With that, I have – as far as I know – a functioning human being inside of me. With hair and fingernails and everything, which is kind of gross, when you think about it!

Speaking of gross, I told DH last week or so that if Ninja is in fact a boy, his testicles were in the process of descending to his scrotum. I barely got the words out when DH responded abruptly, “And I’ll tell you right now that he’s already playing with them.” Haha.

Very stressful day, otherwise. Ninja’s movements decreased today – I don’t like that. He was lying too far back in my uterus for me to use my new strategy to wake him. I used the doppler today for the first time in a few months, and his heartrate bounced around quite a bit. I didn’t phone the midwife, and I should have. But now that I’m lying down for the first time today, he’s moving around, so I guess it’s okay.

Plus I bungled details of my thesis defence, and it’s entirely my fault. Thank God and all that’s good for my thesis advisor, who is rushing in to save the day, and for my DH, who is not annoyed with me for dropping the ball.

bully with a licence

One of those sleepless nights again. Yay. I wish I could call in sick to work – I’m going to be a wreck tomorrow – but I don’t want to miss my classes.

Well, at least DH and I finally dtd! I did have to ask if my newly expanded frame – I’ve always had a flat stomach – was a turnoff to him, since it’s been so long. (I don’t think I’m a turnoff, incidentally: I’ve taken just as much care with my appearance now as I did before I got knocked up.) He said no, it was just that sex with a basketball belly presented a challenge, plus I’m as dry as Letterman’s wit. So experimentation with positions and a dash of organic canola oil solved those problems.

Ninja hasn’t been awake for a few hours now, so – now that I know I can find his major appendages almost at whim – I felt around until I found an arm, and stroked it down both sides. He woke up and stretched lazily for a minute, then went back to sleep.

That’s more reassuring than any doppler!

I told DH about my minor manipulation of Ninja’s body, and he’s calling me a bully with a licence (which is usually what he calls me in the capacity of teacher).

18 oct

I’ve been able to feel Ninja’s head since the first time DH located it; but tonight I discovered I can do more than that. As I type this, I’m busy bugging my poor baby. Just now, I got a pretty good grip on his head and moved him an inch to the left. He didn’t like that, and so I got a flurry of little fists against my hand. hahaha

17 oct

Saturday, October 17, 2009

Had a lovely day – and I deserved it! Sat online at the public library – despite the crappy connection that timed out every five minutes – and caught up on blogging, emails, FB, and so on. Almost finished thesis revisions, too: I have 2 pages left to write. And then I went to a thrift shop to see if I could score a few baby sleepers: nope, but I did find a sleep sack, a hooded towel, and a cap, as well as a few pretty tops and a cardigan for myself that I hope will be convenient to wear while nursing. I left for home feeling so relaxed that I wasn’t paying attention while driving!

But instead of hitting something literally, I hit a figurative target: tonight I reached a very cool milestone! DH and I and his nephew and girlfriend were watching the movie Transformers. Ninja was playing around – he’s always the most busy when I’m sitting beside DH – and DH remarked that he was definitely having a party in there. I was resting one hand on my belly. Then I nearly jumped off the couch – I felt the baby’s arm! I grabbed DH’s hand and guided it over the little bump so he could feel it, too! I poked around a bit and could determine for a moment an elbow and even a hand pushing outward.

It is the height of coolness.

I spent the rest of the movie thinking about how very lucky I am, as I often do these days.

I love being pregnant. I do. This is not just me being the ‘brave infertile’ who vowed that if she ever got pregnant she wouldn’t complain about anything ever again. I truly have nothing to groan about so far. I suppose I could bemoan the awakening sciatic nerve, the dizzy spells, the swollen feet, etc., but I don’t. I don’t really think about any of it. People give me pitying looks for being pregnant – I know, of course, that they mean well: they’re just trying to be nice because they assume I must be feeling terrible – and I can’t help but look at them strangely, because for what reason do I need sympathy? I feel so blessed.

In fact, my midwife asked on her FB what all of us, her clients, find to be the best part of pregnancy, and beneath everyone else’s complaints I wrote “Everything.” I’ve loved it all, even the weird things like poutine cravings and first-trimester fatigue and my changing body and ugly maternity clothes. Though I know that the most challenging parts of pregnancy – other than my first-trimester freakouts about the 2ww, no lines on the pee stick and the non-doubling betas, all of which were still my version of hell – are yet to come.

I know I’m lucky to have had an incredibly easy time of things: I didn’t get morning sickness, I’m still able to stay on my feet for hours at a time, and I haven’t had a drop of spotting. Ninja is kicking as I write this post, so I know he’s still alive, and I’m glad, and I love him. I’m grateful, and I am not taking a minute of it for granted.

This is my belated Thanksgiving.

parental unit trouble - steer clear if ur bored of hearing me whine about this. lol

Friday, October 16

Parents showed up today, bearing food, which I most emphatically did not want. They’re just trying to soothe their guilty consciences (and my mom confirmed this to me in the brief moment that we were alone). Good thing a bunch of my in-laws were over, helping DH gut the basement. But what a crappy Friday evening it was. It was THE FIRST TIME that MY OWN MOTHER has seen my new house, even though she lives 20 minutes away. Because she only has time on Sundays, and Sundays DH and I are usually away. So finally she decided to make time on a Friday night. Hurray for her.
And then they had the nerve to give me a note on which they wrote 2 cheesy quotations about the preciousness of daughters. Mm hm.

The Misfit inquired as to why my parents are being like this; specifically, she asked if they were elderly and/or infirm. They are, in fact, neither. If they were, I would never have expected anything from them. They are simply very hung up on:

- their jobs (which is actually fine with me – I think most people are this way),
- their church (with which I have some difficulty, since I feel that they’d sooner run to help a sick fellow church member than an ailing daughter),
- and their stupid hobby farm (I don’t have an issue with animals coming #1, since, for instance, you can’t exactly ask a milk cow to wait; rather, it’s their attitude toward the garden and the yard that make me angry, since hoeing and picking raspberries and mowing the grass were FAR more important to them than their pregnant, sick, and overworked daughter, and it has always been that way with them; they never even came to see me once in the years I lived in another province, just because they were too busy).

Also, Mom decided that running Dad’s errands were more important because He is her Spouse and therefore Must Come Before All Others, no matter what.

They can say sorry until they’re blue in the face (which they haven’t done, incidentally); the fact of the matter is that they don’t have time for me except on Sunday afternoons, and that won’t change until they are elderly and infirm.

(As far as my brother and SIL go, I don’t know what their problem is. I haven’t even seen them since the August debacle. They’re also more likely to help a friend or a church member than their own family. Which is so ludicrous to me, considering that I’ve always dropped everything to help them whenever needed. In fact, they had a huge monster of a problem facing them – I can’t go into details because it’s a legal matter – and it was only solved when I stepped in – and dropped my own work in the meantime – to get the job done. There’s gratitude for you.)

That’s my ‘cat’s in the cradle’ story. My parents are pretty shortsighted, if you ask me. Wait a decade or 2 until they can’t keep up with their precious yard – there isn’t even anything special about this acreage, incidentally: it’s just acres of grass and a house and outbuildings in need of repair – and then they’ll want me around, and they’ll be pissed if I’m not. And it’ll be, of course, my fault.

I don’t think they realize what they’ve done. I was planning to keep a garden at their place – I thought this would be great for Ninja, too – and they’d told me, after thinking about it a while, that that was ok. However, I’ve realized that this will not be possible, because they will expect me to be there every day in spring and summer, working on both my plot and the rest of their garden (which is huge – it’s a mini-field, and even though they use only about half of it, they still hoe and till the unused portion, for whatever dumb reason), and they’ll bitch about it if I only go once/week (which is really all that’s necessary, and likely all I’d be able to accomplish with a newborn).

As well, I don’t want to go to their house anymore, even after we make up, because my mom has (for the last time) made me feel awful about supposedly ‘leaving a mess’ at their place, even though I DON’T! My parents have told me this since I was a kid – that I’m difficult to deal with because I don’t clean the house enough (even though I always did the majority of the housekeeping since I was around 11 or 12 years old). I don’t want to be there anymore because I’m too afraid of leaving a crumb on the floor or a dirty cup in the living room. So now they’ll be upset that we don’t drop by anymore, and they’ll be doubly hurt that I’m not going over there with Ninja. Well, what do you expect? Babies and toddlers are messy beings, and I don’t want to have to run around in paranoia that I’ve accidentally left a Cheerio somewhere (my parents are really that obsessive about cleanliness). So if they want to see the baby, they’ll have to come to our place, and they will just have to deal with their hurt feelings over this.

I also feel that I, as a new mother, won’t be able to depend on them if I suddenly need help. If I get postpartum depression – for which I know I’m at risk – I will have to turn to my friends and my inlaws, first, because I know they’ll drop whatever they’re doing to aid me, and I really don’t know if my own family would find the time. I’d like to think that they would, but I’m not sure.

I’m pissed off that they’ve put me in this position. I wanted to spend lots of time at their place with my husband and their grandchild. That was the main reason, in fact, why DH and I quit our jobs and moved back home. I even agreed to live in this hick town in a house without a garden because I thought I’d be at my parents’ place regularly so that Ninja could run around, play with animals, grow food, tinker with vehicles, enjoy the night sky, go dirt-biking, shoot gophers, get to know his grandparents, etc. But that is not going to work if the three of us are uncomfortable at their place.

I don’t know why they had to do this. If I’d known this would happen, I would not have moved back here, and I certainly wouldn’t have purchased this house. DH and I had planned to go abroad, actually, to a country that is desperately short of people in our particular fields, and have the baby with us, but I convinced DH otherwise because I thought that my family would want to be involved in my pregnancy and in my baby’s life. Boy was I wrong.

oct 15

2 a.m. Can’t sleep. Don’t have TV or internet hooked up yet – hence the reason for my chronically delayed posts – and I read tons at my job, so I have nothing to do. I refuse to do schoolwork at 2 in the morning, not when I’ve already put in a ten- or eleven-hour day. Can’t do errands, obviously. Have five thousand little must-dos, but can’t do them without using internet or phoning people or driving around. So here I am.

I can’t even blame the baby for the insomnia – my hips don’t hurt anymore and he doesn’t kick hard enough to bother me (yet). It’s just part of my stupid sleep disorder – my mind is racing like crazy and I can’t shut it off, no matter what.

Yes, I know I have to ‘get used to’ the sleepless nights, as my mommy acquaintances and friends and family like to say in a most annoyingly condescending way. But they don’t have to leave the house for work the next morning and be a pseudo-parent to 70 kids, plus answer to all their parents. They also do not get the fact that I have a sleep disorder and so restless nights have been part of my life since I was a child. I understand that caring for an infant is a new game on top of sleeplessness, but it’s not as though I’m rolling in the zzzzzz here to begin with.

Yawwwwwn. Sorry for the boring post.

_______________________

Two hours of sleep and one long workday later…

Oy, I’m tired, and I can’t even blame it on Junior!

Anyway, today we got a carseat. Our niece – yes, our niece – is done having kids, and the seat expires in April but is in great shape and has never been in an accident, so she gave it to us. Right on. I’ll wait another month or so and then I’ll get it installed.

DH’s mom is starting to get excited about another grandchild (if you recall, she didn’t want to get her hopes up because of all the infertility/miscarriages/stillbirths the family has had). She told DH yesterday: “I bought something today for my baby! But I’m not showing it to you.” lol

Still waiting for my ultrasound and for the dates of the prenatal classes. I hope the class starts soon, otherwise I don’t know if DH can attend because he’s going on an extended business trip.

Ok, I should try to get some shuteye tonight.

baby on the installment plan

Less than two more weeks until I hit the third trimester. After my next midwife visit in 17 days, I’m up to bi-weekly appointments until week 36.

I realized, as well, that we’re down to double digits: less than 99 days until the EDD!

I sure hope I make it until 37 weeks, at least. First, for the baby’s health, of course. Second, though, I’d need to get that far to collect a year’s worth of unemployment insurance. I’m not counting on the money – I knew that starting IVF #2 ASAP meant that if it were successful, I’d be cutting it really close to make the minimum number of hours at work – but man, if I do qualify, I’ll be thrilled. EI is nothing close to my current salary, but it’s still a good chunk of change, and it’s a lot more than women in other places get. For me, it means that I’ll be able to keep up with the monthly payments for our ART treatments. Yes, it’s Baby on the Installment Plan!

oct 13

Stayed home from work today. DH is working on the house, and all the moldy materials that were being thrown around made me sick, so I was up all night with a migraine. (And remembering the miscarriage, but I’m pushing that out of my mind.) I hate staying home from work, but I think I could probably use a day off my feet, anyway. DH threw out the offensive materials ASAP, so now I’m feeling better.

I started doing baby laundry yesterday. Some of the tiny little things – pyjama bottoms, socks, and a little sweater – are draped around my bedroom right now, air drying, and I feel peculiar when I look at them. As in: They belong to me? I’m going to need them to dress a tiny little human being who looks like me and my man? Really?

I realize that it’s too early to do laundry for a January baby, but I want to wash the brand-new things – e.g., the nursing cover, washcloths, sleepers that people have given us, etc. – three times before I use them. From what I’ve read, most textiles in the western world are pretreated with flame retardants, and I want to wash off as much of that as possible, as well as pesticides and other ugly residue. I wish there were more organic options, especially in my hick town. Anyway, between now and late December, I’ll get everything into the washing machine at least three times.

The romance of cleaning baby clothes will wear off within another two loads, I tell ya. I hate laundry, and I know we’ve got tons of it heading our way this winter, especially since we’re cloth-diapering. But for now, depositing baby clothes into the washing machine is a pleasure – and a healing, in a way – I never thought I’d get.

first anniversary

It's been a year since my miscarriage from the first IVF. I didn't even think of it until I saw the ticker.

oct 12

I skipped Thanksgiving today at my parents’ place. I didn’t think they’d hold the gathering on the holiday Monday, since they usually want it Sunday so they can work on the yard the next day. Yes, they are really that obsessed with their stupid yard. So crap, DH and I came back a day too early from our babymoon. Mom and Dad had phoned/texted to find out where we were. I texted back: “Busy doing home renos, sry.”

This is such a dumb fight; I’m embarrassed to be a part of it.

It is true that we have to do the renos, though. DH will be away next month and probably December, too, and before he leaves, we have to get the house and backyard winterized, plus get rid of the mold we found under the drywall (it’s all over the place: insulation, support beams, etc.). I’m allergic to mold, so it does have to be done ASAP. January will not be a good time for that.

Anyway, the babymoon was fun, though no boinking was involved, sadly. DH is afraid of hurting me and the baby. It sucks. We’ve only had sex once, really, since the BFP, and that was early in the first tri. Our RE put the kibosh (sp?) on any more vaginal probing (ha ha, the irony!) in the first 12 weeks – argh for me, since my hormones were jacked up as though I were 15 years old – and then I wasn’t in the mood for most of second tri, plus we were too busy moving to our new house. So now I’m back in the mood, but DH is too scared.

We had a good time, though. We lounged in the hot tub – though I kept my core out of the water – walked, shopped, watched TV (which we haven’t done since June), cuddled, ate at some of our favourite restaurants, chatted with new people, drove around, etc. I read aloud a big chunk of Sherman Alexie’s The Absolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian: what an amazing book. Reminded me of Angela’s Ashes, in that it made me laugh and cry and feel horrified, all at the same time. I highly recommend it.

And on the way home, The Contours came on the radio with ‘Do You Love Me’ (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=x43vK0k6A2I&feature=related). DH and I like all kinds of music, including Motown, so we cranked the volume. And the baby started dancing. Really. He was throwing his elbows around in a way I hadn’t felt before – just bopping away – and as soon as the song was over, he was done. DH was thrilled at this turn of events because he is devoted to the ‘50s and the ‘60s, and so he decided that this must be a baby after his own heart. :) I loved it. We grew up in a time and place where moving one’s body in time to music was taboo, and so I hope fervently that my child is never dissuaded from dancing.

_____________________________

This afternoon, DH was busy barking into my belly; every time he did it, the baby responded with a jab. This was cause for great hilariosity on DH’s part.

I said to DH, “Quit that; he’s scared of you! Or else you’re turning him into a fighter!”

“Mm-hm,” said my smug DH.

Later that day, though, the meanie father-to-be gave the baby a Thanksgiving ‘hug’: he cradled my burgeoning belly in his hands and squeezed gently and said, “Hi, Baby.”

Beneath his gruff and goofy exterior, he has the softest heart in the world.


______________________________

Just before midnight

It’s extraordinarily painful to think of that miscarriage, one year ago today. It started on the 11th, but really I still had hope until the 12th. I wouldn’t say that I forgot, at least not in the conventional sense. I’ve had so much on my mind during the summer and fall – a viable pregnancy, new job, moving, new house, cleaning and renovations, family problems, new business – and 99% of it good, that I allowed myself not to think about it, I guess. Earlier today, though, I did remember that day, even though I didn’t recall that it was the anniversary. I remembered for a fleeting moment how much my heart and mind and body hurt. The worst thing that has ever happened to me. I don’t remember what triggered that memory, except that it was prompted by looking at myself in the bathroom mirror.

Now, thinking of that day as an anniversary of sorts, the first image that came to mind was the actual scene in the bathroom. Worse than any horror movie, and I was only 4 weeks and 4 days pregnant. Me screaming in the bathroom, and DH slumped over beside me, leaning against my legs.

Strange to think, if that hadn’t happened, where I’d be today. The feelings surrounding this are so complex; I don’t know how to talk about it further.

un-clandestine baby buying

This baby thing appears more and more real to me. Perhaps it is not just an illusion? Maybe? I’m still reticent about it all, but am formulating some plans.

Namely: bringing tangible infant supplies into my home.

Yesterday, for the first time, I didn’t panic when I entered a baby store. I went to Once Upon a Child (a store that sells secondhand baby stuff) and bought the following items on the cheap: 2 sleepers, a heavier blanket for use in the carseat, a swaddling blanket (with velcro tabs to keep the babe secure), an unused Boppy, and a hardcover picture book by Jon Scieszka (of Stinky Cheese Man fame).

Oh, and two little Gymboree caps: one pink one and one blue one. Everything I’ve bought so far has been gender neutral, and so I thought it wouldn’t be too wasteful to buy 2 caps of ‘gender-specific’ (*rolls eyes*) colours, since they were only $1.50 each. I’ll give away whatever I don’t use to the local pregnancy crisis centre. I do think that Ninja is a boy – hence my continual reference to the baby as ‘him’ – but of course we don’t know for sure. I wish I knew the sex, though: I would’ve probably bought his/her first year’s wardrobe at that place! They had great used clothes for really reasonable prices. But baby clothes are so very gender-specific in colour and design, unfortunately – even the neutral items look like they’re really for boys – so I left it for another time. DH does not want to know the sex, and I decided to honour that request, even though I don’t understand it.

I did buy something for myself, too, even though it was a necessity in our climate, anyway: a beautiful wool Gap maternity sweater (eight bucks!). Dh thought it was pretty, too, and he doesn’t normally comment on my attire. There was great stuff at that place: Vera Wang, Gap, Calvin Klein. I wish I’d known that I could have bought most of my work wear at baby item consignment stores. Would’ve saved me a few hundred bucks.

At a department store, I also purchased a secure nursing cover, since breastfeeding is really still just coming back into vogue in our area, and bf’ing moms face some scrutiny. I plan to bf publicly – much to DH’s worry – but my compromise is to cover up. I’m worried that a blanket will just slide off and that I wouldn’t notice – I’m notorious for not being able to multi-task – and so I decided that it was in my best interest to procure an official cover with a fastener. It’s cute: brown with turquoise swirls.

Bought another nursing bra, since I realized that one won’t be enough. Was wondering how sizing worked, so I decided that I’d go a size up. I think that will be fine, since even though the bras do fit right now, they have considerable room for ‘expansion.’ But maaaaan, they are hideous contraptions! They look like military gear, and they come in three colours: black, white, and beige. Calvin Klein should design a purple nursing bra.

Also got a stack of 20 cotton washcloths, since I want to use those instead of disposable wipes. I need to find a recipe for wipe solution.

And what else? I bought a diaper bag. This was my big splurge, since I’m not buying most ‘big ticket’ baby items that other western moms get. I had no desire to cart around a pink or blue bag – never mind a Disney-embroidered monstrosity – and I’ve never, for some bizarre reason, owned a real grown-up purse, and so I decided that my one big splash-out would be a beautiful purse that will double as Ninja’s carry-all. My dear friend S helped me pick out a purse a few weekends ago – a pretty Nygard bag that goes with everything I wear – and I love it, but realized that it wouldn’t be big enough. And so on the weekend I found a beautiful bag: aqua leather exterior, vinyl interior for easy clean-up, roomy, and lots of pockets. It was 40% off, plus I had a 15% off coupon, so hurray!

I showed my haul to DH after we got home from our trip, and he smiled. He doesn’t care about the actual things; he just commented: “You’re finally having some fun with this, eh?” And I nodded. Hope I’m not raining jinxes on my head.

Next purchase: diapers. I learned that a city to which I must fly later this month features a cloth diaper factory that sells seconds (e.g., diapers for which the wrong colour thread was used, or a snap is missing, etc.) – but you have to go there in person to buy them– and so I will head there to pick up our stash. (Yeah, I’m cheap, in case you couldn’t tell by now.) I wish I could just sew them myself, but I’m not astute enough on the sewing machine to make fitted diapers.

on (*gag*) 'babymoon'

Will moderate comments on the last post later - just because you guys wrote some stuff to which I'd like to respond. If I have time (hardy har). Work is so busy! I even missed what was to have been my first La Leche League meeting because it flew out of my head: I'm so all-consumed with my students when I'm at school.

DH and I are on our 'babymoon.' I just heard about this concept a year ago: the idea of taking one last trip before baby arrives. The name sounds lame to me - maybe because we never even got a honeymoon in the first place (we were broke) - but we thought it would be nice to drive to the U.S. and hang out over our Thanksgiving weekend. So that's what we're doing, and that's why I have internet at the moment. :) We did do some shopping today, but all I got was a maternity bra. It is the picture of ugliness, but seems ... um ... serviceable. Right now I'm nagging DH to go swimming with me, but he's being lazy with his TV remote and a beer.

The real sad part? We didn't even tell my family that we were going. That's how shitty this whole situation has become. Over something as stupid as not helping the pregnant daughter/sister when she needed it. I did not want it to be like this, but they are unwavering in their determination to prove me wrong, and so I don't really want to be around them right now.

Anyway, I'm at 25 weeks and 4 days. :) Ninja is fine - his antics make me laugh. I could swear I felt him this morning wiggle his toes. Twice he has responded to noise outside the womb: once when I dropped something heavy that clattered on the floor, and the second time - on the same day, actually - he jumped when he heard DH yelling in the bathroom (DH is a noisy guy). Train 'em up while they're young, I guess. ;)

I still feel fine. Belly is definitely bigger! Little nephew asked me with deep concern: "Is your ribs cracking?" hahaha I'm just zonked by the end of the workday, which is to be expected, of course, as I'm on my feet for hours at a time. I slept horribly for a stretch there - woke up every morning at 2 due to my hips killing me, since I'm not used to sleeping on my side all night - but now it's more tolerable. And I did have one dizzy spell at work on Friday, but I had been on my feet too much, so it was definitely my fault. (All the same, though, my teaching assistant nearly fainted, since she thought I was going to have the baby right then and there. lol I had to send her out of the room for the remainder of the period - to do photocopying - because she was so rattled!) Overall, I have no complaints. I am very very very lucky, I know, and I'm grateful every day for it.

I must say that I am starting to get worried about swine flu, especially after recent reports about the numbers of American and Cuban pregnant women falling ill and dying from it. I guess that pregnant women are more vulnerable to illness because of weakened immune systems (in my case, I've had 2 colds in the last 6 weeks, and before that I hadn't been sick in ages and ages). I saw that American authorities are recommending that pregnant women get the vaccine when it comes out next month, but I don't know what Canadian authorities are saying. I'm hesitant to get this vaccine, though, considering the lack of testing it's received, yet because I work in a very social environment - with kids who sneeze all over the place and probably don't wash their hands - I'm wondering if I should do it anyway. I'm going to phone my midwife this week to ask for her thoughts.

in-law is as in-law does

My mother-in-law has that way – as only in-laws do – of creating a special moment and then squelching it. lol

DH and I went to visit with her, and she was talking about how, when she gave birth to her children, it had to be in a hospital. She was required to be on bedrest for 10 days, which was protocol at the time, and she wasn’t allowed to see her baby except for hospital-determined breastfeeding times.

Can you imagine? Ridiculous, I know, but those were the times. The details she gave were fascinating, especially to me because I’m interested in the history of motherhood.

DH asked her a question about what his dad did when he came to visit her in her room. She laughed and said, “He never saw my room! As soon as he came in, he’d say, ‘Let’s go to the nursery!’ He always wanted to see his babies, even though he wasn’t allowed to hold you.”

DH melted.

Then his mom said, “Oh, you’re going to cry when you see your little baby for the first time.” (Which would have been true IF she hadn’t just said that!)

DH: “No, I won’t.”

Mom: “Yes, you will.”

DH: “Did Dad cry?”

Mom: “No, I don’t think so. Well, I don’t know, the hospital didn’t let him be there.”

DH: “Well, now I’m for sure not crying. If Dad didn’t, then neither will I.”

And now he won’t.

I know my MIL didn’t mean anything by this, but man, a sweet moment turned to stone, just like that. Now DH will be focused on not crying – even though I know he’ll have the urge – when our baby makes his grand entrance.

diapers

I just can't comprehend how much garbage my babe would be creating by using disposables (apparently diapers are one of the worst offenders in landfills - they take up tons of room and don't decompose, plus they leak human waste, obviously, which runs contrary to World Health Organization codes).

So, cloth it is. I grew up with cloth and that's what I saw most moms use, so it doesn't seem all that daunting to me. I'm sure it will FEEL daunting when I have to change a dozen diapers every day and do laundry every other day, but I won't worry about that until it happens.

My midwife recommended Mother-ease diapers. They're Canadian made and you can choose 'one fit' dipes, so that you don't have to upgrade sizes every so often. So that is certainly cost-effective. Midwife said that the moms she works with have really liked them. She did point out that the diaper will be huge on a newborn, but I think that's probably ok, since it'll be January (hence freakishly cold here), and the extra fabric will only help.

So I've bookmarked the web page and will show DH tonight to see if I get 'approval' from him. The cost of 24 diapers, liners, and covers is around $350 (Canadian dollars), so in the long run, we'll save some cash. Plus DH's mom is making a stash of old-fashioned dipes for us, so we'll have those as backup.

We shall see.

midwife appointment

Saw my midwife today. She was very comforting and - without her saying that obnoxious line "just relax" - got me to relax. Now that is talent, especially where I am concerned. lol

I gave her the family status, as it consumes my thoughts when I'm not at work.

(If bored by my family unit complaints - which wouldn't offend me at all, since I'm certainly sick of hearing myself think about it - please skip ahead to the second part of this post.)

In a nutshell, I have learned that my family is not concerned with my feelings. They are 'too busy' with five million things - the most important of which is mowing the lawn (I'm not exaggerating) - and doing what their spouses want, which trumps everyone else. (What I have learned from this? That if baby is crying and DH wants a beer, I am to 'feed' him before I am allowed to feed our baby. Because DH is My Husband and therefore his wants and needs trump everything else.) According to my familial unit, the nuclear family reigns supreme, even though that is a really recent development in our culture (and is even more recent for my SIL, considering that she hails from an even stronger 'extended family' culture). Such a recent development is this - considering that I grew up in a complicated network of family relations - that I didn't know that it had become the law.

And my parents and my brother and my SIL only have time for us on Sundays; but unfortunately, DH and I are usually gone on Sundays because that's the only day that all our friends (and many of his family members) are legitimately available to spend time with us.

DH is upset about this, too. So when my mom calls and kinda wants him to be the middleman, he says that he can't - even though he wants to - because he "has to support" his spouse, since that is "her rule." Haha. Sad.

Between me and my parents, more specifically, the problem always comes down to this: I don't clean up enough at their house. (My mom SAID this to me.) I don't mow the lawn enough, I don't help in the garden enough, etc. Despite the fact that I spent many hours this summer doing those very things. So whatever. I can't make them happy. I can't go to their house because I can't be comfortable there: I'm too afraid to spilling a peanut on the floor and 'messing up' the linoleum (again, this is not an exaggeration). I'm even nervous to take my kid there because babies are messy, and what am I going to do about that?

Either I am overrreacting, which is entirely possible, or my family is not what I thought it was.

I have begged my DH and my friends to tell me if I'm overreacting. Their response: if my family understood why I was sad about them, then I'd certainly be overdoing my emotional response. They say, though, that my family clearly does not get it, and so I'm not remiss in my feelings about this situation.

Midwife suggests counselling - she was concerned that this problem was consuming my thoughts and affecting the baby.

Please feel free not to comment on the above section of this post. I'm sure everyone's sick of hearing me whine about this - I myself am DEFINITELY tired of thinking about it - and besides, there's much better news to follow. (I must say a huge THANK YOU to you all, though, for your very supportive comments to me - they were reassuring.)

So here is a dividing line:

__________________________

I had been a touch worried about Ninja, since I felt that the movements were a bit fainter and more sporadic. Also, I have gained only 8 or 9 pounds - am not eating as much as I think I should - and was anxious that I was starving the baby. The midwife checked him, though, and laughed: she said that his heartbeat was perfect and that his growth was exactly on target. I'm not supposed to worry about weight gain: just eat when I'm hungry. Relief!

Next appointment is a month from now, and after that, I'll be in biweekly until I hit 36 weeks.

No ultrasound date yet. URghhhhhh. I insisted on getting shipped to a different hospital to have it done, since DH wants to be there for the ENTIRE thing, and so she had worked on that, but hasn't gotten an answer yet.

She also told me that worrying about buying baby stuff is pointless. She told me what I need to get: blankets, sleepers ('onesies' for you American folks), a CSA-approved carseat, and diapers. Everything else - if we need it - will work itself out, and nurseries are a waste of time and money. Ok, I thought, I can do that! (And so I'm not a terrible mother for not doing up a nursery - yay!)

I still feel great. Sleep is an issue - I'm not used to sleeping on my side, still, so I wake up all the time with my hips killing me - but that's a very lame 'complaint' in my books. I have a sleep disorder, anyway, so if my hips weren't waking me up, I'm sure my body would find some other way during my zzzzzz to malfunction. Though I must say that pregnancy seems to have elminated one of my sleep disorders - my body no longer jerks around every time I try to conk out - which is wonderful!

Job is going great. I'm exhausted by the end of the day, but enjoying my classes. Got bumped up to 100% - did I mention that? - and so hurray for extra pay!

IF Optimist asked for a pram update: nothing, so far! DH's bff is taking care of it - he's sent the pram to a premiere hot rod painter - and so the result will be a surprise for us, as well! I'll be sure to post a photo of it, though!

24 weeks

Hit viability today! :)

I told DH, and he feigned nonchalance, but as soon as I left for work apparently he phoned his mom to tell her the news.

Cute, huh?