End of Days

I remember the first trimester. Feeling quite hungover, extremely tired, and pretty emotional. I remember it fondly. Wait. What? Yeah, you heard right because compared to the third trimester, the first one is a friggin' picnic.

LOL

The past few weeks have sucked. I've been home, which I am ever so thankful for (I had to leave work early due to some gnarly contractions and the fact that I wasn't getting enough rest and could barely function with my increasing loss of sanity), and while that definitely helps, it still sucks. I never expected any of this to be easy - c'mon, I'm not delusional - but Holy Hell, I'm ready to have this kid and feel like a normal human being again. 

Last week I could have sworn that Sully was on his way. 3-4 hours of nonstop cramping and time-able contractions, and I was thrilled. Yeah, I'm at that point where I welcome the pain with open arms. Seriously. Bring. It. On. However, as soon as I was getting ready to call my doc at 3 AM, everything started subsiding and my hopes fizzled into the early morning that I've come to know so well.

The past few days have been interesting. Really bad cramping since Saturday, along with what I can only assume are contractions, in addition to being a complete insomniatic psycho. My legs have been giving out on me, my head is constantly aching, and nausea has been paying me a visit. I've been up and wide awake as early as 1:30 AM… completely restless and unable to sit still.

Last night was another time that I thought "this is it." My lower back was radiating pain all through my hips, legs, and eventually into my tummy. It was brutal. I could barely walk, but I wasn't having that tightening like I would with a contraction. At least not consistently. SO confusing. 

They always say "you'll just know" which annoys the living hell out of me because, really, that's so unhelpful. I don't want to be told that "I'll know," I want you to freakin' tell me what it feels like so I'm not driving myself crazy by worrying about every little twinge or pain, which are coming all too commonly these days. Then I get the "everyone's different" routine… You may feel a lot of pain. You may not. You should know when you're having contractions. Some women don't (a little confusing when you are previously told that "you'll just know"). This may be nothing. Or it could be something HUGE. Jeeeeeeezum. 

#thoroughlyannoyedwithallthiswishywashyinconsistentinformation

This morning, my back pain has leveled out to a dull ache, but I totally feel like I'm coming down with something. I don't want to move. Sitting here to type is proving to expel a lot of effort, but I really, really, really, really needed to vent. My pregnancy has been fairly easy compared to what a lot of women go through. I know I'm lucky. I'm lucky to have had no serious complications, and I'm lucky to be able to have a baby when so many have trouble. But this doesn't mean I'm not allowed to get frustrated. I'm not ungrateful. But still…. Being this constantly uncomfortable and worrying if "this is it" the past few weeks has been completely draining.

I'm super emotional. Grumpy. Moody. Overwhelmed. A lot of things do it to me these days. Just going to pee and not being able to get off the toilet without grabbing on to something makes me emotional. I guess I'm just ready to feel like myself. 

I was thinking last night of all the things I can't wait to be able to do again. A lot of them were things I took for granted when it was just me in this body. I can't wait to:

1). Be able to put my shoes on without feeling like I'm suffocating or just ran a marathon.

2). Sneeze, laugh, or cough without pissing myself.

3). To get off the couch or out of bed without having to give myself a pep talk first. "I think I can!"

4). Paint my toes.

5). Walk without looking like I'm trying to impersonate a penguin.

6). Fill up my pellet stove (40 lb bags are a "no no").

7). Run.

8). Pick things up off the floor.

9). Sleep on my stomach or my back.

10). Have a friggin' drink - I need one.

I love Sully to pieces, and when it gets really overwhelming, I think about his little smiling face that was up on the ultrasound screen last week. He totally smiled. I know it's all worth it. This is something I've known since this all began. I knew it wouldn't be all glowing butterflies and rainbow unicorns, but it can get to be a bit much, ya know?

I've heard "it's all worth it" a million times, but I really don't need reminding. I know people just want to make you feel better by trying to help you see the light at the end of the tunnel, but sometimes you just want to bitch about things for a few minutes, get it out of your system, take a deep breath, and move on. That's really all this post was about. I just needed to throw a little tantrum and now I feel much better - mentally, anyway. Thanks!

Cheers!

Changes

36 weeks today! At this point, if I went in to labor, Sully would be considered full term anyway, so there's nothing they would do to stop it. I made it! Now the waiting game begins. Honestly, Sully could come absolutely anytime he wants. No rush. But seriously. Anytime.

Sleep and I have been battling it out lately. My poor hips have been protesting the side-sleeping (which is all I can do), and let's just say they are pretty loud about it. Pains shooting down your leg have the tendency to keep you up at night. Not to mention, I just wake up for no reason at all... Today is the first day in a long time that I slept past five AM. It's glorious.

Our baby shower was last weekend. It was amazing. We had family up and friends coming in from Texas - it was incredible. Not to mention it was a baby shower for the history books. Ever been to a Wimbish/Mahaffey party? You're missing out. Plus, it was at our wonderful friends' house, and they certainly know how to have a good time. Everyone kept asking, "This is a baby shower?".. Yes, people.. It was a Wimbish/Mahaffey baby shower, and that's how we roll.

Sully's room still isn't organized. We had the epic baby shower last weekend, Sully got totally spoiled, and I've been meaning to get in there and get everything ready, but time and energy are not on my side. Sully's been acting up. I've been having what my doc says are regular contractions on top of Braxton Hicks on top of just feeling like utter crap. I've been trying to suck it up and just battle through my normal day with a smile on my face while trying to ignore these things, but it's not easy. Just yesterday, I had a craft fair I was participating in with a friend, and it was awesome to showcase all of our hard work. But by the time I got home at 2:30, I felt like I was going to die. Went to bed and stayed there for three hours. Got up only to move my ass to the couch. Totally over-did it, but the limitations I have right now are driving me nuts!

The doctor has me at home right now, "laying low." I'm not working (I may or may not go back, depending on what doc says), and I'm really just trying to rest as much as possible. My house is dirty and disorganized, which drives me bat sh*t crazy, but I'm trying to listen to what my body is telling me. Thank God for Netflix, crocheting, and my books. I'm even starting to write again, so maybe the inactivity is a blessing in disguise.

I just can't wait for the little bugger to get here! Not only because I'm ready to evict his royal cuteness and not be pregnant anymore, but I'm ready to finally meet him. People ask me if I'm nervous, and I can honestly say that I'm not. Not about the labor or about figuring out what the hell we are doing... I figure it'll come to us. It won't be easy, I'm under no delusions, but I don't think it's anything to freak out about. I'm focusing on all the fun we are going to have (it's not difficult to do), and that overshadows any doubts or fears.

My whole perspective on babies has changed. In the past, I'd see a picture of a baby, shrug my shoulders and go about the rest of my day. Not that I didn't appreciate that the parents were excited, I just couldn't share in that excitement. I've never been one to be totally in love with babies - it was kind of a take it or leave it. In fact, they kind of freaked me out. I even questioned myself on more than one occasion if I even wanted to have one of my own or just keep things the way they were. But now that it's here, I get excited seeing little ones. I've even started to notice what kind of strollers or carseats people use - God help me - it's a place I never thought I'd be in.


Cheers!

Becoming a Stay at Home Mom

Recently, we have made the choice that I will be staying home with Sully once he makes his debut. I went back and forth for a while, unsure if the decision was best or if we'd be put in a tight spot, but ultimately it boiled down to what was best for Sully. And if we're being honest, what was best for my sanity.

I just couldn't fathom sending my infant to daycare 40+ hours a week. I get anxious just thinking about it. For one, the idea of someone else taking care of my little guy just leaves a bad taste in my mouth. It doesn't feel right, and I refuse to let that happen if I can help it. Second, I feel like there's not enough time as it is, and adding a baby on top of a full-time job and taking care of a home... How do you give all that the attention it deserves? I felt like things were about to get spread real thin.

Not only that, but the cost of daycare is ridiculous. I might bring home a little bit, but really? Most of my paychecks would be devoured...

I know a lot of women go back to work and careers and make the whole package happen. Kudos to you. No, seriously. I have a lot of respect for those women and have no judgements at all towards the amazing things they accomplish. The thing is, I used to care about starting a career, but in the past few months as I get closer to my due date, it's become less important than Sully. It's practically a non-issue. The idea of missing out on all those little first-times and moments that we'll never get back scares me way more than the thought that putting a career or job on hold will "screw me up" resume-wise in the long run. (Whatever that means...) Doesn't mean I think that's what other moms are doing by going back to work - this is just how I feel about my particular situation. Everyone has different circumstances, different strengths, and different desires for their life. As long as you can make a choice and be happy with it, I say that's all that matters.

I've read articles that say that women who stay at home feel isolated or like they've sacrificed their lives to raise children. Or these articles give you the guilt trip, that women have fought so hard to make an equal place for themselves in the world, and women who choose to stay home are throwing all that away. (Seriously, why are people so judgmental?) I don't believe any of that for a second.

I don't believe I'm sacrificing a thing. If anything, I'm being given a gift in having a choice and am blessed to be able to stay home to take care of my little one. A lot of people don't have that luxury, so I know how lucky I am to be faced with this decision.

I get a mix of understanding and funny looks when people discover that I'll be staying home. Like in this day and age, the idea of being a stay at home mom makes me... I dunno.. lazy or something. Sorry guys. I'm not superwoman, and I'm not going to pretend that I can or even want to juggle it all. Anyone who knows me knows that I'm an ambitious person. I don't sit around twiddling my thumbs - I'm always into something, doing something. I don't believe I'm throwing anything away. I'm being faced with the most important job of my life, but I also know that I will continue to be and do more.

I'll go back to work. Hell, maybe I'll start my own business (there's already one in the works). Maybe I'll finally finish my novel. Not that I'll have a ton of time on my hands to do these things, but my point is... Deciding to be a stay at home mom doesn't define me as such, especially when it comes to stereotypes. Just like a career doesn't define any other person. Staying home with my baby doesn't make me a less ambitious person - it just means I've made a choice - a choice that, lately, doesn't seem to reflect what's become the social norm.

Cheers :)

Things I've learned so far.... The trivial and not so much...

Being pregnant is one of the most intense educational life experiences I've ever been through. I've learned a lot not only about what it takes to be happy during my own pregnancy and what I need to prepare myself for after, but I'm pretty sure I'm finding out just exactly what I'm capable of. And that's anything.

I've had no choice in learning patience (and anyone who knows me knows this is not one of my virtues). Nine months is a looooong time for me. Although it's going by so fast that my head is beginning to spin, waiting has never been my thing. I've had to learn to take things slow, and as a result, I'm enjoying the whole process rather than focusing on the result. There's no rushing a baby :).

My tolerance for discomfort has sky rocketed. I'm pretty much uncomfortable all the time, even now as I type this and sip on my one cup of coffee for the day. My back hurts, my feet are beginning to swell, and sometimes I feel like I literally can't get out of my chair. Just last night, my body was so worn out and hurt so much that I seriously crawled up the stairs and by the time I reached the top, I just laid down, at which point both my lovey dogs came and snuggled up to me. So yeah, I'm getting tired. But I'm still totally happy with it; Taylor makes me laugh about it, at which point I have to be careful not to pee myself.... Yeah. I just said that.



I've had to learn to just let things go - it's okay if the house isn't spotless or if I'd rather put my feet up than cook dinner. I'm obsessive about my house. I like it to look good, smell good, and be cozy. We work our asses off for this amazing life, and having my own home has always been important to me. SO it was very difficult for me to just let it go a little bit in exchange for the R&R I'm needing more and more of as this pregnancy progresses. But you know what? I'm definitely happier not worrying so much about it.

I've always been really hard on myself with... well... everything. If I don't do something just right, I get really upset and frustrated with myself. At work. At home. Doesn't matter. It's stupid. Which is why learning to just let things go and work at a slower pace has been a major but necessary obstacle for me to overcome in this pregnancy if I want to be happy through it all.

Also, a part of this whole letting things go mantra I've been going on about... The weight gain sucks. Not fitting into your clothes sucks. Seeing a number on the scale that you've never seen before in your life sucks. But it's a part of the whole thing, and as someone who's always been very active and pretty careful about my weight, this is insane. But you know what? I'm pretty much over that now. Last week, I had an appointment in which I was measuring small. As in about two weeks behind normal. Had to have an ultrasound a week later to make sure Sully was growing like he should, and in that week, I swear I didn't give a damn about my own body. I ate, and ate, and ate. And after all that, Taylor made me eat some more. He wouldn't leave a restaurant until I "finished my plate." LOL. My appetite is back and forth, and sometimes food just sounds... UGH... But you know what? The ultrasound showed Sully was perfect (full head of hair!!) and that I just measure small. I think that little scare was God's way of telling me to quit being so freakin' worried about how big my used-to-be-nonexistent ass is getting and just be happy that my little guy's health is right on target.

So the things I've learned can pretty much boil down to "DON'T STRESS." I've heard people say that being pregnant is a huge sacrifice, and I guess I can see their point, but at the risk of sounding like I know it all (because I absolutely don't), here's what I do to make it not feel so much that way...

1.) This one's big, so it'll be kind of long: Everything in moderation. Being pregnant seems to come with a ginormous list of things you can't eat or do, and it gets a little too extreme. (Some women drive me nuts about this... I've even heard that pregnant women shouldn't eat peanut butter or chocolate. Are you kidding me?) I've done a lot of research, talked to my doctor, and I've come to the conclusion that harm only comes in form of excess ~ which is true when it comes to anything in life. I enjoy my one cup of coffee. I have seafood every now and then. And, hell, I'll even have a teeny glass of wine or half a beer every once in a great while. If you do a little research, you'll find that things are changing from the whole long list of "nevers" that come with pregnancy. It doesn't have to be so freaking strict. Women stress so much about this kind of stuff, and I think that that's worse for the baby than anything.

You don't have to freak out, just be aware. There are things I don't do, such as eat deli meat or pound coffee like I used to. So in that case, I get a hot sandwich or go with decaf if I really need an afternoon pick me up. When moderation sucks, I replace it with something just as good. So all in all, I don't really feel like I've sacrificed much of anything that I would have normally done when I wasn't pregnant.

2.) Do things that make you feel pretty. Kinda sounds cheesy, but when you feel fat, swollen, and achey all the time, the little things can really make a difference. Bubble baths are amazing things - I'm talking candles, music, a book... whatever. Just do it. Coconut oil is your friend (straight up from the baking isle in your grocery store). I rub it on my belly every day, and haven't spotted one stretch mark so far. Accessories are essential. Scarves and jewelry - I'm telling you. Candles. I always have one lit because they just make me feel cozy.

3.) Work on projects for the nursery. DIY. Works for me. Right now, I'm making Sully a blankie and I've got a couple of pieces of nursery wall art I'm working on. Doing these things makes me forget any discomfort, and instead I just feel happy, proud, and excited.

4.) Ask for help. Typically, when I cook, I clean up afterward. Lately though, I've simply asked my husband if he'll help me, and he's always happy to. Before, I just did everything and never asked for a hand. It's amazing what a simple request will do to take those little burdens off your shoulders.


I think that's all I have for now... Sully is in great health, as am I. Hopefully soon I'll have photos of the nursery!


Cheers!

Updates and What Not

I'm a little over six months (or 27 weeks 5 days, if you want to get right down to it) and if things weren't beginning to change enough before, they sure are now. The third trimester is kicking in, and I can definitely feel it looming over me like this beautiful yet oppressive and tangible thing. Everyone has told me it's the hardest to get through, but despite that, I'm trying to go into it with an optimistic mind.

Fatigue has kicked in, but it's really nothing to compare to the first trimester when I was tired and felt "hungover" all the time (without having any of the fun usually associated). So this is a cinch, so far. My back kills me, my knees creak, and I'm having trouble sleeping, but overall I'm still in a pretty good mood. I just think about Sully and how all this is for him, and I get more excited than anything else.

Braxton Hicks contractions started kicking in around, oh, 23-24 weeks-ish? I wasn't sure what the hell was going on until my doc mentioned it at my 24 week appointment. I was told that women could start as early as their first trimester. Fun stuff. They don't hurt per say, but holy hell do they get your attention. They take your breathe away and make it difficult to focus on anything else, which is annoying when I'm at work, but what are you gunna do? It's my body's way of telling me that we're getting closer, and I can't complain about that.

I've become well acquainted with the concept of "snissing." You know.. you sneeze and then piss yourself. I wouldn't recommend it. I thought it was bad when my second trimester rolled around, but now that I'm getting into my third, I've found that being super aware of my bladder is a good idea, even when I don't have to sneeze. Especially when Sully decides to drop kick it like a soccer ball, nearly knocking me out of my chair... 

On to the fun! We started to get the nursery ready, but the backboard of the crib was cracked. No worries. The company is sending us a new piece asap, and it's going to be beautiful! Sully's room is going to be pretty low key. Not going to be a ton of frills or bright colors. He's a boy. I'm his momma. Frills are not our thing. Blues, grays, and whites. Arrows and outdoors and mischief and imagination. No real theme, just something cozy that he can grow in to. 

I've been spending a lot of time wondering what Sully is going to be like when he makes his appearance. Taylor says he'll be all Mahaffey, but I think he underestimates the power of the Wimbish gene. ;). Will he have light or dark colored hair? My little brother had a full head of dark brown hair, so who knows? Will he like sports or will he be more of a fisherman? Maybe he'll be a writer. I'm determined that he'll be a reader. It's interesting to think about what he'll look like, what his passions will be, and ultimately, who he'll be.

We'll find out soon!!


Cheers!

Getting there!!

24 weeks. Holy moly. My third trimester is looming on the horizon, and I can definitely feel the weight of it bearing down on me. So much to dooooo! And it feels like... or actually we are... running out of time!

Little Sully has a huge container of stuff and his own corner in my living room. (I'm sure this won't change.) We are still working on getting his room cleaned out, so I haven't had a chance to organize everything yet. Baby clothes, toys, books, and a car seat. You shoulda seen me trying to figure out that last one. There are so many buttons and safety precautions, I actually did what you're supposed to do in these situations: I read the guidebook. Go figure. Reading the directions actually does make things easier.

Accumulating all the necessary essentials that are required to keep your baby safe and happy is really... crazy. If feeling Sully kicking didn't make it real enough, seeing all this baby stuff in my house is really taking the whole "reality is slapping you in the face" to the next level. Sully will be here in less than four months, and while that can sound like a long time, remember that we found out about him almost six months ago... YEAH. Really. Having those months go by as fast as they did makes me feel like four will be the blink of an eye.

So how am I feeling? That's a question I get a lot. For the most part, I'm feeling really tired. I've been having more off days than days when I feel like a normal human being, and I think that has a lot to do with my second trimester coming to an end and the fact that Sully is getting huge. Yesterday I spent a couple of hours cleaning the house and doing laundry, and by 11 AM, I was spent. I have a really bad habit of not listening to my body when it tells me to lay the frig down, but this time I had to. Laid down to do a bit of reading and ended up falling asleep for an hour.

Needless to say, this being tired all the time (again) is really putting me in a predicament. I feel like I can't do anything without paying for it somehow. Last weekend was pretty full. A friend's baby shower. Canoeing on the lake. 2 mile walk. More canoeing on the lake. Dinner with friends. Then work on Monday. By Tuesday and Wednesday, I felt like I was going to keel over and die while having a major hormone-induced bitch-fit. Turns out, I was just exhausted and needed to go home and get some R&R. Literally just sit on my ever-growing ass and do nothing.

It's frustrating, because I want to go walking every day. I want to go out and do things with friends. But at the same time, I need to relax as much as possible or else I'll end up sick and miserable. Seems like it's hard for others to understand, but it is what it is right now, and I don't like it anymore than they do.

What makes it all worth it is feeling Sully get stronger every day. He's begun to wake me up at night, and I find it really difficult to get frustrated with his insomniatic antics. It's something I better get used to, and I'm pleasantly surprised to find that it doesn't bother me being woken up by a squirmy little munchkin. We'll see if that changes when the kicking turns into screaming... ;)

Speaking of kicking, Taylor finally saw Sully move. He had his hand on my belly while Sully was uber active, but for some reason, he can't feel it to save his life. Over-think much? I actually saw the man's hand move when Sully kicked him, but nope, he didn't feel a thing. *Sigh* Good thing the kicks have gotten to the point where I can see them pushing on my belly. (There's that "alien" thought again....) So I had Taylor watch the belly instead. And BAM, the moment finally happened. There was no way Taylor could mistake those huge jumps in my belly for hunger pangs.

I have my next appointment on August 1st, and I'm excited to see how much Sully has grown in the last month. He's definitely strong, healthy, and growing fast. My belly feels enormous, so much so that I had to roll off the couch the other day to get up to pee (again), much to the amusement of my husband.

Do you see how walking two miles could be difficult with this added weight constantly throwing me off balance? I see all these "fit and pregnant" women on Pinterest or other blogs, and I have to fight the urge to say screw. you. I've always been one to workout and jog as part of my lifestyle, but my knees, ankles, and energy levels are finding it hard to keep up. It's gotten to the point where going up and down my stairs half a dozen times while cleaning is calling my exercise routine for the day good. Now if only I could turn my craving for chocolate ice cream into a craving for something like... Oh, who am I kidding?

There are a lot of things you have to just let go when you're pregnant. The house isn't going to be as clean as you like. You're not going to be as active as you want to be. The scale is inevitably going to go up. And you're clothes aren't going to fit anymore. It is what it is, and it's really taught me a lesson in just letting things be and not focusing on the things I can't do. I've been trying to put the energy I do have into things I can do. Or stepping back and remembering the things I am doing... Like creating a whole other life.

I think Taylor was worried about having to live with a pregnant wife due to the horror stories that every man seems to like to tell (as if they are victims and have the most difficult job in the whole deal), but I think I've handled it pretty well, and it helps to have such an understanding guy on my side. When I'm feeling extra irritable, I just tell him, "hey, I'm feeling really *itchy tonight," and instead of thinking it's something he's done or that I need to get over it, he always asks, "what can we do to make you feel better?" Or if I'm in one of those moods where I just want to cry, he gives me a hug and tells me to just let it out because I'll feel better for it. I don't make him a target of my hormones. I just give him a heads up that they are getting out of control and it's something he just seems to know how to help me with. We work together.

So instead of him thinking I've become possessed or me thinking he's an insensitive jerk (stereotypes, I know), we can focus on the fun stuff. Like belly kicks and car seat fiascos and putting the crib together.

Hopefully, soon I'll have some photos of the nursery!


Cheers!

The Rollercoaster

I don't have to tell you that being pregnant is a rollercoaster ride of emotions. Everyone knows it and it's always the joke that a pregnant woman will usually break down and cry doing something as simple as watching a freaking toilet paper commercial. I wouldn't say it's been that extreme for me, but I've definitely experienced a lot of ups, downs, backs, forths, and in betweens.

What I find most surprising, though, is how I feel now compared to how I felt barely a couple of months ago. I was asked very recently by a young girl if I liked being pregnant. Now, I'd definitely say yes. Before, all I wanted was for someone to knock me out and wake me when it was over. Pregnancy is a very sudden, absolutely drastic change, and it can be tough to deal not only with that, but with the prospect that this isn't even the scariest part.

However, now I'm feeling different. I got over the initial shock and frustration that my body is no longer my own. I've not only accepted the fear of what I don't know, but I've shifted my focus from my anxiety to looking forward to learning. I think the transition started when I started to feel Sully doing Kung Fu moves in my belly. 

I've got one active kid on my hands here, and if he's this crazy now, I'm definitely in trouble. It's gotten to the point that not only can I feel him move, I can see it. Yup. I'm not the only one who's seen it, and I think it freaked the guy out a bit if the look on his face was any indication. Sully's getting stronger everyday, and I'm glad for it. 

I've discovered that he loves chocolate chip cookies. I swear, he does! He usually gets kicking after I eat, but with chocolate chip cookies, he goes berserk. I can only imagine him in there going...

You might be thinking that it's the sugar, which would make sense, but I've eaten other sweets (what? don't judge...) without such a significant reaction out of him. The only conclusion I can come to is that it's his favorite thing I've ever eaten. So when I reach for another and Taylor gives me a funny look, all I have to say is, "What? Sully likes them!"

So between feeling that movement and the fact that I can call him by his name, everything has moved from that surreal dream world to something more solid, which has got me realllllly excited!! There's always that little voice of worry in the back of my mind, but for the most part I give it dirty looks and ignore it. 

I get the question "How are you feeling?" quite often, and my honest answer would be: great. I do have those days when my hormones amplify everything I'm feeling, and that can be tough (not to mention annoying), but I've got a great guy supporting me who never fails to pull me out of that hole. I get tired pretty quickly and have to take it easy more often than I would like, but I'm trying to just take advantage of my free pass and put my feet up. 

I think that's been the hardest part. Not being able to do the things I used to. Stay up late with friends. Go for a run. Load up the canoe for a day on the lake. Go all day working around the house. But I know it's not about me anymore. It's what's best for Sully, and my body is much more in tune with his needs than my own right now, so I really try to listen. Seeing it that way, I'm finding that it's getting pretty difficult to be frustrated.

The tables are turning and rather than cursing the fact that men can't carry babies, I'm feeling blessed that this is my job. That's not to say Taylor isn't doing anything: he's been taking care of everything before the baby comes to the point where all I have to do is... well, practically nothing besides show up for my doc appointments, take care of myself, and have fun with it. It's his way. He expresses his excitement by doing. 

I'm coming up on 22 weeks, so yeah, I'm almost done with my second trimester. Holy. Crap. I've heard the third is the hardest, but I'm really doing my best not to go into it with that little tidbit hanging over my head. I'm sure I'll get my waddle on like everyone else,

and I'm sure I'll be ready for Sully to get his dance moves on in the real world, but I'm really going to try to just enjoy it, because it's going by fast. 

I think that's all for now! Until next time...

Cheers!

It's a Boy!

So we found out Friday that we are having a little boy.

Sullivan Roy Mahaffey

I so love his name, and I love even more that I can call him by it now. Taylor and I have had that name picked out for years. And we agreed upon it within a millisecond. Pretty stoked that we're usually on the same page and don't have to argue about what our son's name is going to be. It must have been meant to be, because I swear, the name already fits this little man.

It's an old cliche, but time really does fly. I feel like we just found out about a baby at all, and now we know we're going to have Sully. I thought last week would take forever to get here, but the days flew by, and before I knew it, we were driving to the doctor that Friday morning, both with butterflies in our stomach, trying to guess what it was going to be.

I got hardly any sleep the night before. First, being unable to fall asleep and second, waking up at 5 AM too excited to stay in bed. I live almost an hour away from my doctor (that's what happens when you live out in the sticks), but it didn't feel like a long drive. Before I knew it, we were in the ultrasound room and there was Sully up on the screen. 

The tech told us first thing that it was a boy, and thank goodness. I don't think I could have sat there looking at that screen for an hour, waiting. Taylor said his heart stopped. I just started laughing, in typical fashion, and I don't think I stopped the rest of the day. 

We got to watch him for almost an hour, moving around, waving and kicking his arms and legs. He's already a little ham. He was even playing with his toes, which was just insane to see. Taylor hadn't seen him since the first ultrasound I had when Sully just looked like a little shrimp. This time, we could see the four chambers of his heart, his facial structure, five fingers on each hand, even his spine and bones. It was unbelievable, and those people who refuse to do ultrasounds are totally missing out. 

Plus, it's nice to have that peace of mind that everything is normal and okay. Sully's developing just fine. I get so worried sometimes, for no good reason, because I can't see him. Some people say that not knowing is part of the fun. I think that's crap. I want to know that he's a boy, and I want to know that I have nothing to worry about. 

Taylor finally felt Sully move. He's an active little bugger and is kicking me even as I type this. Taylor still says that he needs to feel a stronger kick to be convinced, but I'm pretty sure he's thinking too much into it. Either that or it's just such a surreal idea that he can't wrap his mind around it. As soon as I felt that little kick in my side against Taylor's hand, his eyes got huge. He felt it, no matter what he says.

And now the fun really begins! I've already started hauling out Sully's room, cleaning it out so we can get it ready for him. I think I've spent a total of 6-8 hours just cleaning, rearranging, and organizing all of our rooms to make plenty of space for our little guy. And I'm still not done! Or, more precisely, Taylor's not done. He's got some storage bins to move downstairs. 

I've already got his room planned out and have ideas about making his first blankie... 

    (A few things from my nursery treasury via Etsy... Great way to get ideas together!)

The yarn I've picked for his blankie.

I've been crocheting a lot, and I can't wait to make him a few warm and cozy things, especially because he'll be born in late fall. 

Umm, isn't that flat cap awesome? Totally making that....

And of course, the research is really hitting a high while we prepare for having a newborn, especially in winter. I've been wondering how it'll be with the cold, but from what I've read, it's good for babies to be out for fresh air as long as they're bundled up right and not out too, too long. I've heard of people not taking their babies outside all winter, which to me, doesn't sound like it could be too good for their little lungs or immune systems. Fresh. Air. Never. Hurt. Anyone.

The planning is fun. The research is interesting. I've registered at the hospital, which sounds like an amazing place. Apparently, visiting is like getting into Fort Knox, which makes me feel better about safety. Also, they offer a ton of options to make your stay as comfortable and relaxing as possible. Massage? Um, do you even have to ask? Private room and bathroom. Hot tub. Sleeper sofa for Taylor. Rooming-in. And a ton of other benefits that really have me looking forward to the process rather than fearing it. I definitely think I made the right choice :).

I feel like my thoughts are all over the place right now, which I guess they are. Jumping from planning, to making sure I do things right, to the whole hospital stay. Taylor thinks far ahead, as in how we're going to raise Sully, and while I think a lot about that too, I know we'll be just fine in that respect. As for me, I'm thinking more about the next four months of pregnancy, the baby's birthday, and how things will be in the first few months after Sully's born. One step at a time. The rest we'll figure out as it comes.

Cheers! 

Alien? No, it's a baby...

20 weeks today! Holy crap, has this gone by fast!! I'm hitting the halfway mark, and at this point, I feel like we're scrambling to get ready. I guess not so much scrambling as realizing, "wow, if the first half went by this fast, then the second half will be over before we know it."

My belly is starting to pop, my clothes don't fit, and I'm running to the bathroom every ten minutes. 

I've gone this far without buying maternity pants, but looks like I'm going to have to give in very soon. Bella bands are great when you can't button your pants anymore, but when you can't zip them either? I think that's a sign it's time to start shopping more in the maternity section. But what does getting bigger mean? Means you're baby is growing, healthy, and if you thought he/she had taken over your body before, think again.

I've been feeling twinges for a couple of weeks now, but for the past few days, I swear that kid is doing olympic-worthy gymnastics in there. I can actually feel the little bugger rolling around and, yes, kicking the crap out of me. It freaked me out at first, and I automatically had these images from the movie Alien when the nasty critter pushes it's way through the guy's stomach. Yeah. That's me. Instead of having a tear-jerker moment, I think of a screaming, brutal extraterrestrial. 

What can I say? After I got used to it, though, it became less weird and more amazing, making the whole thing a little less surreal and a lot more real. 

Poor Taylor. He wants so bad to feel this kid kick, and every time I feel something, he puts his hand on my belly and you know what? The baby stops moving. As if he/she's playing this mischievous little game, "let's see how frustrated I can make Daddy." I'm sure it won't be the last time.

The funny thing is, I swear I can feel movements on the outside, little pushes against my hand, but that's only for the past two days or so. Taylor thinks it's because I'm feeling it on the inside, so my mind is tricking me, but I've been feeling twinges and kicks for a couple of weeks now, and this is definitely different. Of course, he won't believe me until he feels it for himself. 

Feeling this little munchkin move around is cool, but sometimes the fact that he/she can wiggle into places where nothing has wiggled before = OUCH! 

A little over a week ago, I had a hard time sitting down. Walking. Laying. Pretty much just being conscious. Apparently, little Mahaffey found a comfy spot right on my tailbone. Actually it felt less like he/she was getting comfy than he/she was having a party and tap dancing on my sciatic nerve. Now I could sugar-coat it and say that my lower back and legs hurt, but let's be honest here. This kid was literally a pain in my ass. I felt like Forrest Gump, but instead of the whole something "jumped up and bit me," I felt like something tomahawked a sledgehammer into my backside. 

More than appropriate...

One sick day of being horizontal later (yup, it hurt so bad, I couldn't go to work), and all was well. 

Another thing I find funny about this pregnancy is the fact that I have a super nose. I can smell everything. Taylor prides himself on having super senses, and I used to swear he was making up half the smells he claimed his divine schnauze could supposedly detect, but I get it now. Oh boy, do I get it. You think having well-honed senses would be cool? Ummm... when you have a gassy husband, think again. I swear he could patent that stuff and sell it to the government as a secret weapon. We'd be millionaires and world peace would prevail. 

Aliens, throbbing butt cheeks, and stink-bombs aside, this is starting to feel real! My friend at work brought in her baby the other day, and while babies usually freak me out a little and make me nervous, I was surprisingly fine. Yeah, I've always been that person. The one who stands in the background praying they won't ask me if I want to hold him/her while everyone else goes googoogaga begging for a turn. It's just the way I've always been, but seeing my friend's little guy got me pretty excited, and knowing I can be a semi-normal person when it comes to babies is pretty encouraging. Why encouraging? Because I've never been great with kids and the fact that they make me nervous made me... well... nervous when I found out I was having my own. However, pretty sure this is a whole new set of circumstances.

Now that I've hit the halfway mark, there's a lot to do. The baby's room. Baby stuff. More baby stuff. And more baby stuff. Reading. Researching. Praying. Plus, I need to register at the hospital and start thinking of a birthing plan. A what? Wow. I'm looking through my thick preadmission packet right now and... umm... 

That's a post for another week, I think. Don't want to get too overwhelmed in one sitting. 

Cheers!

Boy or Girl?

The big debate. What's it gonna be? We find out July 5th ~ a mere three weeks away ~ what path our lives are going to take, because ultimately, gender is a huge deal. Most people say it doesn't matter, and really, in regards to health and happiness, it doesn't. But I'm pretty sure having a boy is a lot different than having a girl and vice versa.

Personally, I think it's a boy. Don't hold me to it, but I just have a feeling. I've had dreams about it, which I take as a very serious sign (or it could very well just be my preggo brain playing tricks on me), and given Taylor's family history, it just seems likely that we'll have a boy. 

I'll be happy with either, but get Taylor talking about it, and the guy literally starts shaking with nervousness. I'm not exaggerating. He even took the entire day of July 5th off (even though my appointment is early in the morning). 

The idea of having a girl scares the living crap out of him. He'll see these preteens or teenagers walking around with shorts that have no right to be labeled shorts and plunging necklines, and every time since we found out we were pregnant, he shakes his head, takes a nervous breath and says, "I hope I don't have a daughter." It's because he knows he'll probably end up in jail trying to beat up any "scumbag" who looks even once at her. 

I always tell him that the baby isn't going to come out a hormonal teenager, but there's no calming him. I also tell him that if we do have a daughter, we can raise her to think independently and be confident. She won't need to dress like... well, if you know Taylor at all, you know how he finishes that sentence. 

My great friend Rachael is one of the few I know who believes that we are destined to have a girl. Her exact words are, "I think Taylor needs to raise a girl. He's so terrified of it that I think God is going to give you a daughter." This totally makes sense, and given the way things work for Taylor, there's a very good chance it's true. 

I don't believe in chance or coincidence, and I'm really on the fence about luck. There's been too many crazy things that have happened in my life for me to believe in anything other than fate. I've begun to trust in the signs that tell me what I need, even when it's scary, and in doing that, things always seem to fall into place, even if it's not exactly what I imagined for myself. As a result, even when I'm worried, there's always a little voice that says it'll all work out. And it always does. Perfectly.

Before, I would have been shocked to learn we were having a girl. But with all that's been said, the idea of surprise is waning because a daughter would make sense in the grand scheme of fate. Taylor would be facing what I've determined to be one of his biggest fears, and I would learn a great lesson in patience as I try to reign in the obsessive/controlling behavior as she gets older. 

Of course, I don't actually believe (too much, anyway) that Taylor will be the dad who cleans his gun on the front porch to scare away any unsuspecting boys. (Again, when he thinks daughter his mind immediately jumps to teenager.) I wouldn't exactly put it past him, but I know that if we did have a girl, he'd be a puddle of goo on the floor more often than not, and all the tough talk I hear now would more than likely flip its tone. 

I know it all comes from a good place, this worry and fear he has. I worry too sometimes about having a girl, because with everything you see in the news, how can you not? Having a girl instead of the boy we've always expected would change the perspective enormously, especially for Taylor. It's because he wants her to be safe, happy, and have a good head on her shoulders. But there's no doubt in my mind that with him as a father, if we had a girl, she'd be all those things. 

We'll see what happens. July 5th will be here before we know it, and I know either way, it's going to be a good day. 

Cheers!

Life is about to change. ?

Last night, Taylor surprised me by having everything together for a picnic by the time I got home. All I had to do was change out of my work clothes and he took care of the rest. He bought two chairs (ours got ruined over the winter), chips and dip, orange juice (for us who can't enjoy an adult beverage), and a nice big salad (because anything heavy lately just turns my stomach). He had it all thought out. And what's more? The day before, he had spent half his day off clearing a path to our favorite spot to the lake so we could drive our new car through the hordes of mosquitos so I wouldn't get eaten alive. (I can't use mosquito spray either.)

No, he doesn't have a brother. 

After we got set up right by the water and were enjoying the peace and quiet and the occasional jumping of a fish, we started talking about the things we'd want to do with our kid. Camping, for one. There's an island right in the middle of the lake, and with our canoe or the boat Taylor talks about getting all the time, we could easily make a weekend camping trip an adventure about five minutes from our home. 

We also talked about how we'd love to go camping way up in the remote north, away from practically everyone and everything. Taylor said he'd have loved to do that this summer, but with me being pregnant, being and hour or more away from any kind of help just didn't settle well with him. I told him that's one of things I would have liked to do before the reality of another little life came along, and what he said after that really kinda struck me in that obvious "duh" way.

He said that there's nothing he wants to do in his life that he can't do with a child by his side. 

The way people talk when you tell them you're expecting... they make it sound like your life is completely going to disappear and that everything you love to do now or would love to do in the future ~ basically everything that makes you who you are ~ goes up in smoke. I guess I started to believe that, and it was making me a little anxious and not a little scared of what to expect.

Honestly, though... people kind of suck when it comes to saying the right things. I don't know how many guys I've talked to about having kids who've said I'm going to turn into a maniacal B-you-know-what because all women (like their wives) get that way when they're pregnant, especially "when they're eight months and waddling around." Yeah. Thanks. I always want to tell them, "I'm surprised your obvious sensitivity didn't snap her out of it. Poor friggin' you for having to deal with a woman who barely has room for herself inside her own body."

I'm glad my guy has a lot more sense and understanding than that. And because he does, I do my best not to let my hormones get to me, or at least, not to affect him.

Anyway. I digress. Back to last night. We sat by the lake for about an hour and half, packed up our lovely new chairs, and drove the five minutes back to our house to watch an episode of Dexter. That's what we do. We have "movie/show" nights all the time. I grab my pillows and blankets, he grabs a beer, sometimes I make popcorn, and we make it a date. It's awesome, but still that little nagging thought came into my head.

This may be one of the last times we're able to do this. 

After the mind-blowing show (I love Dexter), we got to talking again, and I told him about these fears that were starting to bother me. Even with what he said before about being able to do anything in this life, even with a kid, everyone always tells me that my life will turn upside down and that all I have to look forward to are diaper explosions, spit-up, and constant crying. And, really stupid me, I was beginning to allow them to get to me. 

Taylor, in the way that he always does, made me believe otherwise. He basically said, in so many words, there's nothing we need to give up. We can have it all, if we make time for it, and just because our lives will be changing, that doesn't mean our lives are going to disappear. 

Just because people say one thing about their experiences doesn't mean that those will be what you have to expect. You can do things your way, and while the messy stuff will fit in there somewhere and things will most definitely change, it doesn't mean that you have to give up who you are. 

Sometimes my fear gets the best of me and makes me forget all the things that are possible. I remember my parents and how, instead of not doing things, just took us with them. I saw more concerts by the time I was five than some twenty-five year olds I know. Beach camping for more weekends than I can count is also something I vividly remember. My mom told me once that you have to raise a kid to fit your lifestyle and how you hope for them to live. That makes much more sense than what these other people I barely know tell me. I'm not listening to people anymore unless they know who I am.

The moral to the story? Kids become a part of your life. They don't take it away.

Cheers!

Truth.

What are these? Tears? What in the hell is going on with me? I've got tons to look forward to, just started an amazing new job, and I just got a new car, whoop whoop! (who doesn't like a shiny, brand-new ride?). And, sometimes, all I want to do is freaking cry.

The other night, I was in a horrible mood. I couldn't get comfortable. My back hurt. And, basically, I was just mad at everything around me because it was there. Typically, when I feel sad or angry, I get real quiet because, honestly, I really don't want to say anything I'll regret. (P.S. Doesn't always work.) So, I was silently brooding, trying to keep my snappy words to a minimum, when I finally just gave up and headed upstairs to just go to sleep and get over it already.

Taylor, my ever-patient husband, followed me up, sat on the edge of the bed, and asked if I was okay. (Or something along those lines.) And I just couldn't hold back anymore. I just started bawling. Not like quiet tears streaming down your face, but like full-blown-hiccups bawling. I couldn't stop! It was ridiculous and embarrassing, and did I mention ridiculous?

Taylor had his face screwed up tight in an expression that I could tell was holding back laughter. Usually, that would piss me off even more, because, hello, I'm obviously a mess here. But after finally just letting it out, I thought it was pretty hilarious too.

So, what did my emotions all boil down to? I guess it's because so much is different for me, and it's a sudden and drastic change. Not only that, but hormones have a tendency to wreak havoc lately.

I have so many limitations and things about my body that I can't control, two things that I've never had to deal with. I used to be able to go, go, go all day and be fine. Now? If I don't stop and take rest breaks, I'll pay for it the next two days. I have to pee in the middle of the night, every night. I don't remember the last time I slept through the night without waking, either because of an overactive bladder or because I just couldn't get comfortable. Also, I've got a bump, which I love, but sometimes I also just feel fat and lethargic, something I've always been able to control and now can't.

Now these are all things that are normal. I know this. Duh. But still. Your emotions don't exactly follow the wonderful line of logic.

I know, I know. It'll all be okay. Blah, blah blah. Honestly, from the eyes of a pregnant women, being laughed at is so much better than being comforted. It turns your discomfort into a comical, even if it's a natural, situation and makes the whole thing a little bit easier and a lot more fun. 

That's why I love Taylor so much. Instead of trying to keep me from crying (for no reason, whatsoever, I might add), he did his best to make me laugh instead.

Branching off of that....

I've heard people say they loved every moment of being pregnant.
You're liars, all of you! 

Just kidding.

But seriously.  

Taylor, always curious, asked me last night what it was like to be pregnant. If I actually felt the weight of something "else" in my belly. I definitely do, and while it's awesome, it can also be pretty uncomfortable. It was funny because he was trying to put himself in my shoes, and he said he'd probably feel violated. Yeah, that's the exact word he used.

I really had to laugh at that (still am laughing), because while that might be a strong word for it, it can ring close to home in some moments. (Plus it's just funny hearing that come from a guy's mouth.) It's amazing and wonderful to be pregnant, but, as I knew before (my mom worked labor and delivery for years), it's not all glowing and contemplative grins.

***

  

Taking things too seriously really just drives me nuts. So, honestly, most of this rambling is a way to make fun of myself on this hilarious and amazing turn we've taken in our lives to lead us on a new journey. It's my way of laughing at myself, so instead of letting my emotions hormones and this huge change overwhelm me, I can lighten my mood and anxieties and turn them into something I can reread six months down the road and laugh about.

Cheers!

So you're having a baby...

It's one of those surreal moments that make you feel as if you are walking through someone else's life. I'm sure most people imagine the day they become pregnant, all the way up until the time they get handed a little red, wrinkly bundle of joy in the delivery room. But no matter how much you think your imagination can prepare you, there is nothing like the truth of it hitting you full force.

I've never been one of those people that was absolutely sure I wanted to have children. I'd go back and forth, and to me, my fickleness proved that I wasn't ready. I'm 26, and the older I get, the more I revel in having the freedom to do my thing. I didn't even know if it was physically possible for me to have kids for several reasons, and while that idea was saddening, I wasn't devastated.

But you know, that day absolutely came, and it was kind of a surprise. I guess I honestly didn't think it would ever happen. I paced around the house for hours after seeing that little plus sign, a mix of laughter and tears and pure terror. Is this real? What the heck is happening?

After you find out you're pregnant, time moves fast and slow simultaneously. When you think pregnant, all you see is a huge belly and a waddle, but of course, that doesn't happen right away, making the idea even more strange. You still look the same, still feel the same, but nothing is the same. This lack of a sudden, huge baby belly makes the idea that there is life inside you even harder to believe.

Then BAM! You're poor husband spends his evenings alone because you can't keep your eyes open past 6:30. You're eating every couple of hours, and just the mere though of cooked meat makes you want puke your guts out, forcing you into semi-vegetarianism. Your bras get snugger, and much to your dismay, so do your cute skinny pants. Basically, you're exhausted and you feel fat and like your body has completely lost its friggin' mind.

Now here's where the "time-goes-by-fast" part comes in. Ticking off the weeks, and I'm amazed that I've made it through the first trimester. 14 weeks this Sunday, and, even though a little bump is becoming more prominent, I'm beginning to feel more like myself. It's starting to feel real after seeing the baby move in the ultrasound and setting a date to find out the gender. Heck-yes we are finding out! My grandmother sounded appalled when I told her, but in this day and age, why not? Besides, patience is not much of virtue for either me or my husband when it comes to something so exciting.

So yeah, I went from "Holy crap, what did we get ourselves into?" to being stoked. Once you see that little bugga on the black-and-white screen and you have a picture of him/her hanging on your fridge, the reality doesn't feel so weird anymore and every day is something to look forward to.

Backaches, headaches, ravenous appetite and all.

Now, I'm off for my two mile walk, because I will never take my precious energy for granted ever again.


Cheers!