39 Weeks: Done

12 09 2011

This is the last picture of my baby tummy:

If you look closely (please don’t), you can see the marks where the fetal heartbeat monitor has been sitting.  This is after about 12 hours of labor, and in between contractions and vomiting.

All of which is nothing but a sweet memory now…


38 Weeks: Commencements

2 09 2011

Ah… 38 weeks.  Full term.  Two weeks until the totally meaningless due date (there’s a 5% chance this baby will be born on that day).

A little over a week ago, I started gearing up for the final stages of impending-baby preparations.  You know, washing all the diapers and a selection of clothing, stocking up on tasty beverages for labor (the non-alcoholic kind – if only because alcohol can impair labor), packing a bag for delivery, and setting up baby’s things around the house.


Since when do Jason and I do “typical”?

Right.  So, Jason worked some financial magic, and last week we committed to residing the house, reroofing the house, and having new windows installed.  Okay, we really need this stuff done: we had snowing blowing in through the windows last winter, and we listened to our 30-year-old wooden shingles being blown off during storms.  These aren’t frivolous repairs.

But it’s going to take, oh, eight weeks, give or take a few days.

And we’ll have a baby in, say, a week or two or four.

Did I mention that some reframing of walls is included in this project?  And that there is already a freeze warning in effect for our area (um, goodbye summer, it was nice knowing you…).

Now the old roof is off, and left behind a thick layer of dust on, well, everything, including the baby’s changing table and freshly washed diapers.

And then I started working.

Because, when you are 0 – 37 weeks preggo, you think, oh, hey, working for the couple of weeks before my due date will distract me and give me something to do so I’m not bored.  Then the 38th week arrives, the alarm goes off at 5:30am, and you realize I was in no danger of boredom.  And then the cat gets an eye infection and has to be kept in the house all night, and he protests by punching you in the face every 30 minutes or so, claws extended, and it dawns on you that you are going to be exhausted with a messy house and no clean diapers unless this kid delays her entrance by about eight weeks.

So, despite my long summer vacation leading up to my due date, and all my good intentions for a well-organized home for my newborn, it turns out that I am going to start life with a new baby just like most other moms.  And just like most other moms?  I can’t wait.

37 Weeks: What’s Cooking

28 08 2011

With no nursery to go nuts decorating, and no money with which to go crazy buying baby stuff, and without an attention span conducive to white-glove-cleaning, my nesting instincts have been primarily satisfied in a culinary manner.  That is to say that I have been frantically filling my freezer with homemade meals, with the understanding that for some time post-baby, I won’t really feel like whipping up a meal.  Since I barely have the motivation to cook once or twice a week without an infant in the house, I am on board with not cooking once I’m seriously lacking sleep.

Okay, so by “frantically filling my freezer,” I mean that I am cooking when it isn’t too hot (mind you, it’s August in the high desert), when I’m not too tired (mind you, I’m about 9 months pregnant), when there isn’t something better to do (mind you, we have Netflix streaming for several hours a day), and when I’ve successfully brought home all the ingredients from the store (typically by my 3rd trip).

For the record, I do not have any skills in the kitchen.  In fact, I suck at reading recipes and following directions, which is why it takes me 3 trips to the store to gather everything I need for any given recipe.  And I am stymied by seemingly simple challenges.  Like when the whisk got hopelessly coated with a parmesan sauce: it sat next to the sink for two weeks until I eventually (successfully!) chipped the hardened cheese off; the garlic press is still there, because I haven’t found a way to get the squished garlic out of it.

Also, I can only face scenes like this so many times a week:

Okay, that’s not even half the mess I usually make, but what’s special about this particular set of dirty dishes is that they were created just before we went camping for three days.  We were only home for 24 hours before we headed off to the valley for another three days, during which time I did laundry.  Not dishes.  So these are week old dishes.  And that is a depressing sight.

Also, it is somewhat of a deterrent that we keep eating while I’m trying to hoard all this food.  I prepare three different dishes, and when Jason asks if there’s anything for dinner, I kind of freak out a little: “NO!  There’s NO FOOD IN THE HOUSE!  Order a flippin’ pizza if you’re hungry!”  “But it smells like you’ve been cooking…”  “NO.  I HAVE NOT BEEN COOKING.  GET OUT OF THE KITCHEN…. DON’T LOOK IN THERE  – GET AWAY FROM THE FREEZER!  STOP!  STOP!”

But here’s what I’ve managed to get in the freezer so far:

Turkey Chili, Beef Chili, and White Bean Chili

Chicken Nuggets (2 bags)

Spinach Pie x2

Beef Enchiladas x2

Black Bean Enchiladas x3

Beef Burritos x12

Lasagna x2

Chicken Tetrazini x2

Mini Meatloaves x4

Beef and Cheese Stuffed Rolls x24

BBQ Burritos x8

And more on the way… I’ve got at least two-thirds the ingredients for zucchini lasagna (after 2 trips to the store with a grocery list), and a long weekend coming up.

In addition to cooking meals, I’m still cooking this baby, who doesn’t seem any closer to being done than she was a week ago, or a month ago.  However, since I have at most 5 weeks left, and just 3 weeks left until my due date (actually, it took so long to write this post, I am now 38 weeks, with 2 weeks left until my due date), I suppose I am pretty damn close after all.

And I’m totally  ready.  As soon as I get this last recipe done…


19 08 2011

… all that has been standing between me looking like the Michelin Man versus some semblance of my pre-pregnancy self was three days a week in the pool.

Between a camping trip and a visit to family, I skipped a week of prenatal water exercise.  My feet, ankles, fingers, and wrists swelled a little each day.  I had to remove my watch and the hair bands from around my wrists.  Seriously, the hair bands are elastic.  They stretch.

We got home from a three-hour drive yesterday at 5:30.  I kicked Jason, the dog, and the cat out of the car and headed straight for the pool.

Luckily, nobody stopped to ask me any questions about tires.

36 Weeks / 1 Year

17 08 2011

Jason and I have been married for one year now.  Considering that I’ve pretty much been pregnant for that entire year, that we still don’t have a baby, and I have another four weeks left of being pregnant, I think that it’s pretty damn impressive that we’re still on speaking terms.  Most of the time.



35ish Weeks: Pondering the Milk Industry

12 08 2011

My 35th week of pregnancy is coming to an end.  Okay, well, it’s half over now, so in my own mind I’m in the vicinity of 36 weeks.  And 36 weeks is just one week shy of 37 weeks, and 37 weeks is a milestone because then I am technically full term, though it may be 5 weeks beyond that when I actually have the baby.

Which means there’s hope that I won’t be the first woman in history who really does stay pregnant forever.

At around 32 weeks, I began to feel like I was getting close to the end, and I had a surge of excitement.  I can do baby laundry! I thought.  I should pack a bag for labor!  Then I did the math and realized I still had as many as 8 weeks left.  8 weeks is, like, 2 months.  Which, in terms of pregnancy, is practically forever.

But yesterday, I bought some milk at the grocery store.  It expires on September 28th.  The maximum anyone will let my pregnancy go is September 26th.  Do you see the significance?

I will have a baby before the milk in my fridge goes bad.

Jason and I talked about this last night.

“I’m getting excited about the baby,” I told him.  “I bought milk at the store today…”

“What, like breast milk?”

“No!  I bought milk at the store, and it doesn’t expire until September 28th…”

“Milk stays good for six weeks?”

“Well, actually, that seemed weird to me, too.  And it’s organic milk.  But listen…”

Anyway, it’s just three weeks now (and a couple of days, for you calendar sticklers) until my due date, and I am excited, of course.  I’m so curious to see this little demon who has been terrorizing my body for 9 months!  It just seems preposterous that we’ve created a brand new person.  No matter how many times I look at the crib and the diapers and changing table and the tiny clothes, I still have trouble believing that we’re going to be bringing home a baby.

And not just some time in the future, but possibly before we bring home another half gallon of milk.


11 08 2011

I was in the kitchen when I heard Jason, talking on the phone in his office.

“I’m going to have a daughter here pretty soon, in September…”

Okay, call me a giant, quivering mass of pregnancy hormones loosely held together by a veneer of maternity clothes, but I had to freeze right where I was and absorb that sentence.

Jason’s talked a lot about the baby, but this is the first time I’ve heard him talk about his daughter.

Honestly? It’s impossible for me not to tear up every time I think about it.

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