Holding out

One more week and I’ll be officially classified “full term.” I’m hoping Cletus stays put for at least seven more days. However, after that, I would be totally fine with having a January baby. Really, whenever Cletus decides to voluntarily vacate this uterus is A-OK with me. I keep reminding myself that I could go to 42 weeks and it would be totally normal, but that is just too discouraging to seriously contemplate right now. I feel a little like I’m holding my breath to get to 37 weeks, so figuring in that many extra days beyond my due date is too overwhelming. But Darien has two business trips over the next five days, so this baby can’t come early. As soon as he gets back next week, I’ll be able to relax. We have our birth kit, clothes, diapers ordered, crib assembled, and birth team on alert. This is happening!

Sausage

I have sausage feet. Well, foot. And hands. I thought I had escaped symptom #43 when my Thanksgiving travel bloating went away after a few days. I think I have maybe two pairs of shoes that I can still stuff these swollen dogs into. Even my running shoes are feeling snug these days. Just add it to the list. I think I have had almost every possible symptom of pregnancy. There are a lot of them.

However, I am totally feeling a second (third? fourth?) wind going into these last few weeks. As physically uncomfortable as it is making me, I want Cletus to stay in there a while longer. I can finally count down the weeks till my due date one one hand. It has been exactly eight months since my last period. I can handle a bit more waiting. And since I was told at our last check-up that Cletus is average-sized, I am not afraid that waiting will yield a monster baby. (Darien maintains that it would be cool if we had a 10-pounder, but I am not convinced that is a goal worth striving for.)

Meet Bacon

That’s Sir Francis Bacon to you. He was my holiday knitting project. I just need a pipe cleaner to give him a curly tail, and then he’ll be all set to hang out with Radish (and Dora and Cletus, of course). Happy New Year, everyone!

Anyone got some extra torso lying around?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Cletus, I’m really looking forward to the day when you won’t be Cletus anymore because that will be the day you will no longer be inside me, and you’ll have a real name. You’re getting bigger by the day, and it feels like it. You’re moving an awful lot, which I know means you’re doing just fine in there, but you’re squishing all my important organs. It’s harder to do pretty much everything these days, and we still have a few more weeks to go. However, despite my discomfort, I have happily discovered that I am having occasional Braxton-Hicks contractions, so I guess my uterus isn’t a dud, and it’s getting ready for the work ahead.

If Mary could do it

I had a thought during Christmas mass: If Mary could give birth by herself in the cold in a freaking stable, I’m pretty sure I can do it in the comfort of my home with a well-trained caregiver and several loved ones around me.

Also, Joseph may have been pretty saintly for accepting the whole immaculate conception scenario, but he gets docked some serious points for making his wife ride into town on a donkey when she was full term.

Christmas with Cletus

Even singing at our holiday party couldn't quite get me in the spirit of the season.

It wasn’t feeling a lot like Christmas last week. We had our tree up. We had a stack of packages waiting to be opened. The advent calendar was counting down. And yet, I wasn’t in the mood. This is the first Christmas in several years when I wasn’t scheduled to sing, and we weren’t planning to visit any family. I began to regret our decision to stay home and have Christmas for two. The balmy weather wasn’t helping much, either.

Eight years later

We spent our anniversary roaming around the city pretending to be independently wealthy. That meant taking the day off work and basically working our way from meal to meal. We decided that even if we win the lottery (which we don’t even play), we would still want to work and do what we do. What does one do all day if one doesn’t have a job because you have more money than you know what to do with? (If we had a kid already, I’m sure our day would have gone differently, and we probably wouldn’t have been so bored with the idea of not doing something productive because child rearing is pretty damned productive.)

‘Tis the season

We bought our tree today. In my family, we always got a new ornament every year. Or we made them. Or both. My mom gave me all my ornaments when I got married, so now our tree is filled with memories from my childhood. We have a few ornaments from the year we were married, but I guess next year we’ll have to start up the tradition again as we celebrate our first Christmas as a family.

Cletus in concert

I am writing this on a train heading back to New York after an all-too-brief visit in Maryland. [Incidentally, if you haven't ridden Amtrak's business class, it's totally worth the upgrade. I splurged on train tickets so I wouldn't have to endure five hours on a bus both ways, and it was definitely worth it. Bucket seats are not a pregant lady's friend. I opted for the regional v. the Acela, but upgraded to business, and it is just lovely. Fortunately, the train down was running exactly on schedule, and the train back was just three minutes late departing. All in all, a pretty delightful way to get from here to there.] I arrived on Friday afternoon in advance of a rehearsal that evening. There was another rehearsal at 9 a.m. the next morning, and finally the concert on Sunday afternoon. The church is a large, vibrant, and busy one, thus the insane singer un-friendly morning slot. However, I survived with my vocal chords intact. I haven’t been singing much throughout my pregnancy since I left my church job, so I was a little worried my voice would be gone and not up to the hours of singing I put it through. Luckily, I was phonating comfortably on Friday, and capably on Saturday. Sunday was more of a challenge because the venue was so dry, but I opened my mouth and sound came out. People seemed to like what they heard, so I guess it was all good.

Never underestimate the value of a good phlebotomist

27 weeks

I had another great check-up on Monday. I was thinking the other day about the stories I have read about women who have had hospital births and then they go for midwifery care for the second babies. I can’t imagine doing it in that order. As a first-time mom, I need all the support and reassurance I can get, and I get it in spades with Kimm. Every time we meet with her I feel better. I feel reassured, I feel confident, I feel like everything will be fine.