For Better, For Worse, In Sickness and In Pregnancy

I was in the bathtub yesterday, turning like a rotisserie chicken. Otherwise my belly gets really cold. Turning, turning, turning. Lah-de-dah. Then I decided to get out... and realized I was stuck. So I called for Dave to help me out of the bathtub, and he willingly obliged.

Then I was sitting on the couch, typing a paper, when the phone rang. The phone sat only inches away, but Dave had to answer it because I couldn't get there in time.

I have to remove my toenail polish by Tuesday morning, but I can no longer reach my toes, so I've already lined Dave up for that job, too.

When we got married, we made all those "for better, for worse, in sickness and health" promises - I just didn't realize that we'd have to make good on those promises so early in our marriage. This time last year, I didn't imagine that ten months later my husband would have to pull me out of the bathtub, or remove my nail polish, or anything else remotely associated with infirmary. But here we are.

I often read that having children affects your relationship with your partner- but I haven't once seen any acknowledgment that pregnancy affects your relationship, too. For better, I hope.

Mass Chaos Ensues!

We've had a medically-intense week - three doctor's appointments in 7 days, another scheduled next Wednesday, and to top it all off, the veterinarian's office has become our second home due to Purna eating a large wad of ribbon and undergoing emergency surgery on Monday. Whew! The smell of antiseptic is coating our winter jackets!

On Monday, the baby weighed in at a whopping 6 pounds, and I'm on modified bed rest for the next two weeks (we'll be at 36 weeks then) to keep baby from pushing through to the other side. It's too early, baby. You need to stay in there a little longer and bake. But baby is ready to see the world and play with all the great toys we've been given... baby wants to come now, even though our due date is still 6 weeks away. The doctor said our goal is to have the baby hang out for two more weeks, and then we'll see what happens. All of this information led to Dave having a major freak-out and deciding last night that no matter what, he had to put the crib together. JUST IN CASE.

Well. Like I said, I'm on modified bed rest which means I wasn't going to help, and we didn't call a friend over because it was Friday night, and so Dave disappeared into the back room for 4 hours to battle the crib directions all by himself. Let's just say that some major steps in putting together this most important piece of furniture were missing, Dave got cranky beyond belief, and I slept through it on the couch. But now... TA-DA! The crib is ready, except we have no sheets or anything, but still...

Then this morning on the way to pick up a prescription, Dave installed the infant car seat, too. JUST IN CASE. So now we're closer to being ready for the big arrival, even though we really need the baby to stay put for at least two more weeks. Hang on, little one. 'Cuz once you come out, there's no going back in.

Dave Has Enough: "Stop Bludgeoning Me with the Baby"

I'm carrying a wide load, and I'm carrying all of it straight out front. I still have a waist, an hour-glass figure even. I also have the largest belly imaginable, and it's only getting bigger with every passing day.

So I'm making some adjustments, like sitting farther back from the computer desk at the clinic and angling myself at the dinner table because the belly doesn't fit underneath. Don't get me started on washing dishes - I can do the plates and silverware ok, but as soon as I try to wash the pots, with my short arms at odd angles because I have to stand so far from the sink... I beg off and leave them for Dave.

A baby gut is not a beer gut - it doesn't move out of the way, it can't be sucked in, and it's hard as a rock. Think of it as an extra appendage.

And I love my husband. A lot. (Has that come across in these entries? We have been accused of being sickeningly cute with each other, which is why it's a good thing no one else lives with us). I get excited when he arrives home, or when we cross paths as I beeline toward the bathroom, or when I decide that it's time to go disturb him as he does his homework.

So with all my enthusiasm in mind, picture me rushing toward my husband and almost knocking him over with the belly. Bam! Dave grabbed the counter and remained upright, but he almost hit the floor. And then he had to say the following words: stop bludgeoning me with the baby!

Never did I consider that I would be responsible for abusing my husband with our child in utero. This is my public mea culpa - sorry, Dave!

Dave and Baby Have Their First Private Moment

If you don't already know this, Dave is a big political junkie, and Super Tuesday was the first time either of us have voted in a primary during an election year. And Dave was excited. And Dave didn't want to go to bed last night because he didn't know how California had voted yet in either the Republican or Democratic primaries. So I went to bed, and Dave stayed in the living room and flipped back and forth through the TV channels hunting for results until he finally got some answers.

In the meantime, I fell soundly asleep.

Dave then got into bed, and I was on fire! Hot, hot, hot. And Dave was kind of cold, so he snuggled up next to me to use my body as a radiator, and in the process, put his hand on the belly. And what a surprise! The baby started kicking, rumbling and tumbling, and Dave lay there feeling the baby's movement for a good five minutes. All the while, I was completely asleep - thus, it was the first time that Dave and baby have had a private moment to themselves. I like to imagine what Dave looked like as he held his hand to my tummy, what Dave felt with his hand, how thrilling it must have been for him to have this little moment with his child.

A Brief List of Updates

Just to keep you up-to-date:

1. Today is the beginning of week 27 - it's the last week of the Second Trimester!

2. I had a 3 hour fasting glucose test last week, and I passed with flying colors! This test diagnoses gestational diabetes, which is a growing concern for pregnant women. Special thanks to Dave for always making me eat my vegetables - it helps that he makes such great food. Last night he made his first sauerbrauten roast with cabbage and potatoes... what a feast!

3. In the past week both Dave and I have dreamt about the baby as a human being, and both of us have attached a face to the baby in our dreams. It seems strange to dream about someone's face whom you haven't even met.

4. I can no longer read aloud - I become winded and start panting like I just raced up the stairs two-at-a-time. My lungs are squished!

5. We bought a crib. It was becoming an existential dilemma, but then we asked our landlord John point-blank what he thought, and he gave us some very sound advice: all new cribs are built with safety in mind, so go with what you like. It was a good thing we went ahead and ordered the crib, too - it takes 10-12 weeks for delivery, which in my book is cutting it a little close.

6. We are starting a baby registry, but we aren't going to tell you the site yet. I need to tweak a few things first.

7. My uterus is the size of a basketball, which is exactly what I look like. A basketball with four limbs and a head. Today I tried on four different shirts while getting dressed, and when Dave asked what was taking so long, I told him that I felt like a lump. He said, "You don't feel cute and pregnant and adorable, which is what you are?" I reiterated that, no, in fact, I felt like a lump. But it's nice to know that my husband isn't thinking, "Why is there a lump in my bed?"

Happy New Year!

We hope you're excited for 2008 - to say we're excited might be an understatement!

Baby is growing, I am growing... in the past eleven days I have changed shape substantially (pictures are forthcoming after we return to Syracuse)- there's no doubt anymore that when a stranger sees me, they know I'm a pregnant person. Baby's foot (head? hand? who knows!) sometimes gets shoved under my rib (very uncomfortable), but I have discovered that if I jump around or lay on my left side, baby will move into a better position and leave my ribs alone.

I am trying to get Dave to put on a little baby belly, but so far, no luck.

Xray vision?

I am standing at one end of the house, ironing clothing that has been patiently waiting to be ironed for 6 weeks. Dave is at the other end, paying bills. We are having a quiet morning of chores (welcome to vacation!). Then Dave walks through the house toward the kitchen, I smile at him, and the baby kicks! Pow! It's like the baby has Xray vision. Here comes Dad!

Dave gets kicked by his own child

So I wrote yesterday that the first time the baby kicked was during our 20-week sonogram, but since then, the kicks have been more frequent and more pronounced. It's great fun, especially when we're sitting at the dinner table and suddenly I say something profound like, "Whoa!"

I do feel a little guilty that I get to feel all this wonder inside, and Dave gets to listen to my explanations, especially when the explanations are as interesting and varied as, "Whoa." It doesn't seem very fair...

until two nights ago, when we were lying on the floor watching TV, Dave's hand on my belly, and BOOM! Baby kicked Dave right in the hand. Dave asked, "Did you do that, or did the baby?" I told him the baby, and then we celebrated like it was New Year's Eve. Ah, the pleasures of experiencing all this stuff for the first time. It's like it's my birthday every single day.

Where's Dave?

Here's Dave, looking at the Baby Name Book. I'm posting this photo because some lady in the peanut gallery (comments section), going by the moniker "Not Really That Anonymous," (Hi Mom!) demanded a photo of Dave be posted. So here he is. Welcome to the Blog, Dave!

Dave has Pregnancy Radar

Don't try and hide it from Dave. If you're pregnant, he'll find out. Suddenly he is picking out women on the street, saying, "She looks about 4 months, don't you think?" He is hyper-sensitive to pregnant women. I guess sharing a bed with one cat, a pregnant lady and her large body pillow makes a man aware.

We found out that we were pregnant in Newfoundland, before I had even missed my period. I had known immediately that we conceived, but Dave and I both didn't say anything to each other, hoping not to jinx it by revealing our intuition. Then I started having these sharp abdominal pains, and then Dave said I smelled weird. Not bad, but different. He could tell. He knew I was pregnant.

Once we landed in Newfoundland, I was ill and feeling out of sorts, and Dave got to go grocery shopping in St. John's and bring back to our apartment Saltines and GingerAle. After a few more days of this, and continued abdominal pain, we broached the subject. Were we pregnant? We both thought so, but there was no proof. So Dave hiked back to the store and bought a pregnancy test. And even though it was too early to use it, I went ahead and peed on the stick - and there were two pink lines. Dave's pregnancy radar had officially begun to work.

But the best story is that after Dave's first day of graduate school, he came home and told me that his professor was in her early stages of pregnancy. She hadn't said this, but he claimed it was obvious. Not that obvious, though. Not obvious enough that everyone would look at her and say, "Pregnant lady." Obvious to Dave and no one else.

Then two weeks later, the professor lets it slip in class. Yes, she is pregnant, not much farther along than me. Her confession made Dave smug. He really does have pregnancy radar.