the big 4-0

Today was Al's 40th birthday and it ended up being a great day. We started off with breakfast at Kerby's (our usual coney island joint) and I had to laugh as I sat down. We go there at least once a week, and this week I ended up touching. Touching what? My belly touched the table when I sat down in the booth. They are fixed booths and tables, so there was no way I could push the table away from me and towards Al. One of the waitresses came over and said, "I saw that!" It turns out that she and two other waitresses are pregnant too, two months and four months behind me. They're barely showing (I couldn't tell until she told me), but it turns out they've been closely watching my progress every time we come in. By next week, we may need a table--or, the waitress suggested, I could try sitting in the booth sideways! (I don't know if my hips would fit, either, though, since I'm a bit bigger than she is--she said that's what she did when she was pregnant with her first.)

When we arrived home, we both got to work. Well, Al right away, me after a while. He cut the trim for the baseboards in the baby's room and I played on the computer for a while before making the cushions for the momma rocking chair that will go in the baby's room. Since it pretty much looks the same as the baby rocking chair, I'll wait until I have pics of the room before posting those. Al also walked and bathed Mya, two of the many chores he's taken over for me since I became pregnant (including cleaning kitty litter, heavy lifting, etc.). Before we knew it, it was time to superparty! (Sorry, couldn't resist. Common word heard among Al and some of our friends.)

We headed to a favorite local restaurant/bar and arrived about 4:30. I had made reservations for 20-25 people, telling the restaurant that our friends were the type of crowd that would probably not all arrive at once. They gave us two tables for ten way in the back corner, which was perfect since most people (probably closer to 35-40 in the end) ended up standing instead of sitting most of the time. Almost every single one of our in-town friends made it, and between the socialization, the gag gifts, and the food and drinks we all had a blast. There was quite a contrast between our 40th celebration and the one right next to us--seats for at least twenty there, but half of their guests were tweeners and the other half were seniors, and they all sat politely, ate dinner, and watched our group in amazement (perhaps horror?). The noise, the joviality--all just part and parcel for us. And fun. For more pics, click here.

On the way back home, the first song on the radio was "Maybe I'm Amazed" by Paul McCartney. Al, who isn't much for romance or sentiment (that's me), turned up the radio and said, "If I could sing, I would sing this song for you." It was so sweet. He admitted, "I don't know all of the words, just a couple of them--it's not a bad song, is it?" :) I love my husband so much, and he reminded me several times over the next couple of hours that he loves me, too (lucky me!). I'm glad he had a great 40th birthday, and for those of you who helped make it happen, thanks!

floored

Guess what? Al got the floor done today! (That's the baby's room hardwood floor, in case you're wondering.) I can't show you pics just yet, since it's kind-of a mess in there--tools everywhere, some smaller pieces shimmying the final board, which was partially glued, partially nailed down in place--but soon. I promise. I'm so excited!

Let's see, what else? I decided it was time to not worry about wasting time and spent quite a bit of time on the computer this morning (too many "times" in one sentence, but I'm in a not caring mood right now). Then I spent two hours cleaning out drawers and cupboards in my bathroom trying to make room for baby supplies--shampoos, powders, the bathing center, etc. I only got halfway through since I move quite a bit slower than usual with this thirty-eight pound addition to my belly (that's how much I've gained so far--officially three pounds over the recommended twenty-five to thirty-five weight gain, but I'm not worried about that, either). I took another trip to JoAnn's (this time for cushion padding for my own rocking chair) and the cashier predicted I would give birth early and said she'd be praying for me. Everyone has an opinion when you're pregnant; not everyone offers prayers (especially strangers), so that was nice (even if she forgets to follow up on it). I went to physical therapy where they all laugh at and make fun of me (good-naturedly, of course, so I don't mind--it would be kind of funny to see a prego my size trying to exercise), then I went to Target to pick up a curtain rod for the baby's closet, some snack items, cake mix for Al's birthday cake (his 40th is tomorrow!), and CheezIts for dog training treats. I forgot the CheezIts. By the time I got home, Al was on his way home from a day of overtime.

Al arrived home with CheezIts and a 40. I tried to get him to go to his nephew's basketball game--very generous of me since it would have been the second one this week--but he would have none of it. He wanted to finish the floor (and believe me, I'm glad he did!). The only problem was I wanted to surprise him with a birthday cake, and that's really hard to do when the person you're making it for is in the house. I tried and was unsuccessful. He walked out while I was pouring the batter into the cake pans, something you can't stop mid-activity. Oh, well. We have a cake at the ready for tomorrow, and I told him I won't make him any more cookies until he eats his birthday cake (I'm a meany, but I made a kind that he likes and if I make cookies he'll just eat those instead since they're easier to grab). So that was my day in a nutshell. I didn't get to my goal of making the cushions for the adult rocking chair, but there's always tomorrow! I have several hours before Al's birthday party...

oops...postscript
I almost forgot to update you on Noah's jaundice. I was right; he didn't have low bilirubin counts, they were high. As of earlier this evening, his count was down to 14 (from what, I'm not sure) and that was much better than before. However, the doctors would like to get it down to 12 and stabilized before sending him home, so he'll be spending another night in NICU (unless he does get down that low, and then they'll move him to another ward). Daddy (Erik) says he looks much better, seems to love being under the lights, and should come home either tomorrow or Sunday. Both mom and dad are relieved and have been holding it together (although Erik says both of them have had their moments, too), probably much better than I would have. Thank you for your prayers!

bits and pieces

At thirty-five weeks pregnant, I can expected to have at least one tirade or mental breakdown a day, and I'm assured that's normal. (See? Now anyone reading this blog wondering if it is can have reassurance.) Today I had one of each: a breakdown in the early morning hours due to the fact that I woke up (for probably the fiftieth time that night) with every muscle in my body aching and a raw throat. I've been stuffed up for weeks, but last night it decided to start draining into my throat for some reason. That, combined with the dry air I had to breathe in through my mouth, made me miserable. I got up early and went to the recliner, trying to sleep in a sitting position. This was slightly better and I got to spend time with my cat--a rare occurrence since the puppy chases her every time she comes out--until my husband let the dog out and immediately started getting frustrated with her for all of the puppy love (nipping, jumping, etc.) that she was giving him. So much for resting. My tirade was at the end of the evening and involved strangers at the door asking for money; Al letting them in while I was hiding behind the door (I hate answering the door to strangers, and at the time I wasn't wearing a bra, which is always quite obvious with me); a very embarrassing, messy house; and Al giving away money we really can't afford for some cause that may or may not be legit. Enough said.

Al and I both had high hopes for getting the flooring and more done in the baby's room today, but it just didn't work out. After our eye doctor's appointments (they lasted an hour and a half!), we tried heading to the Secretary of State to get Al's driver's license and tabs renewed. Their computers were down. In every SOS in the state. Beautiful. Next, we headed to city hall to pay our taxes (for some reason, my husband has an aversion to both renewing his license/tabs by mail and paying the taxes by mail). When we finally got home, we had about an hour before we needed to head out again to puppy training. Mya did very good, got very tired, and wouldn't listen to us the minute we walked out the door, of course. We came home again and Al went online, found out that the SOS was up and running again, and went out again. I started sewing and finished the crib bumper I've been making (I also registered for a spare; we have a kind-of interchangeable theme going on for the room). I'll show you pics of that when I can actually put it in the crib, which is still in a box in the living room. Al, in the meantime, went between coming home, running out (nails!), coming home, laying two of the four remaining rows of hardwood, blowing the power, giving away our money, and leaving to play floor hockey.

After I finished the crib bumper, it was becoming quite obvious that Al wasn't going to get the floor done today as I had hoped. I really, really want to start putting the baby's room together and have my moments of Oh my gosh, I'm freaking out, there's so much to do and I can't control any of it and what if the baby comes before it's done because I'm not a normal mom that wants her baby by her side at all times and plan on using the crib right away, because who would want a dog in a crate, a cat, a husband, and a baby in her bed? every once in a while again. So even though I couldn't put the crib together or start hauling stuff from our living room (where I'm afraid it is doomed to remain forever) to the kid's room, I kept working on what I could do even before getting that room back: making cushions for the kid's rocking chair. That's what you see pictured here. The chair was a gift to me when I was a child (from my grandparents, I believe, but I can't be certain; mom didn't write it down in my baby book) and now it's being passed to my own child. The original cushions were long gone and the ones my mom tried to replace them with were icky--crumbling and covered with pillowcases that were pinned on. So I bought new cushions and made the red cushion covers. I'm quite proud of myself since I even sewed zippers into the covers (I've never done that before) and did it all without a pattern. My goal for tomorrow is to start working on matching cushions for the adult rocking chair we bought off of craigslist so that I can be comfy, too.

I've been putting off the bad news until the end. My new nephew, Noah, is back in the hospital all alone tonight getting a blood transfusion. Erik and Meaghan took him to the pediatrician they didn't like yesterday, and she discovered that his bilirubin levels were very low (at least, that's what my dad said; from what I read, they might have been very high). She sent them to the hospital where he spent some time in the NICU under the lights. Since there was only a small, uncomfortable waiting room for parents, Erik and Meaghan decided to come home and get some well-needed rest before heading back after breakfast tomorrow morning. They won't be able to take him home until tomorrow evening at the earliest, but they seem reassured that he should be okay. All we can do is keep praying! I'm proud of my brother and sister-in-law for handling it all so calmly. I think I might be freaking out a bit, even though this is fairly common in newborns.

That's all the bits and pieces for today. But stay tuned...I'll keep you posted!

doctor, doctor

Today is the first day of my thirty-fifth week. Eek! I'm getting more excited and scared all at once, and really, really hope Al is able to finish the hardwood floor either tomorrow or Friday so that we can start putting the room together. Since my doctor, who I got to see today, said I've been consistently measuring one week ahead in size, I'm wondering if they estimated my due date wrong and I'll deliver early. See, my original due date was March 5. But my first ultra-sound came back and they thought the baby seemed small for seven weeks, so they pushed my due date back to March 12 after discovering that my monthly cycle is usually longer than twenty-eight days (sorry, guys, but that's how they plan out the due date). I know that many new moms go over their due dates, but with the baby's size...well, I'm just hoping the house is ready for baby when he/she comes.

So, yes, my doctor's appointment, which was pushed back from Monday morning and then pushed back a couple of hours today, went fine. I asked him about the cramping and he said it was probably a contraction. But when I said it felt different than the Braxton Hicks contractions that I've been feeling. Those were a tightening, just as they described in birthing class. But what I felt Monday afternoon was a sharp pain. After hearing me describe it more, he thought that it was probably a muscle strain, which made sense to me. I was moving three fourteen-foot pieces of trim at once. Just from the kitchen table to the living room, and they weren't heavy, but they are awkward and I probably just moved a funny way trying not to bang into anything. Just one more thing the husband will have to do for me instead of me doing it myself! The doctor took longer than usual finding baby's heartbeat, but that's because the kid's very active these days. And now that I'm so far along, I have to go back weekly. Weekly visits make it more real, somehow. I'm really doing this. I'm really having a baby. I'm really going to have to go through labor and delivery. And I'm going to have to do it fairly soon. Wow, Al and I are going to be parents!

Al and I have a busy week ahead, filled with eye appointments and puppy training (Thursday), possible overtime for Al (Friday), Al's 40th birthday and birthday party (Saturday), and--well, no more real plans after that, but I've got a lot of sewing and studying to get done, and if the floor gets done this weekend, I'll be busy trying to put the room together. I'll be staining wood soon, too--the trim for the baby's room, the changing table (if Al ever gets it sanded!), and a few other odds and ends. It feels like it's going to be a non-stop whirlwind after today until the baby's born. I just hope we can get ready in time, and maybe take a breather before the big day comes.

The final news? I got to see Noah, my nephew, again today. He's as tiny as he was when he was born and a bit yellowish--jaundiced. Mommy and daddy aren't too concerned, but auntie (me) said they should mention it to the doctor when they call to make an appoitnment; the doc might have them come in sooner. I guess they didn't pick out a pediatrician before going to the hospital, and they didn't like the one that was on staff at the hospital so they were going to cancel Monday's appointment with her and try to find another doctor. He's also been screaming and crying since he's been home, except when he's eating or sleeping. They can't figure out why, except maybe because he hasn't pooped yet (or, as my husband would say, "gone number one"--he seems to have an aversion to the word poop, even going so far as to say "dog dirt" one time. Seems like a phrase someone a lot older than forty would say!). I just hope he feels better (if he feels bad) and happier (if something's wrong) soon! He was sleeping when I was there, and is such a cute little thing.

More tomorrow!

laughter, fear, and weeping (i am hormonal)

Yesterday I was standing in line at JoAnn when an elderly black man started laughing and said, "Ah, I know what you've been doin'," pointing at my stomach. He asked me what I am having (as everyone does these days) and swore up and down that I must be having twins. Nice way to say that I'm huge. I laughed politely and wished he'd go talk to someone else, which he did a minute later (after laughing at me some more). It's the only time since my fingers have swollen up that I wished I had my wedding ring on. He probably thought I was some unwed youngun' (I still get carded when I order alcohol, but I know I don't look as young as my students!) that got knocked up by her boyfriend or a one night stand. But that turned out to be the funny part of the day.

I had a scare yesterday afternoon just as I was settling in to do some sewing while watching Days of Our Lives (yes, I still watch it sometimes, thanks to the Focal Point gang and our lunchtime between 1:00 and 2:00 each day). I suddenly was having a very, very bad cramp in my belly, on my lower right side. It was pretty painful and lasted about fifteen to twenty minutes. If it would have lasted much longer, I was going to call my doctor's office and ask if I should be worried; I didn't want to call too soon since I had just been in there and the doctor got called away for a delivery. Just when I was thinking about picking up the phone, it eased up and didn't come back. I also felt the baby moving, an important factor in my decision not to call. If there wasn't any movement, you bet I'd be on the phone and frantic. I did cancel my physical therapy for the day (thought it was safer that way) and I do have a rescheduled doc's appointment Wednesday morning, so I think I'll mention it to him then. I'd rather be safe than sorry!

From the cramping point on, Monday was a day full of emotions for me. I was scared and praying hard through my cramp; calm and subdued when I couldn't reach my husband and then didn't hear from him for two and a half hours (I'm glad I wasn't mad, as would be usual; he doesn't always carry his phone at work, and I told him he has to have it on him at all times now until the baby is born--let's hope he does!); and I wept when, all in the same two minutes, my cat used my belly as a launching pad and cut me with her claw and I found out I withdrew from my research credits two days too late and need to pay a 10% fee on my tuition bill because of it (and here I was trying to save money since I don't make any right now. Another $123 down the drain.). I was happy that Chuck was finally coming back on and that I could record two more shows that would provide entertainment for the rest of the week: House and The Bachelor. I was feeling generous when my husband asked if he can go to his nephew's basketball game against his alma mater tonight. I was disappointed that no one tried to contact me through Facebook (at least, in the early afternoon; I usually am disappointed, since most people tend to use it more as a popularity contest to gather "friends" rather than actually keep in touch with friends) and suspicious that maybe the group of people from my high school class that are getting together in two weeks has been quietly narrowed down to the core group, not including me. I was full of remorse and regret for letting some close relationships go a few years ago, and sadness that now that I'm trying to rebuild those friendships, the other parties don't seem interested. Basically, I was a smorgasboard of hormonal emotions and even crazier than I usually am. And frickin' tired of feeling a huge pressure on my bladder every time I stood up (and sometimes when I sit down).

I know I'm not unique in being emotional while I'm pregnant, but it does help to write things out. I combatted my emotions yesterday by taking a nap, writing, and then finally starting to do some sewing for baby, which I've been planning on doing a while now. And making dinner, straightening up the kitchen, and watching Chuck with my hubby when he came home. Ah, a day in the life of a prego. What a thrill!

kickin' it old school

Our church is a large, non-denominational church that my husband and I are still getting to know and love. One of the things that I have always loved about church and church services is the worship service: being able to stand before my savior and sing as if he and I were the only two in the room. This is a side-note, but one of the things I clearly remember about the day I got saved (I was nine, at church camp) is understanding what I was hearing about Jesus' sacrifice for me for the first time, and closing my eyes and singing my heart out in thanks when it came time for the song service. I still love that to this day, and that's why (several years ago now) I was once one of the song leaders in a worship band at my old church. But that's another story.

The church Al and I are attending now is fairly large, and still fairly new to us. They have a unique setup (at least, of the churches I've attended) in that they have several worship bands that alternate leading the singing each week. Their song repertoire is so huge that I'm just beginning to recognize some of the songs, and still don't know the majority of them--even after attending since last spring. It's a bit of a bummer to me since I really, really enjoy being able to enter into worship through song, but I'm doing my best to learn them. One of the things that they don't do very often is sing the old-school hymns; when they do, they tend to sing them at a faster pace and even add choruses or verses that weren't there before. That was the case Saturday night.

On Saturday, it was Youth Night, so the youth group were the greeters, bulletin-passer-outers, and worship leaders. There was a small choir of them singing along with a band, and we sang a hymn in which the first two verses were just a bit faster, but the same as the original, and then the song changed completely: a chorus was added and two or three new verses were substituted in place of the original ones. It hit me that most of those kids (junior high and high school age) probably didn't even realize it was an old hymn or that it had been changed at all. I attended a church in which we sung hymns exclusively until I was thirteen, but these kids have grown up in an era where full bands (as opposed to an organ or piano) and the songs they hear on Christian radio are the norm in church. And--revelation!--this is the type of church that my kids will grow up in, the type of worship songs that my kids will know as the norm.

It was a bittersweet thought to me. I love the type of worship in my church, but there's something about those old hymns that is very special to me. Maybe it's because my mom and grandmother loved them. I know they weren't always old--in fact, many of them were put to tunes that were the secular songs and music of their day, just like some of ours--but I don't want them to become obsolete. I want my kids to know the old hymns, and the old tunes. So now I've got to be on the lookout for a kid-friendly cd or song collection that contains the hymn classics. That, or sing them myself, which I'm sure I would love but would get old (and potentially embarrasing) for my children. I've got a few gospel cds, but something made just for kids would be perfect. So if anyone out there knows of anything like this, I'm up for suggestions!

super spouse

It's Super Bowl Sunday, and while I couldn't care less about football, my husband loves it. It's pretty much the only thing he gets visibly excited about, and that's only around August when it's about to start up. So, in honor of my husband, whom I wanted to write about in this post, I've come up with this pretty lame title. But honestly, he is super (and I'm mentally rolling my eyes imagining the inflection he would give that if he said it aloud right now). Most of the time I think I don't deserve him, and I'm eternally grateful to him for loving me, and to God for bringing (and keeping) him into my life.

Now, it may be the pregnancy hormones kicking into overdrive, but there honestly is a reason to sing my husband's praises right now. Since Wednesday morning, he has been downright miserable (physically). He seems to have a horrible, no good, very bad cold that's been going around, one that was accompanied by a slight fever the first night. One that twice tempted him to stay home from hockey, and even my crying, ranting, and raving when I'm in one of those moods can't do that (although, come to think of it, I'd be wanting to get away at that point, too). And while he hasn't been the most pleasant person to live with while he's in this condition--he does get cranky sometimes--his first concern has been for me. I told you a few days ago that he called me from work wanting me to take echinacea so that I wouldn't get sick. But since then, he's asked if I can take cold medicine (you can if you're careful) in case I do get sick, saying that I'm already feeling miserable enough and he doesn't want me to have to go through a cold on top of it; he's instructed me not to use one of our two throw blankets since he's cuddled under it; he's refused to kiss me goodnight or goodbye in the mornings (I miss that); he's generally refused to touch me; and if he does touch me (or I touch him) or breathe, cough, etc. on me, he instructs me to keep my hands away from my face and wash them immediately. If I was sick? I'd be a big baby, whining constantly, asking him to do stuff for me and wishing my mom were still alive to take care of me. My husband is a good man.

The way Al has reacted to his sickness, miserable as he is, has made me a better person, too. I actually talked him out of doing work in the baby's room and around the house despite my eagerness to get everything done and set in place. I insisted that he rest on Thursday and not do anything, and it just goes to show how bad he felt by agreeing to do so. He did work Friday, but confessed when he came home that he shouldn't have; it just made him feel worse. We rested Friday night and were in bed by 9:30 pm. He slept til almost 11:00 am yesterday and did want to make a trip to Home Depot after brunch so he could buy a heat register cover for the baby's room, so we did do that (ended up buying trim, too), but once we got home he plopped down on the couch, me at the computer then the recliner, and we relaxed until time to go to church and our friend Matt's birthday dinner (hibachi--I had never eaten it and found it absolutely delicious; too bad I couldn't try the sushi). He was exhausted by the time we got home so I made him cookies while he took a shower (he likes cookies and milk before bed). Today, I'm just planning on doing what I can to prepare for baby and not worrying about the rest--I'll start the sewing I need to do, including the crib bumper, curtains, and chair pads.

Al's illness has turned me into such a good wife that I offered to leave the Super Bowl party we're attending at our friends' house if he doesn't feel up to attending when he gets off work (at 7:00 pm). Of course, this is wishful thinking. It's not that I don't want to attend, just that--ugh--it's football. I'll probably be the only one who doesn't care about the game. And if he does feel that bad, I'll feel bad for him. Anyway. Off to sewing.