Not It!

The whole gender-discovery thing is huge. It launches you into a totally new way of thinking about your baby (are there gonna be soccer games and baseball or dance recitals and cheerleading?! Barbies or G.I. Joe?! Will Jon need to sit out with a shotgun waiting for our daughter's first date, or do we worry about our son starting a fightclub?). So...

It'S a GiRl!!!

Naturally, finding out that she's a MiniMac has already started me thinking about how I'll do her hair when it's long enough and what princess outfits might be in her costume chest...  ;) 

Baby girl S, Years 2 and 20??? Yikes.

She was not terribly cooperative during our ultrasound today (I did decide to refrain from scolding the baby while still in womb, though, so alas - there was nothing we could do), but we managed to get some interesting shots of her spread eagle and giving us the thumbs-up (thankfully, not at the same time). I was so excited to see her moving and hear her little heart beating, it barely registered when the doctor said "girl." Jon and my mom were less composed. When I glanced over, they both had tears streaming down their faces. Oops was that the appropriate response? Maybe it's cause I've had her growing inside me for almost 5 months now, or maybe it's because I was so prepared to hear girl anyway, but I just sat there intently watching the movement. Couldn't even muster up a tear! Though I may have just had enough hormonal crying at this point.

Things appear "normal" otherwise. Arms are formed and in the right place; legs are there and kicking; eyes, ears, nose, mouth - check. And for that I am thankful and excited. I do kind of feel like I can relax a little bit more. As soon as we were out of the office, I started the phone tree. My brother's response: "well... guess you're gonna have to start saving up for a wedding now." Can you tell he wanted a nephew? Jon's mom was very excited to have a granddaughter after just having had a grandson, and I think my mom was happy for a girl, too. In an attempt to be fair, I texted all the friends at the same time. But if you've been following all along, you know Heidi's psychic abilities predicted a girl from the start, so there were no big surprises. So... time for the itty bitty baby outfits!

Aaand.... pink sucks. Ok I'm being negative and stupid, but holy crap I am suddenly surrounded by the color and I might throw up on it, except that throw-up also tends to be pink. And it's not that I don't want a girl! - I have just discovered that I am seriously, majorly, decidedly averse to massive amounts of pink. Please don't take this as "do not get our baby any more pink!" I'm sure I'll be appreciating it when we're 2 months out and she's dressed in the one non-pink item we possess and somebody complements me on what a cute little boy she is. I know there's a reason for this. I am just on pink overload at the moment. So please forgive me if I give my eyeballs a break by hiding the pinkness away in drawers and closets for a little while longer. I'll get used to it, I promise.

On the other hand, the plethora of outfits we've already received are awesome. They are sooooooo cute (various shades of salmon notwithstanding). And they make me even more excited to be having a baby, because obviously everyone else is excited, too.  :)   Even Bronson got in on the action (and he did so good getting bigger sizes). My fav onesie so far is from Jenna:

Yeah. That's wassup.

Some of our first "girl" gifts:

(Anyone sensing a theme, here?)...

Oh wait, these are different:

(kinda...)

It's funny how much stuff you accumulate just in the few days after you find out. Teddy bears and rattles are coming in from all over the place. Hand-me-downs are readily available. One of Jon's clients even got us the book Babywise. I mean those are people I don't even know! It's insane how a baby can bring such universal joyfulness. I feel like I should be jealous, except that it's such an amazing outpouring of generosity, I am wholly appreciative. My first unsolicited piece of advice to new mothers: purchase thank-you cards. Early.

Other things of note: I am Rh negative (Jon's blood is positive, mine's negative; if the baby's is positive and mixes with mine at any point, I could make scary antibodies that attack the baby blood). WTH. Apparently, this isn't so much a concern in a first pregnancy, but can become a problem with subsequent ones if I make any of those antibodies. They try not to make a big deal of it and basically tell me that what it means is a shot for me before and during delivery to counteract any issues. I hate shots, but this is clearly a necessary action, and it still worries me. I think I may have finally gotten used to the constant state of panic at this point, though, and have accepted that I will henceforth be endlessly worried about this poor child.

The Growing Baby Bump

Weird scenario 1: Hanging out at a bar/restaurant on St. Patty's day and watching people around me watch my friends "touch the bump." This is funny to me. And probably to them, too, because at this point it just looks like I've got a bit of a beer belly (ironic, since I don't even like beer and am currently avoiding alcohol). I imagine their thoughts to be "why are those girls rubbing her bloated stomach?" and "girl, you cannot pull off that tight little babydoll tee anymore." Apparently some of the bystanders are gay men in my mind.

Weird scenario 2: Taking pictures of the bump. How the crap am I supposed to be standing? Should I smile (I mean aren't you really just taking photos of the baby anyway)? I have this growth protruding from my abdomen, and I realize it's an anomaly that was previously absent from my frame, but I just feel silly standing there sideways waiting for the flash. Heidi, I think a posing lesson may be in order, stat.

Weird scenario 3: Bending over. It's not like I'm big. I mean I can still see my toes and some of my shirts barely reveal the belly, but I'm finding it quite difficult (ALREADY?!?) to bend over my stomach to pick something up or tie my shoes. Am noticing decreased mobility in other areas, too. It takes me just a little longer to get up than it used to, I can't twist around or make sudden abdomen movements, and this is not ok. I'm freaking out about it! Being trapped in your own body is completely surreal. And don't think I don't realize that the limitations will only get worse (woah yikes)...

(2 weeks ago - 16 weeks)

Big Mac

{week 18 and packing}

Maternity clothes. Ah. The bane of my pregnification. I'm just now at the point where my jeans will definitely not fit comfortably, and I don't care to wear a bella band every single day, so I've decided to make the preggo pair purchase. However, this is not as easy as it sounds. Sure, Pea in the Pod has some cute ones, but besides not being long enough, they are designer jeans and way out of my price range for something I'll only wear a few months. Forget finding any longs on ebay. Of course the weather has not been cooperating, so I'm forced to get these even though it's supposedly been spring for about a month. I am gonna try the consignment shop, but I'm doubtful there are many other pregs in the boro of my size who would turn in their jeans there. One can hope. If all else fails, I may have to order. Old Navy has one or two pairs that come in long, but they're not flare (get with the program, people!). Plus, if they don't fit I have to send them back. And that sucketh.

Random thought:
I was lying on our chair-and-a-half with Hanna across my lap, and I wondered if she could tell. Like, can she feel the baby underneath her paws? Because she puts them on my belly along with her head and keeps the rest of herself off. Does she do this on purpose? Probably not, but it would be kind of cool if she knew.

Current Cravings:  

• Bread and pasta. 24/7. I've been to PieWorks for lunch 3 times in the past month. And I get a full order of breadsticks on each occasion (half of which I eat a day or two later). Shout-out to Rob, the nice waiter who politely and continuously fills my water and doesn't comment [within earshot] about that little chick who can totally pack away the carbs.

• Food, in general.

A Lesson in Baby. And Spanish.

So we made our first diaper purchase at Costco today. Despite the good advice from some of our friends to start baby prep by buying diapers each time we find ourselves out, my first experience had involved me standing in the grocery store staring in horror at the multitude of diaper sizes and types and pretty much sprinting back to the "safe" non-baby aisles. Not cool. I truly have no idea what I'm doing. But Jon was bound and determined to take the plunge, so we sucked it up and bought our first economy pack (i.e. 248, i.e. not even quite a month's supply) of Huggies. The plan is to tape the receipt to the box and get a smaller size of them before realizing our child doesn't fit into Huggies. They were $43.00. Holy shizz.

But as if that process wasn't scary and reality-checking enough, we just had to stop by the children's books. Which was actually kind of fun except that I ended up having to pull Jon away from the Grover reader-pen stories before he opened one and tried to use it. We did, however, walk away with a cute little book about a Siamese cat named Skippyjon Jones. 

That night, Jon pulled it out to write a dedication to our unborn child. It went something like this: "Hi baby, this is the first book we got to read to you while you're still in your mommy's tummy. Can't wait to meet you." Then he proceeded to read the story to my belly.

First of all, you must keep in mind that Jon just looked at the book, read the first page and decided we had to get it. There was no further examination. We were only a little thrown when we opened it to the title page and the dedication was in Spanish. 

But 5 pages into the story, Skippyjon Jones the Siamese cat decides that his ears that are too big for his head and his head that's too big for his body mean he's really El Skippito, a Mexican chihuahua. Poor Jon stumbled through pages and pages of broken Spanglish, and 30 minutes later we were laughing hysterically at the fact that this supposedly simple children's book we'd purchased 1. had taken Jon a good half-hour to finish (maybe by the time the kid is 5, he'll have it mastered) and 2. had some serious Hispanic undertones (of course, by the time Jon has it down to 10 minutes, the kid will most likely speak Spanish).  You probably had to be there, but I just found it hilarious that the first book we lovingly purchased for the enrichment of our developing child clearly was not what we thought it was. 

Jon has since revised the dedication to include a disclaimer that he/she need not feel pressured to learn Spanish if they do not wish to do so.

"Pulling the Goalie"

So it seems I was under a bit of a misconception about the term "pulling the goalie." 

For some reason or other, it came up in conversation the other day, and when Jon said "You know, when you consciously go off your method of birth control, you're 'pulling the goalie' - i.e. taking him away from the goal to play offense," I was like ... wait, what?

All this time, I had so been thinking the reference went to a different, more literal point (think hard, you'll get it). I mean was I really so off? Hah I claim preggo-brain. Whatever. It could so mean both.

Urban dictionary, however (yes I really am overly caucasian I can't help it), offers more than one meaning. The other is just not what I expected.. 

Curious? http://www.urbandictionary.com/define.php?term=pulling+the+goalie

P.S. Am currently rethinking idea of using this as an online "baby journal"...