Thirteen weeks...I really like your peaches...

We're thirteen weeks today and the little guy is a PEACH. Neither M. nor I can believe how big the baby is and how fast things feel like they're going.

Some say the second tri starts at thirteen, some say fourteen. We're counting fourteen. For our BIG rollover next week we're going to celebrate by going to Babies-R-Us and registering.

Yay!

I also seem to be feeling a little better. It could be a faker since I've felt better briefly in the past then gone back to sick after a few days.

Two more days of work then a little rest. Sacha needs the rest.

Crafty Girls

The yarn we picked out for the baby blanket I'm knitting

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M. and I have decided that we're going to break the grip of the ridiculously overpriced crib set. You know what I mean. The one that's sticky sweet, super fluffy and hundreds of dollars.

Her new sewing machine arrives this week. We've found a pattern and started looking for fabric we like. M.'s aunt is going to make the quilt. We're making the box pleat bead skirt, diaper holder and not-to-be-used bumper. The nursery will be green, girl or boy, so we can pick out the coolest, hippest fabric we can find.

And I'm knitting a blanket. It's knit using a double strand, one light green, one darker green (see above), and I'm using washable wool. Yay! I should have enough left over for a hat.

It's nice to make things for Cletus the Fetus (our latest in-utero name). It's distracting, gives me something to do during my hours of lying quesily on the couch, and we can get what we want for a reasonable price.

But the crib set will not be the first project M. does on her new sewing machine. She's going to make me MATERNITY SCRUBS.

He he, we are so crafty.

Pics from the San Juans

pictures from the san juans

I finally got our pictures from the camping trip downloaded. This is our favorite. M. snapped it while we were hiking at Shark Reef Park.

No, really, I don't want a shot....I'm pregnant

We went to a party last night in an effort to shake off some of the self-imposed isolation we've been feeling. Being exhausted all the time can incredibly...exhausting, and I've started to think that I just am not worthy, or worthwhile, enough to be around other people. After all, who really wants to be dragged down into my hormonal induced pregnancy funk with me?

The party was fun. Well, mostly fun. Because once again M. and I found ourselves being the token lesbians in a SEA of gay men. And you know what...gay men don't talk to women, and they do a lot of dick talk. M. and I have decided they shouldn't be allowed to be gathered in large groups...like TWO or more.

Instead of being the wall-flower lesbians, M. and I decided to drag the boys into our little world and we started harassing people until they talked to us. This resulted in us being harassed to do shots over and over again, until I had to blurt out...

I'M PREGNANT.

He he.

First the boys were VERY confused. You could see the logistics of a PREGNANT lesbian going through the channels of their alcohol riddled brains. A PREGNANT lesbian...how does THAT work? One informed M. that she had some explaining to do about my current condition.

In the end we had a great time. All of the sudden we were the celebrity pregnant lesbians, and our fabulous neighbors showed up to entertain us for the rest of the evening.

And I got to feel a little more human for a few hours.

P.W.A.

I went to my first pre-natal water aerobics class last night. It was strange to be part of The Club.

The Club being pregnant people. All of the sudden I'm not on the outside, watching them blissfully rub their annoying, swollen bellies. I'm in the middle of an Oprah watching, stroller buying, due date comparing...mindless HERD.

Part of me wants to fight this, although another part keeps asking myself...isn't this what I wanted? I'm not sure.

I don't like the culture of pregancy. It's the part of our society that says the pregnant woman is the most precious, fragile thing we have. It's the part that provides Stork parking. After you emerge from pregnancy then you get to be assualted by the kid-centric world, like my YMCA catering to families when I KNOW many people who go there who don't have kids.

Do I want to contribute to these trends in society that so deeply offend me?

The prenatal water aerobics was fine. I did my best to make it as much as it could be. At the same time, I became one of them. I became PREGNANT and nothing more. Not a kick ass nurse. Not a good life partner. Not mom to four cats. Not a bleeding heart liberal. Not a queer activist. Just pregnant.

What's after this? Just a mom? Are children so life defining that you lose the rest of you?

I've decided that I'm P.W.A. Pregnant With Attitude. Because I'm not going to go gently into this. I'm not going to find a family and lose myself in the process. And I will not watch Oprah.

This is Anne and M's fault

M. and went on a pilgrimage to Whole Foods (ahem, Whole Paycheck) yesterday, all the way across the LAKE to the EAST SIDE because they have RAINCOAST CRISPS. This is all Anne and M.'s fault. If we'd never ever tasted those amazing little tidbits we could stay safely tucked in our little Seattle haven. But NO. Now we must go find them. In freakin' BELLEVUE.

Oh, and I finally bought an iPod. Because the baby needs it. Really. that wasn't Anne and M.'s fault. I can only blame myself.

The Niephew

It's funny how the baby's gender depends on the gender of the person talking. The boys (my pops, brother, even DtD) refer to the puggle as "he". The girls (M., MIL, mom) don't seem to have strong preferences.

Yesterday my brother dropped off his car with us while he's out of town at a training. He asked M. how his little nephew is doing. She quickly corrected him, telling him that it COULD be a girl. So he says...

How's my little NIEPHEW?

He he.

The best part? I actually found it over at m-w.com. Okay, it was in their open dictionary, but doesn't that make it legit?

Ultrasounds, the crack cocaine of pregnancy

I can understand why people love ultrasounds. Ever since we saw the little figlet I would love to see him again. I love to remember how his little hand punch into the air, defiantly, as if to say, 'screw you moms' from the very beginning.

With the new study saying that ultrasound can do damage, it's prudent to minimize them as much as possible. Yes, prudent, the recurring them of pregnancy. It's prudent to continue the progesterone until week fourteen. It's prudent to take those antibiotics. It's prudent to stay away from soft cheese, lunch meat, blue veined cheeses and anything else that tastes REALLY GOOD.

Prudent.

Still, there's this temptation. After all, if they really NEEDED an ultrasound after the 18-20 week mark, I guess we'd HAVE to comply. I crave a fix.

The crack cocaine of pregnancy.

Sex!

Ha, got your attention :)

M. and I are leaning toward finding out the gender of our lovely little figlet. We had both decided we wouldn't, except I'm the type that peeks at ALL christmas presents and M. is the type that plans like a banshee.

To know or not to know, that is the question.

What's your input, beloved readers (can you tell that I've had a nap, I'm feeling borderline funny)? If you've been there, done that, was it worth it? If you didn't find out, was it the best surprise in the world?

Help!

My Placenta Brain Kicks In

Firstly, let my strongly suggest never searching for pr*gnant l*sbians on Blogger. There is some STRANGE shit out there. Pervs.

The placenta brain is kicking in.

Yesterday at work I walked out of my patient's room with every intent of returning to make his bed (yes, my hospital is primary nursing care, kids, meaning Sacha gets to give meds, monitor vitals AND make beds). By the time I'd gotten to the nursing station to do some quick charting, I'd completely forgotten what I had to do.

Usually I might forget my specific task but still know I was doing something. Nope. I sat down and proceeded to stare at the computer. I thought to myself, I actually don't have anything to do. It took me ten minutes for me to remember that I did have something to do and another ten before I remembered WHAT IT WAS.

This is NOT normal for me. I live by my memory.

Ahhhhh!

Back from the Hinterlands!

Seems babycakes decided to be crabby while we were out of town and away from all things electronic.

We had a great time, although M. has declared that the first trimester is NOT the time to take a mini-vaca. Well, unless your idea of a good time is your wife queasy in the car and falling asleep half the time.

Poor Anne and M. ended up camping with us through the one night of awful, awful rain. The rest of the trip was beautiful, sunny and clear weather.

We were so happy so see a bed with a down comforter on Monday night at our friend Angela's house. We met her fantastic husband for the first time and both really liked him. It was house of the preggos since Ang is 7.5 months pregnant. They have a great cat named Louie. Poor Louie has no idea that he's about to be demoted to number two.

We made an emergency stop at Motherhood for preggo clothes. The really cute jeans I got from JC Penny are freakin' TOO BIG and I was tired of pulling them up constantly. $88 later I have a new shirt, new pair of jeans and a pair of black pants. Sacha is happy. We also found these cute little jumpers for the little frog for $3.00 each. They are blue but we decided we could throw them on a girl too. I mean, $3.00. That's thriftstore pricing, baby.

Pics later. Well, since I had to rush back to work the next morning, as soon as I get time and when I'm not falling asleep.

Gone Camping

Belly Shot #3 10w0d

Hmmm, I'm not convinced I look much bigger than the last belly shot (7 weeks). M. thinks I look more filled in, I think my boobs are looking bigger. What you can't see is how tired I am in this picture. It took everything in me to smile. After work, not a good time for a photo shoot. The problem is that we roll over on Thursdays and I always work Thursday.

Exhaustion - Warning, whining ahead

I'm just finishing my second shift in a row. I swear I had a million brilliant things to blog about but they have all slipped away. My body aches..I mean ACHES. And my patients really haven't been that heavy (weight-wise) which is why I haven't refused to turn and move people. Considering that my right shoulder feels like it may have been dislocated, I may have to rethink my plan and decide that I'm not moving ANYONE anymore.

Being preggo and nursing (as in RN) SUCKS.

The wonderful thing about nursing (note the sarcasm) is that your day can blow up on you at any moment. Mine was doing fine until an hour before end of shift. BLAMMO. It blew up. The only consolation is that if I'd had an entire day that bad I would have seriously put a gun to my head.

So yes, this post is whiny, useless, not of interest, which is how I'm feeling right now.

What's the solution? Tylenol. Rest. Five days off.

Grandma Insanity

I was the first grandchild/great grandchild in my family. Our baby will the first grandchild/great grandchild in my family. All of this is creating a certain level of discernable insanity in my mother. She is beside herself to become a grandmother.

To understand this it's important to understand that my mother is a little insane to start with. In a good way. This is the woman who used to wake me up by jumping on my bed and singing The Age of Aquarius from Hair.

She's sending us a surprise. She won't tell us what it is.

Our very first baby gift.

Whew...The Blob Emerges

We're back from the very nerve-wracking U/S and everything looks great so far. What a relief! The ONE baby measured at 10 weeks and CRL was 31mm. HB was 170. We even got to see some arm punches, but mostly saw the back of the baby.

Must be camera shy!

It's strange to look at the pictures and think that it's OUR baby. Especially after spending so long looking at other peoples' ultrasounds.

Can't wait to see the little one again in 8-10 weeks.

Our First Ultrasound

When M. and I met with Midwife Sally we discussed my DVT history. For any layfolks out there, DVT stands for deep vein thrombosis. Turns out that I'll probably have to see a perinatologist for a consultation and they may put me on either a low dose of aspirin or lovanox.

If I think about it too much it makes me a wee bit stressed.

Anyway, the perinatologist will want to see an ultrasound. So we're getting one. Today. At 1:50.

Part of me is excited. We finally get to see the baby. Part of me is worried. I've known two people now who found out their baby was dead during an ultrasound.

As the great homo voyeur, singer/sage, George Michael says...

Ya gotta have faith.

Or was that Wake me up before you go go?

Car Crazy

Neither M. nor I make a ton of money. Nursing gives me a living wage, but it's not spectacular. M. works part time which is wonderful for our lifestyle and future family, but we've traded income for that. We live in Seattle, which is EXPENSIVE. And to top it all off, we exhausted what little savings we had when I went back to school, then on medical bills while TTC.

This leaves little reserves.

We have a paid for car. It's a crap-ass Dodge Neon that has been a somewhat loyal companion for the last 7.5 years. It's had it's moments. Except for having four doors, it is a TERRIBLE family car.

I think we could manage for a bit with the crap-ass Neon except...EXCEPT...we have our beautiful Zooper stroller that is SO FREAKIN' big that we can't fit it in the trunk.

We need a new car.

We could take on a car payment. I wouldn't stretch us too thin, but we need to prioritize that money for the baby and materinity leave. At the same time, I'm tired of the Neon. I want it to go away. It's SO tempting just to see if the budget could handle a car payment and DO IT.

The classic Catch-22 appears.

We're going to try to limp along with the Neon. And maybe the stroller will become a neighborhood stroller until we can get a different car. Or maybe we'll sell it and find a different stroller. Either way, it's making us crazy.

Curiouser and Curiouser

M. has declared she would like to foster a curious child. Because she, herself, is a curious type. I have warned her that this could backfire.

My brother was what you might call a curious child. He wondered about everything. How did this manifest? It manifested in the form of someone who asks questions constantly. And did we have the answers? Not really.

It wasn't just us he tortured with his curiosity. He drove his teachers batty with all his questions.

Step in creative intervention.

One of his teachers bought him a book. A really big book. It was called The Big Book of Questions. Then every time he had one of those god-awful questions, instead of my parents and his teachers wracking their brains and stopping what they were doing to answer him, they just said....

Look it up in the book.

And that is the sad consequence of a curious child. YOU will be the one they think will know everything.

Broccoli, the Unredeemable Vegetable

We had our first official appointment with Sally Midwife today. It was a freakin' 2.5 hour appointment. By the end of it I was about to collapse from exhaustion. I don't do so well on Fridays since they're always the day after I work two shifts.

There are a million, billion new rules that come with pregnancy. I swear we should all get a manual the moment we get our confirmation. Some nice grandma-like lady wearing a hand-knit cardigan should appear, gently tap us on the shoulder, hand us a huge book and tell us that EVERYTHING we need to know is there.

Better yet, just download into my brain. I'm overloaded as it is.

Instead you start on a journey of discovery, as in discovering all the things you CAN'T have. Today lunch meat was added to the list. And I happen to have some lovely sliced French ham in the 'fridge that M. will have to eat.

What has been added to the SHOULD have list? Broccoli. The world's most unredeemable vegetable (a somewhat insincere apology to all broccoli lovers out there). It's generally stinky, easily overcooked and requires a lot of butter, lemon or cheese to make it taste good. Unfortunately it seems to have all those lovely nutrients that I need: calcium, vitamin c, folic acid.

Blick.

What is good about Sally Midwife? Well, she said we can worry about 100% nutritional compliance later. Right now it's all about getting something in the pie hole.