Holy Halfway Mark, Batman!

Ummm...apparently, week 19 means that we're half way to the finish line. Excuse me for a moment while that sinks in. Half. Way. There. Ohmygawd!

I guess on some level I knew that but I've been so busy focusing on work and how to hide the burgeoning belly that I didn't have the time to actually think about it, you know?

In 19 more weeks (or so) I'll no longer just be me: wife, sister, daughter and friend.
I'll be me: wife, sister, daughter, friend AND sleep deprived, shell-shocked mother trying to remember lessons learned a billion years ago in baby-sitting school so my child doesn't end up with her diaper drooping around her ankles or her onsie on backwards (horrors!).

Inevitably, this kind of landmark makes me wonder "Am I ready for this? Am I ready to be responsible for a little person who can't even wipe their own nose, let alone tell me what the hell it is that they want or need? Is Scott ready for this?"

I guess in the end we're probably as ready as anyone ever is...which is to say, not at all.

Realizing how soon we're going to be parents also got me thinking about all those people out there, especially the so called "supermoms", who go into this parenthood thing thinking they've got a handle on everything. They've read all the books, they've obsessively surfed the internet, and they've watched endless TLC shows about childbirth and parenting so they think they know E.V.E.R.Y.T.H.I.N.G. and they just can't wait to tell you all about it. Gah!

I think it is pretty safe to say that because every person is different and every child is different, there is no way anyone can go into this their 1st time or their 14th and be anything but some degree of clueless and somehow, that makes me feel better.

So here is what Baby Center had to say about week 19 and this week's 3d pic and update are here.

10 little fingers and 10 little toes...

So here's some pics of our little Ladybug. Isn't she just the cutest kid ever? (and - of course - I'm completely objective)

I can't even describe how I felt watching her on the ultrasound screen today. I know I got to see her only a couple of weeks ago but this is just one of those things than never gets old, like winning the lotto or waking up every morning to realize you're married to a supermodel.

Today she drove our ultrasound tech nuts because every time she needed to get a couple of pictures of anything, Bug would sit still for the first 2 and then spazz out before rolling away and ruining the 3rd shot. I felt bad but I still found it pretty hilarious.

Happily, we managed to get all her pictures and measurements because quite honestly, I don't think my bladder could take another ordeal like that. I mean, who the hell decided to try taking internal pictures after forcing their subject to drink unnatural amounts of water while prohibiting bathroom breaks for hours on end only to finish with a prolonged steady poke in the gut? There's just nothing fun about that, you know?

I survived the pre-ultrasound swishfest and I'm glad I did. The second shot is of Bug sucking her thumb. We actually got to watch her stick her thumb in her mouth...which made me cry for some reason. (although that isn't exactly hard these days) Then I found myself unreasonably proud, as though a baby sucking her thumb in utero is a rare thing. (Don't bother Googling it. It isn't rare...I already checked. sigh)

Aaaand the verdict is....

WE'RE HAVING A LADYBUG!

Scott, Heather and Patricia were all right while the rest of us must now hang our heads in shame.

I'm so excited. I've got a clean bill of health and so does Ladybug so it looks like we're good to go.

Shoe Alert!

H&M has announced that Jimmy Choo will be collaborating with them on a shoe and handbag line due out in November. However, they will only be sold in a limited number of stores. GASP!

I fully expect that IF Vancouver is one of the lucky cities to get this line, the excitement will cause me to give birth to Bug while standing in the check out line. I honestly won't know whether to cut the cord or pull out my Visa...maybe cut the cord with the Visa to save time and maintain my place in line? Hmmm...

Disclaimer: yes, I know the red ruffle pumps above are Christian Louboutins but they are too damn cute not to include and isn't the Jimmy Choo above just sex on a stick? ME-OW!

18 weeks!

Here's the Baby Center take on what's going on with Bug this week and the 3D pic and blog can be found here. The Visible Embryo is talking about any number of things happening this week, including the formation of brown fat (who knew fat came in different colours?) along with some other stuff going on that I don't dare try to spell.

This week is a busy one for Bug and for me. Bug is busy getting bigger and developing in all sorts of new and exciting ways and apparently I'm just busy getting bigger. I got up this morning and nearly fell over when I looked at my profile. Holy effing crap! I am absolutely convinced my belly grew overnight. Since I can't yet wear most of my maternity tops without letting the cat out of the bag and my regular shirts are now umm...tight (to say the least in some cases) across the stomach and boobs, dressing for work posed a real dilemma this morning. Thank the gods that it is cool outside so I have an excuse to wear a hoodie 'cause otherwise I'd be screwed with a capital screw.

My dreams last night were stranger than usual. I would be dreaming about something completely random and suddenly it would include the sensation that Bug was kicking. It was weird the first time but in every single dream? I thought that was noteworthy. Personally, I think Bug was up all night practicing Muay Thai and it somehow ended up being incorporated into my dreams. If this keeps up, we may have to consider naming Bug Neo or Trinity (depending on the outcome of the pink or blue test) because this kid is coming out kicking first and asking questions later. Yes, I know Chuck Norris is better known for the kicking thing but I absolutely REFUSE to name any child of mine "CHUCK" That's just begging to be turned into "upchuck" on the playground. Blech!

Scott told his dad yesterday that we had gone out to buy me some "fat clothes."
Good thing for him I didn't have a gun 'cause he would have been dead before he finished that sentence. He was joking, of course, which is why he's still alive...well that and there is apparently a pesky waiting period to buy a gun these days and I just hadn't planned far enough ahead.

This week's grocery list:

toothpaste
milk
lightweight .38 Special 2-inch revolver with snag-free configuration
bread
pickles

Blue seems to be pulling ahead

So I've been getting emails and phone calls with people's opinions about whether Bug is a boy or a girl. All this info is a little hard to keep track of when you've got pregnancy brain so, before I forget and begin dreaming of my next meal, here's the way things are tracking so far:

Me: Boy
Scott: Girl
Dr. Smith: his latest guess was Boy
Charlie: Boy

Heather: Girl (she's guessing girl because she knows I would like to start with a girl)
Liz: Boy
Jim: Girl (but Scott says he really thinks I'm having a boy, he just doesn't want to agree with Liz haha)
Mom: Boy
Cullen: Boy (based on a theory that gender is generationally determined. Since mom had mostly girls, I'm going to have a boy...)

As you can see, the overwhelming majority think I'm having a boy. Quite frankly, I almost don't even care anymore. I just want to know one way or the other and the wait is driving me absofricking crazy. One more week(ish) until we know.

I am TRYING to be patient but since that's like asking a man what he's thinking and actually getting an honest answer (aka: impossible) it is starting to get a bit tense at home...and at work...and especially on the skytrain. I mean, I know I'm bigger than usual but does everybody have to bash into my chest and stomach all the time? I'm not that bloody big, people! I haven't even popped yet. I'm actually looking forward to getting on the skytrain after I pop so when some idiot smashes into my stomach other people will look at them like they are Jack the Ripper.

Then maybe someone will actually give up their seat for me. Yeah, you're right...that's just asking too much, isn't it?

17 Weeks

Hey everyone. 17 weeks along and it truly is getting harder and harder to hide my pregnancy. So far no one has actually looked at the stomach and guessed but three people have mentioned the increased boobage as a dead giveaway.

I feel like the Hindenburg right now but Scott insists that it is all in my head. He does, however, admit that I'm showing now (if he didn't I would seriously consider dropping him off at a drug rehab clinic because he'd HAVE to be on crack not to notice). Showing but not popping...and he says it is "cute." (GAG) My sister Heather has asked for pictures showing the expanding belly but I'm not sure how "cute" I'll think it is so I may or may not post them on this blog. In the meantime, I'm left wondering, "How the hell am I going to hide this for 3 more weeks?"

Anyhoo...(a Sarah Palinism: my way of trying to sound ABSOLUTELY MORONIC) I've hit 17 weeks and Bug has started making his or her presence known with teensy tiny little kicks I can only recognize because I've been pregnant before. It is really cool although any time Bugaloo doesn't manage to kick hard enough for me to feel it for 12 hours or so I FREEEEEEEAK out.

Here's the Baby Center update for week 17 and the 3D rotatable pic and blurb are here.

So the pink or blue debate is apparently going nowhere...as of today, no one has posted a comment indicating what they think I'm having. Come on, people! I know this hardly ranks up there on the scale of importance with your daily meditations on "How do I contribute to world peace," but humor the pregnant lady...she's desperate for ways to pass the time until she finds out for sure whether she's having a boy or a girl.

Pink or Blue?

Saw Bug on Monday and I still have no idea whether we're having a boy or a girl. (dramatic sigh)

I hate how the tech focused on all these things that meant absolutely nothing to me at that particular moment (although I'm sure they are BIG PICTURE important) when all I really want to do is count fingers and toes and see if my kid is going to be shopping for underwear at Victoria's Secret or Mark's Work Wearhouse.

So what did I learn? Bug has 2 arms and 2 legs (always a good start) and he or she looks well proportioned and seems very active. Also, my child is stubborn and won't pose nicely for the camera so I walked away with one fuzzy little picture instead of a ream of pics that would make you all ooh and ahh over how incredibly cute my progeny is. Already, my child is rebelling...

I'm planning on having a chat with my belly before my next ultrasound on the 26th so expect to be blown away by the modelesque stylings of BUG!

On Monday, Bug's heartbeat was 148 bpm but today it was 137 (or 143...I know they don't even sound similar but I have pregnancy brain, for God's sake, I'm lucky I remember my own name these days, let alone numbers that distract me from the cute little lublublub of my baby's heart). I'm apparently not quite as far along as we thought (or Bug is a bit small) but the difference is only 2 days so I'm not crying in my Vitamin Water.

So what do you all think I'm going to have? Boy or girl? So far the tally looks like this:

Me: Boy but I had a rather vivid girl dream the other night so I'll keep you posted
Scott: Girl
Dr. Smith: Last appointment: Girl This appointment: Boy. (He's only offered opinions based on the baby's heartbeat...always followed by a disclaimer that this kind of thing is total crap) He has a 100% chance now of being right but I consider this a cheat.
Charlie (Scott's dad): Boy (what this is based on, I'll never know because he decided this before I even got pregnant)
You: ??

Don't worry about being accurate - there is no prize for guessing right and no punishment for being a complete doofus and guessing wrong...

Droopy Drawers Diana Hits 16 Weeks!

Apparently, Droopy Drawers Diana is a much better name for what I look like during this in-between stage than Saggyass McPreggerton (thanks Heather!).

So here we are -16 weeks into it...4 months into it...a few pounds into it. It is so weird because I sometimes look at my stomach and think I should be weighing so much more than I am but that's the magic of pregnancy. Baby, bloat and amniotic fluid take up lots of space but don't weigh as much as you might think.

The Baby Center update is here...have you noticed how so far they've almost always compared a child's size to produce? Strangely, I've never read, "so this week your child is the size of a Swingline stapler" or "this week you baby has graduated to the size of a roll of hockey tape!" (ooh aah) Guess they know a pregnant woman's mind is almost always on her next few meals so the fruit and veggie analogies are more likely to receive a positive response...I know I'm all about the food these days. Wonder why they haven't used a Mars Bar or a Vachon Caramel cake as a reference size yet though...THAT would certainly get my attention.

Note to self: start new internet site for pregnant women with junk food references liberally sprinkled throughout. Buy stocks in Nestle, Cadbury, Mars, Lays, Coca-Cola and Vachon. Sit back. Watch the chaos. Get obscenely rich.

Here's the 3D pic and blurb for this week and the Visible Embryo is yakking on about Bug's fingerprints this week.

Besides spending an inordinate amount of time trying to find something in my closet that hides my expanding waistline, I haven't really been up to a whole helluva lot that is blogworthy this week...you know, besides plotting my new evil junk food empire preying on the pregnant women of the world. Bwahahahahaha

Thank the Gods of Technology for Air Con!

Well for any of you not living in the 'Couver, here's a news flash...it has been hot here for the last few days. Hot with a capital "H".
H. A. W. T.

You know:
the kind that melts your ice cream before you actually have a chance to sit down and eat it.
the kind that makes you sweat just thinking about it.
and apparently, the kind that makes me cry at 3 AM. (I'm blaming that one on the hormones, folks)

Anyone who knows me knows that I love summer and I have a ridiculously high heat tolerance, but all that seems to have gone out the window with this pregnancy. I honestly thought I would be immune to the misery I've always heard goes hand in hand with summertime pregnancy...after all, I wandered around Kuwait in jeans and a long sleeve blouse in 45 degree Celsius weather without breaking a sweat! Imagine my surprise the other night when I found myself sitting up with tears streaming down my face while contemplating breaking into the local supermarket to sleep in their freezer aisle. Imagine their surprise in the morning when they find a pregnant woman sound asleep on their floor cuddling a stack of frozen pizzas...

Let's just say my place was so hot I was thinking that scenario was almost worth the inevitable stint in the psych ward. At least they'd have air conditioning...

Well, we hit a crisis point Tuesday night. We came home from work, opened the door and I swear you could see the heat rising off our floor. It was like we were walking in the African savanna at high noon and by the time we stumbled upstairs to bed it wasn't much better despite the cross breeze and our fan chugging away.

So last night we went out and bought a portable air conditioner for a price so ridiculous I don't even want to mention it ($615 incl taxes!!!). I nearly cried because I have so many better things to spend that money on (like underwear my ass won't eat in a couple of months or a bra that minimizes 'the girls' so men will remember I have a face again).

At first, I wasn't exactly impressed with the results but when I got up in the middle of the night and wandered out into the hallway, I nearly fell over. I had never walked into a wall of heat like that before but the temperature difference was astronomical. When I crawled back into bed I realized it was just cool enough in our bedroom that I could finally get some sleep.
As far as I'm concerned now, that ridiculous sum was money well spent.

a word from Saggyass McPreggerton

Ok. Remember those fabulous jeans I was raving about the other day? Well, today they are too big...and they keep falling down. No, not in a marginally funny "America's Funniest Home Video pants-dropping-down-to-my-ankles-in-a-crowded-room" kind of way but in a "hi, I'm in that purgatory called pregnant-but-not-pregnant-enough-for-maternity-clothes" kind of way.

*sob*

I'm actually smaller today than I was over the weekend (bye bye bloatie)...which would be fine...if I wasn't in love with my new jeans and I hadn't worn them to work.

Right now I'm hiding in my office hoping my coworkers aren't taking up a collection to buy me a belt.

I know these suckers will fit me soon enough but I'm having problems figuring out what the hell I'm going to wear in the meantime. Guess I'll just have to get used to looking like Saggyass McPreggerton...or should I call myself Phatty O'Pantserdragon?