There are many things I cherish in life: my baby bump, pizza, cupcakes, and the feeling of unbuttoned pants...to name a few. And no, they aren't always related.
I’m 4 months old – time is absolutely flying by! I’m having
so much fun and growing bigger and bigger by the day.
Stats: 13.10oz & 25 1/4 inches tall
Likes – I still love facing the world. As much as I love
meeting new people and getting hugs and kisses – just make sure that you do all
this fun stuff to me while I’m facing out, so I can still pay attention to
everything else going on in the room. I
like my new friends, my feet! I love to hold them, sometimes suck on them, and
use them to kick mom in the boobs! I love staring at you intensely as you talk
to me (What’s that? You’re usually talking to whoever is holding me, and not
actually speaking to me directly? Well that’s rude. But I will still watch
you.) I’ll even peek up at whoever is holding me time to time to get a good
glimpse of their face (When did you get here, mom? I’ve been sitting here
listening to Chatty Cathy for a good thirty minutes.) I still like following
Sophie around with my face & eyes. Tummy time is so much more enjoyable now
that I hold myself up high and can see out. I also love being held so that my
weight is on my feet and I get to pretend I can walk. Speaking of walking – I
love when mom wears me in the baby bjorn and strolls on the treadmill. It’s my
favorite!
Dislikes- Gas, even though my dad says one day I’ll like it
and it will make me laugh. I dislike
when I feel like I’m all alone in a room.
I still hate when someone is holding me while they sit down in a chair
or on the couch – get up and at ‘em please, I like to walk around.
This week has been a challenging one for me. Actually, it may have started two weeks ago... and its all just being mentally mushed into one long week. Call me silly, but I was finally getting to a place in my life where I thought I was done second-guessing myself. I spent the first 31 days of being a new mom glued to my computer screen or iphone, googling the shit out of any question I ever had. What was I doing wrong? What was I doing right? What could I do better? It got to the point where I would begin to type in my new-mom-question-of-the-day, and instead of the google filter giving me a few suggestions... it would just list out a dozen self-help books and recommended medications. I finally got over the google-factor, and just made decisions on my own. And it was working! Until...
My sweet sweet boy stopped sleeping through the night. He wakes up 3-5 times crying, fussing, hungry and just not a happy camper. So now I feel like I'm a contestant on "Who Wants to be a Millionaire" standing opposite Meredith Vierra, sweating my balls off because I don't know the answer to the $500 question! Even though in my version, there is no cash prize.
I'm using "phone a friend" and I'm "polling the audience" but I'm still not winning! What is wrong with my handsome boy? Is he hungry? Is my milk supply decreasing? If so, is it because I started a new diet which, to my body, feels more like a college eating disorder leading up to Spring Break, than an actual healthy diet? Is he teething? Do I feel canine teeth coming in first? Is that normal? Is my baby a vampire? If he is a vampire, did I have sex with Edward Cullen? (If the answer is yes, I'm OK with this). The list of questions goes on and on, as does the sleepless nights. For now, anyway. :)
I'm 3 months old today - time is flying by! Apparently I was too busy pooping & eating to blog about my two month old birthday... oopsie daisy!!
Me & me bestie, my mom!
Stats- these are estimated since I didn't have to see the mean man with the needles, who my parents call "Doctor" this month. Weight: 12+ lbs Height: 24+ inches
Likes: Facing out so I can view the world (and view the television.... I loooove TV already and mom thinks I actually understand it, so she turns my face when "bad guys" are on), shoving my hands in my mouth while talking, drooling all over my outfits, having people bicycle my legs, taking baths, having at least one blow out a day, talking to my mobile, and blowing lots of spit bubbles as I coo. Dislikes: When mommy eats dairy, being overstimulated (I think that means when I'm tired and people think its fun to keep shoving toys in my face like I can actually play with them), being scared, and being stuck in a car seat when I'm hungry!
Demeanor: I'm letting mom get a little bit more sleep these days- sometimes at night I will sleep 6 then 5 hours, and sometimes I will give her a special treat and sleep 9 hours straight. I only do this occasionally, because everybody needs beauty sleep... even moms. I never see daddy at night so he must be getting pretty beautiful these days. I think that "schedules" are for the birds and I still like to change things up during the day. I tend to take one good nap in my crib each day, the rest are spent in the living room, or if I'm lucky, I get an occasional snooze fest with mommy in bed. I'm a "big boy" now and sleep in my crib at night. Mommy misses me being so close to her, but it was time for me to venture out on my own. So, I packed up my bags and hit the road. I made it 50 feet, safe and sound. Yesterday I played Houdini and surprised them by waking up and wiggling around so that my feet were where my head was supposed to be, and my head was where my feet were supposed to be. I can roll over from my back to my side, and I'm pretty sure I can roll all the way over to my front... but I'm holding out for a little while longer. (Hold the presses - I rolled over once today!)
All in all, I'm a pretty super baby, and I can't believe I'm 3 months old!!
Hey, I know you!
Watching TV from bed...
Greyson- "Mom, did you see that?"
Mom - "Yea, Amber is a trainwreck, but so is Gary. At least Janelle isn't on this season!"
If you are expecting - expect to hear this line a lot: "Enjoy your time now because pretty soon everything will change! Honestly, just enjoy it!" I can not tell you how many times I had this wisdom thrust upon me from other people. And as I sat there 8 1/2 months pregnant... sweating, bloated, mentally and physically past the point of wanting to be pregnant a second longer, I laughed it off. Enjoy THIS??? My feet are too fat for my shoes, I get winded trying to get in my car and drive to work, and I'm in bed by 830pm because I just want to wake up at midnight and magically have my water break. What is there to enjoy?
I reflect back on this now and a light bulb goes off in my head. Ohhhh...I get it. Enjoy the silence. Enjoy the fact that you can go to bed at 830pm and sleep in until your body is ready to wake up. Enjoy the fact that you and your husband are sitting on the couch together, watching TV, and just being with each other. Enjoy the freedom of seeing a movie, going to dinner, going to the bathroom, taking a shower, brushing your teeth, reading a book, catching up on your DVR.
I have a handful of pregnant friends right now, and when they ask me for advice, I hear myself saying "Enjoy your time now because pretty soon everything will change. Honestly, just enjoy it!" and I find them staring back at me, with an expression I know all-too-well. Their eyes stare back to me, taunting me, internally screaming "She's got to be kidding me". And I'll reach over and pat their bellies, feeling tiny kicks that I already miss way too much. But soon enough, they'll understand. Except then, just like me, it will be too late. But, then again, they will have a tiny new baby to enjoy each and every day... and isn't that what we wanted to have and enjoy in the first place? So, I guess it all works out in the end. :) Because honestly, who really needs to brush their teeth or comb their hair each morning when they can wake up to a face like this? He doesn't judge me... and I bet your little one won't either. So, enjoy your time now if you can. And if you don't, that's OK too. But I bet you'll tell others the same piece of advice one day. Even though no one listens. :)
Wow, has life changed!! I haven't blogged in months.... (tsk tsk) but I'm going to try and get back at it. Since today is a special day (Greyson is officially one month old) I figured it'd be a great time to pick back up the pen and write...
This post is dedicated to my muffin mans one month stats, from his point of view!
Weight: 9.1 lbs Height: 21.5 inches
Likes: Being on anyones shoulder, being walked around the house, being swaddled warm & snuggly, anytime I can eat, eat, eat. Dislikes: My upset tummy, being sweaty, laying flat on my back, when people wake me up from my naps, and usually the hours between 7-9 pm.
Demeanor: Every day is a new day; I love to keep mom on her toes. Some days I love to eat and snooze, snooze and eat.... other days I like to mix things up a bit with fussiness and lots of cries. I love to hear my mommy's voice and I follow it around with my eyes and head, to make sure she isn't trying to hide from me or disappear. I love when daddy comes home from work and I hear a new voice in the house (although usually I'm asleep and I can hear my mommy whisper "SHHH DONT WAKE HIM!"). I haven't really noticed Sophie yet, but I'm sure I will soon. I'm trying to understand what to do with my hands, and whenever I can get them up to my mouth I will suck on them! If I'm napping and not swaddled, I will wake myself up with random arm waving and sometimes by whacking myself in my eye. I love staring at lights and ceiling fans, and occasionally surprising everyone with a smile here and there (most likely due to my insane gas). Speaking of gas, my belly hurts a lot, and I've heard mom say that her new part-time job is a laundry maid... thanks to my many blow outs! I don't think she minds though... she kisses me a lot and calls me the most handsome man in all the world.
It seems like only yesterday I was standing in my house, taking my last pregnancy photograph! I remember relaxing in the morning, going out to lunch with Cole and coming home for a quick early afternoon nap, and then before I knew it... I was at the hospital at 330pm!
Up to the maternity floor we go!
This day/night is so hard to explain. It was such a whirlwind of excitement, nerves, fear, happiness and love... and yet, I can remember every single detail that will be forever etched into my memory. It is honestly so true that a mother feels no love like the one she feels for her baby. And it is something that no one can explain to you, describe to you, or try to talk about - because it just IS.
At 11:55pm I was a pregnant woman in labor, expecting my first child to enter the world momentarily (sooner rather that later, I had hoped!)... and at 11:56pm, I heard his first cry, and had his warm body placed on my tummy. Not to take away from such a serene moment, but we didn't know the sex of our baby until this moment - and as soon as he was out, I swore I saw a giant pair of balls dangling in the air... and I was right. It was a sweet, sweet, boy (with giant balls). I remember I had opened up my mouth, while tears were streaming down my face in an overwhelming moment of love, and I gasped "I don't know what to do with your penis, I'm so sorry!" and I knew that, despite all of my previous fears of having a son, in this moment it became clear that I was meant to have a boy. I looked down at him, and everything in my body just felt so... right. I was meant to be his mommy, he was meant to be my son, and we would forever be a family.
Between those two moments - 11:55pm & 11:56pm, my life had changed, and changed for the better.
Greyson Gene Gendreau
Born April 4th, 2012 @ 11:56pm
7lbs 12oz & 20 inches
I like to g-chat. Some days are good days, some days are bad days. Based on the amount of Lindsay's laughter... I'd say today is a good day. That, or she just feels bad for me since I told her how much I'm sweating. Oh, and she's also on pain medication. So, your call.
sara: i have the sweats. how are you feeling. haha.
Lindsay: why??
sara: im just hot these days. i sleep in the nude, and when i get up to pee i look like i'm a woman straight out of amazon country.
Lindsay: i feel better when i take some pain meds, not 100% but better
sara: especially since i have to swing a few times to get out of bed
sometimes i wonder if cole realizes he really hit the jackpot with me
Lindsay: hahahaha
sara: hahaha stop laughing so much
Lindsay: you need to blog about this entire gchat
sara: hahahahah
it is a winner. i think i will do it right now.
Lindsay: you need to im dying here
Lindsay: hahaha
**Just a side note. I really do look like someone from the amazon when I get out of bed. I'm peeing about 5-7 times a night, and I'm definitely sleeping in the nude. So I have to rock back and forth to pick up some momentum before I thrust myself out of bed to tinkle. Some things are moving a little too much. And some other things are moving that shouldnt. Thank god the lights are always out.
I have played this clip 20 times and keep laughing uncontrollably. This could be for a few reasons:
1) I'm completely delusional
2) I'm already the worst mother in the world
3) Both 1 & 2
Let me explain. Yesterday we had our 31 week ultrasound to check on the little munchkin; I use the term "little" very loosely in its current context. Our baby currently weighs in at 4 lbs 9 oz. That seems incredibly large, considering we could have 8+ more weeks to go, and they normally double in size from now until birth. If my baby enters the world tipping the scale close to the 10lb mark, I can just imagine us now... we'll be like a mommy and baby sharpie, sitting on the couch waiting for daddy to come home and feed love us!
The baby was squished up against my side for the entire ultrasound, so this leads me to believe he/she will be a perfect snuggle bug. This is amazing - I will want a nice warm rolly-polly baby to cuddle up next to for the next few months... nothing makes me happier than the smell of a newborn baby, especially if they like to snuggle you and hold your hair or pinky finger all day. As funny as it is to think of having a super-size Gendreau enter our family... I'm so happy. I love chubby wubby babies more than anything in this world.
On top of already having chubby cheeks and triple chins, our baby also had a full head of hair. Therefore, I'm expecting the following to emerge in the next month or two. And honestly? I'll totally take it!!
Well, it'll either look like that, or like this this (and if Cole had his way, I'm really not sure which one would be his preference).
Honestly, I'm not sure what makes guys so "proud" of the fact that they are having a large child. "Look at my boy - 15 lbs!!! Can you believe it?? I can! I made that!" or "Look at my girl - 13 lbs! You bet I did that!" and all his buddies high five, chest bump, and congratulate him.
I'm sorry - last I checked, this baby is entering the world only one way - and its not via "daddy". So, if I happen to have an extra large baby, I'm 99% sure all my girlfriends will potentially look at me with a slight twinge of horror.
On a different note - the main reason we went in to get an ultrasound was not to watch our baby eat its own hand (which it did, by the way).... but it was to check up on the kidney situation. And guess what! Chubby babies = healthy babies! The kidneys are still a little large, but completely relative to the size of our munchkin. So, as of right now - any blockage or reflux has since been ruled out!! And now, mother and baby shall celebrate....
Nothing cures a bad day like a swift kicks to the ribs.
Let me explain...
Yesterday was one of those days where you sit at your desk, stare out the window, and wonder what the purpose is. I felt like I was being walked-over, disrespected, and left out (I know, pity party!). With each hour, the day just got worse and worse. By the time my day was over, I was just thrilled to run to the crowded grocery store to pick up ingredients to make my annual fudge I give out to my house-cleaner, puppy-sitter, and coworkers. 'Tis NOT the season in my corner of the woods on this manic Monday!
And then..... I got 3 swift kicks to the ribs.
"Excuse me!" I politely yelled at the tiny person taking up residence in my belly, and then I couldn't stop laughing. It seemed like a very important person was trying to remind me of a very important rule. Don't sweat the small stuff! And even though it doesn't always necessarily feel like small stuff... when you have a 2 pound person kicking and elbowing you in the ribs, it kind of all really is?
PS - I want to say that no animals were hurt in the making of this video, but after watching it a few times, I realized it was getting branded. So then I started to cry. But... it was the best video I could find. So I left it up. I'm sorry PEETA!!!
One of the best cards I ever saw, and still remember, said the following:
Don't Kiss Your Honey When Your Nose is Runny You May Think It's Funny But It Snot
Gets me every time!!!
I bring up this lovely poem because it coincides with my weekend. On Sunday, I went to watch a hockey game Cole was coaching, followed by the hockey team holiday dinner. The second I walked into the ice rink, I remembered why I hadn't been to a single game yet this season. My fingers and toes went numb and I could see my breath.... and I wasn't even IN the ice rink yet! I was standing by the window panes looking in. And that was as close to the ice as I was going to get for the next 2 hours. I pulled out my phone and attempted to send a few text messages out.... and I let my friends know that I am not cut out to be the hockey mom Cole really wants me to be. I couldn't feel my nose and I was pretty sure it was running down my face. Frozen snot is not quite the look I am striving for, for the next 18+ years. The mom haircut and mom jeans are pushing it as it is.
Look 1: Frozen Face Hockey Mom "Would you kids like some fresh orange slices and Gatorade?"
Look 2: I'm known to some as a MILF.
So Cole and I made a pact on the way to the holiday team dinner. Between hockey & choir, our children will have plenty of winning choices. And hopefully they follow in their mothers footsteps. Or at least pick a sport where I can cheer them on from a warm and cozy spot in the stands. But if Cole wins out, and we have a hockey son or hockey daughter, then even though I technically "lose" I will actually still "win"... I will just pour some Baileys in my coffee before every game and pee my pants to keep warm. Kind of like this yo-yo...
This entry is going to be short & sweet, because no news is good news! We went in for our followup ultrasound to check out the kidneys - and so far, they have remained the same (fluid is still being retained). However, the baby is growing (at a rapid pace, in my opinion!) but the kidneys haven't... so to me, this means no news is good news. We go back in next month. If the baby keeps growing and the kidneys stay the same... as long as things don't progress or get worse.... I am a very happy mom!! And I'm pretty sure that is the direction we are headed. Everyone needs a little Christmas miracle right?
11.11.11 had been circled on my calendar for a long time. Cole & I rushed off to our 830 am appointment, so excited to see our little munchkin. On the way, we got a phone call from the fetal center asking if we could bump our appointment back to 11am, since an ultrasound tech had called in with a family emergency. We were already pulling into the parking lot, and way too eager to see images of our baby... so we passed and kept our early morning appointment. We didn't have to wait too long until we were whisked away into our room.
The ultrasound tech was not a very happy camper... apparently our baby is a mover and a groover, and decided to put on a show instead of posing for pictures. The tech would jam me to the right, and jam me to the left, trying to get the baby to unwind out of a ball, and to stop swirling around.
Laying in a ball, legs up in the air, fists by the little face.
After a good 40 minutes, the ultra sound tech abruptly got up and said she'd return with a doctor. Left on a table covered in warm goo and rolled down pants, Cole and I got a little confused. We shrugged it off since this was our "big ultrasound meeting" and figured the doctor routinely visits and talks to parents-to-be, and then helps us find a good picture of the wiggle worms precious little face.
The doctor walked in, introduced herself, and said she was going to walk us through the anatomy of our baby and discuss something that came up on the ultrasound. It was at this point during our appointment that I knew our tiny munchkin wasn't going to get the "perfect" ultrasound that I had planned on. She got the baby in a position to view his/her bladder & kidneys. We were explained that in normal ultrasounds - the kidneys should come up as almost tiny slits, nothing too large on the ultrasound screen. The bladder should be the most visible organ. Here is our baby's bladder & kidneys (I think!! They really should label these photos for you after you leave, because I can't really tell what anything is besides arms & feet, and of course the face!)
So, the bladder and the kidneys are basically the same size. The reason the kidneys are enlarged is because the baby isn't able to really urinate. The medical term is HYDRONEPHROSIS - and it can be caused by reflux or a blockage. The doctor mainly ruled out reflux, and explained that the majority of the urine is being trapped in due to a blockage of some sort. The best way she explained it was to imagine the baby trying to urinate, and having a thin layer of tissue that causes majority of the urine to bounce back, which in turn puts stress on a kidney(s) (in our case, both kidneys). That is honestly the most information I can really say at this point. We have a meeting with our regular ob-gyn this week, and a Urologist at Phoenix Children's Hospital next week. I think I'll be able to understand more at that point. All I know right now is that I meet with a specialist, and go in for routine ultrasounds every 3 weeks to determine the kidneys and bladders progression. We were also told that this is a marker for down syndrome. I spent all weekend tossing and turning, crying and worrying, wondering what I could do to make this all better for my baby. Ultimately, we were told best-case and worst-case scenarios on Friday: this ranges from a baby being surgically delivered early and being monitored in ICU with surgery; to going full term and being able to delivery naturally- meanwhile being monitored and possibly surgery post-delivery. We have always wanted to keep the sex a surprise until birth- but there is a good possibility this will no longer be the case, since the urologist will need to talk to us about the diagnosis/surgery options... pending the babies little parts. So until I know more information, I'm just going to keep rubbing my belly and telling this tiny nugget that he/she really needs to work around that blockage and go pee! And more importantly, no matter what we have to go through, no matter when and how I have to deliver this baby, if I get to take them home or have to hold their hand in the hospital, it doesn't matter. This baby is still perfect, and perfect to us.
I realized I'm a few weeks late in posting some entries! Last week I just forgot to publish one, so thank you pregnancy brain for that oopsie poopsie. I'm remembering to do one right now, mainly because I just got back from a doctors appointment. The heart is beating away.... about 147 today. I've gained about 3 1/2 pounds. That blows my mind, because I'm literally walking around in jeans that are unbuttoned & unzipped... even when I had hungover "puffy" days, I could always zip up my pants. I would have assumed I was more along the lines of the freshmen 15 status. And if I had had any doubts, today my doctor so politely asked me if I'd ever seen numbers like this on the scale. He then told me, "We're going to blow these numbers out of the water soon enough." I then began to hear my jeans silently rip past the zipper line, and spread to the inner thigh.
You know those days when you wake up and just feel extremely fortunate? That's how I've felt the last week or so. My life seems to be so... on track, even though I don't necessarily agree with the term "on track" because life always throws you curve balls, and whose track are you really following anyway? My mind bounces from here-to-there so often, I barely even leave a trail of dust in my path. (These days, there is a chance its more of a trail of crop dust.... pardon this lovely pregnancy side affect, SO sorry to those of you that are reading this and judging me. Just be glad you don't share an office with me). I've got to Skype with my younger sister and spend time with my family that lives in AZ; I flew to Denver to visit my best friend who gave birth just 2 months ago to her first baby; the director and our video team at work got nominated and WON an Emmy, and I'm headed to New Orleans this weekend to celebrate my 1 year anniversary. It feels like a lot of my choices in life are just.... working out?
Speaking of choices (I bet you were afraid I was going to say "Speaking of working out" but don't you worry, I would never do that to you).... I logged into Facebook today (and by logging in, I mean I clicked on one of my windows that has Facebook already open, 24/7 on my computer) and the following poll was located on my right-hand side nav:
"Sara, Which Do You Like Better?"
-Peter Piper Pizza
-JPs Doghouse
Has Facebook been STALKING ME? I don't use the "check-in" feature... most likely because I have a lame blackberry and not a "cool" iphone. I don't have a little Siri to talk to me. So how in the world does Facebook know that my two favorite foods (besides spaghetti, and all baked goods) are PIZZA (specifically PPP) and HOTDOGS! And I love JP's. So much in fact, I have a separate hot dog blog, and 3 of the posts are about JP himself!! I honestly couldn't choose between the two, so I quickly logged out so Facebook could stop looking into my hungry soul. Tonight I'm going to have a nightmare, full of pizza and hot dogs taunting me, screaming "pick me pick me"... totally cruel. I will never ask my child to make such a decision as hard as the one Facebook proposed to me today. Whatever choices they make in life, I will try to fully support. Unless, of course, they choose to dislike Peter Piper Pizza, JPs Doghouse, Spaghetti, and baked goods. Then we have a whole other problem on our hands.
I'd like to preface this entry by stating I've worked two 12 hour days back-to-back, along with attending an Incubus concert - to only come home at midnight and work some more. I'm stating this for two obvious reasons: one, so you're aware if this blog post sounds fuzzy or jumps around, you know why... and two, to once again prove my theory that pregnant women can definitely still rock. <3
While attending the Incubus concert, I was full of nostalgia. Dating back to high school and then moving through college, it was like a flash back & flash forward of my "previous life" merging with the current. And then I started wondering... oh dear god, if I have a daughter... will she be just like me? And if I have son, will he be the kind of gentleman I hope to raise? I think this chain reaction of thoughts began because I laid eyes on this...
Mmmhmm. Every girl loves a rocker. Or a bad boy. Or just a super sexy man without his shirt on. So then I mentally started to draft a "Things You Probably Should/Shouldn't Do" to my unborn child.
Dear Daughter...
1) Please be careful with boys. Talking to them, spending time with them, or even riding in the car with them.
Unless they have a Facebook page dedicated to their driving capabilities, and in that case, I really have nothing more to say on the matter.
And just like that, I stopped drafting this letter in my head. Because I realized everything I wanted to tell her she shouldn't do, I've probably done. So maybe I want to have a boy after all?
If you know me at all or have read my "about me" section, you're most likely already aware that, even before pregnancy... I was a homebody (and that's putting it mildly). Rewind about 7 years and I was be-bopping around my college campus Sunday through Sunday, filling my afternoons with a little Lifetime Movie Special and naps - just enough downtime to enable me to get up and do it again the next night. Current time: I have kept the routine of Lifetime movies & naps, but pretty much have skipped over and forgotten about the gallivanting I used to be so good at. It seems like there is always something "I have to do" the next morning, or how "busy my day was at work and how all I want is to go home, eat dinner, and go to bed".... cue sad music here! But in all honesty, I like the way my week and weekends go. I love going to dinner, and I love being home before my bedtime. I love walking my dog in the morning, and running errands when the stores open at 9 or 10 in the morning. So I'm not really complaining... I suppose it's just preparing me for the future. In 6 months I will be staring down at a beautiful new human-being, that will consume every second of my life from here until eternity. I think about this... and then I start to shake. Oh my god... should I have gone out more? Should I have been one of those people that raged on weekdays, and went to work in the morning with a double espresso and worked through their day with one eye open? Should I have gone out more on the weekend, and stayed up to watch the sunset..... in my late 20's? Should I have lived more and slept less, isn't that what people say?
On Monday, I had to travel for work and stay overnight before a video shoot the following morning. My office roommate and I hopped in my car and hit the road after work. We spent the 2 1/2 hour drive talking about our plans to order room service, get in our jammies, watch TV... and fall asleep by 9pm (apparently I'm not the only one with this schedule). Well, there was a change of plans, and once we arrived, we met the video team out for dinner to celebrate a birthday. Two hours later, I looked down at my watch and realized it was past my bedtime. I started to sweat! I must get home I thought!... I reminded myself of a senior citizen that realized 4pm was upon him, and it was imperative he get to the closest restaurant before the early-bird special ends. Or maybe I was acting more like a modern day pre-teen Cinderella. I felt like my car was going to turn into a pumpkin, and my jeans and tshirt were going to disappear and turn into old tattered pajamas if I let another minute pass. Before I knew it, I was leaving the restaurant and driving... to... a karaoke bar? Wait... What? This isn't my hotel!? How did I drive myself to a karaoke bar at 9pm on a MONDAY? Am I going crazy? These pregnancy hormones are leaving me so confused. But guess what? I spent the next 3 hours having the time.of.my.life.
Within ten minutes of entering the karaoke bar, I ordered an ice water and hopped up on stage. I grabbed a mic, told the DJ to "hit it" and SHOOP by salt n peppa came on. I have never once sang karaoke. I might have been an active little Gleek in high school with Varsity Choir, Honor Choir, Womens Choir, and Jazz Choir all on my resume... but this was so out of my element. And, I kind of looked like this....
Granted, Ellen is a beautiful blonde lesbian, and I am a 27 year old pregnant brunette, wearing jeans and a belly bandit to camouflage the fact that my pants were unbuttoned and most likely unzipped while I was rapping across the karaoke stage. So the resemble is a little off, but still. After my white girl rendition came to a close, I hopped off stage, took a shot of my ice water, and hit the dance floor (party of one.. literally.) I suppose my resemblance of the evening was a little less Ellen and a little more like.... this gem below?
The morale of the story is that you (or I) can still have fun. Single, married, pregnant, or I'm assuming, as a mother. I think Monday night was exactly what I needed... a little "pick-me-up, while my pants were falling off", so to speak. I caught a glimpse of myself in the bathroom mirror before I went to bed, and as I wiped the remnants of my Karaoke induced sweat from my forehead, I thought... "pregnancy glow, is that you?" And I went to bed happier than I have in a long time.
So last week, I sent a few people the following text message...
"I just walked out of work, and a guy on a bike turned around to check me out. Even with a baby in my belly, and my pants unbuttoned, I still got it... ha".
About 10 minutes later, I sent a follow up text message... "Do you think he'd still check me out if he knew I just bought this... for myself?" with the attached picture.
It's my favorite clip from any movie (well, except Anchorman... I have too many favorite moments in that movie to count), and I feel like it totally represents how I feel today. I've got a pocket full of sunshine & a baby in my belly - and I sing it in the shower, in the car, and behind my desk at work!
Today we went to the doctor and heard a heartbeat, it was amazing! Today is also the day we are announcing to everyone we are expecting.... so this blog entry is short & sweet! :)
I went to visit Amy, my youngest sister, in her new "home" city, Sacramento. Kate (middle sister) & I got to spend 4 days gallivanting around "Old Sac" "East Sac" "Mid Sac" and any other types of Sac's we could think of.
My beautiful sissys!
Ricks Hot Fudge Sundae
If you really want to know what we did - these words came out of Amy's good friends mouth on Sunday afternoon, as we were about to leave for the airport. "All you guys did was eat this weekend!" <-- Sad, but true. We spent the entire 4 days visiting all of Amy's favorite restaurants. In between those favorite restaurants, we stopped by places such as Candy Heaven & Ricks Desert Bar.
Who knew 3 girls could spend this much on a lunch?
And after lunch, at the airport... snacks.
One night we all went to dinner, went to a friends rooftop preparty, and then the girls went out for drinks. I departed the rooftop preparty around 10 and headed for home. I sat there from 10pm until 130am when they finally got home, tossing and turning. Being the oldest, I feel like you already have some sort of "motherly" craziness. Where are they? Are they safe? When are they coming home? I cant sleep with all those thoughts! This could also be due to the fact that I already was on the end of one not-so-fun phone call in the middle of the night regarding my baby sister!
Phone Call: After graduating college, I moved back home with my parents. A while after I had fallen asleep, my phone started ringing with "AMY" on display. I picked it up, figuring I was getting a fun-filled drunk dial. Instead, it was Amy's sorority sister who said "Hey Sara. Ummm Amys head was just cracked open, but the ambulance is on the way." Not exactly the phone call I had imagined. So then I had to get out of bed and wake up my roommate mom and fill her in on the news (my dad was out of town for business). So all of a sudden I became the bearer of bad news. Everything turned out fine, she got a few stitches and that was that, but still. "Cracked her head open" isn't exactly a phrase I'd like to hear again on the receiving end of a phone call.
All this tossing and turning got me thinking, and I thought of my dear friend (ok, facebook friend) Rosie Pope. I love her show "Pregnant in Heels"... and although some of it is completely offbase and unrealistic, I realized how much easier your pregnancy could be if you had a magic maternity coordinator. Kind of like a fairy godmother, someone to answer all your silly (or not so silly) questions on pregnancy, labor and bringing home your baby! When do you order nursery furniture? When do you tell everyone you are expecting? When am I going to get fat? Since I'm short on the fairy godmother deal, I did the next best thing. My girlfriend Natalie had sent me a surprise package with Jenny McCarthy s "Belly Laughs" book. I picked it up, and read it in one sitting. She pretty much nails everything dead on with the way you are feeling, why strange things are happening to you, and what to expect. So, thanks to Jenny, I'm feeling a little better.
Until next week, when I make the official announcement, and then weird people may start to think its OK to touch my belly.
Oh, and I thought I'd let you know that I listened to my mother (shouldn't you always?). From last weeks entry - I put a rubber band around my button and I'm feeling so much better about myself. It almost makes me forget I'm walking around with unbuttoned pants.
Almost.
My makeshift button-closer with a hairband... apparently I can't find any rubber bands.
Let's be honest. I've been unbuttoning my pants for years, for comfort reasons only. Today was the first day I unbuttoned my pants out of necessity. It wasn't even an option. They... simply.... won't.... button.
My youngest sister said its time for maternity pants. Um... no: it's certainly not time for maternity pants. I am only 10 weeks!! My mom said I should just tie my button to the button hole with string. Again, I'm going to pass. I'm going to continue walking around at work with my pants unbuttoned, and my baggy shirt thrown over it. I've told a few girlfriends at my office, so for fun, I'll flash them my unbuttoned pants, laugh, and run away. But honestly, the jokes on me.
So, I'm sitting at my desk, eating a triple chocolate chip cookie my office roomie got me... all the while staring at my unbuttoned pants, and listening to amazing yet depressing music like the example below. Only 2 more weeks of hiding this, and then I can flash EVERYONE my unbuttoned pants!! And I'm not even ashamed. My husband on the other hand, might be.
Today was our first prenatal visit. Our doctor is absolutely perfect for us: he's sarcastic, has a lot of dry humor, and asked Cole if people from North Dakota have any teeth. My kind of doctor. :) Definitely the type I feel most comfortable around - it's nice to know that we can crack jokes while he's all up in my girlie parts, although that might make his job a little more difficult considering I love to laugh.
Seeing a baby on the ultrasound screen for the first time is... amazing, and still unreal. We could see the tiny heartbeat pitter-patter within the babies chest. The doctor said the baby looks perfect, and estimated her age is a little over 8 weeks. I think the ultrasound says 8 weeks & 2 days. "Crown to Rump" or the CRL is 17!
Cole made sure to exclaim "It's a boy!" - which is what I'm going to be hearing until our due date. I asked him why he's so sure its a boy, to which he answered matter-of-factly "Look at those big forearms!" and shook his head at me like I should have been seeing this as well. "It's a girl!" I said back. "Look at that pink tutu & her tiny dancer body." Apparently, we aren't seeing eye to eye. :) But the important part is that we ARE seeing and DID see a beautiful baby on the ultrasound... living inside my belly, until about April 8th or so. :)
