The Waaaaiiiting is the Hardest Part...

Wow, there really is a Tom Petty song for pretty much everything, huh? Even down to dancing with corpses, or stalking your ex, or jumping off balconies. Or waiting to give birth, as the case may be.

Here we are, 9 days from that oh-so-looked-forward-to and yet largely arbitrary day known as the "estimated due date". I had a doc appointment yesterday afternoon. I'm ever so slightly effaced, but still closed for bidness. (Sorry, if you didn't want to know this stuff, don't read my blog, k? And really, after all the talking I've done about my dogs' various orifices and the ointments I've had to spread on them, are you really grossed out by a lil' ole cervix? I thought not.)

I actually got a bit teary-eyed on the drive home- I'm just so so SOOOO tired and ready for labour to begin. Also, I am a planner. I like to know when stuff is going to happen well in advance so I can gather my emotional and physical resources to deal with them- It's just how I be. So having one of the single most pivotal days of my life left to the four winds is a bit hard for me. Luckily I married St. Gavin of Prenatal Consolation, who plied me with cake and kind words and a nap in the air-conditioning.

Last week I went to Caioti Pizza in Studio City and had "The Salad". It is rumoured to bring about labour within 2 days- while I believe in such crap not at all, it sounded like a fun way to spend a Friday evening with hubbster. It was basically a nice romaine salad with a really good balsamic-ish dressing and some walnuts, and I got to put an entry into the running journal they keep of all the mom's-to-be who are coughing up 8+ bucks to try and kick their babies out. While I was eating it, another preggo came in with her husband. We four shared knowing looks, and then, in that shy yet inevitable way the expecting commiserate, asked each other what I think of as the "Pregnancy Trinity" of questions (when are you due, what are you having, how are you feeling). It's nice to know other mommas are sick of being pregnant- makes me feel like less of an evil harpy for wanting Ms. Gwen to vacate so badly.

So, we wait. I have another appointment on June 1st (Monday) and my doc wants to talk about my "options" should we elect to induce. I dunno...as eager as I am, I am not really on board with using a chemical to trick my body into doing something it should do on its own (though really, isn't that what medicine is?). I just know there is a higher incidence of C-section with induction, and I'm not down with that. I am also not down with pushing out a 9.5lb baby either, however, so I'm keeping my options VERY open. I'm praying this is all moot and Ms. Gwen wakes me sometime this week in the wee small hours on a mission to join us here on dry land...I'll keep you posted...


Fort Knox. That is me.

We had our "how big this baby gonna be?" ultrasound yesterday. It was both an amazing and bizarre exam- she is now so big that you can't get one shot of the whole her- it's all feets and Aliens-type spine and, get this, OPEN eyes, looking at you, blinking. I vacillated between wonder and feeling just a smidge creeped out. I mean, there is a creature with its EYES OPEN in my belly, looking at my innards, even now. Holy crap. But then she rubbed her little face with her hands and pursed her lips at us like she was blowing kisses. And my husband and I became even more twitter-pated with our soon-to-be Gwendy-girl (BTW, she's still emphatically female, thank God. I already washed all her pinky clothes so I can't return them!).

She is, to the shock of exactly no one, a loooong baby, with long limbs and feets and arms. She is weighing in at an estimated 7lbs, 2oz, which is at about the 65th percentile for size. So she's a bit big, but not so much that we need artificial intervention. This is kind of a relief, for as much as I gripe about my various aches and pains, I really would like to let nature do its thing and have her come when she's good and ready. I would not, however, like to follow in my mom's foot steps and go two weeks late and have a child who is 10lbs, 7oz (Hi, Joey!). No siree bob. So if that bridge needs crossing, I'll cross it, later on.

And then, the not fun part. First, more protein in my pee-pee. That's five weeks now. So now I get to have the dignified and amazing privilege "collecting" my urine for 24 hours in this :

Like, seriously, could we have chosen an uglier color? Maybe a brownish-yellow? Cool. I have to tote this thing to the bathroom at work all day today, so's we can check the protein of a whole day's sample. And they recommend I refrigerate it. Where, next to my coworkers' Yoplait Lite and string-cheese? When I turn it in for analysis, I also get blood work, so we can truly rule out preeclampsia. If they don't rule it out, I get induced next week, for sure. But no one really thinks I have preeclampsia, it's more of a cautionary/let's-shame-Nicole-for-fun thing I think. My blood pressure is splendid and I haven't been gaining crazy weight/retaining water.

Also, I am closed. And not effaced, at all. Head is not even a little "engaged" (does anyone else picture Jean Luc Picard telling the baby to "Engage!" there? I do). So pretty much, Gwen is busy picking out new wallpaper and curtains for my uterus and has no plans on moving out any time soon. Rats. I was secretly harboring visions of my doc going "Heavens! You are already 9 1/2 cms dilated! Let's just go across the street to maternity and deliver you now, kay?" Nothing doing.

S'ok, though. As I said, nature, blah blah, she'll come when she's ready, blah blah blah. Except, maybe the slightest, most selfish, back-sore, bloated part of me is hoping that my giant orange jug o' pee has a soupcon more protein than recommended so they induce me this weekend....NOOO. Forget I said that. I didn't mean it. Really.

Seriously, Healthy Gwendy, Healthy Mom= #1 priority. You just stay in there as long as you like, my duckling. Momma can tough it out.


The Last Hurrah

Yesterday I got an unexpected day off from work- and miracle of miracles, it happened to coincide with Gavin's day off too! So we went down to the Santa Monica Pier and had ourselves a Last Day Off Together Without the Baby. We know that once she's here it will be wonderful, etc, but we've been 'just us' for going on 5 years now, and it felt fitting to mark the occasion of that coming to an end with some fun. We played skeeball and air hockey at the arcade, and saw a momma and baby harbor seal duo sunning themselves on some guys boat, and sat and watched the carousel horses for a bit... and then my body reminded me it was NINE MONTHS PREGNANT, so we drove off to a nice lunch that didn't involve me walking anywhere. We rented dopey movies, and noshed on junk, and remembered why we are married in the first place. For the tax benefits. No,just kidding, it's cause we'd rather spend time with each other than with anyone else on earth.
But now we are back to reality. I am becoming increasingly tired- it reminds me of way back in first trimester. And there still seems to be a ton of crap to get done. This weekend is the big house cleaning festival- joy of joys. You haven't lived till you've seen someone of my current proportions harnessing the "Cleaning power of oxygen!" and deploying the "Power of Pinesol!".
OH, and I'm worried about the heat! We've already had a few 90+ degrees days here and all we have is one lame-o window air conditioner in our bedroom. The hubs and I can tough it out, but what about Ms. Girl? The only kind of ac we could get for the front room would be a portable, since we don't have traditional windows, and those start at 279 freakin dollars!! GAH!! BOO!!
We'll fig it out though. I must remind myself to be zen, calm, maternal-type woman. Yes, like, shakras and chimes and all that mess. Ohm. Or something.


Shower pics! Finally!

As promised, a million shower photos. It was just the best shower ever. Really, I cannot say how grateful I am to my awesome friends and fam. Enjoy!

Our gorgeous nephew William, being gorgeous.

I am all about Tummy Play....

Everyone got something they liked at our shower, even Tony:

Phil and Mo enjoying the magic of pregnancy hormones:

Me and the Mr.

Lucy being helpful, cause she's great:

Gavin: Gay or Weird? You decide...

I'm going with Weird.

My awesome inlaws and the Mr. and Me.

Caption not needed:

Two of these men know what Gavin is in for. One of them is Gavin.
Can you tell which is which?:

Rockin hand-made shoes from my sis-in-law Alex:

Guess who Aunt Joy is...

Fresno State crew, with Lucy filling in for Brooke:


Reality Check

This will be a brief one. I have baby shower pics (it was a wonderful shower, thanks again everyone) a'comin from my good friend Ash, whose camera kicks my cameras ass, but until they arrive I thought I'd share a little moment of, well, reality with you. I woke up yesterday and the first thing I saw was this:

Oh yeah kids, that's right. It's a Gwendy bed. Our daughter is really, really coming. In like, less than a month. Holy Crap.

We kind of have a humble little "nurserette" going on in our bedroom until our lease is up in August and we can swing a bigger place- she'll sleep in the Pack-N-Play basinette until we can set up her lovely crib in the new pad. It's small, but no parents ever prepared for a baby with more excitement and love.

So there. Reality. Yeah.