Sunday, October 25, 2009

Happy Birthday, Hazel!

Welcome to the world, Hazel Reese!

Saturday, October 24, 2009

An Update

Holy cow! What a roller coaster of emotions!

Just wanted to jot down a few of our thoughts about Tweet's birthday while we have a little down time. While I write this post we are officially dilated to a nine and everything is going really well. But that hasn't been the case all day long. Things were a little tenuous for a few moments.

Things started off pretty normal. The doctor punctured Jaynee's uterus to drain the amniotic fluid and almost immediately, the contractions began. Things were moving along smoothly, albeit slowly. But we were prepared for a long day. After a while the nurse started to get worried about the babies heart beat. At this point, I have to be honest, I've never been so scared in my life! The thought of losing our little girl was terrifying. Although, I should mention that Tweet was never in serious danger. Nevertheless, it was scart! At that moment I realized just how much I love our little girl, even though I've never met her.

The doctor arrived at our side rather quickly. She made some adjustments, tried a few things, watched us closely and told the nurses to prepare us for a potential c-section. They were concerned that the umbilical cord had become kinked, and every time Jaynee contracted the baby's heart rate would drop drastically. But when the contraction ended the heart rate would resume. That condition is OK in the short term, but they were concerned that sudden and continued drops in her heart rate would be detrimental. We were sitting on pins and needles.

Now, Jaynee and I were fully aware that we many need to deliver via c-section. But when we were actually confronted by the possibility, our hearts changed in a hurry. I can say with utmost certainty, that I have never been so scared. But before we were wheeled into the operating room, our doctor wanted to give us some more time. She waited patiently and watched our vital signs closely. After some time and medical intervention, things started to improve.

The doctor ordered a shot that relaxes Jaynee and slows the contractions. This gave Tweet a long break from the contractions and the drops in heart rate. This would prove to be a blessing, as shortly thereafter Jaynee's uterus began to soften and the contractions didn't pinch the umbliical cord to tightly.

Which brings us to this point. We are dilated to a nine and things are progressing very smoothly once again. The doctor is very optimistic for a vaginal delivery, and Jaynee is doing great. She is wiped out, but I think she has what it takes to get through the delivery.

She is a ten!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Time to start pushing!!!!!!!!!!!!

The Big Day

Well Tweet, your birthday has arrived. It's 6:00 am on October 24, 2009 and your mother and I are nervously pacing around the house. We have an appointment scheduled for 8:00 am so the doctors can induce labor. We have waited so long for this day, but the timing is nearly ideal.

As your mother mentioned, I've been sick with a cold and pneumonia for three weeks. I haven't had much energy lately. Pneumonia wasn't exactly in our plans for your birthday, but perhaps this can be your first lesson; life is not always in your control. Sometimes life is full of surprises, and not all of them are good.

Luckily however, after the doctors figured out what was wrong with me they were able to prescribe pretty aggressive treatments over the last five days. After seven visits to the doctor, three shots, three oral antibiotics, three cough medicines, an inhaler, a nasal spray, steroids, rest and fluids, I'm feeling pretty spry this morning. I haven't felt this good in weeks. My energy is better than it has been in weeks, and I'm pretty sure your arrival will provide enough adrenaline to get me through the day. Your day. YOUR BIRTHDAY!!!!!

I know your mother has been waiting patiently for me to get healthy and for you to arrive. To be honest, your mother deserves all the credit for bringing us to this day, and we owe her our heartfelt gratitude. She has been amazingly strong throughout this pregnancy. She has carried you for months, all while providing you with nourishment, protection and love. Your mother is an amazing woman Tweet. I can't wait for you to meet her. If you are anything like your father, your mother is going to sweep you off your feet with her kindness, love and sense of humor.

Neither of us slept much last night. We both fell asleep around midnight, tossed and turned all night long, then your mother woke up at 3:30 and I woke up at 4:00. We have been pacing around the house nervously ever since.

Our bags are packed, the house is clean and your room is ready. We are ready for you to come to us Tweet.

Thursday, October 22, 2009

The Waiting Game

Well... here we are. 10:17 p.m. Thursday night.

No contractions.

No labor.

No rush to the hospital.

No Tweet.

But... also, no more contagious Benny! So, I guess we've got that going for us.

So, we've held on to Tweet (or, rather... she stuck to the game plan) for a few days longer than anticipated. Benny took the last of his three days of shots and we'll find out tomorrow morning if he has to go in for some more aggressive treatment if he doesn't feel markedly better.

Also, tomorrow we get to go to the doc and check my dialation to see if I've made any progress. And will likely get a cervical balloon inserted (sounds pleasant, doesn't it?) to stimulate dialation. Man, sometimes being a woman ABSOLUTELY ROCKS.

Today was more sitting around waiting for something to happen. I took my mind off the minutes ticking slowly past by getting some work done, watching a little CSI - NY (not as good as CSI: Miami, btw... but it'll work in a pinch) and updating my Facebook status with little known facts about the dog.

For instance, did YOU know that my dog can clear a room... simply by existing? She doesn't even have to pass gas. It's just this odor that follows her around. I've got a theory that it's her skin and a friend of mine has turned me on to a kind of dog food that will supposedly help with that. Of course, it's more expensive... THAT'S HOW YOU KNOW IT'LL WORK, RIGHT???

Seriously... I grew up on a farm with outdoor dogs that were never bathed. Were never shaved. And routinely got in battles with skunks... not to mention the rolling around in deer, fish and chicken carcass. And none of those dogs ever smelled one-tenth as bad as my dog does two hours after a bath and shave with her only visits to the outside world being to pee and eat. It's really quite the phenomenon.

But, I digress. Benny and I are so over the waiting right now. We're ready to move on to the next phase of our life.

Throughout the last 40 weeks and 4 days (but who's counting) everyone we've talked to has said the exact same thing: Your life is going to change forever. (Or some variance of that statement.)

Um... yea. We kinda knew that going in to it. It was kind of the point, you know?

I know that people only mean well by telling us this but, honestly... it gets a bit old. We know it's going to change. We know it's going to be hard... the hardest thing we'll ever do. We know that we'll never sleep as well as we are currently used to. And that's OK! We didn't decide to have a child on a whim. It's not like we didn't have several deep discussions on what we wanted out of life and when we wanted it and how we were going to go about starting our family. Tweet isn't a surprise. We knew we wanted Tweet before we even knew Tweet was here.

And these last few days have only solidified that, YEA!!! Let's get ON WITH IT ALREADY!!

I've been trying to be zen about the whole thing. I really have. I've spent the last couple of days watching the birds feeding at the bird feeders and sitting on my rocking chair on the front porch and watching the world go by, trying to take as much of it in as I can so that I can remember when I had time to myself without a screaming baby or a rebellious teenager turning my attention elsewhere. And it turns out... even with the thought of not having those moments as often as I do now, I still can't wait to be a Mommy.

Carrie sent me an amazing email the other day... one that I will keep forever. In it she talked about Mommyhood and the pressures that come with it. And I must admit, I've been thinking about what kind of mom I am going to be... and have been concerned that I'll fall way short of what other moms do for their kids. I'm not a crafty person. I'm just not. And I'm not much of a cook. And, I really have a hard time relating to kids. I've never even changed a diaper for the love of Pete! And I doubt I'm one of those women who just fall into motherhood naturally and who seem like they're Wonderwoman... cooking dinner, doing the laundry, keeping the house clean, playing with the kids and teaching them about life.

But Carrie... she must have somehow known because in her email was a paragraph that hit me like a brick to the face:

"I'll never be a mom like my mom who sews and bakes bread and keeps up with laundry and cleans every speck of dust, but those things aren't all that important to me. It took me a while to discover, that's what made my mom, my mom. I'm a mom who takes my kids hiking and on adventures, makes art projects, frosts cookies, and leaves the laundry until it is piled high. You'll show Tweet what is important to you and you can be whatever kind of mom you want to be."

With that one paragraph, Carrie gave me my "Aha!" moment and I'll never be able to thank her for that. I get to decide what kind of mom my children will have... and it's okay if it's not the same definition as other kids moms. I have my strengths that I'll play up and hope people don't notice so much the weaknesses.

And if I can be half the mom to Tweet that Carrie is to her kids? I'll be doing pretty well.

Wednesday, October 21, 2009

Under The Weather!

With all this free time that I had today waiting for Benny to start feeling better and Tweet to NOT come, I decided to take some pics around the yard to show her exactly what she was missing when she didn't come on time. And also to show her what the weather was like around here the week she was born.

The birdfeeder outside our kitchen window. Benny picked up some more seed for me the other day and I was excited to get it ready for my chickadee's and junco's.

Another bird feeder outside the kitchen window. This is the one that Steve the Squirrel prefers to feed from. As well as Steve the Jay that I caught scaring off my little brown birds yesterday. Turns out that both Steves are bullies.

And lookee here! It's Steve the Chickadee!!

I'm still figuring out the settings on our new camera, so some of the foliage pics are out of focus. I can deal... can you?

Pic of some of the mum's out front. I've really let my garden go this year... what with not being able to bend over and weed for the last month or so. And I know I'll pay for it next Spring.

Did you know that sweet peas are perennials at the House That Benny Built? Neither did I. That's just the kind of green thumb I have.

A few of the grapes in the backyard that Bailey hasn't ingested. YET.

Part of the vine in the backyard. Love the red!

If anyone out there has a great recipe for wine, let me know. It's either that or the dog explodes. AGAIN.

The dog run along the side of the house. Fall is seriously my favorite time of year because of the colors and the fact that it can make the dog run look beautiful.

The weeping birch out front.
I honestly can't wait for this tree to change from green to yellow every year!

Tuesday, October 20, 2009

Holding On A Few More Days...

Dear Tweet,
Well, unless you decide it's time to come out like... RIGHT NOW... and we head to the hospital for less than the normal labor time for first-timers, it looks like you're going to miss your due date of October 20.

And you know what? That's TOTALLY okay.

Turns out, your pops, who has been fighting a cold for 15 (that's right, FIFTEEN) days now, was just diagnosed with bacterial pneumonia. And, THAT, my dear girl is no bueno. The doc that finally diagnosed him couldn't believe that he had it, as your dad is a physically fit, healthy guy. Not your typical walking pneumonia candidate. And neither one of us can figure out how he came down with it, yet I have remained miraculously immune to it. The only clear explanation for this phenomenon is his insistence on eating healthy, fresh veggies... and my insistence on eating chocolate five times a day. Anecdotal or scientific? We'll let the evidence and history be the judge.

So, the plan has now changed from contemplating the purchase of a trampoline specifically for the use of starting labor, to holding on to you just a couple of days longer so that your daddy isn't contagious and can give you your first bath... first kiss on the forehead.... first whatever it is that daddy's do with their newborn daughters. He's waited so long for that moment, it's the least we can do, right????

We went to the doctors office yesterday, just to see how things were progressing. Right now, the big scare across the country is the H1N1 virus and hospitals haven't been able to keep the vaccine shot in stock. Luckily, I was able to snag a shot yesterday so that while you breastfeed, I'll be able to give you the antibodies I produce to ward off the disease.

So, yea... there's a lot of sick people out there right now... and guess where they all were yesterday? That's right! In the lobby waiting to see their baby doctors... and coughing/sneezing/breathing their germs all over your dad and I. So that was fun. And it may explain how your dad ended up with pneumonia the day you were supposed to be born!

I'm going to get a little technical here and hope that you're 18 or so before you ever read this so I don't have to explain the details to you. To see how the pregnancy was progressing, the doc checked my cervix and I was only at a 1.5 dilation. Which means that my body is not ready for you to come. But, since we're not really looking forward to delivering a 10-pounder, doc says she'll induce Saturday morning if you haven't graced us with your presence. She also stripped the membranes (whatever that means... since I haven't quite figured it out, I'm going to ask you not so ask and just respect that it was very uncomfortable, mkay?) to help stimulate labor... and we have a 50-50 chance of going into labor between now and Saturday.

Which basically means that although we've done everything we can possibly do, IT'S STILL UP TO YOU. I hope that this isn't a sign of what life with you on the outside of my body is going to be like. I'd like to hold on to some semblance of authority and control for as long as possible!!

I will say that the anticipation was much easier for me after visiting with the doctor. The previous two nights, I couldn't sleep. I was up wandering around the house... wondering if you were going to decide that tonight was the night... wondering what it was going to feel like to start contractions... wondering if we had any Cheerios left or if I should hold off until the morning. That type of thing. On top of that, I just didn't feel well. I didn't feel sick, but it definitely wasn't a feeling of health as I've had throughout most of this pregnancy. But, last night, I slept like a baby and really had a hard time getting up this morning. Which was AWESOME. I'm hoping for a few more nights like that.

Last week, we had a false alarm with you and went to the hospital just to be on the safe side. We thought that my water had broken.... and by "we", I mean your dad. Because - and I'm not exaggerating here - there was no talking him out of throwing all of our bags in the car... convinced as he was of your pending arrival. And you would have never known that the man had been sick for days with the energy that the very thought of your arrival gave him! When we got there and explained our concerns, they immediately hooked me up to the monitors and tested to see if there was any amniotic fluid leaking. The first test came back positive and your dad gave me a "told-you-so" look. But the second test came back negative. The moral of the story, Tweet, is... no matter when your dad thinks he's right, always check with me. *Ahem*

But, the dash to the hospital did serve a great purpose by being a dry-run for us for when the time comes. And, actually... we didn't do too bad. We've had our bag packed for a few weeks and the only thing I really had to get together were my toiletries. Because when the pics are taken, your mom is gonna need some cover-up for all the acne you've given her for the last two weeks! True story, Tweet. This is something that is very un-cool about pregnancy, btw. The kicks in the middle of the night? Cool. The monster zit on my chin? Patently UNCOOL.

Anyway, I guess for now we're sitting and waiting some more. And knowing that I need to hold on to you for a couple of more days so that your dad can experience the thrill of holding you for the first time without fear of contagion is so totally worth the wait. I just need you to buy in to the game-plan and hold off any thoughts of coming out before Thursday, okay?

That'd be great.


Sunday, October 18, 2009

To My Darling Daughter

Like your mother, I'd like to write a letter that captures my heart, my feelings and my love for you. A letter that describes this moment in time. This moment in our lives, in your life, and the events that have led to today. There is so much to say. So much in my heart. So much love, excitement, pride and joy. Yet, at this moment I'm equally filled with apprehension, fear, nerves and doubt. My emotions are raw in nature and limitless in scope. But thus is life, and thus are the emotions that have led to this moment.

When your mother and I first met we were merely kids. Two kids with open hearts, big dreams and active imaginations. Over time we became close friends, and like many friendships we shared in love and constant laughter. It was obvious that we brought joy into each others lives, but we never imagined the eternal joy that was about to unfold. For when we merged our hearts we found infinite love, endless laughter and years of adventure. The last ten years have been an adventure with thrills at every corner, and of course its fair share of spills. But amid our mix of triumphs and tribulations, we have grown together. We've grown into a loving husband and a loving wife, and in just two days (or maybe less), we will grow together again as a loving mother and a loving father. Such is the life that has brought us to this moment. The moment before your arrival. The moment that EVERYTHING has been predicated upon.

The moment that we start our family

But before I become a father, and before our family arrives into this world, I feel compelled to give you advice. Advice that is based on all my years of life, maturity and wisdom. But the truth is, like you I am still growing. I'm still learning and maturing, and as I write this letter I know in my heart that my advice will one day be antiquated. Replaced with sage advice gained from additional life on this earth. Of that I am certain. So how do I give you, my darling daughter, advice of which to live by, when I know in my heart that my words will one day seem shallow? For this is my struggle.

I'm not a philosopher, nor am I poet. I wish I could explain this world, its heavens and its hells, but I can't. Like my heart, my soul and my spirit, this world cannot be described. It must be experienced. For this world is so dynamic, our emotions and desires so complex, our lives in constant flux.

With that said, I welcome you into this world. A world that MUST be experienced. A world of never ending possibility, endless discovery and mystifying complexity. A world filled with unrivaled beauty, yet entangled with inexplicable horror. A world where fundamental truth is more than philosophical fodder, but an individual and context-specific experience. For it is that multitude of perspectives, the infinite angles of which to view the world, that create its complexity. Therefore, I welcome you into this maze of mystifying complexity and offer you, my darling daughter, my most earnest attempt at universal advice.

To my darling daughter, my loving baby girl, the twinkle in my heart, above all things I wish for you to be blessed with the essence of a loving heart, a pure soul and a soaring spirit. For when you have those three things, you hold the essence of the world inside you. These are things that I cannot give you. You must find them on your own. To find them you must embark on your own journey. A journey that we call life. But I promise, as your father I will give you everything you need to prepare you for that journey.

So darling, I ask that you remain cognitively and emotionally aware of your essence. That is, be aware of your heart, your soul and your spirit. Live your life with a full and loving heart. Share your love with others, and others will share their love with you. For where there is love there is eternal happiness.

Live life with a pure soul and let goodness be your guide. For when your soul is pure so too is your heart, and when your heart is pure, so too is your love.

Follow your spirit throughout your journey, and let it soar as your life unfolds. Along with your soul, let your spirit be your guide. May it give you everlasting inspiration to live life to the fullest, wherever and however you may choose.

The world awaits you my darling, and upon birth you will hold the essence of the world inside you. Be aware of it, listen to it and let it be your guide. The validity of this advice I am certain, and I give it to you with my purest and most everlasting love; the love of a father.

Thursday, October 15, 2009

The Final Bump Watch - 38 Weeks

We are now in the official Sitting On Our Thumbs phase of the pregnancy. The hours tick by sooooo slowly. And I often wonder if you can actually drive yourself insane by listening to the tick-tock of the clock. It's a creative form of torture, actually.

And the really bad part about all of this is that since I'm working from home this week (so I don't have to wear pants and look all nice for work) is that I'm literally 30 feet from the kitchen. And at 39 weeks pregnant, and bored to death from waiting for the baby to show up... well, it's just. not. good., mkay?

Seriously, I don't know how stay-at-home mom's aren't all 300 pounds. I'm just sayin'.

My boss is allowing me to work from home this week and it's actually been pretty, I dunno, SPECTACULAR?? I can't believe how productive I've been and how well the Office That Benny Built In The House That Jaynee Made Really Salty Cornbread In (long story), is working out.

This week, Benny's been battling a bit of a cold that just won't go away. And yes... that's made him a bit of a Cranky Pants (it's true, babe... in fact, I do believe you TM'd the phrase Cranky Pants). I understand why he's grumpy though... this whole time he's been working out to be in the best possible shape and condition for Tweet's arrival... and then he gets sidelined with a stupid cold. Not cool.

In the good news department, even though we haven't been taking too many precautions to keep him from infecting me, I haven't managed to come down with whatever he has. There are many theories to this phenomenon from me just having a strong immune system even while pregnant, to his Phoenix genetics betraying him whenever the weather changes in Ogden. But I must admit, I'm more likely to believe that the cause for my immunity is simply that I don't waste my time with petty colds. I like to go for the exotic diseases like whooping cough and maybe scarlet fever thrown in there for color. That's just how I roll in the health department.

This week we've also been putting the finishing touches on preparing for Tweet's arrival. We recently dropped a good portion of our life's savings (don't worry, it's not like we had that much to begin with) at Babies-R-Us to get the rest of the stuff that was on our registry. And, by the way, Babies-R-Us is a total scam. They tell you to put everything you want on your registry and that within two weeks of the due date, you can come and get everything that's still left on your registry for 10% off. Sounds like a good deal, right? WRONG. What they DON'T tell you is that every four months, Babies-R-Us has a huge turnover and most of the stuff that you have on the list, they NO LONGER CARRY. So, unless you don't register until a few weeks before your due date, you likely won't be able to find that cute diaper bag or swing that you registered for. MAKES SENSE, DOESN'T IT?

Yea... you can color me upset with Babies-R-Us. Oh, I'll be back... of this there is no doubt... but I WON'T like it.

We also finally got the curtain up for the closet. I picked out the fabric last month, and my mom put it together and brought it up to us this weekend. I won't get into the debacle THAT proved to be, as I only try to think happy thoughts the week before baby girl is supposed to arrive. But, I will tell you that apparently, I'm not the only one in the family who struggles with measurements and numbers.

After we finally figured out what we were doing wrong (*cough*fourhourslater*cough*) Mom and I headed to the spa to get a pedicure. I've been needing one for a while and decided to pull the trigger so that I didn't offend the doctors and nurses during delivery. And, you know... I also wanted to see how Mom would handle someone other than herself touching her feet. THAT WAS WORTH THE PRICE OF ADMISSION ALONE.

Benny's brother and uncle came up to visit last weekend, as well. We decided to bite the bullet and buy his brother's awesome SUV that runs like a dream. And yes... that now officially makes me a hypocrite for railing against SUV's in the past. But I don't care... it's now the safest car we own AND it has a sunroof. So there.

Actually, the need for the SUV presented itself when we realized that the Sonata has like, I dunno, ZERO room in the back seat? And with the way Benny likes to recline his seat while he drives, there was just no way to fit a car seat back there. Guess who didn't think about THAT when they bought the car a few years ago?

We had a great time with Benny's brother and uncle, and with my family. It made the days pass by a lot quicker... well, with the exception of the four-hour debacle with the curtain. But the fact that the curtain debacle kept me from hearing the tick-tock of the clock? I suppose I can live with the inconvenience!

And because I promised you months ago... here are the pics of the finished nursery:

The curtain!

Closeup of the print

Crib and rocking chair

Closeup of the decal over the crib

Changing table

Decals over the changing table.

Wednesday, October 14, 2009

Letter To My Baby Girl

October 14, 2009

Dear Baby Girl -
You'll notice I didn't write "Dear Tweet". This is because we're days and possibly just hours (minutes?) from meeting you... and you've become so real that calling you "Tweet" in this letter (although it's a nickname that may not go away after you're born... we'll have to play it by ear) doesn't seem appropriate.

I've been meaning to write you a letter for months now. A real letter... not a Bump Watch or a Weekly Update... but a real letter like the one my mom wrote me before I was born. But, in all our excitement and preparation for you to join us and make our family whole, the letter writing has been put on the back burner. Funny how six days away from delivery puts a whole new level of urgency on things.

This morning, I woke up at 5:30... something that one day you'll figure out NEVER happens... and decided that today was the day that the letter would be written. I am taking advantage of a quiet house this morning... one of the few remaining that we'll have before you get here. Your dad has been sick for the last week or so and hasn't really had time to take care of himself, so today he's sleeping in. The fact that right now it's almost 8 a.m. and I haven't heard him stir should tell you that your Daddy REALLY needs his rest.

I like to poke fun of your Daddy by telling him that this illness proves that he just doesn't pregnant well. When, in all honesty, he's been my rock for the last 39 weeks. And it's a bummer that right before you come into this world, he's got a cold. Actually, this is not something new for your father... every year around this time, his warm-weather genes go haywire when the weather changes and he battles a cold for a couple of weeks. Last year, it was 16 days... not that I counted or anything.

And what's really tragic about the whole situation is that we absolutely adore Ogden at this time of year. We love the leaves changing color, we love the crispness you can not only feel but smell in the air. We love going to the college football games, and hearing the Ogden High football games every other Friday as it's just down the road. We love walking to the neighborhood coffee shop, Kaffe Mercantile, and looking at all of the beautiful fall colors along the way. We love 70 degree days that you can look up at the mountains surrounding us and see snow.

And we love that you will always associate Fall with your big entry into the world!!!

My side of the family has never had a Fall baby... we're all pretty much Springers, with the exception of your Aunt Lindsey who has the unfortunate luck of being born the day after Christmas... and it just can't be fun to celebrate your birthday during the holiday's like that! (Which is why we are bringing you into the world just in time for Halloween!!) And since the rest of us were all Springers, we never had the fortune of taking cupcakes to school on our birthday, and never got recognized as turning another year older by the teacher in class. But you will!!!

When your dad and I got married, we both agreed that there were certain things we needed to accomplish before we started a family. And we both agreed that no matter how much pressure we got from friends and family (and there was A LOT), the decision to start to start our own family was ours and ours alone.

This is why it took us 6 years to bring you in to this world. We had things to do! We traveled to Europe, raced in tons of triathlons (including three Ironman races for your dad), furthered our careers and our education... with your dad getting his Master's Degree from Utah State University... and made our little starter house a home.

You see, baby girl, we had to be ready. And felt like we instinctively knew what the timeline for our lives should and would be. I guess what I'm saying is that I hope you are able to trust your gut and not follow the crowd when the time comes. Because, who knows better than you how to live your life? Look at that? My first motherly piece of advice... and you'll be too young to appreciate it and take advantage of it for like another 10 years.

We are so excited for you to join our family, sweetie. We have such high hopes for you... mainly that you'll be happy and healthy. Everything else is just noise. But in the last nine months, I've pretty much thought about what my hopes and dreams are for you.
  • I hope that I can be a good mother to you... I know now that I'll always question that. But, I think that's pretty common for all mothers.
  • I hope that we can give you everything you need. Not necessarily everything you want, but everything you need.
  • I hope that you'll have a kind heart like your father and a sense of humor like your mother. I want you to laugh. I want you to love. I want you to take all of the best qualities from your father and me, and make them into one amazing person.
  • I hope you know that your father and I will love you no matter what road life leads you down.
  • I hope that you do not come out a Republican, though.
  • I hope that you are close with both sides of the family and that you are spoiled rotten by your grandparents.
  • I hope that you will always treat others the way you want to be treated.
  • I hope that you grow up with a strong character and a sense of right and wrong.
  • I hope that if you are ever bullied or teased, you will take the high road and remember that kids can be cruel, but life goes on. You'll notice I didn't say I hope you are never teased... that's because even though it's horrible to go through that, I know that you will emerge on the other side of it stronger for having gone through it. That said... I HOPE YOU ARE NEVER TEASED!
  • I hope that you think for yourself and not just go with what the crowd says.
  • I hope that you stick up for the little guy.
  • I hope that you can appreciate why we choose to raise you the way we do. It may not be the popular way in this town or this state, but it's the way we feel is right.
  • I hope you can forgive us when we make mistakes with you. I have a feeling that this will happen A LOT.
  • I hope you see the love your father and I have for each other every single day of your life. Even when we kiss in front of you when you're 14-years-old and it's the most disgusting thing you've ever seen. It's gonna happen, baby girl. And you should be happy that it does.
  • I hope that you never judge a book by it's cover.
  • I hope that you always feel safe with us.
  • I hope that you come to realize that the world is a tough place, but it's still amazing to be a part of it.
  • I hope that you get your father's legs and arms... and my derriere and lips. Quite frankly, I also hope that you get his intelligence. Not that I'm stupid, but your father has a way of looking at things and arriving at a solution or a position that I lack... and it has served him well in life.
  • I hope that you're not one dimensional. I want you to enjoy art and athletics and music and plays! There's so much in this world to see and do! Don't limit yourself to one thing.
  • I hope you get to experience different cultures of the world... and I hope we get to be there with you when you do.
  • I hope that while you're in college, we can send you backpacking through Europe over the summer. Everyone must do this at least once in their life.
  • I hope (to your father's chagrin) that you love animals.
  • I hope you have wonderful friends and that you know that the secret to having a friend is to be a friend.
  • I hope that you love school as much as your father and I did.
  • And finally, I hope that when the time comes, you find a wonderful partner to share your life with, like I did. And hopefully, you'll learn what to look for in a partner by being part of our family and seeing how your father treats me, you, and everyone he meets. You're a lucky girl, getting to have a father like that.
Yep... that just about covers 9 months worth of thinking about you. About us. And I'm sure that for the next 18 years, I'll add to the list.

We're six days away from your due date and right now all I can think about is how much our lives are going to change overnight when you finally decide to make your grand entrance. I'm nervous about the delivery, of course. I guess it's to be expected when you don't know what to expect... other than what the books tell you.

I do know that I hope they don't have to induce me. I'd like to be able to look at your dad and say the cliche and rite-of-passage phrase: "It's time." I want to have him drive us to the hospital (kinda stressed out cuz that's a good look on him) while I'm having contractions. I actually want to experience what contractions feel like... to an extent. And when we hit what I feel is the "extent", I'm going to take the epidural and wait for you to come to us. Because I'm brave, smart and tough that way.

We haven't named you, yet... because we feel like we have to meet you first. That, and we don't want people harshing our mellow on whatever name we decide on. We have a pretty good idea what your name will be, but for now it's just fun to have that between your dad and me. Plus, you could come out looking like a Harriet and we want to have the flexibility to roll with the punches!!

Every night before your dad and I go to sleep... which is right about the time you start doing gymnastics... he rubs my belly and finds where your knee or elbow is sticking out. You seem to calm down whenever he puts his hand on my belly... perhaps you can feel the love through the skin? I like to think so. I have a feeling that he's going to be able to calm you down like no one else. We also talk about what we think you'll be like. Will you be happy? Will you cry a lot? Will you want to sleep in your crib, the side-sleeper or next to us? Will you be a good breast-feeder? Will you respond to us? Will you be so adorable that I want to eat you up?

All of those questions should be answered pretty soon. And while I can't wait... I can wait. Because, baby girl, this whole new life we're about to embark on is exciting and scary and I just hope that I'm the right woman for the job... that I'm the right mom for you.

I love you, baby girl. Always have. Always will. When you read this years and years from now, I hope that you can feel the love I have for you as I write this... sitting on the couch, looking out the window at the rain and believing that at 32 years of age with a baby on the way, a stinky dog, a sick husband and a cat that is outside crying to be fed, I just may be the luckiest girl on the planet.


Wednesday, October 7, 2009

Bump Watch - Week 37

Also known as... I'm Sorta Getting Over It Week.

It's not that I've had a tough pregnancy. Quite the opposite, actually. No hemorrhoids, no particular complaints other than the constant fatigue and, now the apparently inhuman snoring that Benny's privy to every night.

In fact, yesterday morning I woke up with a really sore throat and shrugged it off as caused by the change in the weather. But Benny confirmed with me that "HOLY COW! I have never heard anything as loud as your snoring last night. I mean... no wonder your throat is sore! The noises coming out of you were NOT human. I bet you couldn't make that same noise while you are awake!"

So, I've got that going for me.

Tweety-Pie is progressing nicely. And bonus! I only gained one pound this week!

Benny and I are getting anxious for the Tweeter to arrive. We're busy running last-minute errands and getting things in place. And, we finally pulled the trigger on a chair for the nursery. And, no... it's not the $700 chair I drool over whenever we go to Babies-R-Us. Nope... we had to have a reality check with that chair. That chair lost.

This chair, however...


I know, I know... but we like to say that while it may be big and ugly, it's not huge and atrocious. So there.

So, we're pretty pumped. And yes, I know we still need to put up pics of the nursery, but we want to get the finishing touches done before that. We should be done by this weekend... nothing like procrastinating until the very last minute, right?

In other news, I finally broke down when it snowed last week and got some cold weather maternity clothes. I know I swore I wouldn't... but I forgot this one thing about myself: I. HATE. THE. COLD. And, so... with Benny's blessing, I proceeded to drop a good portion of my paycheck off at Motherhood Maternity. This... this is getting old.

Tweet's moving around quite a bit these days... even though the books all tell you that you won't feel as much movement towards the end. These "books"... they LIE.

Benny and I spent the weekend in Park City where I had some meetings for work. Which meant that HE got to spend the day tooling around Park City (or would have, if it hadn't snowed... and by the way? SO NOT READY FOR SNOW!) and I got to spend the day in meeting after meeting after meeting. So that was fun. It was even fun trying to play hide the huge ankles so that people wouldn't stare too much. That game... it's a lot harder than it sounds. As is the game where I try to hide the swelling in my face. Who knew?

Anyhoo... I can't begin to explain to you all how much we are ready for Tweet to join our little family and make it whole.

And... I can't begin to explain to you how at the same time, that thought terrifies me. What if I'm not a good mom? What if she comes out already walking and talking? What if I accidentally drop her??? What if Tweet doesn't have the sweet, laid-back, gentle personality that I pretty much explained to Benny was my requirement for any baby to come into the House That Benny Built and Jaynee Sobbed In Twice A Day Last Week? What if the baby doesn't respond to me? It's happened before... I have this way with babies. And that way is, as a rule they don't like me. What if I can't ever fit back into my pre-pregnancy pants again???

What if, what if, what if???????????

Twelve days, people. TWELVE. DAYS. Am I at the right level of panic yet, or should I consider taking it up a notch?

37 Weeks!!!