A Little Cranky, I Think

I've finally entered the period of time that I always pictured in my thoughts of having a baby: obviously pregnant, eliciting responses from strangers without bringing it up, or hinting. Store clerks are telling me the sex of this baby, asking when I'm due. I had a man in my office building today ask me when I'm due, and tell me "feel better." (I didn't realize I wasn't feeling good!) A man held the door for me as I walked through with my lunch, and tell me "enjoy your lunch - both of you!" Surprisingly, this general interest in my "condition" has not extended to bathroom lines. I am a big believer in karma, and doing nice things because you never know when you might be on the other side of that favor. I have always, to my knowledge, let pregnant women pass me in the line. Maybe women are just more catty than men, but no woman yet has let me skip the line. I don't necessarily expect it, but would like to think that since many of the women I'm speaking of have obviously been in the same situation, there might be a little sympathy. I've always heard there's a special place in hell for women who don't help other women. Hmm.

I had my glucose screening last Thursday, and haven't gotten the results back yet. The drink didn't taste so bad, it was having to drink it in 4 minutes that was hard. Also in the world of OB-GYN news, I am now at the point of having to go in every two weeks. Woot. Everyone is reminding me that I'm so close to the end now, not much longer to go, better start getting things ready...so why do I feel like I've been pregnant forever, and that there is no end in sight? I'm not tired of it, I guess, just feeling like this is perhaps a permanent condition. I'm starting to get so used to perpetual heartburn and frequent bathroom breaks, that I have a tough time remembering life before. I really used to only pee about 4 times a day. I acknowledge that that probably wasn't very healthy, but I pee 4 times in the night now. Additionally, my belly is now large enough that I'm spilling on it constantly. Food/beverages that used to fall to the floor now fall squarely on my midsection. Cute.

Not much going on here

Shawn and I went yesterday and got massages with the gift certificate Patsy had sent us. I think we both really needed it. I finished my last papers for grad school on Monday night at about 1 am. Officially done! However, for the last week, I have been having such bad back pain, I've been taking two showers a day; I stand bent over with my lower back under the spray as hot as I can take it. That, with a light course of Tylenol when I really can't take it, and ANOTHER pillow added to the bed seem to help a little. (I think I'm up to 4 pillows) The massage was great, although with prenatal massages, they are a little skittish to touch your lower back, or work you too hard. I would definitely do it again, though...very relaxing. Shawn's was pre-emptive - we left the massage place and watched the Huskies get beat up for three hours.
In other news, I have scheduled my one hour glucose test for the 23rd. I'm kind of dreading it, mostly because I know the drink will be pretty nasty, and the doctor won't let me take it home and drink it before I come in. I have to hang around the office for an hour. On my lunch break. I don't have to fast though, which I know some doctors are making people do. My coworker who is pregnant failed her test by two points, and had to go back in for the three hour blood drawing event. Yikes. I'm hoping to avoid that, and pass it the first time.
All the warnings I had heard about the baby's kicking getting painful have of course, come to pass. It's not so much the actual kicking that hurts, as the location that baby chooses to pound on for 15 minutes at a time. For some reason, my right lower rib is particularly deserving. Never my left side, only right. The kicks aren't so hard, but after 12, the area is a little sensitive. And, of course, the baby's favorite time for the daily kick-a-thon is during nap time. I'm trying to sit quietly with the kids, and talk to them quietly about why they need to lay down and relax, and I'm hopping up out of my chair every two minutes and gasping for air. Really relaxing. Last Sunday, Shawn and I were sitting in church while the choir was singing, and we couldn't concentrate, since my midsection looked like a bad scene from Alien. I knew that at any moment, something was going to come popping out. We also couldn't keep from laughing. Hopefully, this Sunday will be calmer.

Actual Conversation

Me: Hey, Shawn, what do you want for Christmas?
Shawn: I don't know. Hey, how about like a cloth that I could put over my shoulder, so if the baby throws up, it won't get on my clothes? Isn't that a good idea?
Me: Wow. Did you just think of that yourself?
Shawn: Well, yeah.
Me: Cause I'm pretty sure we're going to get some of those.

First Kick

No, not the first one I've felt, obviously. Last night, I was lying in bed while Shawn was brushing teeth, etc. The baby was kicking so hard, I was sure I could see a body part protruding if I looked. I called Shawn over, since I was afraid if I sat up, it would stop. He grudgingly put his hand on my belly, and surprise! He could feel the baby kick! How cool. Of course, it took me an additional 45 minutes to go to sleep, because apparently we had woken the dragon. There was some kind of party. Somersaults, kicks, hits, stretching. Every movement you could imagine, all going on until after 11 pm. I fear my childhood sins are coming back to haunt me. You see, I never slept the night through until I was three. Not only did I not sleep through the night, but I was a night owl, up partying. I'm REALLY hoping this baby will take its sleeping cues from Daddy.

Disco Mama

There is the belly, just at 22 weeks. I've heard the womb described as a "discoteque" for the baby - all the noises created by my insides, combined with the relatively dark atmosphere, and muffled noises from the outside. No one informed me that my entire abdomen was going to be a combination disco/mosh pit/soccer field/bongo drum. Between the indigestion, general intestinal issues (TMI), and baby practicing its dance moves/penalty kick/rhythm skills, it's like a party in my shirt! Whoo! I'm not complaining about the baby part, it's not generally hard enough to hurt yet, but the combo effect is drastic.

Also drastic is my new diet. Due to unforeseen heartburn issues, the Gremminger household is seriously cutting back on tomato intake. While this doesn't sound like a hardship, this includes tomato soup (my favorite), pizza, tacos, spaghetti, pretty much anything that has ever been within 5 feet of a tomato. Also on the bad list is orange juice, medium amounts of soda, many fried foods, and most citrus. I can stomach a clementine, thank goodness, because I LOVE THEM. However, this kind of cuts my options for healthy eating down. Actually, upon looking at that list, it kind of cuts my options for unhealthy eating down. Hmm. This would be why I've been so unhappy. I like chicken fingers, tomato soup, soda, and pizza! (No, I'm not secretly 8 years old, contrary to what Shawn might try to tell you) The one benefit - I am totally happy with mac and cheese...

Also interesting: had the first case of internal hiccups this weekend. Despite feeling like exactly what you think it might feel like, I still sat there wondering about it for about 10 minutes. Nobody ever said preggos are very smart. Shawn can't work out how a creature that is not breathing air could possibly have the hiccups, despite being reassured that it is a muscle spasm, capable of being experienced by any animal with a diaphragm. Hiccups have nothing to do with air.

My Darling Husband

I am on a baby high. I got to stop by and see Erin and Gracie tonight - too cute! Additionally, over the last week, I have purchased and received several baby items. We got the car seat and stroller, as previously mentioned. I found the bedding I wanted on serious discount on ebay, and that came in on Thursday. I also found two of those swaddly things (Shawn insists on calling them "swaddling clothes"), and they arrived from ebay Friday. Shawn picked up some cloth diapers for me that I bought off Craig's List on Wednesday. I am happily surrounded by baby paraphernalia. The ultimate bit though, is that my darling husband painted the baby's room on Thursday. Not only did he paint it, he picked out the color! And it is perfect! I try not to brag too often, but he really is the most amazing man. Not only has he not yet made fun of me for the myriad ridiculous things I have begun doing in the last 5 months (watch a women try to fall asleep in a pillow fortress while madly chewing tums...), but he has actually offered himself up to help me in various ways. He has offered to rub my back, make me food, go get me food, carry things for me. Maybe these are things husbands are simply supposed to do. But my husband continues to do them, with a smile on his face, through the complaints of TOO HOT, HEARTBURN, MUST PEE! He continually asks me what he can do for me, whether it is to make me feel better physically or emotionally. He never mocks my many physical issues, or sudden needs. He is just there for me, without question, without judgement, or even a snicker (when one is usually well deserved).

All of this is my way of saying that I am somehow not surprised that as I sit amidst the baby explosion that is causing my happiness, he is buried in the basement, calmly and completely ignoring me and my stuff. I think he's earned it.

Baby Stuff!

I feel like Christmas came early! The nice UPS man just delivered me some baby stuff...a carseat and a stroller! THANKS, PATSY! I also found the bedding we want on super discount on ebay, and it should be delivered tomorrow. I've been trying not to spend a bunch of money on baby things yet, so having stuff to play with and set up is QUITE exciting. And Shawn's not around tonight, so he won't be rolling his eyes at me as I play. Woot for baby stuff!