Dear Baby Smith (a.k.a. Doctor),
Tomorrow is our Blood Glucose/Gestational Diabetes Test. As your parent, I should tell you that this will be the first of many high-stakes tests that you will experience in your life. Hopefully by the time you enter school, the era of over-testing students will be over, but we won't count on that. Plus, you will certainly still have to take your driving test, the SAT, and college exams. They're no fun, but tests are a part of life.
With that in mind, I feel that I should tell you that in our household, we do our best to NOT FAIL TESTS. We are not going to be psycho Tiger Mom parents who expect you to get an A on every test you take, but we do expect you to take tests seriously and always do your best. If we ever find out that you have filled in the bubbles on one of your answer sheets to make a picture or spell out something obnoxious like "Doctor is Da Bomb" like one of my students did, you will be in BIG TROUBLE. Like, we might make you wear a t-shirt that says, "I think I'm da bomb even though I only got 10% correct on my state-mandated standardized test" to school for two weeks. And you will have to hand-wash that shirt each night, all by yourself. I'm sure your future therapist will have a field day with that one.
We realize that you will probably fail a few tests in your lifetime, and that's ok. For instance, if you ever have to take a test that involves musical ability or knowledge, you will probably be screwed, because I'm pretty sure that you only have one blood relative that is musically talented, while the rest of us would qualify for music Special Ed services (if they existed).
But since tomorrow is your FIRST high-stakes test, let's start out strong by not failing it. Let's drink the nasty orange sugar solution and show the nurse that Smiths are not test-failers, ok? Ok. Good talk.
Love, Mom
Baby Smith Countdown!
Wednesday, February 23, 2011
Wednesday, February 9, 2011
Joining Team Hippie
If you asked anyone who knows Jeromy and I fairly well to describe us, chances are, they would NOT use the word "hippies." In fact, I'd bet a lot of money that nothing in their description would even be in that neighborhood. "Kinda liberal" maybe, but "granola" or "tree-hugging".....no. I mean, we take our reusable bags to the grocery store, but we drive there in a (smallish) SUV. We have more than one TV in our house. And--maybe most importantly-- we both insist on taking showers every day. Hippie disqualification.
The truth is, though, that we do have some secret hippie tendencies, and I think we are leaning even more in that direction now that we have a baby on board. You might have guessed this if you read the post where I talked about reading Raising Baby Green. We've been pretty firmly on the organic food wagon for a while, but now there's the whole world of non-toxic toys and organic baby clothes to think about, too. (Organic baby clothes are pretty expensive, though, so I'm planning to just wash all of Doctor's little outfits in vinegar a few times, which is supposed to strip a lot of the chemicals. And no, I don't have a scientific study to back that up.)
There are a couple of pretty big decisions we've made recently that might place us on Team Hippie. Both of these choices have already gotten some strong reactions from people (positive and negative), so maybe I'm asking for it by advertising them to an even wider audience, but here goes.
First, I never thought I'd say this, but I'm going to TRY to give birth without any medication. Key word being "try." As my mom pointed out the other day, I'm a little less than excellent with pain. And Jeromy can tell you that the last time I had some kind of 24-hour flu (about a week before our wedding) I kept insisting that having even a sheet over me made my skin hurt unbearably, and that I was almost definitely dying. So it's entirely possible that when I'm actually in the delivery room, I'll start slapping anyone who dares to come near me without a big fat epidural needle. We'll see. I certainly don't think epidurals are bad and evil; I just think they're kind of scary and have some potential risks and downsides.
So, as I've mentioned before, one step that we're taking to help with the no-medication/no-Rebecca-punching-people plan is hiring a doula. Well, actually, several doulas. We signed up with a doula collective, which means that the specific doula we have at the labor will depend on who is "on call" when it happens. I've tried to explain to a few people exactly what a doula does, and I'm sure I'm not doing the best job of it, but this is what my understanding is. Basically, a doula's purpose is to help make the labor as comfortable as possible for the mother, and to take some of the pressure off the father in terms of coaching, decision-making, etc. They come to the hospital with their secret earth mother birthing wisdom, and bring magical doula tools with them, like heat packs and a birthing ball. Which I think is just one of the big exercise balls, but still, it's supposed to help. When we went to the "Meet the Doulas Night" back in December, they had a couple who had recently delivered with a doula there as guest speakers. When the mom described the doula rubbing her back (to counter the pressure of her contractions) for NINE HOURS, I was ready to write a big fat check then and there. Jeromy can rub my back for about four minutes before his hands get tired. He'd be in the corner whimpering in pain by the time they got me hooked up to the monitors. Hence, the doulas are going to be our new BFFs.
The other hippie decision we've made is to try to use cloth diapers. I know it sounds a little crazy, and it's something else that I never thought I'd go for. Cloth diapers have come a long way since the white squares that had to be origami-folded around your baby and pinned, though. They now basically look and work like cloth versions of regular diapers. Again, I'm totally NOT judging people who use disposable diapers; I'm sure we will be using them when we're not at home. But from what I've read, there are some advantages to cloth diapers--fewer rashes and "blow-outs" (eww), easier potty-training, etc. Plus, it actually ends up being quite a bit cheaper in the long run. And look how cute they are!
We are still making some other decisions that will probably earn us hippie demerits. I'm going to give birth in a hospital, where they have lots of nice beeping machines (-10 points). Our son will be circumcised and vaccinated (-15 points). We do not plan to have him sleeping in the bed with us (-5 points). But are we are on our way to earning our Hippie Parents badge? I think we could be...
The truth is, though, that we do have some secret hippie tendencies, and I think we are leaning even more in that direction now that we have a baby on board. You might have guessed this if you read the post where I talked about reading Raising Baby Green. We've been pretty firmly on the organic food wagon for a while, but now there's the whole world of non-toxic toys and organic baby clothes to think about, too. (Organic baby clothes are pretty expensive, though, so I'm planning to just wash all of Doctor's little outfits in vinegar a few times, which is supposed to strip a lot of the chemicals. And no, I don't have a scientific study to back that up.)
There are a couple of pretty big decisions we've made recently that might place us on Team Hippie. Both of these choices have already gotten some strong reactions from people (positive and negative), so maybe I'm asking for it by advertising them to an even wider audience, but here goes.
First, I never thought I'd say this, but I'm going to TRY to give birth without any medication. Key word being "try." As my mom pointed out the other day, I'm a little less than excellent with pain. And Jeromy can tell you that the last time I had some kind of 24-hour flu (about a week before our wedding) I kept insisting that having even a sheet over me made my skin hurt unbearably, and that I was almost definitely dying. So it's entirely possible that when I'm actually in the delivery room, I'll start slapping anyone who dares to come near me without a big fat epidural needle. We'll see. I certainly don't think epidurals are bad and evil; I just think they're kind of scary and have some potential risks and downsides.
So, as I've mentioned before, one step that we're taking to help with the no-medication/no-Rebecca-punching-people plan is hiring a doula. Well, actually, several doulas. We signed up with a doula collective, which means that the specific doula we have at the labor will depend on who is "on call" when it happens. I've tried to explain to a few people exactly what a doula does, and I'm sure I'm not doing the best job of it, but this is what my understanding is. Basically, a doula's purpose is to help make the labor as comfortable as possible for the mother, and to take some of the pressure off the father in terms of coaching, decision-making, etc. They come to the hospital with their secret earth mother birthing wisdom, and bring magical doula tools with them, like heat packs and a birthing ball. Which I think is just one of the big exercise balls, but still, it's supposed to help. When we went to the "Meet the Doulas Night" back in December, they had a couple who had recently delivered with a doula there as guest speakers. When the mom described the doula rubbing her back (to counter the pressure of her contractions) for NINE HOURS, I was ready to write a big fat check then and there. Jeromy can rub my back for about four minutes before his hands get tired. He'd be in the corner whimpering in pain by the time they got me hooked up to the monitors. Hence, the doulas are going to be our new BFFs.
The other hippie decision we've made is to try to use cloth diapers. I know it sounds a little crazy, and it's something else that I never thought I'd go for. Cloth diapers have come a long way since the white squares that had to be origami-folded around your baby and pinned, though. They now basically look and work like cloth versions of regular diapers. Again, I'm totally NOT judging people who use disposable diapers; I'm sure we will be using them when we're not at home. But from what I've read, there are some advantages to cloth diapers--fewer rashes and "blow-outs" (eww), easier potty-training, etc. Plus, it actually ends up being quite a bit cheaper in the long run. And look how cute they are!
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| This one is from a brand called Fuzzibunz... |
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| ...probably because they are, you know, fuzzy on the inside |
***GEMS FROM JEROMY***
After waiting for me to finish getting settled in bed with my poufy comforter and body pillow: "Look how much space you're taking up already! Pretty soon I'm going to need a co-sleeper just for my butt so I don't fall off the bed."
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| This is a co-sleeper, for those of you who don't know what one looks like....just imagine Jeromy's backside instead of the baby. |
Wednesday, February 2, 2011
Fetal math lessons and an extended car metaphor (Warning: contains moderate to high pregnant lady whining)
As of Saturday, I am officially six months pregnant! Baby Boy Smith is due to arrive in about four months!
And yes, if you are checking my math, I do realize that adds up to ten months, not nine. A lot of people don't know (I certainly didn't) that they actually calculate your due date as being at 40 weeks of pregnancy, although they do start counting two weeks before you actually get pregnant. It's hard to explain, but I can tell you that the whole counting system makes Jeromy very suspicious of the obstetrical profession.
Anyway, here is what's going on with Doctor and I this point:
According to the books, our little guy now weighs between a pound and a pound and a half, and is almost a foot long! It certainly feels like he's getting huge; I'll feel a kick on one side of my stomach right before a punch all the way on the other side. And then, sometimes, I'd swear that he's just sitting in there head-butting me repeatedly.
At certain times of the day when Doctor is really going nutty, I can lay down and watch my stomach ripple and jump around, which on a Weird Scale of 1 through 10, rates about a 12. I honestly had no idea you could ever see babies move this much...it looks like there is an alien trying to use my belly button as an escape hatch or something. I try to make Jeromy sit and watch my stomach like it's better than an episode of 30 Rock, but apparently Doctor is a contrary little fetus, because he usually stops when he has an audience. We are going to have to work on the whole "following parental requests" thing, stat.
Also according to the books, Doctor should now be able to hear our voices and loud noises like the vacuum, the dog barking, etc. I read that babies who hear classical music regularly while they are in the womb do better in math, so I'm trying to listen to the classical station for 30 or so minutes a day. It's pretty boring, and I got a serious eye roll from Jeromy on this one, but whatever. He's good at math so he doesn't really understand. If a little less Lady Gaga and a little more Beethoven might prevent my kid from crying in his calculus professor's office every day for an entire semester like his mother did, then I'll give it a shot.
Apparently the food that I eat from now on will help shape Doctor's eating preferences, so we've been trying to eat important stuff like kale and mint cookies 'n cream ice cream and Indian food. Let's hope it works; if this child doesn't like spicy stuff Jeromy will definitely spend the next 18 years giving him disappointed looks across the dinner table.
Now here's where some whining begins...
I have to say a little surprised by the overall discomfort of pregnancy. I do feel a ton better now than I did during the first trimester, but I am not about to describe the second trimester as being "magical" like some women apparently do. I was telling Jeromy yesterday that it's kind of like having your car in the shop for a while, and having to drive around a rental that sort of looks like your car, but is much less comfortable and doesn't work as well. This rental car is slower and bigger and needs to pull over at rest stops a lot. Plus you know deep down inside that when you get your car back, it's probably never going to be the same as it was before. But I guess at least this rental car is taking me on a really exciting and important journey. I know that's completely cheesy, but it does make me feel a little better.
I do seem to be having a bit of "pregnancy brain," which is another weird symptom. Apparently growing a human hogs a bunch of brain cells or something; I feel like I have developed A.D.D. The other day I was in the middle of reaching to get something for Jeromy, and I got distracted by something else and picked it up instead. Poor Jeromy thought I had just decided to ignore him. I also keep turning the wrong way out of the neighborhood, so if I'm late meeting you somewhere, that's probably why.
I also think I'm getting carpal tunnel syndrome. Oh, but that couldn't possibly be pregnancy-related, you say? But it is. Supposedly 30% of women get it. Again, NOT something that is well-publicized in any kind of "So You Want to Have a Baby" brochure. Probably because it sucks.
My biggest problem (and my last complaint, I swear!) is the having-to-pee-ALL-THE-TIME thing. It is RIDICULOUS. Anytime I leave the house these days, I have to plan out my route and stops based on available bathrooms. And, as some of you may know, I HATE using public restrooms. Which makes it especially unfortunate that I've probably had to use more public bathrooms in the last month than I have in the last ten years combined. I feel like I should probably write a book called The Pregnant Lady's Guide to Austin's Public Bathrooms ("Bee Caves Target: usually needs to be cleaned, frequently out of paper towels. North Babies 'R Us: small, cramped, dirty floor, but does have yummy-smelling Bath & Body Works Soap.")
And yes, if you are checking my math, I do realize that adds up to ten months, not nine. A lot of people don't know (I certainly didn't) that they actually calculate your due date as being at 40 weeks of pregnancy, although they do start counting two weeks before you actually get pregnant. It's hard to explain, but I can tell you that the whole counting system makes Jeromy very suspicious of the obstetrical profession.
Anyway, here is what's going on with Doctor and I this point:
According to the books, our little guy now weighs between a pound and a pound and a half, and is almost a foot long! It certainly feels like he's getting huge; I'll feel a kick on one side of my stomach right before a punch all the way on the other side. And then, sometimes, I'd swear that he's just sitting in there head-butting me repeatedly.
At certain times of the day when Doctor is really going nutty, I can lay down and watch my stomach ripple and jump around, which on a Weird Scale of 1 through 10, rates about a 12. I honestly had no idea you could ever see babies move this much...it looks like there is an alien trying to use my belly button as an escape hatch or something. I try to make Jeromy sit and watch my stomach like it's better than an episode of 30 Rock, but apparently Doctor is a contrary little fetus, because he usually stops when he has an audience. We are going to have to work on the whole "following parental requests" thing, stat.
Also according to the books, Doctor should now be able to hear our voices and loud noises like the vacuum, the dog barking, etc. I read that babies who hear classical music regularly while they are in the womb do better in math, so I'm trying to listen to the classical station for 30 or so minutes a day. It's pretty boring, and I got a serious eye roll from Jeromy on this one, but whatever. He's good at math so he doesn't really understand. If a little less Lady Gaga and a little more Beethoven might prevent my kid from crying in his calculus professor's office every day for an entire semester like his mother did, then I'll give it a shot.
Apparently the food that I eat from now on will help shape Doctor's eating preferences, so we've been trying to eat important stuff like kale and mint cookies 'n cream ice cream and Indian food. Let's hope it works; if this child doesn't like spicy stuff Jeromy will definitely spend the next 18 years giving him disappointed looks across the dinner table.
Now here's where some whining begins...
I have to say a little surprised by the overall discomfort of pregnancy. I do feel a ton better now than I did during the first trimester, but I am not about to describe the second trimester as being "magical" like some women apparently do. I was telling Jeromy yesterday that it's kind of like having your car in the shop for a while, and having to drive around a rental that sort of looks like your car, but is much less comfortable and doesn't work as well. This rental car is slower and bigger and needs to pull over at rest stops a lot. Plus you know deep down inside that when you get your car back, it's probably never going to be the same as it was before. But I guess at least this rental car is taking me on a really exciting and important journey. I know that's completely cheesy, but it does make me feel a little better.
I do seem to be having a bit of "pregnancy brain," which is another weird symptom. Apparently growing a human hogs a bunch of brain cells or something; I feel like I have developed A.D.D. The other day I was in the middle of reaching to get something for Jeromy, and I got distracted by something else and picked it up instead. Poor Jeromy thought I had just decided to ignore him. I also keep turning the wrong way out of the neighborhood, so if I'm late meeting you somewhere, that's probably why.
I also think I'm getting carpal tunnel syndrome. Oh, but that couldn't possibly be pregnancy-related, you say? But it is. Supposedly 30% of women get it. Again, NOT something that is well-publicized in any kind of "So You Want to Have a Baby" brochure. Probably because it sucks.
My biggest problem (and my last complaint, I swear!) is the having-to-pee-ALL-THE-TIME thing. It is RIDICULOUS. Anytime I leave the house these days, I have to plan out my route and stops based on available bathrooms. And, as some of you may know, I HATE using public restrooms. Which makes it especially unfortunate that I've probably had to use more public bathrooms in the last month than I have in the last ten years combined. I feel like I should probably write a book called The Pregnant Lady's Guide to Austin's Public Bathrooms ("Bee Caves Target: usually needs to be cleaned, frequently out of paper towels. North Babies 'R Us: small, cramped, dirty floor, but does have yummy-smelling Bath & Body Works Soap.")
***Gems from Jeromy***
Today's Gem from Jeromy is in the form of a picture of my dignified husband modeling the hooded towel that Grandma and Grandpa Smith sent to Doctor:
Priceless, right?
Monday, January 31, 2011
Baby's First Intervention
Dear Baby Boy (a.k.a. Doctor):
I know how much you enjoy shopping for your chic-but-manly little baby clothes, because you are stylish and metro like that. I enjoy it too, especially since it's less expensive and way more coo-inducing than shopping for maternity clothes. But I think we better cool it for a while, or Dad is going to take away our credit card. And then we'd have to stay home and do boring stuff. Like cleaning.
Love, Mom
I know how much you enjoy shopping for your chic-but-manly little baby clothes, because you are stylish and metro like that. I enjoy it too, especially since it's less expensive and way more coo-inducing than shopping for maternity clothes. But I think we better cool it for a while, or Dad is going to take away our credit card. And then we'd have to stay home and do boring stuff. Like cleaning.
Love, Mom
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| The Closet of Cuteness |
Monday, January 24, 2011
The pros and cons of procreating with an enginerd, and the only reason I'd ever say "Take the gun. Leave the cannoli."
Jeromy deserves a husband medal of honor after this weekend....we took a couple of trips into town in order to do our baby registries and to look for some nursery furniture. Like most guys, Jeromy does not love shopping. He'd rather be playing video games, or probably even washing the dishes. But Jeromy especially does not love shopping with his pregnant wife who feels compelled to spend hours examining the flaws and features of diaper bags and car seats, but who also whines about back pain and has to take a pee break ever 10-25 minutes.
I knew the whole situation was going to make him grumpy. I even stopped in at the baby store the day before to ask when was the least crowded time to come in and register without too much hassle.
Saleslady: "Well, the best time to come in is definitely during a UT football game."
Me: "Ummm....isn't the season over for this year?"
Saleslady: "Oh, I guess so."
Me: "Yeah.....my baby is due in May. This does not help me."
When we did go in, I wanted Jeromy to mainly focus on the more technical baby stuff that has to be assembled and plugged in and all that business. So I led Jeromy to the infant swings.
Me: "Ok, so you need to look at these and figure out which ones are good and which ones are crappy."
Jeromy: "Umm, I can't really tell that just by looking at them."
Me: "Well, I know, we should try them out and play with them and all that."
Jeromy: [after messing with a few] "I don't know. I can't really tell."
Me: [giving him the special wifely look that says that I'm having a mental floor-kicking hissy fit] "What do you MEAN you don't know?! You're an ELECTRICAL ENGINEER."
I do think I deserve some credit for not making him look at the breast pumps though.
Some other baby gear shopping Gems from Jeromy:
Me: "We should probably get one of these rubber duckies that changes color if the bath water is too hot."
Jeromy: "Nah, don't put that on the list. We can just use my infrared thermometer."
Me: "Umm, ok."
Me: "Janet sent me a link to a one-day deal on the video monitor they bought. It looks pretty good, so I was going to go ahead and get one."
Jeromy: "No, don't buy one yet. Let me do some research. We might be able to set up a system where we can watch the baby on our iPhones."
Me: "Umm, ok."
I have to admit that I was really excited about registering. And not just because it helped to satisfy my intense get-ready-for-this-baby-by-finding-the-perfect-baby-products nesting urge. I also got the fulfill my long-held desire to use.....the registry gun.
I have no explanation for why I'm so fascinated by these; I'm not THAT into technology gadgets, and I'm certainly not a fan of guns. When we got married, we registered for our honeymoon and a set of handmade pottery dishes rather than the typical stuff, which I don't regret for a second, but I was a little sad not to get to use the gun. Especially after I found out that Crate & Barrel does special registry events with champagne and hors d'oeuvres. Yes, please. I am still tempted to make Jeromy to take off his wedding band and go with me to pretend to be my brother and his fiance and register for them while they are out of the country. I'd have to skip the champagne, and we might get some awkward "oooohh, you got pregnant and now you have to get married" looks, but I would still get to use the gun and eat finger food!
Anyway, I finally got to use a couple of registry guns this weekend, and it was pretty fantastic.
In other news, I have updated the
page, so check it out and give some advice if you are interested!
I knew the whole situation was going to make him grumpy. I even stopped in at the baby store the day before to ask when was the least crowded time to come in and register without too much hassle.
Saleslady: "Well, the best time to come in is definitely during a UT football game."
Me: "Ummm....isn't the season over for this year?"
Saleslady: "Oh, I guess so."
Me: "Yeah.....my baby is due in May. This does not help me."
When we did go in, I wanted Jeromy to mainly focus on the more technical baby stuff that has to be assembled and plugged in and all that business. So I led Jeromy to the infant swings.
Me: "Ok, so you need to look at these and figure out which ones are good and which ones are crappy."
Jeromy: "Umm, I can't really tell that just by looking at them."
Me: "Well, I know, we should try them out and play with them and all that."
Jeromy: [after messing with a few] "I don't know. I can't really tell."
Me: [giving him the special wifely look that says that I'm having a mental floor-kicking hissy fit] "What do you MEAN you don't know?! You're an ELECTRICAL ENGINEER."
I do think I deserve some credit for not making him look at the breast pumps though.
Some other baby gear shopping Gems from Jeromy:
Me: "We should probably get one of these rubber duckies that changes color if the bath water is too hot."
Jeromy: "Nah, don't put that on the list. We can just use my infrared thermometer."
Me: "Umm, ok."
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| Jeromy posing with his infrared thermometer on Christmas morning. |
Jeromy: "No, don't buy one yet. Let me do some research. We might be able to set up a system where we can watch the baby on our iPhones."
Me: "Umm, ok."
I have to admit that I was really excited about registering. And not just because it helped to satisfy my intense get-ready-for-this-baby-by-finding-the-perfect-baby-products nesting urge. I also got the fulfill my long-held desire to use.....the registry gun.
I have no explanation for why I'm so fascinated by these; I'm not THAT into technology gadgets, and I'm certainly not a fan of guns. When we got married, we registered for our honeymoon and a set of handmade pottery dishes rather than the typical stuff, which I don't regret for a second, but I was a little sad not to get to use the gun. Especially after I found out that Crate & Barrel does special registry events with champagne and hors d'oeuvres. Yes, please. I am still tempted to make Jeromy to take off his wedding band and go with me to pretend to be my brother and his fiance and register for them while they are out of the country. I'd have to skip the champagne, and we might get some awkward "oooohh, you got pregnant and now you have to get married" looks, but I would still get to use the gun and eat finger food!
Anyway, I finally got to use a couple of registry guns this weekend, and it was pretty fantastic.
In other news, I have updated the
Monday, January 17, 2011
My patented baby-naming method for the ridiculously obsessive
5-10 Years Prior to Conception: Begin keeping a mental list of names you like. Oh, and find a spouse to have babies with.
2.5 Years Prior to Conception: Work on naming your puppy, and agonize over which names to keep off the list because you MIGHT want to use them for a human child someday.
6 Months Prior to Conception: Begin keeping a typed list of baby names on your iPhone. Go back and forth between excitedly sharing the list with every person who walks by and suspiciously hiding the list from anyone who looks like they might be remotely close to childbearing age.
1 Month After Conception: Buy a baby name book, download baby name app, and bookmark baby name websites. Begin adding and subtracting names from your master list. Remind yourself to spend equal time looking at names for both genders.
4 Months After Conception: Harass your husband into looking at name lists for the first time, even though he doesn't want to spend time on it until finding out the baby's gender. Pout when your husband quickly vetoes some of the names you like.
4.5 Months After Conception: Realize that you are 99% sure which female name you would choose if the baby is a girl. Feel smug.
5 Months After Conception: Find out that you are having a boy. Lose feeling of smugness. Make your husband study and talk about the boy name list within one hour of the ultrasound. That night, threaten to lock your husband in a dark cellar until he reads through the entire baby name book. Begin stalking the Social Security website to look at and record name popularity rankings for the last 10 years. Rant at the SSA for not releasing the 2010 rankings until May. Fail to get a full night's sleep because you are obsessing.
5 Months and 1 Day After Conception: Send a list of names to immediate family members with strict feedback instructions:
Carefully record the results as the e-mails come in.
5 Months and 2-5 Days After Conception: Write out each potential name with middle and last name; examine the initials for each name. Discuss possible associations and unfortunate nicknames for each name. Suddenly realize that while Will/William--which has been on your list for months--is a great name, "Will Smith" will cause people to make Fresh Prince of Bel Air allusions until you want to cry. Cross it off the list.
5 Months and 6-10 Days After Conception: Google "[possible first name] Smith" for each option to see if there are any serial killers or other horrible people by that name. Walk around everywhere clutching the name list like a security blankie.
5 Months and 12 Days After Conception: Grudgingly cross three of your favorite names off the list because your husband has vetoed them: Shane, because he has a negative association with the name, Quinn, because it would"always remind [him] of Dr. Quinn Medicine Woman," and Rory, because "it sounds like a drunken slur, " which he exaggeratedly demonstrates ("Raaaaawwwwwwwrrrrrrryyyy") every time you mention it. Pout even more. Go back and forth between eliminating names and adding new names to the list.
5 Months and 14 Days After Conception: Get the name list fairly narrowed down, and realize that there does seem to be a front-runner. Feel glad that you and your husband and family members all like it, but lie awake worrying that the name is too high on the popularity list. Wail that you don't want your precious child to have to go by "[first name] S." throughout his entire school career just because there are four other [first name]s in his class. Curse all of the other parents out there who have the audacity to like the same name.
5 months and 16 Days After Conception: Throw up your hands and decide to wait on finalizing for a few more weeks until after your two cousins have their baby boys and name them, just in case one of them is thinking along the same lines you are.
So that's pretty much where we are now. Are you exhausted just reading about all of this obsessiveness? You definitely should be.
Sorry that we don't have any name news yet, BUT....as you may or may not have noticed at the top of the blog, I have added a "Pimp Our Nursery" Page! Check it out if you are all interested in being a part of our nursery decorating dilemmas.
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| Sign on the dotted line if you agree to be my Baby Daddy |
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| Fur Baby |
1 Month After Conception: Buy a baby name book, download baby name app, and bookmark baby name websites. Begin adding and subtracting names from your master list. Remind yourself to spend equal time looking at names for both genders.
4 Months After Conception: Harass your husband into looking at name lists for the first time, even though he doesn't want to spend time on it until finding out the baby's gender. Pout when your husband quickly vetoes some of the names you like.
4.5 Months After Conception: Realize that you are 99% sure which female name you would choose if the baby is a girl. Feel smug.
5 Months After Conception: Find out that you are having a boy. Lose feeling of smugness. Make your husband study and talk about the boy name list within one hour of the ultrasound. That night, threaten to lock your husband in a dark cellar until he reads through the entire baby name book. Begin stalking the Social Security website to look at and record name popularity rankings for the last 10 years. Rant at the SSA for not releasing the 2010 rankings until May. Fail to get a full night's sleep because you are obsessing.
5 Months and 1 Day After Conception: Send a list of names to immediate family members with strict feedback instructions:
Ok, I think we are ready for some name input.
We would like to know if you:
-LOVE any of these names and want to vote for them
-really HATE any of these names and would be horrified if we used them
-can think of some horrible nickname that might be associated with any of these names
-know of a serial killer or famous person associated with any of these names
We are open to hearing your thoughts and opinions, but be a little gentle; we could still pick any of these. We would prefer that you NOT vote against a name just because YOU personally have encountered someone that you didn't like who has it. But, you know more than one unpleasant person with the same name and think it's a trend, you can tell us. For instance, a lot of my teacher friends swear that every Mason they've had as a student has been out of control.
The number next to the name is it's popularity rank in 2009. (2010 ranks are not available yet)
We look forward to hearing from you!We would like to know if you:
-LOVE any of these names and want to vote for them
-really HATE any of these names and would be horrified if we used them
-can think of some horrible nickname that might be associated with any of these names
-know of a serial killer or famous person associated with any of these names
We are open to hearing your thoughts and opinions, but be a little gentle; we could still pick any of these. We would prefer that you NOT vote against a name just because YOU personally have encountered someone that you didn't like who has it. But, you know more than one unpleasant person with the same name and think it's a trend, you can tell us. For instance, a lot of my teacher friends swear that every Mason they've had as a student has been out of control.
The number next to the name is it's popularity rank in 2009. (2010 ranks are not available yet)
Carefully record the results as the e-mails come in.
5 Months and 2-5 Days After Conception: Write out each potential name with middle and last name; examine the initials for each name. Discuss possible associations and unfortunate nicknames for each name. Suddenly realize that while Will/William--which has been on your list for months--is a great name, "Will Smith" will cause people to make Fresh Prince of Bel Air allusions until you want to cry. Cross it off the list.
5 Months and 6-10 Days After Conception: Google "[possible first name] Smith" for each option to see if there are any serial killers or other horrible people by that name. Walk around everywhere clutching the name list like a security blankie.
5 Months and 12 Days After Conception: Grudgingly cross three of your favorite names off the list because your husband has vetoed them: Shane, because he has a negative association with the name, Quinn, because it would"always remind [him] of Dr. Quinn Medicine Woman," and Rory, because "it sounds like a drunken slur, " which he exaggeratedly demonstrates ("Raaaaawwwwwwwrrrrrrryyyy") every time you mention it. Pout even more. Go back and forth between eliminating names and adding new names to the list.
5 Months and 14 Days After Conception: Get the name list fairly narrowed down, and realize that there does seem to be a front-runner. Feel glad that you and your husband and family members all like it, but lie awake worrying that the name is too high on the popularity list. Wail that you don't want your precious child to have to go by "[first name] S." throughout his entire school career just because there are four other [first name]s in his class. Curse all of the other parents out there who have the audacity to like the same name.
5 months and 16 Days After Conception: Throw up your hands and decide to wait on finalizing for a few more weeks until after your two cousins have their baby boys and name them, just in case one of them is thinking along the same lines you are.
So that's pretty much where we are now. Are you exhausted just reading about all of this obsessiveness? You definitely should be.
Sorry that we don't have any name news yet, BUT....as you may or may not have noticed at the top of the blog, I have added a "Pimp Our Nursery" Page! Check it out if you are all interested in being a part of our nursery decorating dilemmas.
Saturday, January 15, 2011
The Cuteness of Baby Stuff Compels You, Part Deux
I'm not sure if anyone can possibly be quite as excited as I am by pictures of baby gifts and purchases, but since *I* am The Great Hormonal Empress of This Blog, we are going to look at some more of them. Deal.
Since Jeromy had taken the whole day off work for the big ultrasound, we drove up to Round Rock afterward (without even going into Ikea--how strong am I???) to go to the Baby Earth store, which was pretty neat. Baby Earth is mostly an online retailer, but they are based in Austin, so they have a store in front of their warehouse. The lady there was really helpful and spent probably almost an hour talking to us about strollers and cloth diapers and baby carriers. I so wish we had taken pictures of us trying out the different baby carriers with their ten-pound fake baby, which she called "creepy baby" and definitely looked like it had hit the floor a few times. I have to say that I think it bodes well for our parenting skills that neither Jeromy nor I dropped that sucker.
Anyway, here is the super-soft, organic, soy-dyed outfit that Jeromy and I bought to celebrate finding out the Doctor is a He-Baby:
We also got an e-mail that weekend from my brother, who sent a picture of an adorable bib that they had bought "for the good Doctor" in Laos.
That's right, booties from Nepal, a bib from Laos; this fetus is going to be a sophisticated, jet-setting baby of the world, obviously. I am envisioning this bib as not so much catching spit-up or half-chewed carrot mush, but more like in a shadow box on the nursery wall along with a picture of Uncle Travis and Aunt Victoria on their travels. Too cute.
Then, last weekend Jeromy and I went out to see my parents in Mason, and had lunch with my aunt and uncle, who really helped to add to Doctor's library!
Goodnight Moon was my FAVORITE when I was little, an The Very Hungry Catepillar is a classic! They also gave Doctor a precious and sweet totally manly little organic dog rattle.
Finally, one of my awesome teacher friends, who is a mommy herself, gave us some of her favorite, tried-and-true things:
She also gave us these:
Jeromy and I had actually seen these in the store and thought they were really cute (me) and hilarious (Jeromy). My friend must have known that one of my biggest having-a-boy fears centered around Unauthorized Pee Spraying (UPS) during diaper changes. Crisis averted!
Since Jeromy had taken the whole day off work for the big ultrasound, we drove up to Round Rock afterward (without even going into Ikea--how strong am I???) to go to the Baby Earth store, which was pretty neat. Baby Earth is mostly an online retailer, but they are based in Austin, so they have a store in front of their warehouse. The lady there was really helpful and spent probably almost an hour talking to us about strollers and cloth diapers and baby carriers. I so wish we had taken pictures of us trying out the different baby carriers with their ten-pound fake baby, which she called "creepy baby" and definitely looked like it had hit the floor a few times. I have to say that I think it bodes well for our parenting skills that neither Jeromy nor I dropped that sucker.
Anyway, here is the super-soft, organic, soy-dyed outfit that Jeromy and I bought to celebrate finding out the Doctor is a He-Baby:
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| What? It's TOTALLY masculine. |
 |
| See?! |
Then, last weekend Jeromy and I went out to see my parents in Mason, and had lunch with my aunt and uncle, who really helped to add to Doctor's library!
Finally, one of my awesome teacher friends, who is a mommy herself, gave us some of her favorite, tried-and-true things:
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| No-scratch mittens, a super-soft hat, and another great book! |
 |
| !!!!!!!!!! |
Wednesday, January 12, 2011
Torture by churros, abuse of parking privileges, and why Goodwill LOVES me
So I'm feeling a little behind on my blog-posting and e-mailing, but it's for a good cause; my mom has been in town helping me organize the house. Because, hello, my name is Rebecca, and I have a clutter problem. Mostly because: A) I have a hard time letting things go, and B) I'm really indecisive about where to put things. My mom, on the other hand, is a hard-core organizer, and has no trouble getting rid of things (except her clothes from the 80s, but we won't go there). She's helped me go through and organize or get rid of a TON of stuff. Like, CAR-FULLS of stuff. I feel like from now on, Goodwill is going to see my car pull up and automatically send out a U-haul to help me unload.
You should see all of the stuff that I have not only kept for years and years, but have also moved 3 or 4 times. Here is just a sampling of what we have come across:
So that's a big part of what I'm up to these days. I also spent half of Monday sitting around at Costco waiting for my car tire to get fixed. Apparently in Costco Land, "It might take up to an hour and a half, just to let you know" ACTUALLY means, "It will take just over three hours, and we aren't even going to apologize for it." I was about 2.5 minutes away from throwing a tearful "I am PREGNANT, and I CANNOT SIT HERE in your windowless, flourescent-lit cafe smelling the hot dogs ANY MORE, so give me my car back, and I will pull out the screw and slap on some Duct Tape MYSELF" fit when they finally called my name. The worst part, though, was NOT buying one of their churros. Churros are delicious, and I wanted one REALLY badly, but I was strong and resisted!
Rebecca and her emergency baggie of organic cheerios: 1. Churros: 0.
In other news, Jeromy and I went on a little baby gear shopping expedition recently:
You should see all of the stuff that I have not only kept for years and years, but have also moved 3 or 4 times. Here is just a sampling of what we have come across:
- Every academic paper I have ever written
- My entire set of notes from A.P. U.S. History and several other classes
- All of the statements from my college bank account
- All of our leftover wedding invitations, including the envelopes and response cards
- A birthday card that my brother gave to me when he was just learning to write
- Matchbooks from restaurants in France that I went to with my grandparents after I graduated from high school
So that's a big part of what I'm up to these days. I also spent half of Monday sitting around at Costco waiting for my car tire to get fixed. Apparently in Costco Land, "It might take up to an hour and a half, just to let you know" ACTUALLY means, "It will take just over three hours, and we aren't even going to apologize for it." I was about 2.5 minutes away from throwing a tearful "I am PREGNANT, and I CANNOT SIT HERE in your windowless, flourescent-lit cafe smelling the hot dogs ANY MORE, so give me my car back, and I will pull out the screw and slap on some Duct Tape MYSELF" fit when they finally called my name. The worst part, though, was NOT buying one of their churros. Churros are delicious, and I wanted one REALLY badly, but I was strong and resisted!
Rebecca and her emergency baggie of organic cheerios: 1. Churros: 0.
In other news, Jeromy and I went on a little baby gear shopping expedition recently:
 |
| Why yes, we WILL use the preferential parking, thank you. |
 |
| Jeromy trying to figure out how to put on a baby carrier. There was only a little bit of swearing involved. |
***GEMS FROM JEROMY***
"Did you see the Regretsy post today? Screw the Baby Bjorn, just get me a Daddle!"
Wednesday, January 5, 2011
Situation #457 in which I did not handle awkwardness well
As promised, here is my Awkward Doctor's Office Story. Now that I read over it, it doesn't sound quite as dramatic as I though it would, but let me assure you that it was pretty awful at the time.
Last week for my OBGYN appointment, I had to go to the practice's second location--a much smaller office attached to the hospital-- for the first time. After I checked in, the receptionist directed me down a hallway to do the usual urine sample. I couldn't really tell which door was the bathroom, so when I came to the nurses' station, I asked the woman there--who had her back to me--where the bathroom was. So she turned around. And she was NOT what I would call a woman; more like a girl. A girl who was ONE OF MY FORMER STUDENTS, to be exact. By the time my brain had processed this, though, I was down the hall and in the bathroom. Well that's kind of weird, I thought, maybe her mom is a nurse and she's just here helping out or something. I couldn't remember exactly which year she had been in my class, but I knew that she was in the graduating class of 2010 at the oldest. I wondered if she had recognized me, and felt a little bad that I hadn't said anything to her. Awkward.
I went back to the waiting room until it was my turn to be called back by the nurse. Only, as I'm sure you can guess, it wasn't a nurse. It was my former student. Who was suddenly asking me to step up on the scale! Why yes, I have gained some weight since it was recorded at my last appointment, thank you for noticing. So then I was flustered and had no idea when or how to say something along the lines of "yeah, hi, remember me? Your freshman English teacher? Read any good books lately?"
And then of course we went into the exam room and the awkwardness continued to escalate, with her asking me all the usual personal questions and typing my answers into the computer.
Her: "Are you having any [gross symptom], [weird symptom], [bad symptom], [uncomfortable symptom]?
Me: Not really, no, no, sometimes.
My brain: REALLY?? We're doing this?? How old are you now?? WHAT are you doing here?? There hasn't been TIME for you to go to nursing school! Do you actually know how to use that stethoscope around your neck??
She took my blood pressure, which was a little high. Well, obviously!! I used to grade your papers and tell you to quit talking during our discussions over The Odyssey! So she made me lay on my side for a minute until it went down. Great, no problem. My former students see me curled up on exam tables all the time.
And THEN, she told me pull down the top of my maternity pants. Yes. And then she squirted a huge pile of goo on my bare stomach and used the Doppler to find the baby's heartbeat. Now, I do have to give her some credit; she found the heartbeat WAY faster than the nurse at the other place ever had. But still. Partial nudity in front of student!!
It was all over pretty quickly; she soon left the room and my doctor came in for our monthly chit chat/stomach groping. I started feeling like a jerk for not saying something to the student, who had always been very sweet in class. I mean, I'm pretty sure she knew who I was, and maybe even knew that I knew who she was. But I think we were both trying to avoid the awkwardness by pretending to be total strangers.
I know that people who have been teaching for 20+ years see their grown-up students fairly frequently. But I only taught for 5 years, and I taught 9TH GRADERS. You know, the ones who have just been release from middle school. I see former students around town, sure, but it's always when they are giggling in the mall or at the grocery store with their moms. NOT handling charts in an OBGYN office.
As I left the office, I wondered how many other former students were going to hear about the encounter. I assume that she was probably bound by some form of doctor/patient confidentiality, but who knows. The story of knocked-up Mrs. Smith with her jeans pulled down on an exam table might have been pretty tempting to spread all over Facebook.
I ALSO realized that I had only seen three people working in the office: the receptionist, my doctor, and the student. So WHO do you think dealt with the urine sample??!! %$^#$#.
So what did I learn from this experience?
P.S. Did someone forward my last post to Doctor in utero? Because I am getting kicked like CRAZY! Jeromy even got to feel it for the first time last night...yay!
Last week for my OBGYN appointment, I had to go to the practice's second location--a much smaller office attached to the hospital-- for the first time. After I checked in, the receptionist directed me down a hallway to do the usual urine sample. I couldn't really tell which door was the bathroom, so when I came to the nurses' station, I asked the woman there--who had her back to me--where the bathroom was. So she turned around. And she was NOT what I would call a woman; more like a girl. A girl who was ONE OF MY FORMER STUDENTS, to be exact. By the time my brain had processed this, though, I was down the hall and in the bathroom. Well that's kind of weird, I thought, maybe her mom is a nurse and she's just here helping out or something. I couldn't remember exactly which year she had been in my class, but I knew that she was in the graduating class of 2010 at the oldest. I wondered if she had recognized me, and felt a little bad that I hadn't said anything to her. Awkward.
I went back to the waiting room until it was my turn to be called back by the nurse. Only, as I'm sure you can guess, it wasn't a nurse. It was my former student. Who was suddenly asking me to step up on the scale! Why yes, I have gained some weight since it was recorded at my last appointment, thank you for noticing. So then I was flustered and had no idea when or how to say something along the lines of "yeah, hi, remember me? Your freshman English teacher? Read any good books lately?"
And then of course we went into the exam room and the awkwardness continued to escalate, with her asking me all the usual personal questions and typing my answers into the computer.
Her: "Are you having any [gross symptom], [weird symptom], [bad symptom], [uncomfortable symptom]?
Me: Not really, no, no, sometimes.
My brain: REALLY?? We're doing this?? How old are you now?? WHAT are you doing here?? There hasn't been TIME for you to go to nursing school! Do you actually know how to use that stethoscope around your neck??
She took my blood pressure, which was a little high. Well, obviously!! I used to grade your papers and tell you to quit talking during our discussions over The Odyssey! So she made me lay on my side for a minute until it went down. Great, no problem. My former students see me curled up on exam tables all the time.
And THEN, she told me pull down the top of my maternity pants. Yes. And then she squirted a huge pile of goo on my bare stomach and used the Doppler to find the baby's heartbeat. Now, I do have to give her some credit; she found the heartbeat WAY faster than the nurse at the other place ever had. But still. Partial nudity in front of student!!
It was all over pretty quickly; she soon left the room and my doctor came in for our monthly chit chat/stomach groping. I started feeling like a jerk for not saying something to the student, who had always been very sweet in class. I mean, I'm pretty sure she knew who I was, and maybe even knew that I knew who she was. But I think we were both trying to avoid the awkwardness by pretending to be total strangers.
I know that people who have been teaching for 20+ years see their grown-up students fairly frequently. But I only taught for 5 years, and I taught 9TH GRADERS. You know, the ones who have just been release from middle school. I see former students around town, sure, but it's always when they are giggling in the mall or at the grocery store with their moms. NOT handling charts in an OBGYN office.
As I left the office, I wondered how many other former students were going to hear about the encounter. I assume that she was probably bound by some form of doctor/patient confidentiality, but who knows. The story of knocked-up Mrs. Smith with her jeans pulled down on an exam table might have been pretty tempting to spread all over Facebook.
I ALSO realized that I had only seen three people working in the office: the receptionist, my doctor, and the student. So WHO do you think dealt with the urine sample??!! %$^#$#.
So what did I learn from this experience?
- Apparently the people who weigh you and take your blood pressure and all that do not have to be full-fledged nurses. They can be just a few years past 9th grade "their, they're, there" grammar lessons.
- Awkwardness makes me have high blood pressure and need to lay down. I'm sure we are all shocked by this.
- Always make an appointment to see the doctor at the other office. ALWAYS.
P.S. Did someone forward my last post to Doctor in utero? Because I am getting kicked like CRAZY! Jeromy even got to feel it for the first time last night...yay!
***GEMS FROM JEROMY***
Upon seeing me come home from Target with a baby outfit:
Jeromy: [eye roll] It's like you decided since you can't really shop for clothes for yourself right now, you've decided to shop for someone who doesn't exist.
Me: I can't BELIEVE you said that! Doctor totally exists!!!
Jeromy: Well, ok, yeah, but you have to admit, you can't exactly dress and undress him at this point.
Monday, January 3, 2011
Rebecca = deer in the headlights
Well, as several of you have probably read or heard by now....
I think I'm a little bit in shock. I had been telling others and even myself that it was probably a boy, but now that we have confirmation, I'm not sure I really believed it. I was trying to be really Zen and "oh, it doesn't matter, as long as it's healthy!" about the whole thing, but I'm sure pretty much everyone who knows me suspected--correctly--that I secretly kind of wanted a girl. I tried not to, I really did. I know how incredibly lucky we are to have a healthy baby and to have not had any fertility issues ,and that I'm kind of a jerk for caring about anything else. But this is the girl who has been saving a box of Barbie stuff, a pristine American Girl doll, and a dress-up box for years. I was feeling fairly confident about dealing with a little girl, but I'm more than a little intimidated by the thought of raising a boy. Traditional male stuff has always been totally alien to me; I don't really DO contact sports or toy trucks or loud "blam blam! I shot you!" games. And yes, I know, we could very well have had a girl that was into that stuff. But at least I could have dressed her in pink sparkly stuff until she was old enough to protest.
Don't get me wrong, I WANT a boy. The thought that Jeromy will probably be getting a little buddy to play Legos and throw a ball with gives me warm fuzzies all over. Many of my favorite people on the planet are members of the male species. Boys are great; I just really want a girl, TOO. If someone looked into the future right now and told me that next time it would for sure be a girl, I'd probably snap out of my little pout and be just fine. But as it is, I'm kind of mentally adjusting our "we'll stop after two" decision to "we'll stop as soon as mommy gets her girl!" which I'm sure Jeromy will be thrilled about. (Yes honey, I know that college scholarships don't grow on trees).
While I know that this little theory is in no way scientific, I would swear from personal experience/observation that a lot of women who are really hoping for a girl end up with a boy, and women who are more mellow and don't really care either way end up with girls! So, in some ways I feel like this is a karma thing, as though the universe is probably reminding me that I can't will things to be just the way I want them all the time. I think nature is telling me to chill out and go with the flow and do some yoga or something.
Jeromy said that having a girl might have been the worst thing for me, because I probably would have gone completely manic with the girly princess stuff. My brother and his fiance had similar thoughts. I'm sure they are all right. Hopefully this baby boy adventure that we are embarking on will help me to be a more open-minded and balanced person.
I'm still not playing with toy guns, though.
I do know that it's going to be fine. I will tuck away our girl name (NOBODY CLOSE TO US BETTER USE IT!!! Just kidding. Not really.) and the feminine nursery pictures and the Barbie box for another little one down the road, whether it's ours or a friend's or relative's. I will quit being selfish and deal with myself. It's not like I'm going to look at our baby boy when he arrives and try to negotiate a swap for someone else's little girl. I have no doubt that once we meet our baby, I won't be able to imagine having things any other way.
Besides, I did think of one major bonus for me: JEROMY has to do the "birds and bees" talk for this kiddo!!! HA!!
So enough about me and my therapist-couch issues....here are the ultrasound pictures!
They said that he was "being shy" so they couldn't get a great "It's a boy" picture, but they promised us that they were 100% sure on the gender. I'm glad they could tell, because we really couldn't see it AT ALL.
We are hard at work on names. The girl name was 99% decided on (so, again, OF COURSE it's a boy) but the boy name list is still pretty long. We'll keep you posted.
A funny gender side note.....
This morning I realized that every time I had imagined today's ultrasound, I had pictured the perinatal specialist as a male, and got all mad at myself for making the sexist assumption that a highly-trained medical specialist wouldn't be a female. (My first assumption was correct, though!)
Then, when we announced our big news today, I think about 4 or 5 people (including one of my parents), said something along the lines of "Oh, the "Doctor" nickname works, then!" Ha! I guess we ALL need to remember that females can be doctors, too!
COMING SOON...
A SUPER awkward story about my last visit to the OBGYN office! It's nothing gross, but it was high on the embarrassment scale. Prepare to enjoy my mortification.
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| "Did you bring BOTH a blue AND a pink marker with you??!" Jeromy asked. Um, DUH. |
Don't get me wrong, I WANT a boy. The thought that Jeromy will probably be getting a little buddy to play Legos and throw a ball with gives me warm fuzzies all over. Many of my favorite people on the planet are members of the male species. Boys are great; I just really want a girl, TOO. If someone looked into the future right now and told me that next time it would for sure be a girl, I'd probably snap out of my little pout and be just fine. But as it is, I'm kind of mentally adjusting our "we'll stop after two" decision to "we'll stop as soon as mommy gets her girl!" which I'm sure Jeromy will be thrilled about. (Yes honey, I know that college scholarships don't grow on trees).
While I know that this little theory is in no way scientific, I would swear from personal experience/observation that a lot of women who are really hoping for a girl end up with a boy, and women who are more mellow and don't really care either way end up with girls! So, in some ways I feel like this is a karma thing, as though the universe is probably reminding me that I can't will things to be just the way I want them all the time. I think nature is telling me to chill out and go with the flow and do some yoga or something.
Jeromy said that having a girl might have been the worst thing for me, because I probably would have gone completely manic with the girly princess stuff. My brother and his fiance had similar thoughts. I'm sure they are all right. Hopefully this baby boy adventure that we are embarking on will help me to be a more open-minded and balanced person.
 |
| I SO would have gone there... |
I do know that it's going to be fine. I will tuck away our girl name (NOBODY CLOSE TO US BETTER USE IT!!! Just kidding. Not really.) and the feminine nursery pictures and the Barbie box for another little one down the road, whether it's ours or a friend's or relative's. I will quit being selfish and deal with myself. It's not like I'm going to look at our baby boy when he arrives and try to negotiate a swap for someone else's little girl. I have no doubt that once we meet our baby, I won't be able to imagine having things any other way.
Besides, I did think of one major bonus for me: JEROMY has to do the "birds and bees" talk for this kiddo!!! HA!!
So enough about me and my therapist-couch issues....here are the ultrasound pictures!
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| Side profile...looks like a baby! |
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| Apparently waving to us |
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| Looking at the little skeleton face from the front |
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| Tiny foot |
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| Still the Baby Girl of the house... |
A funny gender side note.....
This morning I realized that every time I had imagined today's ultrasound, I had pictured the perinatal specialist as a male, and got all mad at myself for making the sexist assumption that a highly-trained medical specialist wouldn't be a female. (My first assumption was correct, though!)
Then, when we announced our big news today, I think about 4 or 5 people (including one of my parents), said something along the lines of "Oh, the "Doctor" nickname works, then!" Ha! I guess we ALL need to remember that females can be doctors, too!
COMING SOON...
A SUPER awkward story about my last visit to the OBGYN office! It's nothing gross, but it was high on the embarrassment scale. Prepare to enjoy my mortification.
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