Bun's Out of the Oven!

He's here! Judah Jack "Jude" Messing was born Friday, October 14, 2011 at 6:42 am. He weighed 7 pounds, 13 ounces and was 21.3 inches long.

This concludes the documentary on my third pregnancy. It's been quite a ride! Jude's story will continue on my regular blog, Late Night Feedings. See you there!

Worth A Thousand Words

Sophie came home from school with this drawing for me yesterday. She showed me that she had drawn herself, Lilah, Mommy, the baby, and Daddy. I told her how nice I thought it was. She told me that she was going to ask her teacher how to write something on it, but then she ran out of time. I told her I would write it for her and asked her what she had wanted to say. She said, "I'm sorry the baby's not coming out." I thanked her and hugged her tight. A little sympathy goes a long ways with me.

Belly Pics!

Here they are from Week 16 to now (39). I know I took one at 20 weeks, but I can't find it anywhere. I'm posting them all now in an act of extreme hopefulness that there will not be a Week 40 shot. Enjoy!

Confinement Vs. Rice Fields

Over the course of this pregnancy, particularly in these last couple of months, I have struggled with how to best take care of myself. I've wondered whether I should take it easy or ignore the assumed to be harmless discomfort and maintain my usual level of activity. I often reflect on two conflicting images from literature. The first is confinement, which I have read about countless times in European historical fiction. This was the idea that toward the end of pregnancy it was best for the mother and the baby to confine the mother to bed in a dark room. It sounds horrible at first, but there have definitely been days where this appealed to me. The other image is that of the mother in The Good Earth, who squatted in the rice field, gave birth, wrapped the baby up and then continued working in the rice field. Clearly this woman was able to work right up to the end, and then some. I often wonder if this is the way to do it- just push through the pain and keep on keeping on. Obviously, neither of these approaches is ideal for me (or most pregnant women). The best approach lies somewhere in the middle- doing as much as possible without being unreasonable. Knowing personal limits and comfort levels. But that can be a hard line to draw. And timing is everything. There have been days that I have pushed myself too hard and had to try to recover by putting myself in "confinement" for the next day or two. Overdoing it caused me to have frequent, painful contractions, and that was scary at that point in the pregnancy. Now that I am at the end of the road and going into labor would be a good thing, I kind of want to go out into the rice field and work work work until it's time to deliver. I do not wish to squat in a rice field, though. I'll be at the hospital for that part :)

End of the Ticker!

Am I really up to the last baby on that ticker up there? Why, I remember when it was just a little embryo with legs! It is satisfying to see that I am on that last baby. It justifies how how much pain I am in sometimes. And how nervous I am. And how almost nothing fits anymore- even my maternity clothes. I'm pretty stressed out. I would be okay if it was the normal end of pregnancy stress stuff. Or the normal holiday preparation stuff. Or the normal construction headache stuff. But everything combined is really getting to me. I'm just trying to control the things that I can and cope with the things that I can't. This means enjoying the positive parts of what's left of the pregnancy, doing as much holiday/post baby cooking that I can (or that my freezer can accommodate), and accepting the fact that my constant supervision and involvement can only go so far in the construction time line. We're almost there...

Case in Cup

Allow me to share with you a story from this morning’s doctor’s appointment that will illustrate the legitimacy of two common pregnancy complaints. The first is “pregnancy brain.” Not just an excuse for being flaky, there are scientific reasons for this phenomenon. The second complaint is that of frequent urination, due to a person constantly head-butting the pregnant woman’s bladder. I often complain that as soon as I stand up from using the bathroom I have to go again. This morning, I proved this to be no exaggeration. Here is what happened:

I went in for a regular check-up. The nurse and I chatted away while she took my weight and blood pressure. She was pregnant when I was pregnant with Lilah, and we ended up delivering our babies on the same day, just rooms apart in the hospital. So we have a nice little nurse-patient bond. At every appointment after she takes my weight and blood pressure (or sometimes before, depending on how long I’ve been waiting) I go to the bathroom to leave my urine sample. Today was no different. However, as soon as I finished using the bathroom I realized that I had totally forgotten about the sample. I was washing my hands and looking at the plastic cups and black marker and realized what I had done. I went over the options in my head: tell the doctor what happened and ask to try again after the appointment or just walk out and don’t worry about the sample this week, both of which would make me look like an idiot. Then it occurred to me that if I sat back down, I just might be able to try again. Lo, and behold, a mere few seconds after zipping up (er, pulling up my big old elastic-waisted maternity jeans) I had no trouble at all filling up that plastic cup.

Moral of the story: pregnant women’s brains and bladders truly do not function normally. But once in a while that may prove to be a good thing.

Weary Traveler

Synopsis of the past three weeks:

Packed for Charleston
Packed for home
Packed for Cleveland
Packed for home
Packed for Atlanta
Packed for home

The next suitcase I'm packing is my hospital bag.

Always Read (and HEED!) the Instructions

I literally just opened a can of whoop-ass on my son. In an act of third trimester indulgence, I set out to make these scrumptious biscuits.



I did not think much of this warning.



Which resulted in this welt on my belly, right where my baby likes to push his tushy:
(It looks and feels worse in person than it does in this picture.)


These biscuits better be worth it.

Third Trimester, Third Time Around

I am officially in the third trimester now! I am indeed feeling heavy with child. And heavy with things to do...

By this point in my pregnancy with my oldest, she had a name, a decorated nursery, and a closet full of little dresses. Her baby book was up-to-date, as was a carefully organized baby registry.

By this point in my pregnancy with my second, she had a first name, with several contenders as middle names. She had a decorated nursery, as we concentrated on finishing her sister's new and exciting big girl room.

This baby has an empty crib in what is still very much the guest room. He has some form of a name of the person he will be named for, but the exact form or if it is to be used for his first or middle name is still up in the air. That's about it. I sort of had this flash of remembrance last week that it takes 12 weeks for furniture to come in once you order it. I went to one store and picked out what I wanted. I still haven't actually ordered it. At the next store I picked up one outfit on clearance and a baby book, though I have no idea when I will start filling it in.

There is much to be done for the little guy. Time to get my nesting on.

Making Room in the Nest

Last week I posted about Lilah leaving the nest. This weekend she quite literally left her nest, a.k.a. her crib. I originally thought I would not have to make this transition until Septemberish. However, we are going away for a week in August, and rather than shlep the pack 'n play and risk her not sleeping well in it anyways, I decided to have her be adjusted to a bed by then. Even though I knew this was the logical choice, I really dreaded moving her into a bed. For me, the crib to bed transition was the worst transition to date in the history of me being a parent. We had a horrible week or so of transitioning Sophie at night, and then I spent a good month or more napping with her every single day. It really took a toll on me. I decided to take things slow with Lilah. For starters, instead of moving Lilah to a completely new bedroom as we had done with Sophie, we were able to just put a bed in her existing room. We began rocking, reading, etc. on her bed at nap time and bedtime instead of in the glider. Each time I would ask her if she wanted to sleep in her bed. Once or twice she said yes, but then changed her mind. Mostly, she said no and I put her straight into the crib. I didn't push it at all. I wanted it to be her choice (I mentally gave her an end of July deadline). Plus, putting her in a crib was easier for me. I could just put her in a crib and walk away. Even if it took her a long time to fall asleep, or she never ended up falling asleep at all, she was safely contained. I could GET STUFF DONE (my eternal quest in life). But, lo and behold, Friday night when Shimmy put her to bed she agreed to sleep in her bed. And she only came out twice during the night. Since she had a successful night we decided this was it- no turning back. Saturday afternoon she didn't want to nap in the bed, so I offered to nap with her. I napped, she did not. I kept her in the bed for an hour and then called it quits. Saturday night she went to sleep with no problems and stayed in bed until 6:00am, at which point I got in bed with her and we went back to sleep until 8:30am. Sunday afternoon we took the crib apart and reassembled it in the baby's room. Lilah napped, but only because Shimmy stayed with her the whole time. Sunday night she slept all night until 7:00am! This afternoon she napped without me! So far this has been a pretty successful transition- certainly easier than it was with Sophie! PHEW! Moving the crib was the first step of many in my nesting for Baby #3. YAY- I LOVE THE NESTING PART!!!


Lilah's new bed!


The crib, relocated, with the mattress adorably in the highest position. Pay no attention to anything but the crib. While it is in what will be the baby's room, it isn't in its permanent location and nothing in the room has been decorated for the baby. Yet. Stay tuned!

The Best Part

This is the good part of pregnancy... the best part. This is the part when the miserable part is becoming a distant memory, but it it not yet the part when I wish to wake up in the middle of the night in active labor because I really, truly cannot imagine being pregnant for one more day. This is the part when I feel the baby from the inside and outside almost constantly, causing me to smile on the inside and outside almost constantly. This is the part when I know the sex of the baby, so I can more completely bond with him. This is the part when doctor's appointments are so short, because of lack of questions or complaints on my part, that I am parked in the garage for less than 30 minutes, allowing me free parking. This is the part when I LOVE being pregnant; the part that when I am not pregnant I think about wistfully. This is the part that makes me sad to consider this being my last pregnancy; that makes me think I could do this over and over... or at least once more. This part is too short. I've only just recently arrived at this part, and I know it will pass in a few weeks. For now, I am trying to enjoy every last second of this part. Because it is truly the best part of pregnancy.

Cupcakes, Anyone?

Yesterday was our "BIG" 20 week ultrasound. Baby is healthy and measuring right on track (one day early if you want to get technical)! Just as we did with both of of previous babies, we wanted to know the sex of this little one. I had gone back and forth about what my general feeling was. My instinct was boy, but my pregnancy has been pretty much exactly as it was with the girls. I crave the same foods, avoid the same foods, had morning sickness, fatigue, sciatica, and migraines. I am carrying the same way. And yet, the color we iced our celebratory cupcakes was.......




... blue! (I'm pretty sure the good people at University of Maryland are going to revoke my minor/certificate in Women's Studies.) So it just goes to show you that old wives' tales are just that!

I am so excited to have a little boy! I look forward to the challenges and rewards that I'm sure will come with the job of raising a boy. And the girls are ecstatic to finally have a "prince" in their never-ending fairytale games :)

Overheard in the Peanut Gallery

On the way home this afternoon I overheard this conversation happening in the back seat:

Sophie: "Lilah, do you want to have a baby?"
Lilah: "No! I don't want a baby!"
Sophie: "But, Lilah, I decided I want a baby."
Lilah: "Well alright."
Sophie: "So are you happy we're having a baby?"
Lilah: "No! I don't like babies!"
Sophie: "Lilah! Mommy has a baby in her tummy and in a few weeks [more like months] she's going to go to the hospital and have our baby! Don't you want our baby?"
Lilah: "No thank you."

If I had been laughing any harder it would have compromised my driving! I'm sure she'll change her mind at some point :)

Pregnancy Jeopardy

Ligament stretching, i.e., sore muscles to the point of painful sneezes, and this from someone who both runs and weight trains regularly; sciatica; and migraines.

What is the second trimester?

[Still soooooooo much more preferable than the first and even the third, but painful nonetheless.]

Signs of New Life

(not-yet-sprouted) Seeds that Sophie collected and planted:



Tadpoles from our pool cover:



Nest outside our window:



And best of all, my baby, who began noticeably squirming about a week and a half ago :)

One-Third of the Way There

And just like that- we're in the second trimester! And with it, right on schedule, came a growth spurt, braxton hicks, and the beginning of the end of the nausea. Hallelujah! Three months down, six to go...

Spreading the News

We had our first trimester screening, complete with lengthy ultrasound done yesterday. Thank God, everything looked perfect. The baby looked amazing. It is incredible how much babies change in a few weeks. No longer a "blob," it had distinguishable facial features, skinny little arms to wave at us, and cute little feet to kick.

We decided to tell the girls that afternoon. Sophie has still not stopped talking about it. She has bombarded me with questions (mostly about the logistics of delivery and what life with the baby will be like). She has been singing, "We're having a baby! We're having a baby!" continuously. As soon as she told me she was going to tell her teacher and all of her friends at school, I knew we had to make a mad dash to beat the grapevine. Sophie called some relatives yesterday and I will call the rest of them today. After that, a mass email will be sent to all remaining friends. Most of my good friends know already, and the others will just be too difficult to reach in time. I hate not telling everyone individually and in person, but I feel like it's better for them to hear it from me, even in a mass email, than in the carpool line after their kid has heard from her friend who heard from her brother who is in Sophie's class.

It's strange to go from my pregnancy being a virtual secret, and hours later, the whole world (well, my world at least) knowing. The final coming out step will be the publicizing of this blog. YAY.

Bucket List

When you are pregnant the term bucket list takes on a whole different meaning.

While walking around the Tidal Basin last Sunday with the family I had one goal in mind: find a big pretzel. I had been craving one for over a week. As soon as I realized the craving I said, "add that to my bucket list." It sounds weird, and wrong, but whenever I eat something off of (out of?) the bucket list I feel satisfied. Crossed off (eaten?) items have included: an almond joy candy bar, ice cream, pizza, and a sour apple dum dum. To balance it out, I have also craved crazy amounts of fruit (particularly granny smith apples), cereal, and milk.

The most disappointing item was the deli sandwich that never was :( Ironically, I had been reading a discussion thread about deli meat on a pregnancy message board. Some people eat it with abandon, others only when it is heated up first, and some avoid it altogether. One thing was clear to me after reading the discussion: I needed a big deli sandwich pronto. Shimmy said he would be home in an hour and would pick up the fixings on his way home. The problem was, that an hour later it was 11pm, I was beyond hungry and just extremely nauseous, and I was so tired that I was literally crying. The meats are in the refrigerator should the craving return.

Currently, the items on my Bucket (of food) List are as follows:
A really good grilled cheese sandwich -probably a panini- with tomato soup (edited: after writing this I made it for lunch. And it was gooood.)
Tater tots- I got hash browns at Dunkin Donuts the other day, but they were not the right ratio of potato to crisp
A big cosmopolitan (6+ more months for that one- sniff, sniff).
And, of course, the elusive big soft pretzel from a street vendor

I look forward to adding and eating more items from my Bucket List :)

11 weeks, 4 days

Anyone who has experienced a loss of pregnancy knows exactly what day it happened. It remains a scary day during all future pregnancies. For me, that day is 11 weeks, 4 days. Today is my scary day. Luckily, I also had a doctor's appointment today. The doctor brought the doppler over and said, "you're still pretty early, so if we don't hear anything I'll bring out the ultrasound." As soon as the doppler touched my belly we heard a loud, galloping heart beat. I closed my eyes, smiled, and listened to my baby- safe, healthy, growing strong...

Enjoyment is in the Belly of the Beholder

The other day a friend of mine who is due with her second child in a few weeks was telling a group of us how glad she was that she was almost done being pregnant. She said, a few times, "I just do not enjoy being pregnant." I believe her. She has complained about every aspect of being pregnant the entire time she has been pregnant. I asked if there was anything she liked about it. She said no. I pointed out that when I have been pregnant I have loved the idea that I was growing a new life, and later in the pregnancy, I loved feeling the baby move all of the time. She looked at me like I was crazy. I told her that I would practice a lot of mindful meditation, concentrating on the baby inside me. She said she was not the meditating type. She also laughed at me. I truly feel sad for her. She does not yet I know I am pregnant, so she may have easily thought that I was remembering only the good things about my pregnancies, the most recent of which ended two years ago. The truth is, I feel horrible most of the time. Thanks to Zofran I am no longer throwing up on a regular basis, but I am still nauseous to some degree constantly. I am so tired that sometimes I cry. My body aches, especially after bathing my girls. But I am still enjoying my pregnancy. I think about my growing baby with awe and gratitude. Sometimes I am lucky enough to have a rest in the afternoons and I meditate before dozing for 15 or 20 minutes. As I breathe slowly and deeply I concentrate on my baby. I don't picture him or her as s/he is now (a translucent, blood vessel covered alien looking thing), but as s/he will look as a newborn: a small, soft baby with a fuzzy head and eyes that look up at me. Knowing that I am carrying this baby right now has an amazing calming effect on me. In spite of all of its pitfalls , I ENJOY pregnancy. I can't imagine not enjoying it.