FLASH!

I wish I were talking about this kind of Flash (aaaa-aaaaah!), but I'm not.

I'm talking about hot flashes.

I grew up in Florida. As a result, I can tolerate high heat and humidity, but I'm a total weenie when it comes to being cold and dry. When I moved to Utah in January, it took about 2 days before I was ready to get back in my car and drive across the country to Florida again. Seriously. My hands were so dry and cracked that they bled (even with lotion applied several times a day), and I practically lived in flannel jammies under a blanket next to a space heater.

In the good old days, any temperatures below 75 degrees required a sweater at a minimum, and anything below 60 was unacceptably cold and meant I didn't go outside. Snow meant that the world was ending, and that the only thing to do was hole up in a (warm) place and wait for the end to come.

However, this pregnancy thing has turned the thermostat in my body way, way up. It was 64 degrees this morning - normally sweater-worthy weather - and I just opened the window and sat there. It felt so good. I carry a fan around with me from room to room because otherwise I'll sweat my tits off. And at night, I normally can't even have the sheet over me because I'm so hot.

Hot. Hot. Hot.

I guess I'm glad I don't live in the South right now.

Almost the Baby-Que

Well, one week until the much-anticipated Baby-Que! A bunch of people who I would like to be there... won't. But we knew the risks when we planned it on a long weekend, so no biggie. Cries quietly in the corner.

MommyFear #2

It's hard not to let the fears of parenthood ooze out of my brain and all over everyone I come into contact with. I already wrote about one fear - the one that involves me losing my identity as a not-mom - but I've been assured that I won't turn into that unless I allow it. Fair enough. But there are a billion other things to worry about (and they don't even involve my house burning down, which is my number one fear ever, by the way). I'll only cover one right now, though: I'm afraid there will be something wrong with the Beast.

"Something" could be anything. It could be apparent at birth, like mental retardation or an extra eye. It could manifest later, like slow speech development or deafness. Or it could even hide until the Beast's teenage years, like depression caused by a brain chemical imbalance. Anything.

I actually wouldn't be that upset about having a deaf kid, as I know sign language. I'd be worried about making the decision on whether to get a Cochlear implant or not; many in the deaf community don't consider deafness to be a malady, but rather a defining characteristic. Then again, if I could give my child the ability to hear... shouldn't I do that?

And being born with three eyes would practically guarantee a job in the circus, and in this economy, isn't having a guaranteed job something to be thankful for?

I never had any testing done to see if the Beast had any chromosomal abnormalities, because I didn't want to have to make the decision. You know the one I'm talking about. I also believe that things happen for a reason, and following that logic, I'd have the kid I'm going to have whether I did anything about it or not. The odds are that the Beast will be completely normal.

Well, as normal as a baby can be with Jake and I as parents. We both express the Weirdness gene, and I'm pretty sure we're both homozygous for it. Sorry, Beast, you're genetically doomed to be a weirdo!

36 Weeks

I don't know whether to consider August 22nd the one-month-to-go mark, or tack that illustrious title onto the start of Week 36 (which was yesterday... yeah yeah day late again). I guess it doesn't really matter, since the Beast probably won't arrive on September 22nd.

Speaking of September 22nd, it's Jake's birthday! I got him his present already. He insisted that I didn't need to get him anything, and that pushing a baby out of my hoo-ha was gift enough. However, I love to give gifts to people, so he's getting a birthday present. I'd reveal what it is on here, but he reads my blog.

Jake's brother and his wife welcomed their baby girl, Londyn, into the world on Tuesday! The baby count is climbing; soon, there will be no escaping them. CACKLE! She's adorable, which worries me. Cash was cute. Londyn was cute. If the Beast has a conehead, I'm going to seriously be upset. And blame Jake. :)

Steve the stretch mark decided to invite friends to a party on my hips, which by the way he didn't ask me if he could even have a party. >:| So now I have a bunch of rowdy stretch marks all over the place, making a mess and pissing off the neighbors. And they're not even on the part I'd expect them to be on: the stretched part. My big fat tum is smooth and unblemished, but my hips (which are still squishy and not stretched) have a big line of pink... other lines. It's inexplicable!

I'm totally ready to be done being pregnant. I don't know how people do this twice, and certainly can't fathom why anyone would do it more than twice. I haven't even had a bad pregnancy; it's just SO uncomfortable. And DAMMIT I want a turkey sammich, and honey, and to run again. Yes, I want to put on my tennies and run around town. Mostly I just don't want to be fat anymore. I want to be able to touch my toes without having to do some kind of crazy grunt-squat-wince move. I want to sleep on my stomach again. I want to be able to shave my legs and not have to wonder if I got all the hair (which I oftentimes don't).

One month left. :)

Motherly (Toilet) Wisdom

One of my earliest childhood memories involves a short conversation I had with my mother regarding childbirth. I must have been 5 or 6 years old, following my mother around the house. We were in my parents' loft bedroom, and my mom was in the bathroom washing her hands or something, and I was standing next to their large dresser which sat just next to the bathroom door.

I don't know why we were on the topic of childbirth. Maybe we weren't. Maybe it was just something that happened to scoot through my 5-year-old brain and make its way to my mouth. Kids say the darndest things, right?

Anyway, I asked her what childbirth was like. It was probably phrased more like this: "Mommy, what is having a baby like?"

My mom is a complex person. She was raised very properly; that is to say, she possesses impeccable manners and uses them when the situation calls for them. She always emphasized to me how important it is to bring some kind of gift (dessert, wine, etc) when you're invited to someone's house. She also lectured me for an entire train ride across England about how to properly eat (I think she was worried I'd slurp soup or something in the presence of her fancy-shmancy relatives whom we were on our way to see). Stand up straight, don't chew your nails, wash behind your ears, etc.

But, my mother is also unpolished. She used to fart in the car and then roll down the front passenger window so the odor would be pulled past my sister or I (whoever had chosen the front seat). This might account for why both Harper and I think farts are hilarious, even though we didn't find it funny at the time.

As a 5-year-old, everything my parents said was gospel (except what my dad told me about mud-dauber wasps and their intimate relationship with spiders), so when my mom answered my quandary re: baby-havin', I carried that in my brain for the next... well, twenty years. I'm reminded of it every now and then, and it always makes me chuckle a little.

When asked what having a baby was like, my mom's response to me was: "Taylor, having a baby is like taking a really really big poop."

I doubt she thought that I'd remember that. But I do. And in a few weeks, I'll be able to verify whether that comparison is accurate. Thanks, Mom, for the wisdom. :)

Yummy Boobies

I went to a breastfeeding class last night. I almost made Jake go with me, but he had a long day at work, so I was merciful.

I also set the oven on fire, so I wasn't able to make him the enchiladas I had promised him.

For the record, one should always put a pan filled with banana nut bread batter on top of a cookie sheet before placing it into the oven. If one does not do this, the banana bread might overflow out of its pan, fall on the heating coil at the bottom of the oven, and ignite while one is in the living room watching House and writing thank you notes.

So, anyway... breastfeeding class!

I already knew most of the information that was presented, but I'm still glad I went. The instructor was fun and a little crazy, but in a good way. She's VERY pro-breastfeeding (borderline Boob Nazi) but not militant about it. I think everyone should at least try to breastfeed, but if it's not what some mothers want to do, then whatever. That's their choice. Formula isn't the best, but it's kept plenty of babies alive, so it can't be that bad.

A few weeks ago, I posted about the doctor's appointment I went to where I talked to my doc about my birth plan. He was on board with mostly everything, but he did talk me into a saline lock (hospital policy in case of emergencies), and to get Pitocin after the birth in order to get the placenta out faster and stop severe bleeding.

The class last night convinced me that I don't need the Pitocin. The act of breastfeeding causes your brain to release oxytocin, which then causes your uterus to contract (among other things). The contracting uterus encourages the placenta to detach and make its exit, and then it continues to contract, which stops postpartum bleeding so you don't hemorrhage and die.

And not dying is a good thing, in my opinion.

I guess doctors like to give Pitocin after birth because it lowers their liability by basically making it even less likely that you'll hemorrhage. However, I've never had bleeding problems, so the odds of me bleeding out are low to begin with. If I am bleeding out, it's probably because of something that oxytocin (or Pitocin) can't fix. Plus, a pregnant lady has 25-40% more blood in her body than a non-pregnant lady, so I figure I have 25-40% more blood to lose.

So yeah, my next doctor's appointment is going to involve a Group B Strep nethers-swab, checking the Beast's position, probably a peek to see if I'm dilated or anything, and also me informing the doc that I've changed my mind about the Pitocin.

Nine Down...

... One to go!!

Months, that is.

I have one month left until my due date of September 22nd. I'm kind of hoping I'll go sooner than that (I reeeeeeally hope I don't go later), but we'll see. It's also a month until Jake's birthday. Now I just have to think of a good present to get him.

How about... a baby?! :D

35 Weeks

Another late post. I suck at this "on-time posting" thing. Well, again, I have a good excuse!

Jake is back!

And he put me to work right away, restarting Operation Unpack My Crap and doing a much better job of it than I did. We got rid of more stuff, and then we bought a new TV! So I don't have to watch movies on my lappytoppy anymore, yay!

I have a doc appointment today, but I probably won't be able to blog about it afterward, as we are heading to Jake's cousin's wedding immediately after the appointment. As an added bonus, I get to meet all of his grandparents at the wedding. I like old people (as long as they aren't behind the wheel of a motor vehicle), so this ought to be fun!

edit:

Update!

We got back from Wyoming today (August 22nd). It was a good time. Jake has a fun family. Jake reminds me of his uncle, and even though everyone thought I wasn't going to be able to understand his Japanese grandmother, I totally did. About 80% of the time. But hey, I guess that's better than other people do, so... I win!

We left Sophie with Jake's mom while we were away, and she reportedly behaved very well. Which is good for her, or she might have gotten a spanking.

Oh, doctor's appointment... the Beast's apartment is measuring 34cm, which is about what it's supposed to be. The next appointment involves the Group B Strep test (yaaaaay :| ), and marks the beginning of weekly visits and also checking for dilation n stuff. The Beast moves around oodles all the time, but always feel the strongest on the right side still. I think s/he's still in the same position as s/he was a few weeks ago (head down!), but I'm not sure. Well, we'll see at the next doc appointment. ^_^

Jake is Back!

Hooraaaaaay! Well technically he was back yesterday, but I was too busy enjoying not being alone anymore to blog it. He's out taking a bunch of stuff to Deseret Industries to be donated, so I have some free time. I didn't go with him because I thought he might want a break from me following him around. I'm just glad to have someone human to talk to! Sophie is a terrible conversationalist.

For Sale: Gently Used Microwave

34 Weeks

A day late, once again. But this time, I have an excuse! I didn't want to blogify while Marjory was in town. So eat it.

I took my CNA written exam on Tuesday. I'm pretty sure I'm not supposed to discuss the actual content of the test, lest I be accused of cheating, but I don't think the following statement would be considered cheating:

Whoever wrote the Utah CNA exam needs to go back to test-writing school.

>:|

There were several questions (about 15 out of 100) that had two right answers. And I'm not talking about, "Well, for practicality's sake, both of these answers are correct, but the book says it's this one, so the correct answer is this one." Nor am I talking about, "Two are right but one is more right."

I'm talking about, "Oh wow, two of these answers are verbatim from the book, and both are 100% correct." So there was a lot of eenie-meenie-miney-moe going on. And I really don't like doing that on a test, ESPECIALLY a test I had to pay cash monies for.

They said I should get my result in 5-10 bidnis days. So in a couple of days, I'm going to be going off about the CNA test, one way or another.

Tonight was my first Third Trimester Childbirth class at the hospital where I'm delivering. It was educational, entertaining, and the instructor is very cool. It would have been better if Jake had been there, though, because I was the only pregnant lady there without a dude. Mrrrrg.

Operation Unpack My Crap is complete. Well, as complete as it's going to get until Jake comes home and probably makes me toss more stuff. I halved the amount of junk that I own (should get one helluva tax credit for this year!) and I managed to consolidate my belongings into 10 large Rubbermaid containers. So yay for me! I was most excited about my DVDs. Now I just need a TV on which to watch them...

Oh yes, so, Marjory was in town. Marjory is one of my oldest friends. We've known each other since we were 10 or so, so it's been... 16 years. Hot damn, I'm old. A 16-year friendship is awesome, because we know so much about each other, and it is also sucky, because we know so much about each other. I'm very lucky Marjory is too classy to engage in blackmail.

And now... some pictures!

Marjory at Temple Square

Marjory making faces in Temple Square

Strikin' a pose at Silver Lake

Rescuing a Mountain Chickadee that ran into a tree

(the Chickadee is fine!)

She's hunting duckies!

Yours truly! And might I say: sweet Jesus, my face looks fat!

Marjory is Here!

Everyone gets a break from my near-constant blogging this weekend and half of next week, because one of my most bestest friends is visiting me from Florida!

She's taking a shower right now, so I had some free time on my hands. I chose to blog rather than load the dishwasher or clean up the table or something else that would have probably been more constructive. Oh well!

After we get cleaned up, I'm going to take her into downtown SLC and show her around. I was originally planning on taking her to

......................................Temple Square,
but it being Sunday, I realized that might not be the best idea. So we're going to the mall instead. Whee!

I'm sure I'll have plenty of pictures of our adventures to post on Wednesday when she leaves. Sadface. :( But I'm going to try to not sit on the computer and neglect her. Let's see how successful I am! Aaaaaand go.

Blog Hop '10

I thought I'd give this thing a try! Can't hurt, right?

OK, about me... I've only started blogging very recently, mostly because I never really had anything that I considered worth blogging about. However, in January of this year, I found out I was pregnant, so I decided to blog about that!

The hubby and I

The hubby (Jake) is going to school for electrical engineering, which means he's a giant math geek. I am NOT. Not even a little bit. I use numbers when there is a sale, or when my life depends on it. Jake is also in the ANG, and he is deployed right now. Boo! But he'll be back soon. Yay! We both like to scuba dive, and he loves skiing - the snow kind... I think it's fun for a while but I'm definitely not an addict like he is.

The fur baby

The fur baby's name is Sophie, and she is a Staffordshire Bull Terrier. I've had her for 3 1/2 years, since she was 8 weeks old, and she's my precious monkey, even if she is a total brat sometimes. Thankfully, her brattiness only includes whining for no reason and not destruction, which she could accomplish easily since she has jaws like an alligator.

The Beast

The Beast (aka, the baby) is due on September 22nd. We decided not to find out the gender, which is why we refer to it as "the Beast." I'd prefer a boy, but I don't really care what it is, as long as it's human.

As of today, my summer classes are over (hooray!), so I get a break for a couple of weeks from brain lurnin'. I'm currently in school for a BS in nursing, although I've been considering pursuing genetics instead. It all depends on how I handle being a mom, and whether or not my grey matter leaks out of my ears.

I'm a bit of a sci-fi nerd, and I love reading. My favorite series is the Dark Tower by Stephen King. I don't watch a lot of TV, but when I do, it's usually Bones, House, or various Adult Swim cartoons. Sophie likes CSI: Miami, so we watch that together sometimes. I have a planted aquarium that I kind of treat like a living painting, so it takes up a good amount of time. I love gardening and inherited a green thumb from my mother, but living in an apartment makes gardening a challenge. I still have a salsa garden growing in pots, though! I name my plants. Maybe that's why they grow.

I have a potty mouth (or on the Internet, I suppose I have potty fingers? That kind of sounds gross.), so watch out for that!

So I guess that's my blog in a nutshell! I try to keep it on the baby topic, but sometimes I ramble. And now that I have free time from school, I'll probably post a lot more often. :D

A Cause for Great Lamentation

Behold.

My First Stretch Mark. :( Since I have a propensity for naming random things (Eric the Betta, Pablo the Habanero Pepper Plant, Alberto and Nina the Jalapeño Pepper Plants), I have decided to call this stretch mark Steve.

I noticed Steve this morning as I was applying lotion after I got out of the shower.

For the record, I don't put lotion on to prevent stretch marks (not entirely, anyway). It's super dry in Utah in comparison to Florida, and my skin gets way itchy and scratchy if I don't lotion up at least once a day.

The discovery of Steve upset me, understandably. I was hoping to make it through this pregnancy ordeal without any of the dreaded stretch marks that plague those who have undergone rapid weight gain. Apparently, it was not meant to be.

Needless to day, as soon as I saw Steve, I determined that I've been too lax as far as exercising and not pigging out. I decided to cut back on cheesecake and Oreos and junk food in general, and to maybe take longer walks with Sophie in the morning (bicyclists be damned). I'm not looking forward to giving up comfort food, but I also really don't want a bunch of stretch marks all over my midsection.

Then, to make matters worse better complicated, Jake sent me a box of Godiva chocolates today.

Damn you, Steve. Damn you.

33 Weeks

Is it weird that pictures of my own stomach gross me out?

Yesterday, I got a gift in the mail from Jake's dad and stepmom... the Pack'n'Play! Squeal!

"Is this for me?"

No, Sophie, it's not for you.

All assembled!

It has a changing station (left) and a bassinet (right). It's pretty light, has wheels for easy dragging, and is collapsible down to a ridiculously small size. It has a vibrating feature, but I didn't set it up, partly because I didn't have the necessary battery size (D), and partly because vibrating a baby seems weird to me. =/

Do I Blog Too Much?

I don't frequent many blogs, so I'm not really sure what the "normal" number of postings per day/week/whatever should be. I kind of post things whenever I think of them. I realized that posting every thing that pops into my head might be too much, so I pared it back some.

But what's a good posting rate?

Once a day?

Every other day?

Only when something cool happens?

These are important things to know.

Insomnia Makes Me Hamster Porkchop Plant

I haven't been sleeping lately.

Well, I guess catnaps count as sleeping, but it sure doesn't feel that way. I've been a good sleeper my entire life. I grew up in Florida, where every day during the summer there are thunder storms, and I've always been able to sleep straight through them. When my sister and I were kids, my mom would have to take us to her jazzercise class, and I'd just fall asleep in the corner amidst the loud music and stomping feet. In a nutshell, I used to be able to fall asleep in practically any situation, and then stay asleep.

But not now. :(

I go to bed pretty early... 9-ish, usually, and even though I'm totally beat, it takes me a while to fall asleep. Then once I'm finally asleep, I can't stay asleep. For a while, I was waking up every 2 or 3 hours to pee. Then it dropped down to every 1 hour, not even necessarily to pee each time. Now, it's more like every 20-30 minutes. I wake up, look around, check the clock, mutter something about something, and then fall back asleep, only to wake up 20 minutes later.

I was handling it for a while. Naps on the couch during the day definitely helped. But now I can't nap. I lay on the couch with my eyes closed for 2 hours, and then decide to get up because if I'm going to be awake, I might as well be doing something.

My drive to school takes about half an hour. I'm normally a very safe (if not angry) driver, but lately I've found myself losing miles out of the drive. I'll suddenly snap back from wherever my brain was, realize I'm about to miss my exit, and be like, "Where the hell did the last three exits go?"

I have my CNA practical exam today, and my Biology final tomorrow. I've been studying the CNA stuff and I honestly can't tell you what it is I've learned. Maybe I've learned nothing. I'm so afraid I'm going to get to the testing center, they're going to ask me how to do a partial bed bath, and I'm going to just stare at them before saying, "A what?"

I just got up two hours ago. I want to go back to sleep. I almost feel like I need to go back to sleep. My eyes are burning and I have that heavy not-quite-headache-but-almost feeling, but I know I really shouldn't go back to sleep.

Zzzzzz...

The Countdown Begins!

Jake will be home soon! I don't know for sure how soon, and if I did I wouldn't post it up anywhere, but I do know it will be soon.

For those of you who have never had to deal with military deployment schedules, "soon" can mean any time between an hour from now and a month from now. The military is also really wonderful about changing dates and times at the lastpossiblesecond. So if Jake was coming home, for example, on August 5th, I wouldn't be at all surprised if on August 4th, he called me and said, "Hey, we're coming home on the 6th now. No, wait, the 7th. Just kidding, it's the 8th. OK now it's the 5th again." And so on and so forth.

Operation Unpack My Crap has come to a halt, on account of extreme back pain. I don't think I've pulled anything or otherwise injured myself, but I'm definitely feeling more sore than usual. I'm giving myself a rest for a few days - at least until I can move without triggering a WTFPAIN attack - and then I'll start with the unpacking once more.

I have my Biology final on Wednesday, and my CNA practical exam tomorrow. I'm more nervous about the CNA exam, even though I did really well in the course. First of all, I'm afraid that I've forgotten everything, and secondly, I'm convinced that the stethoscopes they use there won't be as awesome as mine and therefore I won't be able to hear anything and I'll fail the vital signs portion of the test (scream-cry-flail). The last time I tried to use their stethoscopes, I couldn't even hear my OWN heartbeat. So... yeah. But Jake made a good point. He said there are other people passing, so the stethoscope can't be that bad. I guess he's right.