Blame It On The Moon

There are a lot of old wives tales out there, but there is one I hear more than the others--that babies come when there are full moons. Our little man's official due date actually falls on a full moon. However, I never thought to worry about the full moon the month before he was due.

Don't get excited...baby has not made three yet. However, he must have been listening when the doctor told us that once we made it through the 36th week, he would be considered full term and we should be prepared that he could make an appearance any time. Because at exactly that point, baby boy decided to shake things up.

It started out innocently enough--Husband and I were sent to the hospital last night to have some swelling checked out. We had to check in at Labor and Delivery, where at least a half dozen women in various states of pregnancy checked in while we were there.

"It's the full moon," the lady at the front desk said. "It'll keep me busy tonight."

We were sent to a room, where a very sweet nurse said it was standard procedure that they hook me up to a fetal heart monitor and a monitor to watch my uterus while she examined me for the problem we had come for. Well, the swelling was quickly forgotten when the nurse realized I was having fairly regular contractions. She decided it would be a good idea to check my cervix just in case I was dilated and in labor and, oh, hadn't noticed.

(Things they don't tell you in "What to Expect When You're Expecting" #1: Cervical exams are extremely painful and not at all fun. )

There was nothing to report there, so the nurse went to speak to the attending doctor. While she was gone, Husband and I chatted about where we were going to eat on the way home.

When she came back, she had reinforcements...another nurse and a Very.Big.IV.Needle.

(Things they don't tell you in "What to Expect When You're Expecting" #2: The IV needles they use are the size of drinking straws. )

The nurse explained that they wanted to give me IV fluids and watch the contractions--if they were braxton hicks, like I had assumed they were, they would stop with the fluids. If not, it could be a sign that I was in labor.

Labor? LABOR?!? I came in for swelling, people! Not labor! My mind went a mile a minute--I hadn't eaten since lunch. My phone battery was almost dead. We didn't have a change of clothes or our hospital bags. I needed my bags!

The nurse assured me that even if I was in labor, there would be plenty of time for Husband to go home and retrieve everything we needed. I tried not to think about the fact that the bags weren't even packed.

(My bags! I want my bags!)

I didn't have time to worry for long, however, because the nurse stuck the straw IV in my arm and, despite my "excellent" veins, had to start over on the other arm. Ouch.

And then I was distracted by our little man's heartbeat on the monitor, along with his movements...it was fun to "hear" him respond to the nurse when she poked my belly, and to the sound of his dad's voice. Husband and I were then left alone to mull over the fact that there was a possibility we'd be taking our baby home at the end of this trip.

(With no bags!)

By then, it was well past 2 AM, and we tried to get some sleep--just in case we needed the energy to have a baby the next morning. Husband managed to doze off, but I remained awake most of the night--mainly due to our son acting in the way that has become typical of him: every time the nurse would get the monitor picking up his heartbeat, he would move away, causing the nurse to return to our room and relocate him. This happened at least a dozen times, and we located his heartbeat on all four corners of my belly. The nurse was absolutely stumped as to what position he may be in. He was obviously enjoying his game, and luckily, we had a nurse with a good sense of humor.

It was a very long night. Thanks to all the fluid they were pumping into me, I went to the bathroom a gazillion times.

(Things they don't tell you in "What to Expect When You're Expecting" # 3: It is very difficult to go to the bathroom when you're in a hospital gown, dragging an IV pole attached to the garden hose in your right arm, with a bleeding first attempt at the IV insertion on the left arm, two monitors and cords wrapped around your belly, and swollen feet.)

However, it wasn't what I would call a bad night. In between the bathroom trips and the monitor adjustments, I was comforted by the sounds of my baby on one side of me and my sleeping husband on my other. I watched Husband's face while he snoozed, relaxed and with his long lashes shut--I hope our little man has his daddy's eyelashes.

Around five AM, the nurse came in to adjust the monitor and stayed to chat. My contractions, which had gotten stronger as the night wore on, were now coming two minutes apart. Very kindly, she told me to prepare for the idea that labor later that day was pretty likely.

(Even though I didn't have our bags).

Several hours later, Husband and I waited anxiously for the new shift nurse to come in and see what was going on in my lower half. I have to admit, I felt a pang of disappointment when there was no change to my cervix and the nurse told us we could go home. Since I was still having contractions (not as close together as they had been, but stronger) it could be hours--or weeks--before our baby made his appearance.

(Things they don't tell you in What to Expect When You're Expecting #4: Just because you're having contractions doesn't mean you're having a baby. )

So home we went, still contracting, still swollen, and with no baby. But we have a doctor's appointment tomorrow and everything will get checked again--we'll also have an ultrasound to see if baby is breech. If he is, that could explain why I had contractions all night and nothing else. If that's the case, we'll talk about our options of getting him to turn and c-sections. But that's a worry for tomorrow.

For the rest of the night, I'm just going to worry about packing our bags.

Three Years Ago Today, One Month Away: A Letter to my Husband

Dear Husband,
Three years ago today, you woke me up with a text message at 5 AM: "Good morning, baby, are you awake?" I was--I had been laying in the semi-darkness of a hotel room, listening to the even breathing of Godmother Doctor in the bed next to me for some time. She, like me, has never been a morning person--when we shared a room in college, I often woke her up from across the room to avoid getting a pillow hurled at my head. But three years ago today, she woke up with a smile on her face and no argument about the early hour.

My parents were in the room that adjoined to the one she and I were sharing. My Godmother was next door to them, and you and your family, plus Godfather Engineer and Godmother Teacher, were a few hallways down. I woke my parents up--my Dad was already awake and waiting to see if I actually got up on time--and Godmother Doctor and I left our hotel room together to go find coffee for everyone.

The morning was beautiful--it had rained the night before, but the day was dawning clear and bright. The hotel grounds were lovely--Disney has a way of making everything perfect, and the resort hotel we were staying in did not disappoint. The theme of our resort was old Southern elegance, and everywhere you looked were grand oak trees and hydrangeas and magnolias. Every now and then a bunny would run across our path as we made our way to the main building of the resort where the big plantation dining hall was located.

Godmother Doctor and I found you there--you were finishing up a breakfast and reading the paper. I did not think it was bad luck that I saw you. Nothing could have brought me bad luck that morning.

You walked us back to our rooms, then kissed me on the forehead--I wouldn't see you for several hours. I wanted you to stay--I hadn't liked being away from you the night before, but it was Disney policy. We delivered the coffee to the waiting family members, and the preparations began: hair was curled, make-up was applied, jewelry was donned. The time seemed to fly by, and before I knew it, I was in a limo with Godmother Doctor and your sister, who was encouraging me to eat part of a bagel.

"She won't eat it," Godmother Doctor told her.
"Too nervous to eat?" Your sister asked sympathetically.
"She never eats in the morning," Godmother Doctor answered, surprised. "She's not nervous."

And I wasn't nervous. I wasn't nervous when the limo arrived at our destination--your sister hurried inside to join you and your family but Godmother Doctor stayed with me in the comfortable little room that was just off the chapel. We were the last to arrive, and while we waited the final few minutes for the planner to get everyone settled inside, we joked around and took pictures. I wasn't nervous when she left to join everyone in the chapel, leaving me alone for the first time in several days. I wasn't nervous when the planner came to get me, or as I took my place next to my Dad behind the double doors that would lead us into the chapel. A bell tolled 12 times, the doors opened, and music started: "A Dream is a Wish Your Heart Makes", from Cinderella. I was not nervous as I walked up the aisle--I took in the beautiful chapel that I had previously only seen in photos and the Samantha Brown "Great Hotels" episode I had watched obsessively in the past weeks. What struck me was the light--there were so many windows and the sunshine streamed in. I was not nervous as I winked at my mother, who started to cry, or as I saw the picture perfect window that framed Cinderella's castle. And after my father announced that it was he and my mother who gave me over to you that day, and the ceremony started, my only thought was of you--the pressure of your hand in mine, the smile on your lips, and the way your eyes never strayed from my face.

It is with love and joy that your families are with you on this happy occasion, as a new branch of the family tree is begun. From this day forward, you will stand together, hand in hand.

Three years ago today we started the new branch, and a month from today, our branch expands--it is the official due date of our son. Whether or not he will come on that day is up to him, but the special quality of that date is not lost on me.

The past three years have not always been easy. But--and I am not exaggerating this at all on the sentimental occasion of our wedding anniversary--the challenges we have faced have not been internal. We have never gone to bed angry or raised our voices to each other. We have never stormed out on each other or intentionally caused pain. We have weathered life, and it's ups and downs, just as our wedding vows described: together, hand in hand. We are lucky, lucky people--we have something, I am sure, that most people search for all of their lives and rarely find.

A month from today, we add to our family. I will admit--I am more nervous about the pending arrival of our son than I was walking down the aisle. Don't get me wrong--it's not because I have any doubts about our abilities. I just think getting this little dude out of my ever-expanding belly isn't going to be as easy as getting dressed up in a princess gown and having fabulous photographs taken in The Magic Kingdom.

Yes, I know it won't be easy--parenting isn't. I may be nervous about a lot of things when it comes to the newest addition, but you--we-- are not one of them. They say fairy tales don't come true. That you're not supposed to wait for Prince Charming to sweep you off your feet, and that in this day and age, there are no "happily ever afters". Well, we're proving them all wrong--together, hand in hand.

I love you.

Your Wife

Always Be Prepared...

There is a lot to think about when you're expecting a new baby in the house. Not only do you have to arm yourself with all the gear a baby needs, but you have to know how to use the gear and--more importantly--what to do when the gear ceases to work and the baby is STILL crying.

I had no doubt that my husband was going to handle above-mentioned situations just fine--he tends to be pretty unflappable. But he received a couple of things at our showers that now have me absolutely sure.

The first, given to him by a colleague who has worked with him enough to understand how his brain works, is a box set called "The Baby's Owner's Manual: Operating Instructions, Trouble-Shooting Tips and Advice on First-Year Maintenance", and includes a book, a handy fill-in-the-blank notepad for caregivers, magnets and a growth chart. The book is the real gem of this set, and reads like a car manual of baby instructions. Some of my favorite pearls of wisdom include:

• The first chapter, entitled "Preparation and Home Installation" starts out by saying, "please inspect your model carefully and check for all standard parts described previously. If any parts appear to be missing or inoperational, it is recommended that you consult the baby's service provider immediately." It also offers tips on "selecting and installing a pacifier".


• Chapter three is called "Feeding: Understanding the Baby's Power Supply", and there is much discussion on programming the feeding schedule and dealing with "input" and "output".


• In "Programming Sleep Mode", chapter four, there are diagrams on configuring sleep space and using sleep mode outside the nursery.


• "Tracking Motor and Sensory Applications" is a topic in chapter 6, "Growth and Development".

The best thing about this book is that it is truly practical--both of us have read it cover to cover already, and I actually found its section on breastfeeding particularly helpful: "The baby comes pre-programmed to begin breastfeeding almost immediately. The baby owner, however, requires additional training." The writing is very straight forward. I also enjoyed the footnote at the very beginning of the section: "the breasts of the male parent are not compatible with the food intake system...we recommend you review this information very carefully and transfer the manual to the female parent for review."

The second gift designed especially for the Man of the House came from my Godmother. In a box addressed solely to him, Husband found a tool belt stuffed full of tools--but not the kind to fix a leaky faucet. Instead, he found baby survival tools, all practical and most hysterical:

• Diapers and wipes


• A poncho for unexpected diaper changing showers


• A baggie with a pacifier (to plug the baby up) and ear plugs for him (if the baby plug fails)


• A bag of Swedish Fish (his favorite) and a Red Bull, because Daddy-energy has to be kept up at all times


• Tongs for toxic diaper removal


• A turkey baster, to be used to shine up baby's tushie


• Rubber gloves, face masks and protective eye wear


• A hazardous waste sign


• Baby-occupying rattles and bib


• "Be Prepared"-- a book designed for new Dads

We plan to hang the tool belt on the side of the changing table, where it will be easily accessed and all accouterments put to good use.

The Ups of Pregnancy

While waiting out the final five weeks before our son's arrival, I'm enjoying the "ups" of pregnancy:


The heat is up: And I thought it was hot in April. Our sweaty little city is reaching 100+ degrees in the late afternoon these days, and the humidity is so bad it can make you feel like you've been swimming in a pool full of bathwater the moment you step out the door. And that's for people that are not currently a walking incubator, weighing more than they ever have before...

The weight is up: Several months ago, I couldn't fathom putting on 30 pounds. I'm now at pound 32, which my doctor assures me is not fat, but baby and water retention. Which brings me to....

Swelling up: Fingers and toes are starting to get puffy, so I spend the better part of the evening with my feet propped on a pillow and....

Eating up: Hello, appetite! Where have you been all my life? No new cravings to report except that I want everything to be cold. The list of foods I have put in the freezer has increased exponentially over the past few months. You'd be surprised what tastes good frozen: bananas, oranges (you have to catch them before they freeze all the way) and chocolate milk are topping my list right now (not at the same time, though). Our ice cube trays no longer hold ice--they hold various types of juice which are so yummy frozen.

And, because I know you're wondering, there are some things that don't work well frozen. Like Snickers or Starbursts, which get too hard to chew.

Of course, every time I eat, our little guy gets....


Hiccups: I started feeling these about a month ago and now they happen all the time. They make me laugh, because baby hiccups are the cutest-sounding thing in the world. Which makes me wonder--if a baby hiccups in the womb, and you can't hear him, is he really making noise?

Speaking of the little man. We're not so sure he's still....

Bottom up: At my last check up, the doctor was unsure if he was still head down. It seems like our son is getting ready for his Cirque Du Soleil contortionist audition and has wedged himself in my tummy sideways, with his head aiming at my left hip and his knees and feet pointing towards my right armpit. She said we weren't to worry about his positioning yet, and I think he may have moved since then, since I am feeling his kicks, pokes and nudges in some different places these days. So instead of worrying about what direction he's pointing, I've been busying myself with....


Setting up: Ah, let the nesting begin. Actually, I can't take much of the credit here--Husband and my Mom have been doing most of the heavy lifting while I perch somewhere and be bossy. We still have a little ways to go, but the nursery is now looking less like a free-for-all room full of excess to a room where a baby might actually be comfortable. And even though I have all this help, it doesn't keep me from being....

Uptight: My obsessive nature has been accelerated by being pregnant. Luckily, I have a mother who understands my need to have the Tupperware cabinet organized right this second and a husband who doesn't blink when I organize his side of the closet by shirt type, and then by color. Okay, it's not just his shirts. It's his socks, too. Alright, alright...it's the whole closet. Everyone has been very patient with me, because overall....


The excitement level is up: Every day brings us closer to meeting the newest addition!

Life is Like a Game of Football: Life Lessons From Father to Son

I was very excited when my husband approached me about writing his own blog post. So now, sports fans, a word from the father...

In our house, college football is important. Football season starts in July, when the preview magazines and (more importantly) NCAA football for the PlayStation 3 arrive in stores. Saturdays in the fall are sacred--there is tradition to be followed and songs and chants to be learned. But these things are not the only--or the most important--things I want my son to take away from football. There are life lessons to be gleaned from football, Little Man:

• Showing your colors is a good thing. You’ll find friends you never knew you had, doors will open for you (some will also close) and you won’t have to waste energy hiding your feelings.
• Even the greatest teams don’t score a touchdown on every play, but great teams execute each play. Do your best with each thing you’re given. Small successes build towards great ones. Don’t fret a sack or a loss, just do better the next time.
• Some of the most important players on the team won’t ever get enough credit. Offensive linemen and defensive lineman are key to victory. They can change a game, but they almost never share the limelight with a star Quarterback. That’s okay. People who know the game understand it takes the whole team to make the Quarterback look good.
• Coaches call the plays, but they can’t make them. As your parents, we can tell you all we know, but you’re the one who has to make the final decision. We can provide you with a plan and we can teach you skills, but you’ve got to play the game yourself.
• Fans will always remember your greatest successes and your greatest defeats, but it’s what you do tomorrow that counts. Winning a championship is great, but every team starts the next season with the same record. Having a losing season doesn’t make you a loser. Focus on the possibility of tomorrow, rather than the feelings of yesterday.
• It’s okay to love your family. There is great tragedy in a loss, but it pales in comparison to the great joy of a key win.

We are already gearing up for football season, which is shaping up to be very exciting for several reasons--the most being that our own little running back will be with us for every kick off.

Things I Love Right Now

Things I love right now...

• Stores with parking spots for new and expectant mothers.
• Strawberries and creme frappucino ice cream.
• Clean public restrooms.
• My father's old gigantic t-shirts, which are about the only things that fit me these days.
• Rewatching all my favorite movies.
• Quiet nights spent with my husband, watching West Wing.
• The teeny tiny blue socks with footballs on them that my mom and I found last week.
• Sleeping in. In 6 more weeks, my days of sleeping until I feel like getting up are over...for 18 years. And I can't wait.

Book Worm

I love books. Some people have comfort food, I have comfort books. I love re-reading my old favorites and I love discovering new books. Books are woven into my memory as much as people. I remember my father reading The Berenstein Bears books to me long after I was able to read them to myself, but I liked the cadence of his voice. I remembering devouring The Baby-Sitters Club when I was a "tween" (although the word had not be coined at the time), and how my mom would bring me to the store whenever I finished one so I could purchase the next. The summer I read all of the Anne of Green Gables series I was 14, and--like the character I loved so much--I was freckly and likely to lapse into a day dream. And then there's the Harry Potter series--a set of books which I started reading in high school and finished reading as an engaged woman. My pre-ordered copy of the latest tale would arrive at my doorstep and I would read it straight through--skipping class, parties, calling in sick to work and staying up all night if I had to. When the final book of the series came out, Husband got me several liters of pepsi, my favorite take out and a bag of cookies, then sat up with me for the 13 hours it took me to get through it the first time. That's true love.

But I digress.

I especially love children's books. Whenever I'm in a bookstore or a library, I always visit the kid's section. Long before our little guy was even a notion in our heads, I would spend time in the children's section and occasionally even make a purchase. When I worked as a nanny, my favorite time of the day was always story time, and I never said no to "just one more". I have always believed that it is never too early to start reading to a child. I've been reading Winnie the Pooh to our little guy since before he technically had ears. I can't wait to share my love of reading with my son, and here are some of my all time favorites:

Amos: The Story of an Old Dog and his Couch by Susan Seligson: A story about a red dog who missed his owners so much when they went out that he figured out how to drive his couch ("vrrroooooom!") around town to follow them. Best description of rush hour traffic ever: "It was bumper to bumper to couch to bumper."

But Not the Hippopotomus by Susan Boynton: a beautifully simple and charming book about a little hippo trying to fit in. Your Personal Penguin is also a gem by this author.

The Tale of Mrs. Tiggy-Winkle by Beatrix Potter: I may have just liked this book because I love to say "Tiggy-Winkle".

The Magic School Bus series by Joanna Cole: Ms. Frizzle was the teacher everyone wanted, and there's something to learn in each book about science.

Mr. Brown Can Moo, Can You? by Dr. Suess: My all time favorite Dr. Suess book. I loved the animal noises and the rhymes.

The Velveteen Rabbit by Majery Williams: The classic story about a little boy who loved his stuffed bunny so much, it made him real. I had this on tape when I was little, and I listened to it so many times I could recite it by heart.

I could go on forever--The Chronicles of Narnia, anything by Beverly Cleary or poetry by Shel Silverstein--but I'll stop here. I just can't wait to wrap my son up in a soft blanket, settle into our rocking chair, and tell him my favorite stories. "There was once a velveteen rabbit, and in the beginning, he was really splendid. His coat was spotted brown and white, and he had real thread whiskers..."

A Day in The Life...

Hello readers! It's me, Baby Boy, reporting to you today from in the womb, because Mommy is too darn tired to think straight. Since her diminished mental capacity is sort of my fault, I figured I would step in and give you folks a blow by blow account of what it's like to be 7 weeks away from entering the world.

I lead a pretty good life. It's cozy, although it's starting to get a little tight in here...I try and stretch my legs every now and then, but there's these squishy things in my way. If I push too hard on them, Mommy jiggles me around. Not my favorite sensation. Sometimes when she jiggles me, I stop stretching, but other times, I stretch further. Just to show her who is REALLY in charge.

I like it when she rocks back and forth and leans waaay back. That gives me more room. I don't like it when she leans forward. That squishes me. So I kick her. I'm not trying to be mean, but a kid can only take so much.

My favorite part of the day is when Daddy comes home. I know it's him because of the big voice. He talks to me and I get as close as I can to the big voice and kick back at it...once again, I'm not trying to be mean. I just have lots I want to say to him and I don't have a big voice of my own yet.

My other favorite time of the day is 3 AM. I don't have a clock in here, but I can tell it's about that time because Mommy has finally fallen into a deep sleep and she's all relaxed...then I take aim at a squishy part here on the inside and kick and poke it until she wakes up. Sometimes she goes back to sleep, but on good nights she stays awake and plays with me. I poke her with my knee or my foot, and she pokes back. I love it! Plus it makes her laugh, and I like to make her laugh.

Sometimes she turns on the TV and I hear that familiar song: "I'll be there for yoo-oou..". It must be Mommy's favorite show because she watches it ALL the time. She tries to be very quiet and not wake Daddy up. I don't know why she does that, because in a few minutes I'll start kicking really hard so he can feel me, too. Then we'll all be awake and I can hear the big voice and Mommy laughing. As I said before, life is good.

I know you're all wondering...when am I going to make my big arrival? Well, if I told you, it wouldn't be much fun now, would it? Oh, I'll know when I'm ready. And when I'm ready, they'll be nothing stopping me.

So until then, this is Baby Boy, signing off. See you on the other side.

The Grand Scheme of Things...

It is easy to get caught up in the worries of life. There is never enough money. Sick family members. Still missing our kitty. I was definitely feeling the doldrums of the first day back to reality after a holiday weekend when I went in for my bi-weekly checkup yesterday.

But it's hard to feel blue when the little man in your tummy insists on showing off for the doctor, moving around so much that she cracked up. He was so active that his movements interfered with hearing his heart beat on the doppler. Instead of the sweet "thud-thud-thud" of his heart, all we heard was "thwack-rumble-rumble-kick" as he performed his own little personal tap dance.

"Did you eat something really sugary before you came?" She asked me. I grinned at her.

"Nope. This is a typical afternoon in our world."

Our little man measures exactly where he should and weighs about 4 pounds. Doctor says if he comes on his due date, we'll be looking at an eight pound baby with personality.

"I wish all my patients pregnancies were going as well as yours," she commented as we watched my stomach bounce around.

So for the rest of the afternoon, I still worried about money. And family. And I still missed our cat. But in the grand scheme of things, I have a healthy little man growing inside me--who responds to his dad's voice and plays poking games with him, whose movements I wait for in the morning when I wake up and smile when I feel, and who is already making everyone around him a little happier. And that is what is most important.