4 weeks to go

36 weeks: It came so fast. The holidays really help speed things along in the final trimester. Maddie continues to stay head-down, feet in my ribs or poking out toward the side. Her movements are slower, more controlled, though sometimes at night she still dances around, hands and feet both moving to her own little beat. When she really stretches her legs out, I like to tap or tickle the bottoms of her feet and feel her move them around. It's so fun to interact with her.

Today is my last day of work...maternity leave, here I come! I will probably spend my first week off sleeping like a log. I seriously cannot get enough sleep these days. Thankfully Maddie is super quiet at night and so I've been getting good, hard sleep (at least until I have to turn over). I've been so blessed to get some rest in these weeks. I think we've been going so hard for so long that my body just shuts down at night in order to be ready for the next day. I cannot wait to be off work, relaxing at home, preparing for Christmas.

down but not out

At my 33 week check-up yesterday the doctor confirmed that our little one has migrated into the head-down position. We knew she had moved somewhat because her little movements are in totally different areas than before. Mostly she likes to curl her toes around my ribs and hang out like a little baby bat.

Last Friday she assumed such an awkward, protruding position along my left side that we thought she might just pop through my skin and onto the bed, like a little projectile baby. I've heard crazy stories, but when you actually see your belly bending and stretching beyond any of your wildest imaginings, you finally understand just how crazy this pregnancy thing really is.

Ben took a picture, but it doesn't quite capture the feeling (ouch!) nor the hilarity of the event. She actually assumed the position twice before settling into her current c-shaped arrangement. Since our doc confirmed the position now Ben can sing and conversate with her without wondering if he's talking into her little bootie.

Giving Thanks

I have an amazing family, and for them I am truly grateful.

A few pictures from the big day:

3 pregnant ladies...my cousin's wife at 25 weeks, my sister-in-law at 24 weeks and me at 32 weeks


















My hubby, who is quite the pushover for our little niece...can you imagine how he'll be when Maddie arrives??!!!

Why Oh Why...

...do they make flesh-colored speedos?

Since we started training for our triathlon last January, I've been frequenting a local pool to swim a few times a week. Since I've been pregnant, it's been a great way to get exercise without overworking my heartrate or joints.

Which brings me to my current dilemma: Why do grown men (old grown men, at that) think it is okay to wear flesh-colored speedos, let alone wear speedos at all? As if it weren't bad enough seeing these men several times a week at the pool, a recent occurrence made me want to hang up my goggles altogether.

Flesh-colored Speedo Old Guy (hereafter referred to as FSOG) undresses right on the pool deck, and on the first occassion in which I first laid be-goggled eyes on him, I thought to myself, "the guy left his undershorts in his sweatpants." But, upon closer inspection, I realized that no, in fact, he was wearing what I now know to be the aforementioned speedos.

As if this wasn't enough to make me want to switch lanes (let alone pools), FSOG is also a splasher. There are a few annoying swimming styles which happen to find the open lane right next to me every time (much like the phenomena in which you find yourself at the grocery store, always behind the person who forgets a certain item and leaves their cart in front of yours to run back to aisle 1,072 and return 3 weeks later). Anyway, among the most annoying styles are FSOG aka "the splasher," green speedo guy aka "the water plow" and "Olympic Hopeful" nos. 1 and 2. All of them swim in such a way as to move the greatest amount of water from their lane into mine, filling my open, breathing mouth with buckets of chlorinated H20.

But I'm getting away from the real story. Just when I though I'd seen it all, I found myself swimming along (quite well, despite my 7-month pregnant belly) in the deep end of the pool. Basic pool etiquette (not unlike public bathroom stall etiquette) led me to choose a lane at least once removed from the swimmers on either side. To my right, one open lane between me and the rope. To my left, 3 open lanes between myself and Olympic Hopeful no. 2. Guess what lane FSOG chooses? The one between me and the rope. As I returned to the side of the pool, I thought to myself, I'll just have to move over a lane, not as much to keep etiquette as to avoid drowning in only 10 feet of water.

As I neared the edge, FSOG dove in, not only splashing me with lots of water (a given), but giving my de-fogged goggled eyes a clear, open glimpse of his old, fleshy, hairy crack above the top of his old, stretched-out, flesh-colored speedos.

when did i become such a naughty blogger?

I think about this blog all the time. I read blogs every day. But I can't seem to bring myself to my own blog to type anything worthwhile.

My life has been a little crazy lately. I think I have a mild case of compassion fatigue, or the exhaustion that comes from caring for others all the time. I mean, caring is my job, it's what I do. It's what I enjoy, for the most part. But it can get overwhelming.

I thought I would break down this past weekend, when it felt as if everything had bubbled to the surface: mom's cancer and treatment options, taking my licensure exam, opening new cases, leading a support group at church...the list went on and on. I found myself actually dreading the thought of listening to one more person's sad story and providing compassion. I'm so ashamed to admit that, but there you have it.

That was Sunday. Today is Wednesday and I'm feeling a lot better. I purposefully kept my schedule light this week so as to avoid overwhelming myself with client stories. I've scheduled in time to study for my exam (long story---rescheduled for next week). I'm not feeling so fatigued and I think I've been a pretty good counselor to a handful of kids this week.

Pregnancy is hard work; don't let anyone tell you any different. I think that the emotions of pregnancy coupled with the month I've had led to the feelings of exhaustion described above. But more than hard work, pregnancy is a constant source of joy. This little bean, who moves all the time, never ceases to make me smile and even laugh out loud. I wonder what she's doing in there when I feel multiple taps to the left, or a lot of firm stretching in the front. The last few weeks she's been kicking me hard, multiple times in a row, so others have been able to experience her movement. This morning she was moving slowly, rubbing some little body part against my hand which was pressed against the upper part of my belly.

This morning I told my hubby that I hope it's not vain to be so in love with my belly. I don't even think of it as me any more, but rubbing, touching, talking, cuddling, cupping the belly are all ways of connecting with and showing affection to the little one within. It is so blessed. I am so blessed.

and because a baby update is needed

I had such good intentions for writing frequently, as I'm sure most bloggers do. But I find myself with less and less interesting things to write about. Who wants to hear about my growing belly besides a few dedicated Maddie-Fans? (Considering they're the only ones reading this blog, I guess it's not such a bad thing I'm pregnancy-obsessed).

22 weeks and feeling great! Pregnancy seems to suit me well, and I feel good most days. There are some stretching pains but they are infrequent. Madeleine likes to hang out on one side of my belly, especially when I've been sitting for a while. But she'll move if I get up and walk around or rub my belly where she's balled up. Sleeping improved greatly when I purchased my deluxe plush body pillow from Costco for $11.99 (eat your heart out, pregnancy pillows)!

Madeleine moves all the time, and it still catches me by surprise and makes me giggle. In the early morning, she often wakes me up with gentle yet pronounced kicks to my side. Ben has been able to feel her during these morning exercise routines, and it is fun to snuggle with his hand cupping my side, both of us laughing with amazement at her movement. He also talks to her frequently, telling her all about his day. Our poor dog Hanalei always tries to wedge her way in when he talks to the belly, as his voice is high and sing-songy, much like the "daddy voice" he uses with her.

The nursery is nearly done: walls painted, peg rail hung, pictures up, crib and dresser in place. We still have to get new closet knobs and Ben's mom is working diligently on our crib bedding. I feel great that we are well ahead of the game and we did it early enough that I was able to help out.

We found out sad news last week. My mom has been diagnosed with breast cancer, so we await a more precise prognosis and surgery details. For a few days I was in quite a funk, but I started to feel people's prayers set in and an overwhelming sense of peace has been with me lately. One thing infertility has taught me is to be patient and to trust the One who created me. I totally trust that he who began a good work in my mom will be faithful to complete it. And I trust that he is a God of healing. So I cling to these truths and do my best to be strong and prayerful for my mom.

September 11th

I've read a lot of 9/11 posts in the past few days, as well as newspaper articles, and last night I watched a 9/11 TV documentary while babysitting for our friends. Even my alma mater is seeking bits about where people were on 9/11. So here's my story...

September 11th, 2001 was my first day of graduate school at the University of Pennsylvania School of Social Work in Philadelphia. After a few years of working in children's grief, I knew I wanted and needed a graduate degree to do what I wanted most--provide support and hope for grieving children and families. As I rode the train into the city, I looked forward to the day when I would have my degree and be able to fulfill my calling.

As I walked into my second class of the day in our small, old building, the TV showed a scene of a tall building smoking. I turned to another student and asked what was happening, to the extent of "is this for real?" He didn't know much, other than a plane had flown into one of the World Trade Center towers in New York. (Not being from the East coast, I had no idea what I was seeing--how my perspective changed that day) We watched, mouths agape, as other students filed in and immediately turned toward the TV.

My professor arrived, watched TV for a few minutes, and then turned it off and suggested we start class. The discomfort in the room was palable--were we really going to try and focus on learning when a major disaster was occuring in our backyard? It wasn't 15 minutes before someone popped their head in the door to say classes had been cancelled and it was recommended that all students and staff vacate the school.

My friend and I walked hurriedly and quietly, unsure of what to say in such a time. Upon arriving at the train station, we were informed that all trains in and out of Philly had been cancelled due to the terrorist attacks. I phoned my husband on my cell phone and asked that he and my friend's husband come to get us right away. I remember that my cell phone kept saying "All circuits are busy." So when I called my parents I used my calling card and a payphone. As my parents lived on the West coast, and we were far away in the East, I called to let them know that the attacks had happened close to where we were, but that we were all safe. My mom was grateful for the call, but didn't seem alarmed. (She told me later, upon watching a news report on TV, she burst into tears when they announced Philadelphia as a possible target for the attacks. My family simply had no idea how close things are out East.)

After reaching our husbands and making a plan for pickup, we ducked into a nearby bar to watch TV and find out more information. The bar was silent except for the TV and a few people trying half-heartedly to crack jokes and lighten the mood. All of us stood, transfixed, eyes toward the few TVs in the place. Tears rolled down cheeks of those around me. I just couldn't believe this was happening. My safe, secure world became suddenly so strange and surreal. I remember wanting so desperately to be home in Sandy, Oregon, where terrorists had no targets or interests.

Our husbands arrived in a short 45 minutes, much to our surprise. We expected that the roads would be packed with traffic given the movement en masse from the cities. That afternoon, we hooked up our TV (for the majority of our married life--6 plus years--we've not had TV, a conscious choice that started to improve the quality of our studying and eventually became a commitment to spending quality time together). For days, weeks even, we were hooked on the news reports. They showed the same scenes over and over: planes crashing, towers falling, people running away from ground zero crying, screaming, and covered in white ash.

In the weeks to come we realized just how great the impact of 9/11 was on our community. People in my class lost loved ones in the attacks. Families in our church lost fathers. The couple I baby-sat for regularly had multiple funerals in a few short weeks because so many of their friends and colleagues died.

This couple wanted so badly to protect their children (ages 3 and 6 months) from the horrible reality of the terrorist attacks. They didn't turn on their TV except at night while the children slept. They spoke to me in code about funeral arrangements and the extent of their grief. And they tried their hardest to keep their toddler safe from the confusion, sadness, and terror gripping his small Jewish school and community where so many lives had been lost. But I remember so distinctly that one afternoon as I sat on the floor with this little guy, he was acting out the very events of that day. He would use large red cardboard blocks to build a "tall tower" and then fly his small grey plane into the side, sending the blocks tumbling to the ground. I sat silently beside him as he repeated this action over and over and over.

In that moment, I knew that life had changed dramatically not only for me, but for everyone whose life would be touched or shattered by this tragic day. And it renewed my commitment to my calling, to the anticipation I felt that first day of school on 9/11. Death will always be a part of life; grief will forever be a reality. Counseling will always be one way to provide hope. And healing will always be possible.

over the hump

We've made it past twenty weeks, past the halfway point. And boy, does it feel good. Today we went in for our level II ultrasound and it might well be one of the happiest and most amazing times of my life. For the first time, going into this ultrasound, I really had no fears. I knew that what is growing inside is perfect and complete. Of course the u/s confirmed this for me, and now we are the proud owners of 16 beautiful shots of our beautiful daughter (which of course we will share with the grandparents).

I didn't expect to cry in the sonographer's office, but as I stared at our lovely little one, I was so overwhelmed with gratitude and amazement that I couldn't help but let the silent tears come. God is so good to give us this perfect gift. Our sonographer found out that my hubby is a pastor and she revealed she, too, is a believer. Throughout the u/s she kept saying how "beautiful" and "perfect" our baby is, and "what a gift" and "blessing" she will be to us. Near the end, she made us promise to bring the baby back to visit. At the end of the hour, I gave her a big hug without even thinking about it. She who had been a perfect stranger at 9am became an intimate friend by 10.

The creation of a human being is something I cannot comprehend as mere science. No, her body is a perfect miracle, of such detail and intricate design that it boggles the mind. Her strong, beating heart with an opening in the aortic septum that closes at birth. A placenta that delivers and screens and filters all necessary nutrients she needs for 40 weeks. A brain with clearly distinguishable hemispheres. Little, soft mouth that opens and closes and drinks in amniotic fluid. Stomach, kidneys, liver, bladder--all in working order. Unbelievable. Don't even get me started on her daddy's turned up nose and gorgeous profile. I can't stop bragging and she's not even here!

I don't know how we can possibly wait 20 more weeks to meet her.

more dreams

It was inevitable. Every pregnant blogger I follow (and believe me, there's lots) at some point has written about their whacko dreams. So far my nighttime meanderings have been extremely complex and also very memorable. I've had some very sweet and wonderful dreams, and also some strange ones that play off my most extreme fears and insecurities.But the past few nights I got into the just plain weird.

I won't bore you with the details of my bizarre dreams, other than to say that two nights ago my baby was the size of a small hampster and last night's dream involved a deformed newborn who talked and disappeared bit by bit with each wipe of her breastmilk poop-covered tooshie. It was the type of dream where midway through, my conscious mind said to my unconscious mind, "I know this is just a freaky pregnancy dream. Real babies might be born with physical deformities, but they don't talk or disappear when you wipe their booties."

The rest of the dream my conscious and unconscious minds played tennis, volleying back and forth between somewhat real and completely surreal. The poop was definitely "real"--yellow, seedy and all over the place. Finally finishing cleaning up the poop and putting a diaper the size of a band-aid on my now itsy-bitsy baby: not real. Actually, after I put the band-aid on, my baby turned into one of those old school, paper punch-out, dress-up dolls, the kind where the clothes wrapped around the flat, skinny lady with little white tabs. Freaky.

But there were real elements of the dream as well. At one point I distinctly said to my talking newborn, who had just asked about me the extent of her deformities, "I love you just the way you are." And I really meant it.

That part of the dream is probably the most significant. If you look at what most first-time moms worry about, it's that something will be wrong with their child. Will I make it through the first trimester? Is the nuchal fold okay? What will the blood tests say? 20-week ultrasound normal? Growing at the same rate as other babies? 10 fingers and 10 toes? The fears and worries are nearly constant, and I know from my friends who are moms that the worrying never stops. But what it always comes down to is that no matter what, I do and I will love this baby more than ever possibly imagined. You cannot put a limit on a mother's love, no matter what the outcome. Very rarely do we have "perfect" children. As a matter of fact, I have yet to meet a perfect child.

So I say, bring it on dreams. Let my conscious mind put the unconscious in its place. This baby was loved well before she anything more than a clump of cells growing and dividing.

dreaming of you

Dear Little One,

Last night I dreamt of you. The dream began with the realization that you were crying in an upstairs room. When I reached you, your head and neck were wet with tears and frustration. I picked you up and you nuzzled into my neck and chest, calming immediately with what can only be described as familiarity. I knew instinctly that you recognized my smell, my heartbeat, the sound of my voice and the shape of my body.

It was the first time I held you, and once you were still I couldn't keep from admiring every piece of your perfect, beautiful face. You had wispy brown hair that curled away from your face, almond shaped newborn-grey eyes, the sweetest button nose and full, kissable lips. Maybe it's vain, but you looked like me, and I know because I was specifically checking to see whether your dad's or my features found their way to your tiny face.

I kissed your face and your lips over and over, letting you suck on my lower lips and "kiss" me back, laughing at your hungry innocence. As I carried you down the stairs, your dad came to meet us and we couldn't believe how blessed we were to have you in that moment. Every wish, every dream fulfilled in a tiny, perfect, precious little baby.Our baby. Our friends were all gathered around, waiting to see you and welcome you home.

The dream ended as I made my way to a comfy chair to nurse you for the first time. I couldn't wait to hold you to my skin and provide you with the nourishment you sought, rooting around at your hand and my face as we approached the chair. Your father walked carefully beside us, moving things out of the way, clearing the chair, and smiling the biggest smile I've ever seen on his face.

It was the sweetest dream I've ever had the pleasure of dreaming, and when I woke to my own bed I wasn't sad the dream had ended. I cupped my hand around your small shape in my belly and fell back asleep, dreaming of the wonderful days ahead.

Love,

Mama

if this just doesn't make your day...

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dcCZABr_G1k

is it a him or a her, a ma'am or a sir?

At our 16 week appointment yesterday we got to hear the baby's heartbeat again. According to our doctor, it's "perfect!" I started to giggle and the heartbeat got all covered up by spasmodic static. :)

After answering a few questions, my doctor (the best ever) said "how about we take a look and see what we can see in there?" I about jumped off the table into his arms I was so happy! He told us to wait while he checked into the availability of an ultrasound room and the hubby and I danced around the room, so thrilled to see our little peanut again and *maybe* find out the sex.

I had wanted to ask about the possibility of an ultrasound, but just recently the staff hung posters ALL OVER the office saying that they offer one ultrasound to confirm pregnancy in the first trimester and the next u/s happens at 20 weeks with the perinatalogist. I figured they must have been getting lots of requests for ultrasounds in order to place these posters up everywhere. So the fact that Dr. W offered, well we were just beside ourselves with joy!

First of all, let me just say how nice it is to leave the transvaginal probe behind and move onto the more commonly recognized transducer wand which is placed on the OUTSIDE of the belly. Happy part number one.

The baby was so active the entire time, moving arms and legs and turning and dancing around in there. We weren't sure we'd get to see anything because little peanut had its legs firmly pressed together for most of the ultrasound, as in "there's nothing to see here, folks, move along." Our doctor tapped the u/s transducer around on my belly a few times to try and get those legs separated...and for a split moment, they opened.

Based on the doctor's short glimpse, we think it's a....GIRL! But we're not sure, so he told me to just come in again next week and have another look. Is my doctor not the most wonderful and amazing OB there is?

I could have stayed on that table all day, just watching with awe as the little one darted around and moved all her appendages for us to see. I can see why rich people (like Tom and Katie) buy their own sonogram machine, because you could seriously get addicted to watching the baby flit and flutter about. At least I could. I can't wait to go back.

Fabulous Fifteen Weeks and Super Sober Prego Woman

My girlfriend's bachelorette party was this past weekend at a lake a few hours away. It was a great relief to be near the water for a few days while it was 112 degrees at home. Yikes. The weekend was pretty much like high school--me the responsible non-drinker, winding about the festivities like a mother hen keeping track of all her wandering chicks.

As we left the small town bar at around 1:30 a.m. Friday night/Saturday morning, a number of concerned people were approaching the group of us, wondering how we could possibly make it home safely. Little did they know that my cocktails that evening had consisted of 4 glasses of water and two Shirley Temples, making me Super Sober Prego Woman! It was quite a sight to see me driving the whole lot of them home in someone's Ford F-350 Turbo Diesel king cab truck. Hilarious. I can definitely say that I am not one to be mother to multiple girls. Too much drama for this mama!

On Saturday morning, upon waking after less than five hours of sleep, I had a cup of tea and, as is my normal routine, took my prenatal and colitis meds as I prepared to eat breakfast. Well, the meal ended up taking longer than I predicted and I ended up throwing up for the first time this pregnancy! As I sat over the porcelain ring, I thought to myself, "Now this just isn't fair. I didn't even DRINK last night!" But a few minutes and some breakfast bites later, I felt much, much better.

All in all, I'm feeling much more like myself. Other than a few encounters with morning nausea in the past week, I've felt good. The other night I was hugging my hubby and he noticed something had come between us...the baby has already wriggled its way into the middle of our lives in the form of a belly bump. Too cute for words (the baby, not the expando belly).

I ordered some swatches online last week and they arrived in the mail. We're starting to plan out the baby's nursery, and I couldn't be more thrilled. This is exactly what I've been waiting for these past few years--the planning, the shopping, the preparations. It's all too wonderful.

where do you land?

So this was an interesting experience:

You are a Social Moderate (55% permissive) and an... Economic Liberal (15% permissive) You are best described as a: Socialist Link: The Politics Test on Ok Cupid Also: The OkCupid Dating Persona Test

post-vacation glow

Oahu was amazing...it was exactly the babymoon we needed. Restful, relaxing, and fun! It's amazing what a few days in paradise does for the soul. Lots of swimming, snorkeling, sunbathing, boogie boarding, eating, walking, resting...and all of it together. :) I even managed to avoid getting a sunburn this time, just a slight tan. Though I'm no match for my brown hubby, who's had three weeks off to work on his lovely color.

There were lots of prego ladies and small babies on the island. It made us yearn for our little one more than ever. We'd gaze down at the little bump and say "we can't wait for you to come!" Granted, we want him/her to stay in there until good and ready, but the feeling of anticipation grows with each day. We hope to get started on the nursery in the next month or so, which will make things very real and very fun. And less than six weeks until we find out the sex of our baby...though we've been feeling the girl vibe lately.

Last night I talked to my sister-in-law and found out that theyr'e expecting their 3rd in March--just 7 or 8 weeks behind me. So at future holiday gatherings we will have 3 new babies to add to the bunch, with my cousin's little one due about the same time as my new niece/nephew. The family is super excited!

Not much else going on. I know that I'll have to talk with my clients soon about being pregnant, which makes me sad. I hate to be one more person to leave these kids, who've been abandoned so many times. It breaks my heart, yet I know that they need to have "good" goodbyes as a model to balance the many goodbyes that have been out of their control. I'm hoping and praying that there will be smooth transitions for all of them, and my own feelings of abandoning them won't negatively affect the work we can do in the next 5 months.

woosh woosh woosh

Today we heard the baby's heartbeat at our 12-week prenatal appointment. So very cool! I'm glad to be leaving the first trimester and venturing into the rosy glow of pregnancy stage. The nausea has all but disappeared...I haven't felt sick for almost 2 weeks. The only symptom I seem to have right now is an expanding waistline. A little bit of baby, a little bit of mama, as my friend used to say. It didn't help that I could only stomach carbs for 4-5 weeks there. Oh well. I'm so happy the baby is healthy and we're well on our way into month 4. Due date: January 15.

I found out this morning that my cousin and his wife are pregnant with their first, and I'm so excited. My mom and aunt are already planning a joint shower later this year. :) I'm happy for my mom to have her sister to enjoy the journey with! Even though it's not my mom's first grandbaby, I know she couldn't possibly be any more excited about this one.

We leave for Hawaii in two days! I can hardly wait. Good friends hooked me up with some pregnancy shorts and skirts to help me breathe a little more freely while on vacation. Thanks Kelly and Kara! Most of all I'm looking forward to just relaxing with my hubby, to catching up with each other and loving each other and enjoying all tropical paradise has to offer: sunsets, snorkeling, chichis and pupus, beautiful dancing and music, boogie boarding, swimming, mid-day naps, and loads of sunshine. We figure we're setting a good precedent for our little one, considering their first trip to Hawaii is at only 3 months of life. :)

out of the closet

Well, I made it past 11 weeks without telling the whole world. I came out at work today, after weeks of holding it in! Everyone was so happy and excited, and it was nice to share the news.

Already they're planning my Latina Mama baby shower...I'm hoping they forgo the cerveza and sexy Latino stripper, as I've heard of both elements being included in previous parties.

It's a relief to be out in the open...now I don't have to hold in my belly every time I'm walking past the veteran mamas (who had their suspicions well before this morning). I don't have to make lame excuses for being sick, cranky, rude, or frequenting the bathroom. And I'll finally get some much-deserved pregnancy sympathy. Ahhh.

Our next ultrasound is a week from today. We should be able to hear the baby's heartbeat. :)

On another note, my mom and I just returned from a whirlwind weekend in Chicago, where I was speaking at a conference. We had a great time, but unfortunately I came down with a cold shortly before leaving. It made for rough nights of sleep in a foreign bed. But we saw a lot of the city including the L, the Magnificent Mile, Milennium Park, Lake Michigan, Wrigleyville, the Theater District (where we watched Wicked--awesome), Lincoln Park...and all in just four days! No wonder we're so exhausted.

Hubby and I also planned a last-minute trip to Hawaii in a few weeks...a babymoon! We really need the time away together, and where else to go but tropical paradise? We leave a week from Friday, and I can hardly wait!

9 weeks 1 day

I've managed to make it into week 9 of the 40 week sojourn. Things seem to be a little bit better. I still get nauseous, though not as frequently and not as severely. I can manage the queasiness best with ongoing snacking. That, and Ben's grandma provided some preggie pops which seem to help when driving and feeling yucky.

I tried on some maternity jeans this weekend. Crazy. Obviously, I basically have no belly. But there is something a little poochy there (not as in a small pink dog, Poochie, but as in sticking out somewhat). And the pants that fit 3 weeks ago...yeah, feeling a little snug by the end of the day. Maybe it's just the extra gas that tends to build up by 6pm. By 10pm I can look really pregnant.

I'm excited to share the news, but I'm waiting until week 12. My doctor says that it doesn't get any safer than this, having seen the peanut with normal growth and a strong heartbeat. But it's kind of still our little secret, our little surprise. I walk around each day smiling inside, knowing something everybody else doesn't (other than friends and family and faithful blog readers, who have known from the get-go).

I find myself marveling over every little detail I read in my pregnancy books. My little one has arms and legs and fingers and toes and tooth buds even! Everything the baby needs to function outside of its warm and cozy cocoon is already present. Arms and legs are moving, but I can't feel a thing. It's so incredibly marvelous. I think this is a tiny little taste of what God feels when he looks down at his creation--the sense of wonder, of awe, seeing each little detail unravel like a flower opening toward the sun.

This morning I was going for a swim, loving the warmth and buoyancy of the pool, thinking about my little one swimming and floating in the lovely pool inside my womb. How nice it must be to be surrounded by warm liquid, floating, sounds muffled, the world outside a quiet mystery.

Sigh. This is as wonderful as I expected it to be.

with any luck, peanut will resemble these beauties

It's plain to see that my brother and sister-in-law have given us some tough competition in the cute children category.

we have a go

Had our 8-week ultrasound yesterday. It was incredible. I had my fears going in, but once that picture came up on the screen, it was instant relief.

A baby. A hearbeat. Life.

It's been pretty real to me for the last 6 weeks, but for Ben to see that little peanut on the screen, it was like insta-wuv. He must have mentioned to me 3 or 4 times last night, "I just keep seeing our little baby with its beating heart!"

Yes, we are officially twitter-pated with the little one.

God is so good.