a baby story....

....and better than the ones on TLC. Because it's my baby story, natch.

All right. I said that one day I would post my baby story, and here I am. Four days away from going back to work (80 days after becoming a mommy). Posting my story.

It was a day like any other. The weather was nice, but we were due to get some rain. I had gone to bed late the night before because I was up chatting on Facebook with my sister and a friend about how I was feeling. I was 38 weeks 6 days pregnant. May as well have been 38 months. I was ready to rock.

6:15 am, September 14
I got up a little earlier than normal that day because it was the day to wash my hair, and I had a doctor's appointment set for before work. Yes, I do not wash my hair every day when I straighten it. Since having a baby I'm sporting my natural, curly look more often. Less time consuming. But I digress.

After my morning trip to the commode, I noticed a little something extra trickled out after I thought I had emptied my bladder. I figured maybe I just hadn't gotten everything out. When you're 9 months pregnant, the bladder is a little squished. It doesn't quite work like it used to. I disregarded it and stepped on the scale. 189 pounds. Ick.

Off to the shower, where I realized I should probably shave my legs. It had been a while and I was feeling up to the task of bending over to get them done. This wasn't a feeling that struck often. Seriously. Imagine bending over when your belly is the size of a watermelon while wielding a sharp object meant to remove hair from your epidermis. Pretty scary, huh?

I managed to get my shave on pretty successfully, but noticed that each time I stood up I had a little trickle again just like when I had been...um...taking a leak? Anyway. Now I began to wonder "Could it be? Is my water 'broken?' Seems a little less geyser-like than I expected..." I get out of the shower where a pretty steady trickle leads to to answer my prior question with a semi-confident "yes" and results in waking up Steven with, "Honey, my water broke?" (I did say it with a questioning inflection to my voice)

What do I do next, you ask? Panic? Begin flurrying around the house trying to frantically get together last minute items needed for the already-been-packed-for-a-few-weeks hospital bag? Nope. I got dressed and ate a bowl of Golden Grahams. I told Steven maybe he should go to work since I wasn't feeling any contractions yet, so we must have plenty of time until the real show started. After that, Steven and I prayed for the labor and delivery, since we knew we were going to have a baby in the next 24 hours. After a trip to the restroom where I saw (and thought at the time was it) the "bloody show," I told Steven maybe he should call out of work. And then I waxed my eyebrows and upper lip.

WHAT?!

Yes, you read that right. I went to the bathroom and waxed. Hey, it had been a while. I knew there were going to be post delivery pictures to be had and I wanted to at least know I had handled some long overdue grooming. And then I straightened my hair, which is an hour long process. I wanted to look good, which I realized about 6 cm into dilating during labor was COMPLETELY unnecessary. But I'm getting ahead of myself.

Funny side note: at this point, Steven and I had both called out of work but had not called anyone in the family yet to give them a heads up about what was happening. We figured we'd have plenty of time. I still wasn't feeling contractions and we didn't want people to sit around forever waiting in a hospital for us.

8:45 am
One ridiculous grooming ritual and a few more slightly wetter trickles of broken water later, I am on my way to my OB's office. That's right. I don't head to the hospital. I go to the OB. Again, first time mom. No contractions. Broken water. Feeling clueless but still pretty darn relaxed. I step out of the car at the doctor's and make it to the back end of my vehicle when...

....Niagra. Freakin. Falls. So this is the dramatic water breaking gush that gets dramatized on television. Considering my location, there are worse places where this could have happened. Like the produce section at the grocery store. Or Applebee's.

Steven is on his way to meet me at the doctor, and being the responsible person I am I still trek upstairs to the doctor's office, soaking wet pants and all.

Me: "Um, my water just broke in the parking lot, but I have an appointment at 8:50 with Dr. Richardson. I don't think I'm going to make it to that appointment."
Lady in waiting room about as pregnant as me: "Lucky."
Receptionist: "Seriously? Hang on a second. Dr. Richardson, right?"

One lady comes out and tells me to head to triage at the hospital, but I calmly tell her my husband is on his way and could I please have a place to sit down? Imagine me doing a really awkward dance trying to hide my soaked front and back pants from anyone who can see me. It's not effective.

I get taken back to some random exam room and put in a chair where I sit and wait for Steven to arrive. Everyone seems freaked out that I'm so calm. Am I supposed to be freaking out? I don't know. After a quick exchange with the doctor where she tells us not to run every red light but to get to the hospital (which she is going to call while we're en route to let them know we're en route), Steven and I head home to drop off a car and pick up the hospital bag. I probably should have been a little more flurry-ish about packing the last minute stuff.

On the drive home, the contractions finally start. Little, crampy contractions coming once every couple of minutes. I'm surprised they're happening so quickly, but I'm also singing and dancing along to LMFAO's "Party Rock Anthem" so I don't really notice. At this point, both the moms have been alerted that it's baby time.

9:15 am
Finally reunited at home, Steven and I put together the last minute things. At this point I have changed into a fresh pair of pants. I'm hunched over the counter in the kitchen every time a contraction hits, swaying back and forth just trying to stay calm. The swaying didn't really seem to help, but the laboring women in the childbirth videos we watched did it and it looked soothing so I figured what the hey? I'll give it a whirl. I keep asking Steven if he wants to pack a sandwich because I don't want him to get low blood sugar or be hungry while I'm in labor. He told me later he thought I was crazy.

9:30 am
Car seat is locked and loaded in the backseat, ready for a baby. Hospital bags are packed and loaded in the car. Steven and I climb in the car and pull away from home as a family of two for the last time. I have to admit, the drive to the hospital was eerily calm and not at all what we pictured. Steven told me every boy dreams of getting to race his laboring wife (who should be sceaming and not serene like me) to the hospital. Here we were, driving the speed limit and signalling for every lane change. We're laughing and chatting like it's just a leisurely morning drive. At one point Steven asked me if I wanted him to drift up to the hospital entrance just for effect.

We had to circle the lot for a while to find a spot and found one in the last row. Again, slow and steady driving. I told Steven to leave the bags in the car because we would have time to bring them in later. A volunteer took us by golf cart to the Women and Infant's Services entrance. He was nice and trying to make small talk the whole way in, but I was contracting and wincing over every bump. I'm sure he was very funny.

9:45 am
I happened to go into labor on the day the computer system went down at the hospital where I delivered. Oh, and there was only one person doing OB admitting that morning. Did I also mention another couple beat us to admitting by about 5 seconds? All that to say I got to sway and hold myself up against the wall in a hallway as contractions kept coming. And coming. And coming while the other couple got admitted. At this point it was starting to get difficult to talk through the contractions and I was trying really hard to be patient.

Thankfully my turn came quickly enough and the paperwork for me was already waiting since the doctor called ahead. I kept getting asked asinine questions I had already answered when I did the pre-admission a month prior, and I couldn't talk or think during contractions. There must be something about people at this hospital and friendly small talk. All I heard was the Charlie Brown teacher. Wah wah wah wah wah wah.

I got directly admitted, but had to wait in the OB waiting room to be taken back. Unfortunately for the custodial staff, Niagra Falls made another appearance while I was waiting.

Me (to L & D nurse, while water is running down my legs): I think I made a mess on that couch.

I waddled my way back to my labor and delivery room with wet pants (again). I swear everyone was staring at me like they'd never seen a woman with broken water squishing through a hallway before.

10:30 am
After changing into a hospital gown, going potty, and filling out what felt like a million forms and answering a lot of questions, I finally got checked to see how I was progressing. At this point I was 3-4 cm dilated, 100% effaced, and Natalie had dropped to the -1 station. Not a bad place to start.

I told my nurse, Lesley, that the long and short of my birth plan was no meds. I didn't have any scripted birth plan aside from this. No meds. The end. She told me she would help me get my goal.

Steven had been letting our parents know that we were at the hospital. It took a couple of contractions, but I managed to get a quick text sent to my dad.

"At the hospital. Water broke this morning."

That was all I could manage to type out. After these initial contacts, the phones sat at the wayside and it was game. on.

12:00 pm
Contractions were coming pretty rapidly and hurt pretty badly. Any time I started to feel one coming on, I started to look around the room for Steven. I needed him at my side holding my hand. Once or twice I think I rolled my eyes and said "Oh crap" when I felt a contraction start. I also started to wonder aloud where my mom was.

Side note: Just 24 hours before this, I was having a conversation with a friend at work about how I wasn't sure I would want my mom in the room while I was in labor.

At this point I was flipping from side to side after every few contractions to stay comfortable. Lesley was doing some counterpressure with my knees, and she and Steven were working hard to keep me from tensing up too much at the peaks of each contraction. It was working pretty well, but the contractions were really starting to hurt. I'd say a 6 or 7 on a scale of 10. Lesley checked progress, and I was dilated to 6 cm. I was starting to feel like I was going to throw up during contractions, so I got some Zofran (sp?) via IV to take care of the nausea.

I got out of bed and went into the shower with Steven. No, not to do husband and wife things. He was aiming the shower head where I needed the hot water most on my back during contractions. I labored in the shower for a good 45 minutes. My mom, mother-in-law, and dad arrived around 12:30.

Lesley: Is everyone staying in the room (whispers and raises her eyebrows) even the man?

My mom checked to see how I was doing and looked like she was going to crap her pants when I told her I was dilated to 6 already. She stayed and prayed with Steven and I as I told her briefly about the morning.

Me: Blah blah blah (contraction starts) stand by. (contraction ends) Ok, where was I?

1:00 pm
The trip to the shower helped me to relax some. I was starting to moan and say really funny things like "owie" during contractions at this point. It was taking a lot of concentration to stay focused in la-la-labor land. Cell phone text alerts kept going off as family was checking in, but the tones were distracting me. I actually asked everyone in the room if they could pretty please turn off the phones.

Lesley checked me again and I was dilated to 7 cm. Steven's mom had skipped lunch and we figured we had some time still, so she went to get food from the hospital cafeteria. Little did we know she decided to go pick up Steven's dad 30 minutes away.

1:30 pm
The contractions were coming hard and fast now. I started to cry because they hurt so bad. Lesley let me know that I was doing great, but just in case I changed my mind no pain meds after 8 cm. Then I felt a doozy of a contraction. Seriously a 9 of 10 for pain. I told Steven I didn't think I could do it because it was starting to hurt so bad. And then another really painful contraction hit. This time I felt like I needed to push (and did a little).

Me: I think I need to push.
Lesley: (checking) Yep, you're at 9 1/2 centimters. There's a tiny sliver of cervix left. I'm going to page the doctor. It's time to push.
Me: Really? I did it? Really?
My dad: And that's my cue to exit. Just come get me in the waiting room when Natalie's here!

This was when we found out Steven's mom had gone to pick up his dad.

1:35 pm
Dr. Guzman, a really great doctor from the practice I went to for prenatal care, was the doctor on call that day. I had gone to him for my 37 weeks appointment, and he had delivered my niece in February, so I at least knew who he was and was comfortable that he was the doctor delivering my baby. He walked in the room as I was coming out of another particulary painful contraction (lots of moaning and owie-ing).

Me: Owie owie owie. (contraction ends). Heeeeey Dr. Guzman.

He got suited up and ready to go. The bed got taken apart, Lesley coached us on how the pushing phase was going to go (lots of breath holding, ab crunching, and legs being pulled back), and out came the foot rests.

1:50 pm
It starts. The pushing. I felt a contraction begin, took a deep breath, and pushed. Longest. 10. seconds. ever. And then I had to jump right back into another push? Seriously? I'd get 3 or 4 good pushes in with each contraction, but I thought I was going to pass out from exhaustion. At least the pushing didn't hurt, it was just physically difficult.

In between each contraction, my tummy started to growl. The Golden Grahams weren't holding out as well as I had hoped. I was hungry.

1:59 pm
Foot paddles were replaced with fancy stirrups that held my legs up better and higher while I was pushing. I felt much more comfortable.

The next contraction Natalie crowned. And then went back. And her heart rate dropped a little. I had to push in between contractions to keep her cruising down the birth canal.

Dr. Guzman: Sandi, do you see that trash can over my shoulder? On this next push, I want you to shoot this baby out into the trash can.
Me: (weakly) Okay.

2:04 pm
Lesley gave me oxygen. I girded my loins (literally). I pushed with all my might and out came Natalie's head. One more push and out came her body. Then she was on my chest, crying and looking into my eyes. Reaching out and touching my face. All I could manage to eke out was "Hi."

Natalie Faith made her debut weighing in at 6 lbs. 15.4 oz and 20 in. long. Her APGAR scores were 9/9. I had a perfectly healthy baby girl, and I did it all without meds.

welcome to the motherhood....

....not to be confused with being a mutha *@$%#! in da hood. There is a difference.

Here I sit as my sweet baby sleeps almost 6 weeks after the main event. Some day I will get around to posting my birth story. I still can't believe I grew and birthed a little human. But I digress.

While I'm still figuring this motherhood thing out, I have made a few observations in my semi-conscious, really-wishing-I-could-wind-down-and-nap-more-because-my-baby-only-sleeps-3-hours-at-a-time-overnight-when-I'm-lucky state. Life with newborns. #mommyproblems

Anyway. My thoughts. Did the thought train derail again? Blast.

Side note: some of these thoughts are ideas I got from a Babycenter.com list of 42 things that change when you have a baby. I decided to hone in on the ones most relevant to my situation.

I finally respect my body. Because of my pregnancy weight gain, I have a lot of extra honky tonk in my badonky donk. Not to mention that my thighs don't whisper to each other when I walk. They scream. I have some pretty gnarly mommy scars (some call them stretch marks, but I think mommy scars sounds more hardcore). All of this I wear as badges of honor. Why? I had a baby. Without medication. No epidural. No spinal. Nothing except a little anti-nausea medication because I seriously felt like I was going to throw up during active labor. It was by no stretch easy. It's not called a picnic; it's called labor for a reason. I felt like I was going to give in for the love of anesthesia many times. And then I was pushing a baby past my pelvic bone and out my lady bits (cue funeral dirge...or maybe "Ave Maria"...what once was will never be the same again, dear va-jay). Oddly the pushing part didn't hurt. Before I knew it, there was a beautiful baby on my chest looking me in the eyes and reaching out to touch my face. Women say it all the time, but seriously my body took over and told me what to do. I just knew when it was time to push. I knew we needed to go to the hospital (okay...my water had broken, but still I had a feeling we shouldn't labor at home and needed to be in the hospital). I am still in awe that I was able to have an unmedicated natural childbirth, and now that my sweet Natalie girl is here my body still amazes me in a number of ways. How quickly it rebounded after childbirth. How quickly my baby bulge became an almost imperceptible little lump of pudge. How it provides just the right amount of nutrition and food for my baby via breastfeeding. Yeah, I get discouraged seeing how I used to look compared to now. I have some work to do to get back to pre-pregnancy awesomeness. But for now I have "just had a baby" awesomeness to rock. And I love it!

Everything makes me cry. It seemed like I cried if I waited too long to take a pee break the first couple of weeks after Natalie was born. While I have gotten my emotions under control since the hormone roller coaster has become more of a lazy river, there are still things that get me weepy. Like the news. I watch all these stories from a mom's perspective now. The world is kind of depressing. I also cry sometimes when I look at Natalie and I'm overwhelmed by how amazing of a miracle she is. My mom says all this crying is payback for making fun of her being a leaky faucet. Perhaps.

The definition of a good night's sleep has forever changed. Related: I used to think I knew what the word "exhausted" meant. Before moving into the motherhood, a good night's sleep was at least 7 hours. I couldn't function with less than that. Thankfully, the midnight runs to the potty during my third trimester sort of prepped me for what was to come. In the motherhood, a good night's sleep has become whenever Natalie sleeps for at least 3 hours at a time. If I get 4 hours of uninterrupted sleep in a row, I feel like a new woman in the morning. After making it through the first three weeks, I've somewhat adjusted. There are times where I feel like I'm barely going to make it through the day. Thank goodness for naptime.

I have to harness my inner detective. In case you hadn't heard, babies don't talk. They cry. All of their cries mean something, but you have to play detective to figure out what the heck they need and want. After going through the usual suspects (hunger, dirty diaper), it's tough to figure out what's wrong when she keeps on crying. Enter inner detective. I'm no Nancy Drew and the hubs certainly isn't a Hardy Boy, so we have a lot of trial and error going on to figure out how to soothe our sweet girl. After nearly 6 weeks, we still feel clueless most of the time but we still love her dearly.

What I once thought would be sacrifices just aren't. I thought I would resent having to give up being able to go and do whenever I want. I don't because there's nowhere I'd rather be than with my daughter. When baby was gassy and fussy no matter what I did and I realized I would need to give up dairy, I thought it would be impossible. It's not because I see how much happier and calmer my daughter is without it in my diet. I realize I would move heaven and earth to make sure she's taken care of, even if it means I go without certain things I used to have or do.

It's going to take some time getting adjusted to my new surroundings in this 'hood, but in a strange way it feels like I've always lived here. Well, I know there's nowhere else I'd rather be anyway.

quiet time...

...is something that I have come to value greatly. And it isn't too hard to get.

I woke up really early this morning. I guess it isn't all that surprising since I fell asleep really early last night, but I digress. Early mornings are my favorite because I get time alone in the quiet. Well, for now anyway. My husband is sleeping, and the only noises I hear are some household appliances that are running and my tapping on the keyboard. Glorious.

Quiet time is wonderful. There is so much noise and hub-bub going on that sometimes getting a little peace and quiet is a gift. No TV. No music. No conversation. Just me, my thoughts, and a the ability to enjoy some time with God.

The noise of the world definitely drowns out the voice of God. But here, in my quiet time, I can hear Him. I can feel His divine hand in my life, especially when I feel my little miracle of a daughter rolling and moving around in my belly. It will be so strange when I don't have that connection with her anymore.

Quiet time allows me to read the Scriptures and reflect on what God wants me to learn. Today I read Matthew 16 as part of a 100-day reading challenge our church gave to the congregation. In Matthew 16, the message I took away from it was that sometimes there are trials and discomforts that we must face in our walks with God that the world may not want us to endure. Our call is to persevere and not allow the comforts of the world deter us from facing those trials and becoming stronger on the other side as a result. Peter tries to tell Jesus that he shouldn't have to face the end-of-life trials he foretells to the disciples, and Jesus' response? "Get behind me Satan." To Peter. The man He calls, in verses just prior to that, the Rock of his church. The cornerstone on which the future Christian movement would be built (check out Acts 2 for one of Peter's finer moments in living out this calling...the Day of Pentecost).

It is a blessing to have some time to collect yourself and do something meaningful in the quiet. What will you do to take advantage? How can you be still and find some solace in the silence today?

miscellany and potpurri...

...yeah, kind of like the Jeopardy category. What's been on Sandi's mind lately for $500, Alex?

In short, mostly the impending birth of my daughter. But there have been a lot of other things going through my mind, too. A sampling of my mental potpurri can be found below.

Apologies. It's interesting. There was a day when I was in an argument with the hubs about apologizing. I know, strange what one argues with her significant other about when under the influence of fetus. He had done something that hurt my feelings, and I thought he should apologize. He didn't want to apologize because he thought he hadn't done anything wrong and didn't want it to be an empty apology. I wish I could say this ended happily (it didn't...well not until much later). But it got me thinking about how if it were a work situation where a customer/parent/whoever was complaining to either one of us about something that had offended them, we would apologize for the issue and set about correcting it for that person (even if we didn't think they were right about it). I don't understand why sometimes it is so much easier for us to treat strangers better than those we claim we care the most about. Side note: While this argument wasn't necessarily a "win" for me, at the end of the day I still very much adore and respect my husband for being willing to stick to his guns. I wouldn't want him to lie to me and say he's sorry when he isn't either.

Weight. I had hoped to resolve my hate/loathe relationship with the bathroom scale by the time my pregnancy came to an end, but alas the scale has won this battle. Sandi - 0. Scale -1. The strange thing in all of this is that gaining so much weight helped me to gain a little perspective too (pun intended). As the weight packed on, my workouts at the gym became markedly more difficult. I felt more pain in my joints and less and less able to keep up with what I had been able to do fifty pounds lighter (no, that's not a typo). I think in the long run this is going to help me to be a more effective coach in my group fitness classes. It is going to help me empathize with my larger participants and help me to offer them options that will prevent injury and/or excessive soreness post-workout.

Childbirth. I guess I never realized how granola and earthy I really am until I started to really think about childbirth. Here's the deal. I always assumed I'd be the "induce my labor and get me an epidural so I can be a mommy" mom. The more I learned about both, the less and less I want either. No woman has been pregnant forever, even if it feels like I have been at times. My baby and my body know what to do. Labor will start when my baby is good and ready to make her appearance in this world. I was built to deliver this baby without medication, even though they don't call it labor for nothing. So after a lot of reading and exploring, I've decided that I want to have as natural of a childbirth as I can assuming there is no medical reason that comes up to prevent it. My biggest concern is and continues to be that I will need a C-section. Why, you ask? At 29 weeks we found out our baby was in a breech presentation, but as of last week's appointment she had turned head down. While I'm hopeful/confident she'll stay this way, I can help but feel a nagging fear that I'm going to have to be cut open. No. thank. you. I'd rather sacrifice my lady bits to the birthing process than have a 4-6 inch scar and major abdominal surgery to deliver my baby.

Parenthood. I'll be moving to a new 'hood in about a month from now. The parenthood. The daunting task of actually raising and being responsible for a human life is a little overwhelming to me. I know I'll figure it out and that there are plenty of people who have survived it before me (and continue to survive it). I guess I'll just have to take it one day at a time. I still can't believe I'm going to be someone's mother.

Leadership. There have been a few opportunities lately for me to learn more about the abstract concept of leadership. What it is. What it isn't. What it looks like when it's effective. How to deal with difficult personalities. How to develop superior work teams. And you know what I've discovered? What I don't know and can't do far outweighs what I do know and can do. I heard that at the Global Leadership Summit in early August, and it really impacted me. I also discovered that I'm kind of a huge fan of learning, especially about leadership.

Anyway, there's the fragrant mental potpurri that's been brewing for the past 10 weeks. I will do my best to keep posting as the pregnancy draws closer to its end and the day I will offically be someone's mother gets here.

(not so) early to bed...

...early to rise. I'm still waiting on the healthy, wealthy, and wise part. Ok, maybe just the last two.

Lately I have been falling asleep at later than normal (for me) times. We're talking after 10 pm. I know, I know...I'm one helluva party animal. It's how the suburban, married, and pregnant folk roll. I'm usually pretty dead to the world by 10 pm, if not earlier, so this has been strange.

But stranger still is the fact that I have been waking up early (5 am or so) without my alarm clock and feeling wide awake. You might be thinking, "Well, yeah, everyone is waking up earlier on their own. It's summer time. The sun is rising earlier." That would be a valid point if I were sleeping a room without blackout curtains. I'm sleeping in a cave. I can sort of tell it's light out by the little bit of sun that pokes through the bottom edges of the curtains. Sort of.

Along with this strangeness is the fact that I've been sleeping better than normal. Background: I am a light sleeper. And it usually takes me a looong time to fall asleep. Well, longer than my husband anyway. His deep breathing when he falls asleep was enough to keep me from falling asleep even longer, thus frustrating me more (not frustrated with him, just the inability to fall asleep). So I've been sleeping with ear plugs for about 6 years now. Seriously. I don't know what I'd do without my foam ear plugs. Even still, there are noises that aren't completely blocked out that will wake me up. Not lately, though. I've been sleeping more heavily, even with my 26 weeks pregnant belly that likes to impede my rolling over. And did I mention my ninja baby? Hi-ya!

Don't get me wrong. I'm not complaining, just fascinated. I never considered myself a morning person...or a night person. I always considered myself more a "middle of the day" person. Slow to really get going and then firing on all pistons during the day and running out of juice sometime around 8 pm or so, sometimes earlier. In recent weeks, I've found myself uber productive in the mornings at home, getting the most done first thing at work, slogging through a wall of no energy or motivation midafternoon, and then re-energizing after having dinner with the hubs and unwinding from the work day. I like the change. I feel like I'm getting more done than I ever did before.

I guess circadian rhythms can change just like one's tastebuds do over time.

pregnancy reflections...

...and more than the kind I see in the mirror. natch.

For the past few weeks I've been thinking about all stuff pregnancy-related. I had hit the halfway point a few weeks ago (week 23 coming up on Thursday!), so it seemed like a pretty natural reflection point. Milestones have a strange way of doing that to a person.

Here are some of the things I've come to realize so far:

The bathroom scale and I are no longer friends. We reached an impasse early in this pregnancy relationship. While the "normal" woman will gain up to 5 lbs. in the first trimester (conception to 14 weeks), I gained 5 lbs. by week 7 and crept up to 12 lbs. total by the end of the first trimester. I wanted to blame raging hormones since I'm the type of girl whose weight fluctuates a good 5-10 lbs with her monthly cycle (TMI), but when my doctor started to use phrases like "increased risk for pre-eclampsia" when it came to the weight gain, I got scared. So now I'm re-evaluating my eating and activity habits. Yeah, I can make little tweaks. And maybe I'll be able to reconcile my relationship with the bathroom scale before this 40 week journey is up.

A sense of humor will help you survive. Case in point: the rules of normal social etiquette go out with window with a pregnant woman. Would you go up to an overweight person and tell him/her that s/he is "huge" and could stand to lose a few pounds? Or a person who is severely underweight and suggest s/he eat a hamburger to gain a few pounds? No? Funny, those rules don't seem to apply to a pregnant woman. I get comments that run the gamut, but I try to just laugh most of them off. When a person comments on how big I'm getting, I tend to laugh and grab my belly then reply with something like "Yeah, funny how that happens when you're growing a human."

Thirty seconds can feel like an eternity. Before my daughter became a high-powered martial artist/kicking machine, I worried all the time that something was wrong. My only solace was when we'd go to the doctor (only once every 4 weeks, mind you!) and get to hear her heartbeat with the Doppler. Finding a heartbeat on a baby the size of a small piece of fruit takes a few seconds, but those thirty seconds seemed like an eternity. I never realized how hard I was holding my breath waiting to hear the woosh woosh woosh of the heartbeat until I'd hear it and exhale. Hard. Luckily, God knows that I am an anxious person by nature so Natalie (yep...that's her name!) made her presence known early. At 16 weeks on the nose. Most first time moms don't feel the first kicks until the halfway point. She let Steven know she's in there when he felt her kick for the first time last night , again ahead of schedule.

Your body does some really weird stuff when you're growing a human. I love that my super power is growing humans. It's a pretty sweet gig when you think about it. The miracle of life is happening inside my body! But there are a lot of strange things that happen when you're pregnant because the hormone changes affect EVERYTHING, not just your lady bits. Like I feel like I have a perpetually stuffy nose, my gums tend to be super sensitive, and I think I have the attention span of a fruit fly. It's not all bad or weird, though. Some of the little perks are that your body stops producing smelly sweat, your hair doesn't fall out as quickly so it stays thick, and hello! cleavage! It's also strange how I can distinguish between Natalie's kicks and her hiccups. Sixth sense?

Creating human life makes a person re-evaluate her priorities. I have spent a lot of time thinking about how I spend my time. Redundant, I know. Seriously, though, the prospect of being someone's mother and bringing a little person into the world has forced me to take stock of what takes up my time. I want to make sure that my family is a high priority, so I've started practicing this now by making my time with Steven count. I've tried to make it so late nights at work are the exception and not the rule, and for the most part I'm doing well with it. I'm trying to use my time in the mornings and on weekends more wisely so that the task lists I have get taken care of efficiently and I have nothing distracting me when I get home from work at night.

I really do like the color pink. Most of the girls in my family (all 5 of us sisters and my mom) are not what you would call girly-girls. Okay, none of us are. All of us were rough and tumble tomboys who liked to play sports more than we liked to play house/dress-up/dolls. I didn't learn how to apply makeup until...okay I'm still figuring it out. I never learned how to French braid. I'm more comfortable with a bandsaw than a sewing machine. I like to cook and bake, but it's taken time to figure out how to do more than make macaroni and cheese or cake from a box mix. But I really do like how much pink is popping up in my house. And I can't wait to buy my baby girl dresses and ribbons and bows.

Pregnancy is pretty uneventful for the most part. I feel like once I hit the second trimester and stopped feeling like a zombie, I've been on cruise control. Even the first trimester wasn't too shabby. I never threw up or felt nauseous (I know you hate me). Natalie is growing. I go to the doctor every month like I'm supposed to. For the most part, though, it's a waiting game. I feel pretty normal (sciatic nerve issues and disappearing waistline aside), and the doctor's appointments consist of peeing in a cup, getting my blood pressure checked, hearing the heartbeat, the doctor checking for where the top of my uterus is sitting, and then answering any questions I have (I usually have zero). I'm in and out in less than half an hour. I don't know what I was expecting, but I don't know that I was expecting it to be this....normal.

I know every woman experiences different things and has stories to tell (trust me...I hear everything good, bad and in between!), but I wanted to share mine so far. What are your pregnancy reflections...even from dad's perspective?

what are you waiting for, huh?

...I think this blog title is some kind of taunt from a victim to a psycho in a horror film. I could be wrong.

Nonetheless, what was I waiting for? Per my usual M.O., I overloaded my life with craziness and haven't had time to do anything but a fast-food drive-thru blog. Pathetic, really. And perhaps a sign that I need to slow down, especially since I'm at the halfway point of my pregnancy. Nah...that's crazy talk.

But I suppose I should at least catch up with where I left off at the last blog.

Four weeks ago I was relaxing in San Jose, CA with Kelsey. We had a fantastic weekend! I saw Black Swan for the first time (again, what was I waiting for, huh?), got a whirlwind walking tour of SJSU and San Francisco, spent an afternoon in Santa Cruz enjoying food on the pier and watching Kelsey get pooped on by seagulls, laughed at an Anjelah Johnson show at The Improv, went toe-to-toe with a surly car rental agent to get some money back (and won), and then spent a day relaxing before flying home to be back with hubby. Amazing.

Since then, I have had three of the most whirlwind weeks at work and at home. Golf tournament. Meetings. Three-day management training. Meetings. Awards breakfast attended by 600 people. Meetings. Projects. Meetings. Planning for Summer Day Camp (yikes...only 18 days of school left!). Meetings. Bittersweet going away party for one of my favorite Branch Executives. Meetings. Surprise party for my step dad. Meetings. Easter. And did I mention meetings?

This week, Steven and I went for our anatomy ultrasound and got to see our baby as an actual baby (compared to the tadpole alien looking thing it was at 7 weeks). SHE is healthy! She! I'm going to have a daughter. More crazy talk. I can't believe I'm going to be someone's mother.

In the spirit of staying consistent with buseyness, on the slate for this weekend is a build with Habitat for Humanity, spending time with one of Steven's friends at the movies, and then enjoying the beginning of May.

MAY?!?! How did that happen?

Time to slow down and smell the roses. And maybe start the baby registry.

fast food drive thru blog...

...a quickie to appease the appetite of my few readers. I know you're hungry for content.

• went on vacation for 4 days to visit my best friend Kelsey. more detailed awesomeness to follow.


• work is keeping me busy.


• marriage is keeping me happy and (somewhat) sane


• baby and I are healthy


• I am loving life

Okay, that's all for now since I have to run off to work. But I PROMISE to come back soon and fill in more details. Like I said, awesomeness to follow. At least I think so anyway.

breaking the silence...

...with a fat bottle of sparking cider. It's time to celebrate!

Why are we celebrating? For one, tomorrow is my birthday. And why sparkling cider instead of a bottle of champagne or a cheap bottle of liquor in a little brown bag (gotta stay classy)? Because I'm 13 weeks pregnant.

Wait! Rewind! Did I just say it's my birthday tomorrow? Yes I did. And I'll be a whole lotta 27 years old.

Oh. You were more surprised by the announcement that I'm pregnant? I suppose I should have expected that. But before I address this miraculous and exciting news, I want to spend a little time in retrospective mode.

So, each year I kind of view my birthday as my New Year's Day. Most people do that cliche thing where the new year is January 1, and while I appreciate that day's opportunity for reflection and resolution, I much prefer to use my birthday. Color me rogue.

Twenty-six was a roller coaster ride of a year, and it was an amazing year of growth and personal resolve. I wove the story of my first pregnancy and resulting miscarriage here, and let's just say that the experience left me feeling broken but also provided for the most significant period of personal growth in my life to date. It opened my eyes to just how ridiculously selfish I can be. Seriously people, I was yelling at pregnant women out of jealousy and unmitigated rage over my loss. There were moments where I made friends angry, words that were spat venomously out of my mouth led to tears in others' eyes, and gave me such a slap-in-the-face reality check about the depravity of my situation that I couldn't help but change. Grow up. Get over myself.

The past year also instilled in me a sense of resolve. Once I stopped blaming God for my loss and could read my Bible without wanting to hurl it across the room, I spent time meditating on Scripture. I found myself hearing the still, small voice of the Lord prompting me to get back in relationship with Him because He never left me, even when I pushed him far away. I learned that He never promised that we wouldn't experience pain and loss, but He promised that through it all he'd be at our sides. "Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me." Psalm 23:4.

This realization led me to be able to climb up out of the muck and trust that all would turn out okay. I started to recall other verses that provide me peace when I feel like the world is crumbling around me. "The LORD will fight for you, you need only to be still." Exodus 14:14; "Come to me all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest...for my yoke is easy and my burden is light." Matthew 11:28, 30. I realize that not all my friends out there believe in God and that's okay. I just hope that like me you have something to hold onto and put your faith in when the world around you feels like it's falling apart.

My 27-years-old New Year resolution? To become a better version of me. To continue to grow. To continue to place my faith and hope in something bigger than myself that I know I can trust (read: God). And to prepare myself to be a good mommy.

Okay, okay...back to the happy news about being pregnant. After the day of days, I felt closure and relief. I was able to relax and move on. But there was a part of me that still hurt about not being a mom when I could have been.

Fast forward to MLK Day weekend, and the monthly visitor from Hades still hadn't made her grand appearance two days after she was due. I decided to take a test just to see. I had a feeling "this could be it!" but I tried not to get too excited.

What do you know? The stick turned blue!

I felt like I was holding my breath for the first few weeks while we waited for our first ultrasound, but on February 2 Steven and I got to see our little alien baby at 7 weeks (it doesn't look remotely human this early on) and hear its tiny little heart beat. I pretty much melted into a mess of happiness, but managed not to lose it crying in the ultrasound room.

More breath holding as we rode out the next 5 weeks and went back for an appointment last week. 12 weeks. A pretty monumental week. Although not officially the end of the first trimester, a pretty significant day nonetheless. The MA found the baby's heartbeat with the Doppler, and again it was music. I could listen to that little lub-dub all day long.

Anyway, the big due date is September 22. I am really looking forward to the life changes this new year of mine has to bring. And I really hope I manage to keep up this growth kick I've been on (not just physically...a thank you!).