From 36 week Pre Natal appointment to Birth Story

Wednesday September 17th

A typical morning. Waking up, cup of coffee, breakfast, off to work. I wore a simple yet comfortable skirt and sleeveless shirt with a cardigan in my bag. Leaving for work from our home that we have listed to sell (not the new one) I even wore flip flops thanks to the fact my feet were perma swollen and although not necessarily fashion appropriate, my comfort and the fact nothing else fit basically made it so. Truth be told, by this point I don't really care what my feet look like, I can barely see them.

After work, I decided to take myself to lunch and mid bite realize I had missed a phone call and had a voice mail. One voice mail happened to be from my Dr, Dr.Jodi Wallis instructing me to meet her at Crouse Hospital so she could monitor my blood pressure for a couple hours instead of our regular scheduled appointment in her office. Leaving me her cell number, she asked me to call her back so I did. She informs me that pending my results I could very well be spending the night in the hospital but that she was concerned about my blood pressure readings.. had I experienced headaches? (No). Blurry vision or spots? (No).... I informed her I felt great besides the expected discomfort.

Becoming a bit nervous, I called Joe to meet me at my lunch spot so we could walk on over to the hospital. Luck would have it that my lunch spot was a mere alley way walk to the hospital. As we walked over on a lovely September afternoon, we joked how this could be it... what would we do... are we ready?.... and naturally as I would, totally blew the whole thing off, because why wouldn't I? My BP has been a little elevated yes but I had zero symptoms. What's the worse that can happen?

Joe and I enter the hospital and check into Labor and Delivery. Seated, we are asked to wait being that apparently we picked a very popular time to show up to L&D and had to wait for a triage room. What felt like 5 years and a week later, we finally make it into a room. Nursing staff, residents and the like are in and out. I change from my work outfit into the ever so chic hospital gown, provide a urine sample, have an I.V. put in (first red flag in my head and the first I.V. I've ever had in my entire life) and have blood taken on the other (I renamed my nurse Barbara to Nurse Vampire ). Within 30 minutes my doctor not only informs me that my BP hit 190/120 which is stroke and seizure range but I'm being admitted AND we are going to induce labor. With every word spoken I could visualize a window opening and my lovely birth plan typed on lavender paper being swept away in a breeze right out the into the free air. The best part? After they tell me this and I start crying, they take my blood pressure again because what's more calming than saying words like "induce" "stroke" "Seizure" "I need more blood from you" WHILE I'm thinking to myself "F WORD ... I need to call agencies and find subs and clear my schedule and we haven't moved into the new house and I have nothing packed for the hospital and WTH is going on and how are they going to induce me and oh my god I don't want to have a C Section but I swear I just heard someone mention it" SURE! Take my blood pressure. Thank God I was already laying down when hearing this.

The doctors and entourage of medical personnel leave the triage room and inform me that once a room opens up we will be moved..... As in moved into the room I will eventually be giving birth in. Joe and I looked at each other, chins on the triage room floor. Within moments, Joe is taking down a list of things I will be needing for the stay. Did I pack a bag like I thought I should have the weekend prior? NO! Because we had PLENTY OF TIME, so I thought. Once Joe left the room, I cried. Cried because I was scared. Cried because I had no idea what was about to happen, had zero control over anything and cried because of the enormity of the situation and a feeling of being utterly overwhelmed with worry, information and the reality of "you are becoming a parent like right now".

Once in a room, I'm informed that we will be inserting a pill (can't remember the life of me what it is .. not the cervadil, the other one) up my vagina every few hours to help soften the cervix because Shocker! I'm not dilated. The funny thing about birth, your cervix needs to open to 10 cm (think of a bagel) before you can push your baby out of there. In addition, they attached me to a magnesium drip for my blood pressure and since the side effect of the magnesium is drowsiness and being light headed, I was not allowed to walk around or more importantly walk to the bathroom. I had my own little personal can with legs set up near my bed. Let me tell you, nothing is more special than being woken up in the middle of the night to have a doctor insert a pill up you with not so gentle hands. The best part is, is that they take your blood pressure AFTER doing this then look at you like "Hm, why is your pressure still elevated?" How about you give me the glove, pill and BP cuff and let's see how your pressure is after?"

Thursday September 18th

After the pill insert routine all evening every 4th hour as promised, it was decided that the next step in induction would be to have a balloon inserted in my cervix since I was starting to dilate. I joked that as long as it wasn't a balloon animal I was for it. How I managed to maintain a sense of humor through this is either proof positive of an underlying mental illness or an extreme sense of humor that acts as a shield/barrier to all things scary and uncomfortable.  It was inserted from the end of a large stick which was scarier than it really had to be. Once placed, the balloon was then filled with water which then acted as a way to stretch out the cervix. Said balloon was to remain there for a period of 12 hours. I have no recollection as to what time this happened. I do remember that it didn't feel awesome.

I've made mention before of us buying a house in the suburbs on the same street as Joes family. Well, at this point we weren't moved in yet. Rooms were being painted and Emmas room was the first ready to go but our stuff remained at our 'old house'. All of the baby accoutrements, supplies and everything she owns were already at the 'new house'. Besides THAT! (yes! there's more!) Joe was recruited by an insurance agency and started putting in longer hours just starting there. Being on medical lock down myself, I was deemed useless as far as the move goes. I mean, I DID have my own duties to worry about. Joe's family and Joe went into high gear and while I did what I had to at the hospital (have a baby). Everyone just infiltrated the homes removing one room at a time and putting it into the other home so by the time we were released from the hospital, we would be starting our new life together at our new home with most of our stuff around us.  It was absolute mayhem however, knowing how hard everyone was working made my tasks easier to deal with because all I had to worry about was delivering Emma, recovering and getting us home safely and together. Side note, if you ever need your kitchen re organized, you need to contact Joe's cousin Tina. I expect a "finders fee".

Friday September 19th

If it wasn't for Joe's trips and stays in the hospital, my friends and family in touch via text, FB messages, emails etc I would have been insanely crazy. My nurse of the day was a lovely woman named Cathy. When I woke up eaerly this morning, the balloon that was previously inserted was basically falling out (Sorry but this IS a birth story) and it was effective considering I was 4 cm dilated that morning. For the record, how they tell how dilated you are is another "pleasant" measurement done via hands. The good side is that those exams actually help you practice your breathing technique for the "big show" so it's all good.

At around 12pm (while Joe went looking for food of course) I was chatting with the nurse, Cathy when all of a sudden I felt an inner "pop" followed by a warm gush. My eyes widened and pointing down there, said "Uh, I know I didn't just pee myself" and we celebrated the fact that my water broke on it's own. All I kept thinking was "This is happening". I've read enough to know that once your water breaks it's really just a matter of time before things get really moving.

Joe had to run more errands between the old/new house and we were sure that things weren't going to progress immediately so I excused him to tend to that. He also was going to stop at Sweet On Chocolate on his way back to the hospital to pick up a tray of truffles and chocolates for the nursing staff because he's a considerate but brilliant man. To see the nursing staff come into our room barely able to talk with a mouth full of chocolate but looking so happy was pretty nice. I couldn't have been better taken care of and Cathy was beyond sweet and was with me the entire day. I doubt I will ever forget her and how comfortable she made me feel and how wonderful she was to me and to Joe.

My sister came in for a visit and the 3 of us hung around for some time when the contractions started coming in. In addition my blood pressure was starting to go up again so it was decided that in hopes to keep my blood pressure lower, alleviating some of the pain would be recommended. Now, originally, I wanted a natural birth but I also wasn't comfortable with the idea of allowing my BP to increase again to either stroke/seizure levels. That would be insanely dangerous to me and to Emma so I proceeded with the epidural.

My arms around the neck of my awesome nurse Cathy and in goes that massive needle to my back for the epidural. I'm not sure at this point what was more unpleasant... the epidural process or having pills inserted in my vagina not so gently for 12 plus hours. Either way with that being done, I was sent back to the room to lay in wait, literally until the show got on the road.

As time passed, the contractions kept coming. My legs were heavy and although not NUMB like I was misled to believe, there was enough relief for me to just be in the moment and not be so overwhelmed in pain. The time between each contraction was usually followed by a moment of relief before having to hurl whatever I had left in my stomach out. After hours of the nurse who took over for Cathy, Deena (? check with Joe) came in to check to see if I was dilated, I was over it and just felt that it was time to push. I demanded (not so sure how nice I was at this point) the doctor to come in and check and was elated to hear that I was 10 cm dilated. I was ready mentally, physically and honestly just over the process.

Immediately it was like a scene change and the room filled with women in scrubs. There was barely a moment to think "Ok, I am about to have a child come out of me" before Deena looked me in the eyes and asked if I was ready to push and so I did. For about 2 hours. The coaching, the sweat, the pushing, the feeling like I wasn't going to be able to push her out. It was beyond describable. Joe, who didn't want to be anywhere south of my head was ordered to grab a leg and therefore gave him front row seating to the entire show. People have told me that it feels like you have to poop when you are ready to push your child out. I don't know about all that. Maybe I'm too regular? It felt like I had something in my uterus that I was ready to not have there anymore.

At one point nearing the end, I was covered in sweat and felt like I couldn't go another second. I was crying through a push, exhausted and trying to keep my heavy numb legs up when I told Joe "I can't do this"... Joe moved his head closer to me and says "You know that story about the little engine that could?" To which I replied screaming "I'M NOT A  FUCKING TRAIN!!!" Which actually helped because I was able to use that moment and push even harder.

I will never forget the visual moment of when Emma finally came out at 11:39pm, lifted into the air like a trophy, purple in color, covered in blood with the biggest cone head I've ever seen in my life. It was beautiful. Joe looked shell shocked. They placed Emma on my stomach and I proceeded to pass along the placenta (gross feeling as that was). When they removed Emma to clean her, the doctors went back to attending to me down there but used a speculum and informed me they needed to stop the bleeding but couldn't find where it was coming from. I pleaded and cried for them to stop because the pain was immeasurable. The decision was made to take me to the operating room. The bleeding was coming from either my uterus or cervix and had to be stopped.

Off we went leaving Joe with his new daughter. In the operating room, even more people came in than the delivery room scrubbing up. I was hoisted on another table, my legs propped up on 2 holders and shortly after all I remember is hearing the voice of a woman with a Russian accent saying "I'm going to give you something to make you sleep".... and when I woke up, I was being wheeled in the recovery room. Emma had torn my cervix in 2 places and I had a natural tear of my perineum that was stitched as well.

Emma Louise Courcy, arrived officially on 9/19/14 at 11:39pm weighing 5lbs 15oz.

Joe and Emma met me in recovery and immediately she was put to breast to start feeding. I remember looking down at her, feeling a bit off from the meds, my body feeling like it went to war and thinking "Holy shit, I did it." Of course Joe gets his own credit but I did the hard work. I went through pregnancy. I went through labor. I pushed her out. I did this. WE made her. We have a child. Holy shit we have a daughter and then the tears came-a-rushing. Overwhelmed with happiness and a deeper love than I ever thought possible, not just for Emma but for Joe. For everything we have been through, for all his love and support during the pregnancy, for being here now (the Little Engine comment became funny at this point), for making Emma with me and knowing how he was going to be an amazing father. I am writing this over a month after it happened and the sheer memory of that moment still brings tears to my eyes.

Due to my preeclampsia and what would be Emma having jaundice we spent a total of 6 days in the hospital. Eventually my pressure lowered but I was sent home with medication and told to supplement vitamins with iron pills to help recover from the blood loss. Emma s jaundice took some time to drop but eventually it did enough to be released. Let me tell ya, while I appreciated the nursing staff, one of the lactation consultants who helped (not both), the doctors... there is no way to describe the feeling of being wheeled out on a beautiful sunny day to freedom after being on medical lockdown that long. I liken it to a prisoner seeing/smelling freedom for the first time. It took all I had to not scream "Free at last! Free at last! Thank God Almighty I'm free at last!" to random strangers outside as the incredibly nice elderly volunteer wheeled Emma and I to Joe's Jeep.

Arriving to our new home with our new baby with a new life needless to say was incredibly overwhelming not to mention being dead tired and sore from head to toe. The fact that the family did so much for us helped but looking back I can say that the first day home was definitely the hardest. Since, Emma has thrived and has been gaining weight. We had a battle with some "breast milk jaundice" but with patience and persistence we combated that and I have recovered quite well, not only losing most if not all baby weight (not one stretch mark...what what!!) already but am off the blood pressure medication and am not only getting accustomed to our new life but am really loving it.

It seems like the birth story is such a huge story but in the scheme of everything it's really just the prelude to our new lives together. As crazy as this was all to me, I think of women who have had tragic events in their pregnancy or I think of single mothers who go through this and there isn't a moment where I do not feel blessed or thankful for every moment we went through. Our challenges or the measly 6 days in the hospital are really nothing in comparison to what others go through.

I'm eternally grateful for everyone who has been and is there for us and I'm thrilled... exhausted... but thrilled at this new role in life. Becoming Emma s mother is the one of the best things that has ever happened to me and I can't wait for all the love and chaos that follows.

Thanks for reading the Prego Blog and for all the love and support throughout as well.

Cheers!! XO.

Things I Will Teach My Daughter

I've read a few articles, stories, lists from random strangers via Huffington Post on Facebook on their lists of what they would or wouldn't teach their daughters and while I read them in jest, agreeing on some and not the other I hesitate to click "Share" because not all of what they list would be on mine and/or they are missing things I value so I thought... "Why not make my own list?" So here it is.

1. Your great grandfather always told me "If you have a nice smile, you can pretty much get away with anything" (For the record, this will not work with me or your father.. me definitely, your father perhaps on occasion).

2. Throughout life you will meet people and make friends that will last a lifetime. Keep them near and dear to your heart. Friendship is about quality, not quantity.

3. Learn how to cook. Not for anyone else but for you. Don't eat garbage processed fast food, you will endure a lifetime of your mother going on about this. I apologize in advance.

4. If you wear high heels, wear them well. By that I mean, learn how to walk properly in them. If you can't, you can't. Don't force what isn't meant to be.

5. Your father and I will always support you and love you and we don't care who you end up loving in your future (gender wise), we care that they treat you with dignity, love and respect (or we will hunt them down).

6. Always help others, especially those who cannot pay you back.

7. We think you are perfect and amazing. That doesn't mean everyone else does.

8. Your father and I will always give you what we can and support you but that doesn't mean you don't have to work for success and your own happiness. No one will make you happy in life, except you. You have the key to your future, not us. No one is to blame for your failures in life (it will happen, sorry) except you. Sometimes that is how we learn. Don't complain about things you can change either. It drives me nuts when people do it, I'll probably go even more crazy if you do that too.

9. Work hard. I mean it. Work hard, then play hard.

10. Look people in the eye when you talk to them. It's not just a Deaf Culture thing (which you will know what I mean as you grow) but it's a courtesy thing and people either respect it or are intimidated by it. Either way, that's not your problem.

11. Be a nice person. Nothing makes a person uglier, regardless of how beautiful they are on the outside, than a nasty attitude. You are special to us of course, but you are not Queen of the Universe, so don't go there.

12. If you make a mistake, own it. It happens. We make mistakes, life doesn't end. Learn, move on or the initial mistake was a waste of your time.

13. Be passionate about something. Art? Roller Derby? Music? Horses? Something. Find something you love and immerse yourself in it (so long as it is something healthy that won't worry us)   :)

14. Equality. Fight for it. There's a reason your parents are Liberals and proud of it. I'm more outspoken and open about it than your Father but every person on this planet deserves a fair platform and chance at life. No one is better than the other regardless of race, gender, sexual orientation, religion or disability/ability. No one. Fight for what is right. Don't be afraid to use your voice to fight for what is right either... even if you are standing alone.

15. On that note, don't let anyone push you around... and I mean no one.

16. However... respect Authority. Just behave please. Follow the rules, but know the parameters and boundaries of the rules. If something doesn't seem right, ask for help.

17. Sleep and hydration are the best beauty tips ever.

18. Go dancing with your friends. (Just be safe).

19. Dress for comfort and style (and in your size), not to impress anyone.

20. Speaking of size. Being a size 2 your whole life isn't an attainable goal unless you are genetically that way. Chances are you wont be (look at us). Be healthy. If that means you are a size 10, 12 ... then so be it. The world can be cruel when it comes to a woman s size. It'll take time for you to be comfortable in your own skin, hopefully that will happen to you much sooner than it did for me. We can talk about that at a later time.

21. One day you will be a woman. Be proud of that. Be independent. Be fierce.

22. Laugh. It soothes the soul and makes life brighter. Your parents are smart asses. Chances are, and hopefully you will be too. I cannot wait to laugh with you, at you and for you to do the same to us.

23. Like things or dislike things because YOU do. Not because of a romantic interest or what is "cool" or "not cool".

24. Form an opinion based on your life experience, research and what you feel is in your gut... again, not based on the opinions of others, I don't care how cute they are.

25. Always fight and stick up for family. Always. Friends come and go (the best stay) but family is always family and comes first. Even if they drive you crazy. Family. Is. First.

26. Your grandmother Courcy makes the best meatballs (and sauce for that matter). I will try my best to learn her recipe.

27. It's ok to not be perfect, so long as you give it your all. In any endeavor.

28. I will always use sign language with you, like it or not and I expect you to be able to converse with your Grandma Pilchen. I'm not your interpreter. Your father cannot be your interpreter. Remember that thing about Family? You have a Deaf family member and since Grandma has and will be around for some time, you have to learn to communicate with her. This is not negotiable.  I will one day explain to you why this is so incredibly important to me.

29. I don't care what the circumstances are, you can always always call your father and/or I for help. In the event we may want to kill you (not literally) for whatever reason, please know that first and foremost we will always help you and always want you to be safe.

30. Growing up is tough. Kids are cruel. You have the right to defend yourself but know you can always lean on us and your family.

31. It's ok to get dirty. Sometimes those are the best moments. Life isn't always glamorous, so why try to look it all the time.

32. Find GOOD people to be around. Not just people who say they are good, but GOOD people with good hearts. Toxic people have no place in your life and will do nothing but bring your drama and attempt to bring you down with them.

33. With #32... don't be afraid to walk away from those who hurt you. You don't owe anyone anything.

34. Self Care. Take time off to think. Eat Ice Cream if it'll make you feel better. Go for a walk. Take a break. Take a time out for yourself when you need to.

35. Everything in moderation. Sadly, even the ice cream.

36. Get physical. No, I mean exercise and move. It's good for your mind, body and soul. Even a simple walk does wonders. We are not asking you to be a body builder (unless that's a goal you have and we will talk about that), just be healthy and take care of your body. It's the only one you get in life.

37. Please don't smoke. Nothing good comes from it. Just never start.

38. There's a couple dishes you should master. Roasting a chicken, making risotto, coq au vin among other things. I will teach you. You will thank me later in life.

39.  FORGIVE (this is from your Father) but don't forget (from your mother).

40. If you go on a date and someone buys you dinner and drinks (if you are legal), you still owe them nothing.

41. Learn how to properly apply make up, if you choose to wear any. Sometimes the best arsenal you can have is great mascara and a good lip gloss.

42. Read books. We'll read with you.

43. Have an open mind. Just because you see something one way doesn't mean a different perspective is wrong. Try to understand it or at least open your mind to it.

44. Have manners. Please, thank you. Hold doors open for people.

45. Tip well. You are going to be broke until you have your own job, I get that. However as an adult there is zero excuse for lousy tipping. If you frequent a place, then tipping well is even more essential. In the event you have really bad service, use discretion but at least tip the minimum. Always. Just because someone lacks class or candor doesn't mean you have to as well.

46. When you are able to and can. Travel. See the world.

47. There are things you may want to only discuss with your Father (how crazy your mother is) and things you may only want to discuss with your mother (boys, tampons).. and that is ok.

48. Please don't be one of those people who eat Ketchup with everything.

49. Oh, and also don't be one of those people who say "expresso"... it's eSpresso. No X.

50. When it comes to relationships, be careful who you share your body with and always protect it. Sex doesn't equate to love.

51. Everyone has their own story and past. Don't judge others. You don't know everyone s story.

52. Napping is amazing. Funny how it's essential for babies, children... then not valued until you hit adulthood. Nothing recharges your batteries better.

53. Money doesn't grow on trees. Your father and I probably won't hit the lottery. Work hard, earn your way and manage your money wisely. Your father is good with numbers. Please learn from him.

54. Never trust people who do not like animals or children. Just don't.

55. You won't like your father and I sometimes and that is ok. We will always do what we think is best for you. Sometimes that means making you hate us momentarily. You will thank us one day.

56. Back to money. Don't strive to be wealthy. Strive to be a good person. That is more valuable than any bank account.

57. Chase your dreams and goals. Nothing is more gratifying once you accomplish them.

58. Be in a relationship that is filled with laughter, love and respect.

59. Please call us at any time. We will always answer. We don't care why. If it's for help or comfort or to discuss a late night show or you can't sleep. Call.

60. Be honest. We anticipate that you will attempt to lie to us about something at some point in your life. Chances are we will find out so just be honest.

61. Life isn't always about winning. You will lose sometimes. Take it gracefully.

62. Balance your life. Don't get so caught up or consumed with one thing that you neglect other aspects.

63. There are people in the world that will infuriate you and have totally opposite view points than you. You will never change their point of view. They will never change yours. Some things, it's ok to "agree to disagree". Don't waste your time trying.

64. Follow your gut instinct. If it doesn't feel right, it's ok to back down or change course. It happens. Again, call us if you need help.

65. Just because you want to or want it, doesn't mean you should do it or should get it. Capiche?

66. Nothing will suit you better than a proper fitting bra.

67. Put the damn cell phone/electronic device down and enjoy life. If you are constantly updating your status or proclaiming to the world what you are doing.... you aren't enjoying it. No one cares either. Just put it away.

68. Take care of your body. I said this before but taking care of your teeth, health and feet are just so important.

69. Wear perfume if you wish. Just please wear it sparingly. Don't be that person.

70. Don't be catty. Nothing shows your insecurity more. Women are beautiful. It's ok to acknowledge it. If you don't like the way one looks, don't tell them either. Chances are someone won't like your look either and that is ok too.

71. Violence in a relationship is NEVER acceptable. Friendship, romantic or otherwise. I'll say it again. VIOLENCE IS NEVER ACCEPTABLE IN RELATIONSHIPS.

72. Say I love you often. Especially to us.

73. It's ok to say I'm sorry. So long as you mean it. It doesn't mean you are weak either.

74. Your parents are not perfect but try.

75. The movies do not portray relationships/marriage very well. They take work, love, dedication and are not easy at times.

76. Crying is ok. Sometimes it's the only way to let it out and that is fine.

77. Do things out of your comfort zone. It's the only way you discover new things in life that you may not have enjoyed before.

78. Try to do whatever you want as best as you can. Politician? Janitor? Opera Singer? We don't care so long as you put your heart into it and do it well.

79. You will have your heart broken. Again, you can call me. I promise to keep ice cream on hand always.

80. Sometimes dancing alone in a room to loud music is all the therapy you need.

81. Speaking of therapy if you do ever want to talk to a professional, just let us know. I think that it is perfectly healthy, speaking from experience.

82. What is NOT healthy is using hard times in life as excuses for self destructive behavior. We WILL do something about it if we see it, know that.

83. Some people are just negative and well, they suck at life. You need to ignore these people and blow them off. Yes, your mother has a hard time doing this and yes you will hear your father tell your mother to do this so learn early. It's very hard if you haven't mastered it early.

84. It's ok to stay in bed a little while after waking up.

85. Don't chase love. It'll happen when it happens, when you least expect it.

86. Respect yourself, always.

87. You are going to have bad hair days. Learn how to make a proper bun (if you have long hair) or invest in a cute head band or hat.

88. Keep your promises.

89. Don't ever feel like you have to explain yourself to anyone (except if and when we ask).

90. Surround yourself with happy people. I hope you make friends who are special as the friends we have.

91. Empathy. If there is anything we teach you I hope it's empathy. We have failed as parents otherwise.

92. Sing in the car. With us. Alone. It doesn't matter. It doesn't matter how good or bad you are. Your parents will show you how it's done.

93. PMS is not an excuse to act coo-coo.

94. Write a diary, keep a journal.

95. Always be careful of what you put on the internet. Comments, photos, etc. They are there permanently and can hurt you down the road when you least expect it.

96. Listen to people when they need a shoulder to cry on. It's an invaluable skill to have. Your friends will love you for it.

97. It's ok to be goofy. Look at us!

98. Your father will always be the #1 Man in your life.

99. Be punctual. In fact, always be a little early. If something starts at 2:00pm, then you need to show up by 1:50pm. Showing up ON time isn't being ready for something that starts at that particular time.

100. Please always know that we will always love you and be here for you no matter what happens in life. Lean on us, rely on us, know that we will nurture and care for you and do the best that we can in the best and hard times.

32-35 Weeks. An Ultra Sound & Blood Pressure Scare

Yes, I'm behind in my updates. No I'm not sorry about it either. My typical days goes as follows; I wake up hella early to start my day and after stretching and a cup of coffee I either have to lay back down or get moving to start my day which involves a lot of waddling. By the end of my day, my cankles need to be up in the air and all I want is my body pillow. This has been my Third Trimester experience. As time goes on, my comfort levels continue to decrease however my anxiety and want to meet our daughter increases.

So...

At 32 weeks, Joe and I went to our appointment to see Dr.Wallis. In addition to the usual urine screen, weight, check in we had an ultra sound appointment. I literally gasped when I saw the difference in our Emma. Our last Ultra Sound was or seemed like months and months ago and while we could see her and all her parts. this time we saw the detailed the curvature in her nose. Her fingers wrapped tightly. Her toes, making contact with her forehead AND the technician even pointed out her hair sticking out from her tiny gorgeous head to which I replied immediately "Oh honey, she already has more hair than you do!" In addition, after reading a story that very morning about a gender label gone wrong, I asked our tech to just simply verify our babes gender and sure enough, we are still in the girl zone :) 

Emma s approximate weight at this time was 4 lbs 9 oz. Mind you the measurements have a 1 lb error margin but to know she is thriving well, all organs and limbs and features doing well left me smiling so much my face started to cramp. Leaving the appointment I felt like I could have simply floated away back to the car in a utter state of glee, something out of a Disney movie with cartoon birds fluttering over my shoulders and harp music ever so gently in the background. 

34 Weeks. The First and Hopefully the Last Scare.

Figuring this would be the normal routine appointment, I dismissed Joe from attending. Naturally this would happen when I would want him around the most. This day I had a work assignment that ended early and decided to take a nice lunch solo at one of my favorite Chinese restaurants in the area, walking distance to my doctors appointment. I personally find having lunch solo sometimes incredibly therapeutic. I'm not on anyones time except my own. I can people watch, read, eat as slow as I want. My waitress seemed to enjoy my company because she would laugh every time she addressed me, especially when I first walked in and she pointed to my belly and said "oh wow!".... I would have reacted but instead simple smiled, patted my belly and said "Yes, WOW!" (This woman is about to handle my food... I aint no fool). 

Paying my tab and collecting myself, I moseyed over the 2 blocks to my doctors office. I had brought my iPod, the sun was out and I took my sweet time waddling across the busy streets on what was a gorgeous but a bit warm of a day. 

Arriving early, I check in and am immediately called back for the routine procedure.Weight. Urine. Blood pressure. Etc. After leaving my sample in the loo, I waddle into the exam room where the nurse takes my blood pressure. I watch her eyebrows kink and I immediately ask her "What is the number"... she says 138 over something something. I said "I just walked here so let's take another in a few minutes"... knowing this is high for me and maybe the chinese food (whoops sodium) and the walk in the sun were contributors. Second reading is 140. Third reading is 140 aaaaaaand now I'm getting upset. 

Dr.Wallis comes in and tells me that at 140... I'm border line for high blood pressure and she wants me to pee in a jug for 24 hours for lab work. Peeing in a jug? I asked if she was kidding. Sadly, she wasn't. I asked if Emma was ok, what did this mean and she explained that a lot of first time mothers can have pre eclampsia, theres nothing I did to make it happen, but if I do have it there's a chance I may have to deliver in 3 weeks instead of the expected 6 (ish). Panic. Mode. Ensues. 

How the hell am I supposed to remain calm now?? I kept my composure while listening to her instructions (go to the lab downstairs, retrieve jug and urine pan, do bloodwork and go home in a panic) but immediately called Joe choking back tears while exchanging messages with my close friends who I chat with daily. I had joked a few times prior that "Watch.. perfect pregnancy then something will come out of left field and ruin my birth plan, etc.".... I immediately went back to that moment and felt this impending doom lurking.

Thankfully I have an incredibly support system to keep me from pulling out my hair and driving myself crazy. Between my friends.. and Joe I managed to just carry on, do the test all in the end to find out WE ARE AWESOME and do not have high blood pressure. I'm a little higher than normal but hey, my body is working quite a bit these days but all blood work shows we are good. All organs are functioning as they should. There's a trace of protein in the urine screen, but that is also an indicator that "the time is near". Chances are my BP being a little high was just a fluke that day but none the less a reminder that slowing down and self care has never been more of a crucial requirement than it is right now. In addition, suppose we had to deliver at any moment now, we are out of the danger zone. As I type this I'm ending my 35th week and Emma is developed and the chances of her spending any time if a short while in the NICU is incredibly small. SO, with that nugget of knowledge, I breathe, relax and carry on. 

The Good and the Not So Good

THE GOOD THINGS

Watching the belly pulse:

I never thought I'd be entertained on a weekend night by watching my exposed belly pulse and move but apparently I am. My social calender is pretty inactive these days for a variety of reasons I'm totally fine with so what else is there really to do? I'm not so sure I'd be on belly watch around anyone else besides Joe at this point but regardless of how many kicks and jabs or what feels like Emma s heel moving ever so slowly and deliberately into my rib...I can't get enough and I gasp in loving awe every time.

Ice Cream:

More and more I'm convinced Ice Cream was either invented by a pregnant lady or a husband/significant other who was incredibly sweet (get it, sweet?), wise and compassionate... an invention made out of the pure desire to appease the mother in the making exasperated from discomfort and in need of a sweet treat. Also no judgement on how often ice cream is consumed. Joe learned his lesson after one evening he said to me after I mentioned getting ice cream "Didn't you have a milkshake earlier?" Yeah that didn't end well for him. 

The Pregnancy Card:

I have it and I use it daily. I'm at a point now where I simply wear it on my forehead. "Yeah, no I'm not making an extra trip to the store, I'm pregnant."... "Oh shit, I dropped something, well someone will get it. I'm pregnant and can't bend over."..... "Yes, I really am going up to bed at 8:30pm. I'm pregnant.".... "So what if I'm crying at a commercial for Life Insurance. I'm pregnant." ..... What I first joked as something I looked forward to using is something I need to use often. I'm not claiming to be incapable of anything what so ever... well, maybe I should wait to bungee jump til NEXT summer but never the less, I am physically, mentally and now it seems emotionally limited into what I can or want to do these days... because I'm pregnant (waving card in the air).

Hiccups:

Emma seems to have hiccups every morning when I wake up and while at first they freaked me out, I have to say I enjoy the consistent pulse to my side where her back is (per the Ultra Sound technician from our appointment the other day) and try to attempt picturing her bouncing around inside. I've also taken up rubbing my fingers/hands over that area with the ideal that in no time I'll be rubbing her back as she lays in my arms.

Are people actually nicer?:
I highly doubt that the noticeable niceness of those around me are due to my charming, sparkling and over all joyous personality (cough)... but it seems to me that people are more polite and or friendly to a pregnant lady. I also enjoy following the eye gaze of strangers, from eyes straight to belly. I'm tempted to one day (probably should do that soon seeing as time is running out) to respond to someone asking how far long I am, making the assumption I am pregnant with a "What do you mean??? Do you really think I'm pregnant?" while holding a horrified facial expression as long as I can. Ya know, just to see what happens.

THE NOT SO GOOD THINGS

Flinstone Feet:
No seriously, All I need is a car made out of stone and I could run that piece of shit all throughout Syracuse on what has turned  into these god awful pads of skin filled with god knows what, that look like something that was bred, born and raised in the Amazon. When you first wake up and place your puffy feet on the floor which are so puffy that your toes can't even touch the ground... oh let me tell you... you are NOT bringing Sexy Back.

Who took my body and what is this heavy skin sac you left me to die in?
If you did a google image search and entered "Michele Pilchens nipples".. chances are you would see 2 massive round things in the results. I get what the purpose of the nipples are but good Lord, is my babe going to be suffocated by these things? Are we anticipating her having a mouth like Steven Tyler? WHY the need for crater size nipples. I only hope our little home girl can handle them. The baby isn't here yet and I feel like something out of a National Geographic magazine (can't wait to see what breastfeeding will do to them). Not to mention the fact that the chest in general is just in the way. For the record, I'm not too proud to admit I've thought about a breast lift after we are done making babies. That's right. I said babies as in plural. I don't need more breast, I just want them to be as fabulous as they used to be, pointing out, not down. This is just speaking of the chest. Never mind the thigh expansion and the incredibly round and borderline impressive ass to boot. At least I was told I was growing proportionately which thinking on that now, I'm not so sure I feel so flattered.

Hygienic Routines May Require Yoga and Deep Breathing:
Think of everything you do in the bathroom that you do with ease. Yeah, everything. Shaving, cleaning up after using the toilet, clipping toe nails, then add pregnancy to it... a few pounds, the inability to bend and what you have is a routine that tests your patience and requires breaks. Seriously, had someone told me it what it would take just to clip the nails off my Flinstone Feet I would have thought "It can't be that bad".. oh it is. You wonder why some women just give up and let go.

I can already feel the reaction of some "It'll be worth it in the end"... "Some women can't experience what you do so just ... blah blah blah">..I KNOW. I really know but as happy as we are to be producing, we are allowed our feelings of frustration just the same. I've done some crazy and wonderful shit in my time and this is by far one of the most amazing adventures I've been. This journey is about me, the babe and Joe most of the time :) so either take me as I am, my swollen cankles of happiness and frustration or just pass a pint of ice cream and go away silently.

30 Weeks and We Aint Got "The Suga!!"

Comparatively speaking it is without doubt or notice that I have had a pretty awesome pregnancy thus far. Nothing out of the ordinary, no odd eating habits have developed, usual symptoms (some more odd than others but within the range of what is to be expected) all smooth sailing.

At the end of last week I had my glucose screening to rule out gestational diabetes. Basically you drink this god awful liquid (think of a super sweet flat orange soda), geek out on a sugar high while your doctor tries to examine you and all you want to do is cartwheels down the hall and then get your blood drawn after an hour. We can send men to the moon. Our technology and advances in modern medicine are unprecedented and this is how we determine if one has "the suga". Right. Well if you are like me and hypoglycemic then may I recommend not planning on doing much of anything for the rest of the day if and when you go through this god awful event.

After drinking the fluid in the lab, I went to my appointment on the 6th floor to meet with Dr. Wallis. Palms sweaty and already feeling the sugar rush I checked in, sat down and waited to be called in. Bouncing my way back into an exam room with a stop to check my weight (didn't even look this time so I literally don't know what the number is and don't care) I chat with the nurse .. yes all is good, no change in anything. Hit the loo for the usual peeing in the cup routine which logistically when you cannot see around your stomach starts to become a test to see how well you know where your parts are 'in the dark' and how well you can aim. Luckily I know where my parts are and my aim is what you could consider "sniper status" so far! (You are welcome).

Waiting in the room for the doctor felt like an eternity, probably because I was jacked up like a kid the day after Halloween and obsessively looking at the time to make sure I was able to make it back to the lab at exactly one hour after drinking the demon syrup. There was no way in hell I was going to screw this up and have to endure this again.

Dr.Wallis arrives and again, the same old same old. Ironically my blood pressure was lower than my previous visit (still in the awesome range) and Emmas heartbeat was 135, lower than her usual 143 ish. Upon measuring with the tape, Dr.Wallis mentions that Emma seemed a "bit big". I suggested that maybe Emma just inherited my ass, instead of Joes. Dr.Wallis mentions that a bigger baby could be a sign of gestational diabetes and she that wants to schedule our next appointment with a sonogram so we can get an idea as to how big our girl really is. Nothing like adding to the suspense!!

A hop back down to the lab after the appointment and my blood is drawn. I realize at 35 I should be well versed and used to having my blood drawn but it still makes my palms sweaty and I cannot watch the needle enter my arm.

The rest of the day was a day with an "off" stomach, no appetite and a major sugar crash that left me with a headache and slightly light headed. Thankfully a few days later, the test results came back negative and all my additional blood work also came back in the clear. Just knowing that everything continues to be smooth sailing and well is worth every drop of that fakakta nasty orange hate juice.

Our next appointment is the 20th, where we shall see our girl and get an idea as to how much of her mamas backside she may have inherited. Just knowing that with each day brings us closer to Emma makes my soul sing.

Cheers!

The Baby Registry

I remember the first time I shopped at Babys R US for a baby registry. Actually, I remember the feeling of having shopped there for the first time and remember going for drinks immediately after. Because of that (the drinks) I cannot recall exactly who I shopped for but I remember feeling overwhelmed and shell shocked at the enormity of the store and the ridiculous things that a new little human being "needs". For me, it was stepping into foreign territory. Carefully going down each isle, checking the printed sheet for what the baby de jour was in need of in a sea of pinks, greens and blues and pictures of happy babes... their eyes following me where ever I went. I think that visit was one (of a few) reason(s) why I took great care in making sure I would not become pregnant until I was good and ready to do so. Thank you Michele! You are welcome, Michele!

Through out the years, I have attended numerous showers and there were even some I couldn't make it to. I say this with love and nothing but respect and adoration for the women who so thoughtfully invited me to be a part of a special event in their lives but I gotta be honest, I was never a big fan of the shower. Wine usually helped and it helped even more when I was drinking said wine with a fellow friend who like me was not interested in reproducing at all, what so ever. At 35 and only just some what recently coming down with baby fever, I have a bevy of lady friends who started pumping out their brood in their early 20's. Having no child, surrounded by people who had children and only talked about children then asked when you were going to have children or find a man to have children with simply wasn't a good time for me. The unwrapping of every.... single.... present.... with the ohhhs and the ahhhs... would only make me and if I was lucky, the only other non baby having friend there make eye contact, pour more wine in our glasses and exchange "that smile" (untranslatable and/or unnoticeable to anyone on baby island).... and now, ALAS.. it is my turn and I couldn't be more excited to cash in my ticket and head on over to that very island myself.

I was told by a few ladies to leave Joe home and do the registry by myself. Uh, Hi, have you met Joe? Leaving him home was never an option, for him anyways. It wasn't until he hogged the scanner for the entire visit that I almost wished I had left him home but to be honest, I probably would have dropped the scanner, booklet and complimentary bottle of water and ran for my life half way through the registry had he not been there. Joe said he wanted a part in what we were choosing for our daughter... and how does your heart not melt when the father of your unborn child says something like that to you. Honestly.

We arrive on a Sunday (we were excused from our usual Sunday dinner obligations) about Noonish and the store was I'd say "medium busy". The moment we walked in, Joe looked around and said "Wow, I didn't realize the store was this big!" Naturally I laugh at him because it was obvious at this point he had no idea what he was getting himself into. We sit at the desk with an associate to which Joe immediately starts charming "Hey, how are ya... and how are you doing today?" After I get the paperwork and allow them to become new friends, Joe snags the scanner leaving me to hold the booklet and pen and off we go. I had only told him I was looking forward to scanning items while making "pew pew" sounds about 50 times prior to our visit but apparently he had other plans for us. This actually worked out in my favor though. I had "THE LIST" and simply dictated what we needed and the scanner kept him occupied.

We started with the simple items first, the bedroom stuff and worked our way over to the most ridiculous wall of bottles and the other 400,000 random small items that apparently our child will need mental health therapy for should we not add them to our list. We made out (not literally) fairly well but after circling the store 3 times I was over it. My feet started to ache, I was getting hungry (which turns to hangry rather quick) and I just had enough. I need to step away, regroup, drink water, sit down and breathe my headache away. I asked Joe a few times "Ok, I think we are set, how about we go now?" Eventually he caved and we left. Thankfully he provided much needed comic relief (especially around the car seat and stroller isles) so I had no choice but to buy him dinner and a couple beers. Hell, I would have had a couple beers if weren't for that whole Fetal Alcohol thing.. but then again, this is the visit I rather remember most :) Registry? CHECK!

Moving on up... to the East Side....

Joe s parents live in East Syracuse as well as his brother, sister in law, nephews and an Aunt and Uncle all on one street ending in a cul de sac. Not together mind you, everyone has their own abode neatly tucked away in the suburban hills of manicured lawns, smiling neighbors who wave when you drive by surrounded by a serene quietness you do not experience when living basically in the middle of the city of Syracuse (as I type I can hear the lull of traffic, the murmur of motorcycles as Syracuse wakes up and heads into their day).

Months ago, I believe at the end of 2013 (pre prego) there was a house on that same very street that came up for sale. Joe with his parents and brother took a look at it and they brought up the idea of us moving out that way. Being non prego and loving the location of our home as well as the home itself we looked at each other like they had offered us to have our heads surgically removed and exchanged for the other. "Why in the world would we move from here" we thought. We live in the Sedgwick area of Syracuse. We have a 10 minute ride pending traffic to downtown or really anywhere in Syracuse. We have a pool in the backyard and our kitchen is huge and have the perfect house for a couple who likes to entertain. For me it's great because since I work everywhere I'm close to all of the major highways including the Thruway and every job is just a mere hop and a jump away. We have our places, our spots here.. Rileys, Shiftys, Lucky 7's, we like our neighbors. Why on EARTH would we possibly move?????

Then we became pregnant (sorry Mila Kunis I'm using the "we" are pregnant because I am.. if this is over your head, google it).

You start looking at your home to accommodate a new human being. Is it big enough? Is it safe? How many steps and stairs do we have? How many crimes have happened in our neighborhood? Oh, the city school district? The questions and concerns start piling up and your whole ideal as to what is best for you becomes what is best for your child. Will she exposed to crime in this neighborhood? How will being in the city school district affect her education? Will we have to get a gun (a discussion we actually had that was a huge RED FLAG), do we need to add more sensor lights around the house, is our security system adequate .. do we need video cameras, the list goes on and on.

Meanwhile the house that was for sale months ago still sits vacant and for sale.

A couple weeks ago prior to going to Sunday dinner (if you aren't aware of the Italian law of Sunday dinner, it's just that... at Joe's parents) the subject of the house was brought up again and this time Joe and I didn't look at each other with the same look 7 months ago. Instead, we stopped at the empty house and peered inside, walking around entertaining the notion of a possible move. By the time we arrived to his parents house (literally 2 houses down the street) we decided to pull the trigger and make an offer on the house.

Our offer was a respectable offer but not one we were confident was going to be approved. It wasn't. There was a counter offer by the owner of the house and then we countered his counter offer. Being that it was the July 4th weekend and we were planning to be out of town, we didn't expect word on the house until after we returned home and that's exactly what happened. I was on a job site about to use the ladies room and leave for the day when I get a text message to "call me when you can". I HATE it when Joe texts me that. My mind instantly goes "OMG, there was an accident" or "Do we need bread?" It lacks any sign of a good or bad reason to call. Yes, I've told Joe this. No, he doesn't get it. SO, I call him basically crossing my legs doing a dance in front of the bathroom door. It rings.... "Please don't be by the side of the road" is going through my head ... 'HEY!' (Joe).. Me: What's up? Joe: "Start packing! We got the house!"

When we both arrived home that day we just looked at each other like "YAYYY!!!" and "F@$!$#*K we have to move!?!?!?!" at the same time. This is actually happening. We are really having a baby. We are really moving out of a house we love. We are really making a ton of changes. We both really needed to sit down and start breathing. I probably would have poured myself a glass of wine or 3 if there wasn't that Fetal Alcohol Syndrome thing or the general notion of alcohol not being good for babies.

The following day we had an appointment to view the inside (Joe, again) and me for the first time. I know, right? Hey, I trust Joes instinct as well as what his family says. The stats and from what I saw on the outside and through the widows and pictures were that good for me to be on board is all I'm saying.

The viewing of the house proved them all right. (Thank you baby Jesus). A large family room similar to what we have now with high ceilings, sky lights and fans. 4 bedrooms. 2.5 baths with the 1/2 bath on the first floor (we don't have that now), closet space as in a walk in (amen), a large yard, we aren't crazy about the kitchen but could see the potential for making it our dream kitchen and the list goes on. The school district is ESM (good), walking distance to family (good), good neighborhood, we already know everyone who lives around there for the most part (including our immediate neighbors), 2 car garage attached to the house (baby + winter+ garage= happy mom), and overall? It just makes sense now as opposed to 7 months ago.

So it's on. Anyone looking to buy a lovely 3 bedroom home in Syracuse? :) Seriously, contact us if you are.

Updates! Growth! Big Plans!

It's been some time since my last blog update which should probably indicate that nothing too dramatic has been happening really. The baby is growing. I'm growing in all directions although I'm glad to say that at this point in time (I'll be eating my words in no time) have yet to tackle the ever so sexy and seductive look that is cankles. Let me bring everything current:

Baby & Me

We are at 26 weeks! Overall I feel great although as Emma grows (and everything else) my lower back is starting to pay the price. I weighed myself the other day and let's just say that if I wasn't pregnant I probably would have sat on my bathroom floor crying. Not that I have always maintained a physique that would qualify me for a body building contest (and no thank you, not my style anyways), I've always been active and tried to maintain a healthy tone (ish) body. Well, pregnancy is changing that some. I remain active but this growing on each end thing is something to seriously get used to and something to simply accept which I am. As a few friends say, 9 months to put it on, 9 months to take it off. What makes every pound and thicker part of me worth it all are the moments when I am laying still and not only can I feel Emma kick from the inside but from the outside with my hand over my belly AND I can see my stomach move as well.

Our last doctors appointment 3 weeks ago was the routine urine screen (good), weight (none of your business), and listening of the heart (a steady 143). This time I had Dr. Robert Pyke, one of the group of doctors in the practice. He explained their process... named "The Doc in the Box" and that at all times, one of the doctors are on call ready to attend to their patients needs, labor, etc. I asked Dr.Pyke his philosophy on C-Sections and I was relieved to hear that he will not perform elective C-Sections because they "weren't natural" and felt things should progress on their own. He supports my desire to have as little medical intervention as possible (unless we need it) and made a joke about his sister comparing childbirth to pushing out a bowling ball. That's when I knew we would get along just fine. Since all is well my next appointment is scheduled for next week, Tuesday I think where I get to have the lovely glucose exam.. drink that god awful liquid, have blood taken and the usual urine/weight check up as well. This next appointment is with Dr.Thompson and if you read my initial blog I have a feeling that this is "Dr.LongFingers". If so, I pray that Joe keeps his composure so that I do. Or the other way around.

What I'm Learning:

Slowing Down
So about that whole getting bigger thing. A couple weeks ago I worked a pretty full work week. My work also involves travel, sometimes I'm in the car up to 3 hours a day just going from job to job. I couldn't wait for my last job on that Friday. More so for my back, my mind and my desire to just lay down with my new and amazing body pillow (why I waited til pregnancy to have one, I have no idea). I simply cannot physically do what I'm used to doing and I need to remind myself of that every day.

Ice Cream
Give it to me now. Always have a supply in the freezer... and these days, a pint (or larger) never goes bad.

T.V
Avoid all shows depicting violence against women and children or shows with tragic pregnancies, miscarriages or abuse to animals as well. Not that I was ever a fan of watching these but just no. Cannot and will not do it.

Radar
Pregnancy and motherhood IS the cult I expected it was all along. The proof? Watch me and a pregnant woman walk past each other. Wanna know what happens? We give each other the smile and head nod similar to what I would expect fellow gang members to do as their greeting "Sup, yeah I know you had heartburn yesterday and you are fighting those cankles.. me too sister... me ... too". OR the woman with children who gives me that "Oh you are smiling and glowing now but wait until you can't get your kicking kid into the shopping cart and are covered in chocolate that you never had with you to begin with" look. Yeah, totally can read that off of some women. Truly a cult and I ... their newest member. Salud ladies!

Paranoia
"What if my daughter becomes a meth head?"
"What if she hates me?"
"What if she becomes a Republican?"

Fears that I have no reason to be fearful of at least now.... the strangest and most unrealistic things come to mind and all of a sudden it's all I can think about. Rational? Absolutely not. Funny when thinking back on it? Of course.

Joe
I gotta give him credit. He hugs me when I ask and has been so helpful with everything including his patience. I have read ... a lot of books about pregnancy and babies and watch shows and read articles and am a wee obsessive about this whole process because it's literally consuming every aspect of my life. Joe has the luxury of not noticing how big his ass is getting, not having the constant craving to eat pasta (even for breakfast), orknowing that most of last years summer clothes belong in a bin reserved for next year, etc. He doesn't feel the need to discuss it or touch my belly every time Emma moves. So, I'm attempting to not inundate him with "too much baby" which can be difficult at times especially when I'm waddling (that's right, I'm at that stage) all over the house with heartburn, getting kicked from the inside craving ice cream. I think of those women who are single mothers and go through pregnancy without the father of the child or in a relationship and I can't help but feel blessed. This isn't easy and Joe (along with my friends and family of course) has really been a rock for me especially at those times when I just want to cry and he says something so asinine that all I can do is laugh. I cannot image doing this without him.

Dresses
Yes please. I'd like to give props to the Old Navy Maternity line of clothes (thanks Mel and Melissa). I know women say "Oh god, pregnant during the summer... eesh" however, I beg to differ (so far). I prefer to wear dresses to begin with so knowing my summer, the majority will be spent in flowy dresses is perfectly fine by me. I think it would be a pain in the ass to be prego during the winter. The pants, the bundling up, the boots, the snow, the potential to slip and fall. I'll take a sweaty summer day in my dress and flip flops any day.. just keep the ice water flowing!

What the hell is a Push Present!?

The first time I heard the term "push present" was only last month while in New Jersey for the weekend, surrounded by my ladies (sans one Californian) to celebrate Melissa's baby shower. As friends who have kids and the remaining of us expecting, naturally a lot of discussion centered around child birth, kids, pregnancy symptoms (I will spare you) and it was during this that the term "push present" was mentioned. I don't remember by whom or why but I remember asking " what the hell does that mean?"...

For anyone not familiar it's a gift or token if you will from husband or partner to their wife or significant other after the birth of the child, hence the push....present.

At the moment I didn't really think on it enough to form an absolute opinion and then one day back home I read an article in New York Magazine on just that topic. The point of view was from a woman who was anti push present and disgusted from overhearing ladies converse about their Mercedes or diamonds as their push present.

I asked some friends via Facebook on their thoughts and there was a stark divide between those who have received push presents and those who thought it was a materialistic and unnecessary ritual of the privileged. I think I'm stuck somewhere in the middle.

Who am I to tell someone not to give the mother of their child a present if they want for giving birth? It has nothing to do with me. Do I think it should be expected? No, but people do and again has nothing to do with me.

When I asked Joe his thoughts on 'push presents', he looked up at me with one brow up and said " what the hell is a push present?"... After I summarized the NY Mag article to him he replied with his usual shit grin "so.... You don't want a Lamborghini then?" ..... I reminded him that a car seat would probably not fit in one.  I then told him I wanted and expected nothing tangible from him after giving birth. All I wanted was his undivided attention and support, his sense of humor when I am in pain or frustrated and to work from home for the first week after we bring Emma home.

For me, and I speak only for myself and do not judge those who have received them.... I don't see how jewelry or a car or a free trip to the moon could compare or serve as a token of anything comparable to bringing a person into the world.  Again, just my opinion. Our child is a symbol and token of something so special... Of us, made by us, loved by us and that's all I need.

The Lamborghini can wait until Christmas.

18 weeks ♥ It's a GIRL!! and we shall name her, Emma Louise Courcy~

May 14th 2014


The day finally arrives. Yes, we waited 2 weeks since our last appointment and within the 2 week wait, nothing consumed my thoughts more than trying to determine on my own, based on no real logic or reason the gender of the person I am carrying/growing.

I would say the majority of people have guessed "boy". Joe's mother who had 3 boys of her own and has 3 grandsons and 2 granddaughters suspected a boy and since she accurately guessed the gender of all those children I have to say I was leaning towards a boy at this point, as was Joe. For the record, we want a healthy baby and did not have our hearts set on any one gender.

Up at the crack of dawn, well... earlier around 5:30am I couldn't help but wonder exactly what to expect for the day. A couple of work assignments out of the way and we would meet up at the 2pm appointment on "the hill".

With overflowing glee I arrived to the office almost 20 minutes early. When I texted Joe that I arrived, he replied with "parking"... which I couldn't help but smile at. Apparently I wasn't the only one anxious to get the show on the road.

I thought the 2 weeks were a torturous wait but no.. waiting for your name to be called might in fact be worse. I'm pretty sure that when we were called in, I leaped up and skipped towards the ultra sound tech room with the biggest smile on my face. Joe followed, equally as excited.

This ultra sound was also to do an "anatomy scan". Heart, kidneys, stomach, brain, legs, arms belly, umbilical cord. Not only checking to make sure all parts are there and functioning but also to make sure that oxygen is flowing which is determined by a flip of a switch to see the pulsating colors of red and blue through each organ. FASCINATING. The technician who told me her name but of course I cannot remember asked us if we wanted to know the gender and we said in unison "YES!", thinking this bit of information would be the first to know. Turns out, it was the last... which was perfectly fine. Obviously organ functions are a bit more important to check on than the genitalia.

From our 12 week ultra sound to today, the difference is astonishing. Growth, visible body parts, the profile. We could make out the nose, the lips, fingers. According to the scan, our babe is so far perfect! The babe was also incredibly active and as we are told, is a very good sign. So last but not least it was time to find out if we were having a daughter or a son.

Naturally, the babe had its legs crossed and both hands on its cheeks (facial cheeks) a la Home Alone. I had to excuse myself to use the restroom (pain in the ass considering I'm covered in goo and have a paper blanket tucked into my underwear.. no elegant way of getting yourself together after that) and returned in hopes that would help maneuver the babe. It didn't. So I had to turn to my side, then back on my back, then the side again and then back to my back and just when I think that we aren't going to know we hear....

"IT'S A GIRL!!!"

Since I was already holding Joe's arm, I looked over in tears and Joe's face was priceless. Eyes bulging out of his head and his mouth wide open turned my happy tears in to a happy belly laugh (which is neat to see on the ultrasound as well too). A girl. We are having a girl. A LITTLE GIRL!!!!!!!!!!

I teased Joe on the way out of the office "Wasn't your house a bachelor pad (it was, rather not know details) once? ... look at it now, run by your ladies (me, Winnie and now Emma)" I believe a few of his friends used the term "karma" to describe him having a daughter. I suggested that our house anthem (not that we've had one before but we can now) be Beyonce's "Who Runs The World"... but I'm not so sure he's having it but it's something he'll have to get used to :)

EMMA LOUISE COURCY

The funny thing is, we decided on Emma Louise a few weeks after I found out I was pregnant. Emma was the only name we both liked. Simple, easy, feminine. The middle name of Louise stems from my family. My Aunt Diane Louise passed of breast cancer in her early 30's and my sister was named after her. I wanted a bit of my family to be in the name since Courcy is her last name and Emma has no connection to my family at all. Joe liked it as well so that was the easiest part! What's funny is that we couldn't agree on a boys name and I can honestly say that if we were told it was a boy? It'd be some time before we figured that name out. I've been asked if we would change our mind since we are only 18 weeks in at this point and we won't. Emma Louise just feels right. That's her name and we couldn't be more blessed that we are now.

More important than her name, the doctor informed us that our recent Quad screenings came back (essentially) negative, Emma is at 9 oz (perfect size for her age), blood work is excellent and we are on the right path so far! As long as there are no concerns we won't have another appointment for 4 weeks :)

My heart couldn't be filled with more love if I tried and now that we know it's a girl, it's a bit more real for us now. Now, on to planning her room. The colors (I may have already had mental palates of color in my head for both genders) will be lavender and a dark tan/brown.

I write this as my friend Melissa is in her hospital room awaiting the birth of her little girl (Emma's future BFF)... I couldn't be more proud of her at this moment and can barely contain my tears when thinking of our incredibly lucky lives. To you, Melissa. ♥ xoxo

16 week check up!!!!!!!

We had our 16 week check up!

After the initial weight, urine sample and blood pressure (good, btw) check up I waited for the doctor to come into the exam room. I am incredibly grateful to have a doctor who I not only like but takes the time to talk with me without making me feel pressured for time. I had some questions regarding their practice, mostly after watching The Business of Being Born (Thanks Kate) and conversations I have had with my other pregnant friends...

I asked about their theory or practice or lack there of doing VBACs, which she does and supports (which I was hoping she would say) and prefers vaginal births to C Sections (again something else I was hoping she would say). Not that that affects me now in any way, to me it says something about the theories used in the practice which as a patient makes me feel better.

 

My friend Jennifer and I were discussing giving birth over lunch (because why wouldn't we) and she mentioned how her doctor doesn't believe in clamping the umbilical cord immediately after birth to cut. Her doctor believes it best to leave it attached as long as possible and if I heard her correctly, would dry up and fall off of someone within 10 to 15 minutes maximum. His theory is that there is some kind of link to prematurely clamping and cutting the blood supply from the mother right away to Autism. If you ask me, I'm sure we can find a doctor who says breathing air has links to Autism but out of curiosity I shared this with my doctor.

 

Dr.Wallis (who I love for not looking me like I'm crazy for being curious) said she falls in the middle of the practice. She won't cut immediately but will wait until she can feel the amount of blood reduce in the cord before clamping. Unless there is an immediate need to resuscitate the baby or anything like that she feels that allowing some extra blood into the babe is the best practice however, waiting too long to clamp and cut can contribute to jaundice, hence, her middle ground stance. Not too short, not too long. Sounds reasonable to me.

 

After our discussion, we grabbed Joe from the waiting room so we could both hear the heart beat. Not shocking was the fact that the babe kept moving around every time the doctor moved the wand over my belly.. moving away. Dr.Wallis finally was able to "catch him/her" and we were able to hear that sweet rapid pulsing coming from the speaker. With confidence she said our babe has a strong heartbeat and that we were good to go!

 

The only negative thing was having to get blood drawn yet again for the Quad screening which basically gives the doctor an idea as to the chances of any genetic findings. A 1 in so and so chance of this and that. Apparently it's routine and apparently it can offer false positives so I'm not even going to stress it.

 

What WILL stress me is the fact that she wants to see us in two weeks on May 14th to do a sonogram TO FIND OUT THE GENDER (!!!!!!!!!!!!) and check the overall body of our peanut.

 

This will be the longest 2 weeks E V E R.

 

Cheers!!

Flutters, hunger and maternity pants

Flutters Away!

A couple evenings ago I was laying on the couch when all of a sudden, I had a fluttering feeling in my lower abdomen. It wasn't gas (trust me I would have known if it was), I wasn't hungry, didn't have an upset stomach.... then it happened again. My eyes bulged out of my head at what I think was and am pretty sure since I get them regularly now our babe moving around and sending a tactile hello via the womb. The emotions were similar to seeing our babe, gummy bearish on the screen for the first time. Our baby making moves as to let me know he/she is there moving around, enjoying "womb service" and just taking it's sweet time growing and getting ready to greet us this fall....  makes MY heart flutter.

Cravings, so far....

For the most part, my cravings have been pretty tame but healthy. Strawberries were all I could think of for a week. Pasta is the constant craving, unless sub consciously I just love pasta and my body is using pregnancy as an excuse to eat it regularly. Let's just say Pasta is a craving... and now ... chocolate. I was at lunch with a dear friend Jennifer (who I think is 2 cm dilated as I type this very moment) when we discussed our need to eat ice cream while sitting in the sunshine after lunch. We stopped at our local ice cream stop and for the first time in as long as I can remember I ordered a chocolate milk shake. Jen had her ice cream. If it wasn't for the children around us, I probably would have made inappropriate moaning sounds with each sip. It's my new love. Well, chocolate in general (of good quality, not crap chocolate) but since I'm not a human garbage disposal and rather not gain the recommended total weight before my 3rd trimester I shall try my best to space out my indulging. The key word being try. I'm also not sure if this is a common occurrence with pregnancy or if it's just me but I feel like I also have culinary related A.D.D. I want a hotdog (and yes I can eat them so long as they are well cooked, thank you... I checked)... No, I want a peanut butter & jelly sandwich... NO! Wait! A slice of pizza.. No! An orange... just a glass of milk. Every. Day. I guess as long as I'm not eating everything I crave the moment I think of it, I'm alright. Thankfully I haven't had the pleasure of eating anything I consider bizarre or unusual. Yet.

Maternity Pants

So not sexy, with the stretchy belly covering material...... but so frikking comfortable that the woman who invented these.. and yes, I'm going to suggest that this brilliant idea came from a woman..... who ever she is... deserves The Medal of Honor, Nobel Prize... Presidential Pardon (if she was or is incarcerated) just something to show how genius and wonderful she truly is. I salute you kind lady.

"Because Being Nice Matters"

I'm only at 16 weeks and it's quite incredible the amount of insults I've already endured. Most of them are by unknowing or well intentioned people and chances are I've blurted out some blunders in my pre pregnancy time. Who knows. Let me just say this. Me being pregnant doesn't permit you or anyone else to make comments about my size, or allow you to inquire about personal things happening in my uterus.

I was told at 14 weeks after I had a large breakfast mind you that I was "big for 14 weeks". I wanted to respond with something vicious but opted not to since I was in a work environment which leads me to ask this....

Why the hell do I have to watch what I say, when no one else has to? Maybe if I bit your head off you will remember for the rest of your life to proceed with caution when making verbal observations of the pregnant woman in front of you.

Another hilarious thing I encounter pretty much daily is if I know the gender of our babe. If I did, I would have probably told you by now wouldn't I? In addition and maybe it's because I have mucho friends and family who have already birthed babies but I have known for some time that it takes a little while before you can tell if a fetus has a P or a V. If my doctor hasn't told me yet, then no, I don't know. I lack X Ray vision (which would be harmful to my babe if I did) and my crystal ball is currently broken so I'm at the mercy of time. Please forgive me. The moment I know my babes genitalia I will order a plane and have it fly around with a large banner.

There are a few people who I allow passes to, in other words people I won't want to kill for any comment they make for the most part. I can count them on my one hand. One of course is my mother. I took her to lunch the other day, mainly to appease her sudden need to see me all the time now that I'm pregnant. I love my mom and most of the time, she doesn't drive me nuts... pending the day so I was looking forward to it.

I take her to lunch in my small home town of Waterville. It's a town, 2 or 3 traffic lights max, surrounded by farms and corn fields. During lunch my mother and I are chatting about the baby to be. I should note, and if you know me then you know my mother is Deaf so our conversation is in American Sign Language. Since Waterville is not known for it's diversity in any way except maybe patterns of John Deere overalls the locals wear, it's a safe bet to assume no one in the place knows ASL except for my dear mother and I. Mother asks me how I'm feeling and asks me about my clothes and if I'm feeling ok. I should point out that ASL unlike English doesn't allow for beating around the bush which is perhaps why I prefer to communicate in ASL than English most of the time. I flat out tell my mother that my stomach is popping what feels like more and more each day and that on top of it, I'm at the mercy of my chest.. having to wear supportive sport bras and tanks with support under my clothes just to be comfortable.

To this my mother places her hands in front of her own chest, make the sign for growing breasts and points to me while looking at MY chest and yells.. yes YELLS the one word she has always been to pronounce so eloquently...

"SHIT!!!!!!!!!!"

Everyone looks over in our direction. My mother is laughing with her head down and I raise my water glass and say "Cheers!" to smiling faces who realize that we are having a nice time (and maybe too that I am capable of hearing them talk so best keep their comments to themselves).

So unless you are my mother or one of the other few who have a pass... and if you are not sure if you are one of them, chances are ... you aren't..... Be kind and thoughtful when making your comments because chances are I can find something to say about you as well.

Cheers!!

Pre Prego Confessions

4/22/14



As we approach our 15 weeks, I can say that I officially feel, look and think 100% like a pregnant woman. I also have to make a confession.

Back in the not so far back day until long ago, I was one of those (non prego) women who would listen to a pregnant woman go on and on and on about their pregnancy/baby growth and initially would listen and be engaged and happy. After listening to the stories time and time again, I admit that I would be dying inside. After rolling my eyes (to myself), I would think (to myself) "You are NOT the first pregnant person on the planet!!"..."Oh my god please stop!" ...... "Holy Crap when are you going to give birth so my misery ends"...... and many other no so pleasant thoughts. For that I apologize but at the time, that was me.

I totally get it now. I have become that person and for those of you who aren't there yet, I apologize. If you decide to have kids I hope you learn to understand at that time and forgive me. For my people that do not plan on having children, again, I'm sorry. It's just a mentally, physically, life consuming thing I'm dealing with right now. My entire body, mind, spirit, cell, physical ability, appetite, digestive system, sleeping pattern, etc etc etc ...every inch of my being and life is consumed by this person growing inside of me. If my stories or babyness is too much for you right now... I will understand if you need to take some space until my mind and body is once again or at least partially of my own in the future. I also promise to never scorn or roll my eyes (internally) at another maternity/baby story ever again in my entire life (unless I just don't like you in which case, chances are I won't be around you... but you never know).


Thank you to my friends and family who have been so comforting, supportive and loving, regardless if you are rolling your eyes at me or not.

Next appointment: April 30th! Our 16 week appointment!

Love,

Us.

12 week sonogram/nuchal translucency screening

We are already at our 12 weeks! With that comes our 2nd trip to the doctor for a sonogram (thankfully from the outside, on the stomach) and nuchal translucency screening. As I was told and as it seems to be true, as I near the end of my first trimester I finally feel energetic... yesterday I was almost to the point of being hyper active, which I think was more influenced knowing we were going to see our babe again. It could have been the sweet cinnamon rolls we made in the waffle iron (that's right, you read me right) topped with that sugary glaze. Regardless, I am alive once again.

The sonogram was beyond exciting. As I laid on the table with the technician scrolling over my lower abdomen with the whatever you call it, caked in hot goo... came a shape on the screen of a teeny human head... a human body and all 4 limbs. With every moment she put pressure on my belly, the baby kicked it's legs up as if to say "Uhhh, do ya mind?". Of course I balled.

Speaking with our Doc, we learned that not only was my blood work fine but the reading of the sonogram/nuchal put our babe in the low risk category. What I thought was funny was that the Doctor informed me that I, ME was the high risk because ... get this... of my "advanced maternal age".... I raised my fist in jest and gritted my teeth through a smile but also knew this was just part of the procedure and schpeel when they have a prego woman who is of the (young and fabulous) age of 35 before them.

The realities of being 35 can present some risk factors genetically speaking and Joe and I were privy to a chromosomal lesson yesterday. I could feel Joe rolling his eyes as he sat slightly behind me in the chair behind the table as the words flowed in one ear and out the other. Don't get me wrong. Joe is incredibly savvy when it comes to numbers and he could sell a rain jacket to a person who lived in the Sahara Desert. Listening to a lesson on how and when chromosomes divide and the percentage rates of women with complications as their age rises? Not so much his forte.

Prior to this appointment, Joe and I made the decision that in no way unless deemed absolutely necessary (something indicated there was something SERIOUS with our babe) would we go through any invasive testing. Amniocentesis, CVS (Chorionic villus sampling) both have a slight miscarriage rate and that just didn't seem ok with me. In addition, let's say we found out our child had Down Syndrome or any other disability... we wouldn't terminate, so... what's the point? I did happen to find out that a blood screening was available, MaterniT21 that screened for the same things as the Amnio and CVS. Call me crazy, but blood drawn compared to either a massive needle in my side (near the baby) or a part of my cervix removed seems to be the optimal choice.

Considering our low risk label for the babe, our blood work on the good and the facial expression from the Doctor that basically said "Fuck it"... we feel comfortable moving onward and upward. The last thing we need to do is put ourselves through more testing than necessary. Onward to the second trimester!!

xoxoxo

Sweet Dreams Are Made of This....

They say you have strange dreams while being pregnant. Here are some dreams/nightmares I've endured throughout the first trimester of my pregnancy:


*
In an urban hospital somewhere on a sunny day, Joe and I race to the hospital and I give birth to a baby girl. Immediately, the infant is rushed out to the maternity wing but the hospital is like a city itself, almost like a mall with no clear directions, multiple stairs, hallways, elevators and no one around to assist you. Joe and I frantically start running to find her (I in my gown, just given birth) and cannot find the maternity wing. Joe become distracted with a loud roar from an audience and finds a door to a theater that is showing The Letterman Show and decides to pop in to watch. I take off furious, alone, frantic in search of our child.... and then wake up.

*
I was attempting to sit on a park bench one nice sunny day. My stomach had grown quite large. Unfortunately, so did my ass and I couldn't sit down. I was quite upset.

*
A Hearing, non ASL fluent person tried telling me that I should not use ASL (an actual language) to teach my infant language but should use Baby Sign Language (not a language) and I flipped out. Who that person was has yet to be identified.

*
Joe and I were dressed up to try out a new restaurant. He had a dark suit on, blue shirt, light blue tie on. I had a white sleeveless top, zipped up the back, white cardigan with pearl like buttons and a knee length black layered skirt, black stockings and black heels. While waiting in line for our reservations, a woman (who resembled a contestant from last seasons The Taste) approached me and lifted up the back of my skirt. I turned around and grabbed her by her shoulders and shoved her as hard as I possible could. Naturally, this would cause a stir, but it didn't. People carried on. I told Joe who didn't bat an eyelash that I was going to walk away. Upon returning a short time after, he's gone. He's not at a table. Fidgeting with my phone which wasn't operating properly, I find a text from him that since he had a busy day, he wanted to stop at Verizon to upgrade our phones and that he would meet me home. Angry, alone and somehow now shoe less, I walked over to the bar area, sat down and ordered a drink and proceeded to light up a Marlboro Red cigarette I bummed from a guy who looked like Rodney Dangerfield in a hawaiian shirt.

*

Running through a field, sunny day, tall grass and flowers being chased by a lion. The lion, who thankfully turned out to be friendly.. pounced on me and just hugged me. I was terrified but safe.

*

I can't remember details of this dream but it was something similar to the movie Aliens when the creature came out of the stomach through the clothes. I'm kind of glad I don't remember much of this.

*

Stay tuned for more! (I am bracing myself) Sweet dreams! zzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

Fly Your Plane and Never Trust a Fart... Words of Wisdom....

One thing I've noticed is that when you divulge to any woman, regardless if it is a friend, family member, neighbor, acquaintance, random woman in the check out line that you are pregnant it is customary for any woman who has a child (albeit born to them, via surrogate, adoption, etc) to give you ample advice and warnings while telling their "How I became a Mother" story. It's almost like having conceived life and the impending motherhood label I will be donning has automatically enrolled me in an elite club, where membership is really the ultimate sacrifice of you body, time, shoe budget and single social life... and the rewards, seeing a part of you, your heart brought into the world encased with a love indescribable.

The fortunate part of waiting until the (fabulous) age of 35 to get pregnant is that I have an abundant and overflowing pool of resources at a text message/call/Skype/Facebook message/Facetime chat or email away. Everyone has an opinion on everything and what makes it worse is that there is a book for everything, from every opinion on the spectrum.

My Aunt posted an article on my Facebook just today about just that. The New Yorker posted this blog :http://www.newyorker.com/online/blogs/shouts/2014/03/new-parenting-study-released.html

It discussed that "ape shit" feeling you can get from reading or being told by everyone from every direction what their opinion is, inundated with stories of their children and what you should or shouldn't be doing. I can see myself becoming mentally and emotionally unhinged at people dumping all sorts of unwarranted or unnecessary stories or words of advice in my face. I feel like I'm already swimming in the books I have scattered all over our house, each one marked to the spot I'm currently at, literally juggling 3 books at a time. So, in this exciting time, I bare in mind the need to "check myself"... seriously. I welcome advice, but I don't have to abide it. I have books but I can take it with a grain of salt. This is mine and Joe's journey as parents and no one can write a book or give you advice that compares to the actual experience.  

Which brings to mind probably the most sound advice I have gotten so far and the 2 phrases that I will hold close to my heart during this adventure provided by a dear friend over breakfast the other morning. "Michele, You gotta fly your plane" ... which was in reference to staying the course, focusing on "the task at hand" and not being distracted by what is going on around me or by other people...... and the most eloquent yet sound advice yet... "Never trust a fart"... because anything with the word "fart"... is just funny, I don't care who you are.

Next up! Nuchal testing/sonogram on April 2nd!

Meeting Doctor Wallis

3/14/14

First thing on the morning of 2/20, Joe and I began the process of arranging appointments with an OBGYN. This wasn't as easy as it should have been.......

Being self employed and living with and now having a "baby daddy" as an insurance broker has it's perks. One, I don't have to decipher whatever language they use to describe to me in eight paragraphs what could efficiently be said in one what my insurance covers or does not. I also can rely on him, he is my broker after all, to handle any issues I have.

Well, going on the Health Exchange (aka Obamacare) was something we did. It made sense to us. In fact, my premiums went up only a smidge and in fact, I now have the Cadillac of plans. The only problem is, my previous Gyno and many others weren't not taking it. After the 3rd phone call with yet another dead end, I gave the phone to Joe, red faced with the promise that if I had to deal with one more jackass on the line, my hand was going to somehow make it's way through the air waves of the phone and choke out the next asshole who said they would not take my insurance. I'm sorry but here's my rant: How is it legal for doctors or health care providers to deny coverage that is mandated by the government? It's criminal. I pay a premium. Provide the fucking coverage so I can get health care. That's what this whole thing is about, isn't it? The government is more concerned about my coverage than the actual health care industry!?!? Ok, rant over.

Joe, in his Insurance sponsored shining armor, finally found us a doctors group aligned with both University Hospital and Crouse Hospital and we were booked with Dr. Jodi Wallis for Friday 3/14 at 10:00am.

After what felt like an eternity the day of the appointment arrives. As excited as a child on Christmas morning, I was up at 5:30am (as usual these days). I asked Joe that we arrive a bit earlier than our 10:00am appointment because a) I don't do 'on time', I like to be early (and will enjoy that lifestyle until the child is born, thank you very much) and b) I knew we would have paperwork to fill out.

Now, in my entire lifetime I have never used a male Gyno. No disrespect but to me, a male Gyno is like an ASL Interpreter without hands. Sure, you know how the language works and might be very knowledgeable in your field.. but you don't have the equipment to really really know how it all works. Unfortunately this practice is not an all female staff, but since my initial appointment is with Jodi, I will attempt to be as flexible and open (pun not intended) to whomever can provide the best care that me and my growing baby needs.

That being said.....

Joe and I check in with the receptionist and am sitting in the waiting room, perusing the coffee tables littered with Parenting and Pregnancy magazines. Joe, being familiar with my preference for female doctors looks up at a much older gentleman walking out of the back hallway towards the receptionist and whispers to me "I think that's Doctor LongFingers" to which I erupted in laughter. Naturally, the other patients waiting, reception AND the Doctor all look in our direction and while I'm losing it, Joe is as composed as ever, magazine in hand as if nothing is happening. I smack his arm and say through clenched teeth "Oh my GOD! Now that you said that...... if he happens to be the doctor on call on D Day (Delivery Day) our child will be forever delivered by Dr.LongFingers!!!!!"

After what felt like eternity Joe and I are called into the sonogram room (if that is what it is called). To this point, besides the 3 pregnancy tests and my physical symptoms there was no real "evidence" of new life growing inside me. It was almost as if the sono could happen and someone could yell "Oops! False alarm! Go back to life as you knew it, have a nice day!!". Instead what we saw was the perfect little (as the technician stated) "Gummy Bear" of a figure on the screen with the teeniest and slightest pulsing of heartbeat. Now, I had some ideas about how I would react while having this test done. I mean, there's nothing glamorous about it. I'm on bed, half naked with a scratchy piece of paper over my legs and my socks showing with a plastic covered wand device up there..... while Joe is sitting casually in the chair next to me like he's about to whip out the daily paper and a woman I have never met is telling me all the body parts of a being that happens to be inside me that I'm just getting accustomed to knowing is there. No book or persons narrative prepares you to how awesome of a moment that is... and yes, I did cry. How could you not. It's the "Holy shit I'm going to be a mother!" moment of all time.

Our meeting with the Doctor after went very well and I like her very much, THANK GOD. After a thorough exam (to Joe's relief I released him to the waiting room), questions, 9 vials of blood and a high 5 with the nurse as I left we learned that "officially" I was at 9 weeks and 3 days with an expected due date of October 14th, 2014 :) One appointment down, 576 to go.