Consistent Inconsistency

Well, the good news is that I am not supposed to be on an upped dosage of terbutaline. The bad news? Obviously some people are confused or don't know what is going on. So, I may or may not have had increased meds today...but I swear after my second round of meds this afternoon I felt like a caffeine virgin after an espresso party. And...my nurse told me that I was taking an upped dose and that she had double checked that I had a change order for it. So, I am lead to believe that I did have the upped dose at least once, if not twice, today. Interesting, right?

Well, my night shift nurse is on top of it and says that it ISN'T the case that I should be on the additional 2.5mg. She triple checked...which is better than double checking, apparently. She isn't sure what happened, and she wanted to know if I wanted to file an "incident report". Well, I don't. I am not that person. I just want everyone to be on the same page moving forward, and I want to know that I am getting the right meds in the right amount at the right time. That isn't asking for a lot, right?

I will sleep better tonight on the lesser dose, anyway. And, regardless...the meds are allowing me to attend my baby shower tomorrow. Of course it will be in the conference room at the hospital. And, I will be in a wheelchair. But, nontheless...I will be there.

That is the update. Can't wait to see what tomorrow brings!

Jerks...

They apparently decided to re-up my dosage of terbutaline today, but they also apparently forgot to mention it until this afternoon! Jerks. I haven't seen the doc on rounds yet today, but my nurse this morning could have said something. I swore I was taking more. I usually take a half of a pill, and I was pretty sure that I took a full pill this morning. Thankfully my nurse for the afternoon recognized the change order and told me. I knew I felt "crazier" than normal. The higher dosage of terbutaline causes a lot of unpleasant side effects: shakes, tremors, increased pulse, more rapid breathing, anxiety...you name it.

My best guess is that they took a disliking to the fact that I was still contracting quite a bit during my monitoring sessions. Yesterday morning I had at least 5 regular contractions, in addition to the the normal "uterine irritability" that I display. I had at least 3 regular contractions along with the irritability last night. These two sessions must have translated themselves into more drugs. Booo!

Outside of just blogging to complain, I suppose I could mention one good note: I got moved into a fully private room this afternoon. I will not have a roommate again during my stay on the antepartum unit. Thankfreakingoodness!!! I am not sure that the private room makes up for the "secret" increase in drugs...but it does help make me a bit less angry of a patient.

A bit...

Belly Shot Chronicles...from the hospital - 35 Weeks 1 Day

So, I said that this would not happen...but I guess I lied. Here I am posting belly shots at 35 weeks and 1 day. (My lovely was kind enough to bring the camera to the hospital and snap a couple of photos this afternoon. Nice husband!) 3 weeks have passed since you last saw the belly, so there should definetly be a noticeable change this time around. Oddly enough, though, my weight remains pretty much unchanged. I still hover around a weight gain total of 18 pounds at this point. Strange, but I am not complaining. The less I put on, the less I have to take off.

Nothing much has changed in the last few days. I still sit here in my hospital prison, eating my hospital food, chatting up my hospital friends (aka, nurses), doing my little hospital routines. I have had a roommate for the last few days, and that has been a challenge. I, of course, prefer my privacy. Who wouldn't, especially having been here so long? But, most roommates would probably be better than this one. She is young. She is white trash (no other nicer way to put this). Her husband and mother are loud and smell like cigarettes. And? My roommate is actually on the NICOTINE patch...because she hasn't had a cigarette since being admitted to the hospital. Did I mention that she is 37 weeks pregnant? WTF? Really, really classy. ugggggh!

The good news? I am pretty sure she is being discharged by tomorrow afternoon. I hope that happens! And, I also hope that I don't get another rooommate anytime soon.

Saturday is the day of my "local baby shower". It is now partially taking place in a conference room at the hospital so that I can be in attendance for an hour. Everyone loves a baby shower at the hospital, right? Well, if not...they will just have to suck it up this once. I am just happy to have something to look forward to and to help break up the monotony of my long prison sentence.

Enjoy the unexpected photos, and stay tuned to "baby watch"!

What day is this???

Really gets hard to tell when every day seems like the exact same one being lived over and over again. Such mundane routines that pass by over the course of 24 hours...the days just start to blend. Such is life in hospital prison, I guess.

I am pretty sure it is Sunday, so that much is good. For whatever reason. Not a whole lot has changed in the past few days. I have been on oral meds for contractions, but I have continued to have "breakthrough" episodes of contractions in pretty good patterns, so I also continued receiving injections of terbutaline (brethine) to stop them. Due to the fact that these episodes started coming more regularly, the docs have now put me on an oral dose of terbutaline so that I don't have to keep having shots, and so that they don't have to keep "chasing" the contractions.

Terbutaline is the devil. I must note this. It makes you feel like you drank a whole pot of coffee, when you normally consume no caffeine. Shakes, tremors, shortness of breath, rapid talking, etc. Not a good time! The doc agreed to lower me to the lowest dose possible to see if it would still be effective. Any relief I can get from feeling "freaky" is so worth it. Seems to be a bit better already, and only very random contractions today. No patterns! Yay!

They feel every day that Finnley stays in utero is a victory. I will continue to be on all meds until 36 weeks. That is another week and a half from now. If I do go into active labor that cannot be stopped, if I dilate to 5 or more centimeters, or if my membranes rupture...regardless of how far along I am, I will be "delivered" immediately. If none of those things happen, we will just wait and see what happens after 36 weeks. So, potentially going to be a long road here.

Right now I have had no further cervical changes, so the docs are happy. I remain at 3 to 4 cm (depending on the doc and the "fingers" being used...doc's words, not mine!).

The hospital is a bore. I am back to having a single room for the moment, and I suppose that really is a highlight. I feel much more sane not having to share like a college freshman in the dorms. Privacy is so taken for granted by most people!

For a sample of my day, peruse here:
4am - nurse wakes me up for oral terbutaline / vitals
6am - nurse wakes me up for oral procardia / vitals
7am - nurse shift change takes place
morning - monitoring of baby and myself takes place (fetal HR, contractions, etc)
8am - room service calls for me to order breakfast
9am - breakfast
10am - another dose of oral terbutaline / vitals
11am or after - on varying days...shower time or sink bath time / pretty self for day
11:30am - room service calls for me to order lunch
12pm - another dose of oral procardia / vitals
12:30pm - eat lunch
afternoon - try not to die of boredom (internet, reading, movies, TV, whatever)
4pm - another dose of oral terbutaline / vitals
4:30pm - room service calls for dinner order
5:30pm - dinner time
6pm - another dose of oral procardia / vitals
7pm - nurse shift change
evening - another hour on the monitors for baby HR / contractions / etc
evening - still trying not to die of boredom
10pm - another dose of oral terbutaline / vitals
12pm - nurse wakes me up to give me dose of oral procardia

AND SO ON...

Hospital Blues...

Well, life throws you curveballs when you least expect them. At least that is the case with me. And, we already chatted about my relationship with Murphy and his stinkin' laws...so no use dwelling on that one, either.

I am in the hospital. I went in to the OB's office on Tuesday because I had been having a lot of Braxton-Hicks contractions over the weekend. I would get temporary relief, but there were a lot of times when they would be coming in regular patterns every 1 to 5 minutes for over an hour or two. They wanted to see me, just in case, and do a non-stress test. No big deal. Finnley passed the test without issue. She is a trouper! I then met with the nurse. She, after hearing about the continued contractions, decided to do an internal exam. She "thought" that I had dilated to 2 to 3 cm, which would have been a one to two centimeter change since I had left the hospital. So...she called the OB and nurses on duty at the hospital, and they all agreed I should go over to triage to be montiored / evaluated. So, I did. The doc on duty agreed that I was dialted to 2 to 3 cm. They admitted me. Again. Uggh!

I was put on procardia to diminish contractions. I was also being administered terbutaline injections to stop stronger contractual patterns that broke through the other meds (which happened once a day and once a night, it seems). I was also given the steroid injections to help the baby's lung's mature IN CASE I go into active labor sooner rather than later. The goal was to at least get me the two injections and then move 24 hours beyond that point. That will be at 3:30pm today. Almost there!

At this point, I have dilated to closer to 4 centimeter...still NOT being in active labor. Given Finnley is not going to move from the Frank Breech position (her bottom is sitting way too low for her to be able to move), they feel I am too high risk to send home. I will be in the hospital for the remainder of my pregnancy, basically on bed rest. They will not stop active labor if it happens at this point, they will just take me in for a C-section immediately. If I DON'T go into active labor, then they will do the C-section at 37 weeks regardless. They will not let "us" go beyond that point. So, I could be in the hospital for up to 3 weeks prior to having this little miracle.

Not happy about that.

Miss my husband.

Miss my dog.

Keeping my eye on the prize, though...and since I can't fight the doctors...I guess I just have to make the "best of it". Whatever that might be.

No more belly photo updates. So sorry!!!

Stay tuned for everything else, though...enjoy the ride!

Happily Working my way back to Miserable

It is a sad thing to realize that being simply "miserable" isn't so bad afterall. I have had many complaints along my continued path to motherhood, but I don't think I have been whiney to this point. I am saying I don't think I have been. Who knows what other people think! I know that EVERY woman has been through a million and one "issues" during their pregnancy, but I am sure that each and every one of those women complained, too. They might not admit it now, but they did. Closet-pregnacy-misery-feelers...boo on you!!!

I have come to realize, though, that there ARE varying degrees of misery. And, as I stumble across and through each degree, I long to go backward in search of just a simple state of being miserable. I thought having SPD might be the death of me, but through chiropractic care I had learned to live through the pain with a smile on my face most days. I thought the persistet Braxton-Hicks contractions might just add enough needling discomfort to do me in, but nah...survived that, too. In the past two weeks, though, my world has flipped upside down, and I have been sucker punched at every crossroads. Today is the first day where I feel like maybe I am taking my first steps backward toward the state of just being simply miserable. I long to just complain about some back and pelvic pain, while wincing through my latest contraction.

Please bring back those "happy" days for me. Let me just be miserable...

An Update...Finally

So, I guess I lied when I said I would update you all "fully" on what transpired last week. Given some other "complications", I have been a bit maligned this week and have been unable to do much of anything. Finally, I am getting around to at least an update. Here we go.

Last Friday I woke up with some stabbing lower right abdominal pain followed by contractions that were coming very frequently and regularly. The pain would just not subside, and I was contracting at least every 5 minutes, so I called the emergency number as the office was closed due to the holiday weekend. The nurse I spoke with sent me straight to the hospital, so off we went. Upon arriving, I was sent to triage where I was asked to change into a gown, put on a belly band to hold the monitors in place, and was hooked up to an IV. They wanted to hydrate me first (and very quickly) to make sure that dehydration wasn't the cause of the contractions. (Which, it wasn't.) When first hooked up to the monitors, my contractions were coming every 5 minutes. Soon after, they were coming every two to three minutes. So, a series of tributaline injections were given to calm the contractions while I was checked and tested for being in pre-term labor. The internal exam was more than uncomfortable given the other stabbing abdominal pain I was having, but all tests showed that I was not in preterm labor. I was dilated 1 cm, but that was all...and the FN test came back negative.

So, I was moved to an L&D room for observation. Well, observation turned into a 3 night hospital stay. The contractions kept coming, and the pain didn't let up until Monday. I was continually given shots of tributaline...and each day was then given a procardia tablet as well. Both kept the contractions to a minimum. They were able to rule out an appendicitis...thank god! And, they ruled out just about everything else. Their best guess? A possible GI viral infection. But really, they don't know anything.

An ultrasound in the antenatal unit proved quite interesting. The baby is still in the Frank Breech position (head up, butt down, feet and legs by the head). She is measuring a full two weeks ahead and already weighs approximately 5 lbs and 4 oz. Holy crap! Can you say C-section??? Oh, and almost forgot to mention...my cervix is shortened, too. Not sure by how much, but at this point in the pregnancy, the collective "they" are not worried about it. Ok.

Everything with the baby was more than ok while at the hospital. She continues to have a strong heartbeat, move regularly, have bouts of hiccups...and is just enjoying her uterusland surroundings. Good for her. At least someone is doing well and is happy!

So, coming home from the hospital was supposed to be a good thing. In and of itself, it was. However, all the meds (IV sedation, Percocet, Ambien, etc.) caused me to become constipated. This was not a big deal until after being released when my already pre-existing hemorrhoids decided to completely malfunction. I ended up in excruciating pain and had to call the colorectal surgeon's office on Tuesday morning. They saw me on an "emergency basis". I had at least 4 to 5 prolapsed hemorrhoids, and two of them were thrombosed (meaning they had painful clots formed in them). The doctor needed to surgically excise the clots, so I was given local anesthetic injections (OMG!)...and he went about his cutting. I could barely move off the table, let alone drive myself home. I called my husband to keep him on the phone with me to make sure that I could even get the car out of the parking lot. I managed. Somehow.

After coming home, things continued to go downhill. My body was / is still trying to find a way to re-regulate my GI system. "Going to the bathroom" 5 times in two days did not help me at all as far as trying to heal from my procedure. I was supposed to leave the bandages on for 24 hours...but that just couldn't happen. Nature had other ideas. So, I did my best just to survive and function at all. Matt helped me dress. I slept on the couch for two nights. I took sitz baths 3 to 4 times a day. I cried. I barely moved. Ugggh!

I did have to venture out yesterday to a follow up OB appointment. Let's just say getting into and out of the car wasn't the least bit attractive. I was an invalid. The docs wanted to see me, though, since leaving the hospital and because I had missed my 32 week appt. So, as painful as it was...I made it out. The OB could tell how miserable I was, so after hearing my story, he prescribed me Darvocet to help ease the pain. It is helping take the edge off. I am just starting to feel a bit better, but I still have no desire to go anywhere or do anything. I don't think I will until next week, perhaps.

The OB appointment was fine. I have gained 1.5 lbs in 4.5 weeks. Not my fault. The hospital stay and after issues did not assist in my weight gain efforts. Finnley continues to take what she needs, though. So, in total...my weight gain stands at 18 pounds. Finnley also continues to remain breech, and the OB mentioned that if she is still persistent in her positioning by my next visit in two weeks...they will be talking about scheduling me for a C-section. Stubborn little girl! After all of my "issues", though...a C-section sounds pretty good to me. I am not sure my bottom could handle all the pushing! Yikes!

Anyway...that is the current situation. That is your update. Perhaps too much information? Too bad. I am suffering through it all, so you might as well all know about it. Pregnancy is not always pretty or fun. It can also suck really really bad sometimes. I will keep my eye on the prize, though, and continue to remain confident that it WILL ALL BE WORTH IT! It will, right??? Right???

Note: sorry, but the 33 week belly shot is not going to happen. I was / am in too much pain to bother with it, and now Matt is off to OH for the weekend with the camera in tow. I will update with the 34 week shot next Wednesday, though. promise.

MIA

Sorry for the prolonged absence. I "decided" to spend the entire holiday weekend in the hospital. Finally just got released and came home just this evening. Desperately need to shower and spend time with my boys, so I will update you all fully tomorrow.

Thanks for all the support from family and friends! It was much appreciated. And, all is well.

Question for the Day

If everyone keeps telling me "how well I am carrying" or "how little I am for being 8 months pregnant"...then why do I FEEL so freakin' HUGE???

Just wondering.

Happy 4th of July weekend, everyone!

Belly Shot Chronicles - 32 Weeks

8 month marker! Wow...sort of frightening to think about how much time has passed AND how little time we have left to go. I have SOO much left to do to properly prepare to bring our little girl home. I am sure that the "nesting instinct" will help to take care of that in the coming weeks.

Finally a photo that I didn't take myself for the weekly update. My friend(s) might still complain that I don't have a head...but what do you expect? I just rolled out of bed. It isn't even 7am here. No head shot for you! Just enjoy the jolly belly, will ya? 32 weeks and growing...

The Generosity of Others

Hello! It's the husband writing today.

Megan and I are overwhelmed at the generosity of others as we near the birth of our daughter. Megan returned from Chicago on Sunday, and I was amazed at the amount of clothes, books, and necessities that her dear friends and family purchased for our family. I want to thank her Mom Judy and sister Erin for hosting a shower for Megs. I also want to thank Megan's G-Ma, who at 87 continues to knit and spoil grandkids beyond imagination. Thank you G-Ma! Bob and Judy have been so very helpful and generous with many wonderful spoils for Finnley including a beautiful crib that Finnley's cousins used, a pack-n-play, high chair, books, etc. etc. We are blessed. My brother Scott, sister in law Renata, and their boys have also gone above and beyond. Thanks to them, our little girl already has an amazing travel system, absolutely necessary Ohio State Buckeye gear for the upcoming season, and some Juicy Couture baby clothes that will make her the envy of every playpen out there! Finnley will also start out in a gorgeous antique bassinet with a great blanket that Mom and Dad Ritter brought out for us. It is the very bassinet that Finnley's Dad started out in. Thank you all very much for the generosity thus far. It is overwhelming and beyond expectation. We love and appreciate you all.

Of course generosity goes beyond the gifts. I also want to thank Tara, Kelly, Karen and Canella for just being there for Megs. Dear friends who continue to stand by one another as life just happens is one of the greatest gifts of all. Your friendship to Megan means as much to me as it does to her.

Of course we are just beginning. We have another shower here in Jersey at the end of July, with more friends and more fun. I can't wait to spend that day with the East Coast gang.

It has been a long road for Megan and I, but not a unique road by any stretch. In close to 50 days we will be blessed with a little girl and I, as her father, intend to tell her just how lucky she and her Mom and Dad are to have the love and support of family and friends. It is all of you that are helping us get Finnley off to a great start in life and for that, we say thank you and we love you.

Baby Shower and the Gas Station Cake

I'm back!

I successfully managed to fly my falling apart 31 week + pregnant body to and fro Chicago. No major issues. Lots of walking. Lots of stares. Lots of comments. Nothing detrimental. Not all bad!

It was really great to be "home" and see everyone that I haven't seen in a long time and have them at my shower. And, what about the shower? Well, I didn't receive a lot of items from my registries, so my lovely and I will be doing some shopping soon. Do not take this as a complaint, though, please...just as a simple statement...BECAUSE, we did receive a TON of great things, including a lot of clothing for Finnley. She will obviously need clothes, so those will come in handy. And, I will obviously be doing a lot of laundry in the coming weeks. We also received some very loving and thoughtful gifts: my christening blanket, my baby blanket, a baby album, a baby book, a handmade blanket, a handmade christening bonnet, two handmade christening gowns, and sooooo much more. Very special items for a very special little girl.

Oddly enough, I think the most interesting aspect of my party turned out to be the cake. I wanted cake. Basically mentioned that I must have it. My mom said that it would be there. And, well...it was. She commented to me that my sister had suggested that they could go to Super Walmart (the ultimate shopping mecca of the middle of absolutely nowhere) and order the cake. My mom's thoughts? Nope. No thank you. Walmart is NOT good enough for MY little girl and her momentous baby shower. So, my mom's idea? Let's get the cake from the GAS STATION! Everyone knows great cakes are all imagined and brought to life at gas stations, right? Um...uh-huh! I wish I was kidding about this, but I am not. My cake came from the Donut Emporium, which is located inside the BP Amoco gas station in Plano, IL. Oh. My. God! Well, there is a first time for everything...and life is full of experience and experiments. I can add this one to my "done" list.

So, how was the cake? I am not sure that it was better than a Super Walmart cake. I am certain it was no worse. It had cakey qualities. It had filling. It had frosting. It was too sweet, which ALL bakery cakes seem to be. It was...well, cake.

My mom is certain to read this post and shake her head while doing so. She has heard me tell the story of my baby shower cake a hundred times now. Over the course of two short days. But, really, it just had to be in print. Who else will have such a tale to tell of their baby shower cake? And...the story, to me, will never get old.

Thanks for the shower, mom and Erin. And, thanks for my gas station cake.

The fat lady working the baby showerThe fat lady and her nephew PaxonThe fat lady and G-ma

Belly Shot Chronicles - 31 Weeks

Another week down. Another week closer. I love it!

This week I am delighting you with not just a belly shot, but also a "shot from behind". As you are probably aware, every once in awhile I sneak some other form of crappy photo in, and I surely hope you enjoy it! This week you get the pleasure of viewing the tattoo. Fun, right!

Still growing. All is as it all should be.

Note: Almost forgot to mention, but I am flying back "home" to Chicago tomorrow. My mom and sister are hosting my baby shower on Saturday. So, if the blog isn't updated as much as it usually is...that is because I am basking in the heat and humidity of the IL plains. I will return on Sunday.

Labor Basics and the New Philosophy

I willingly, albeit sadly, bow down to my lovely. You were right. You are right. You will always be right. How could I ever doubt you? I mean, really?

Labor Basics class sucked. We don't need no stinkin' labor basics class!

I signed up for both my breastfeeding class and the labor basics class with the hope that they would inform me and better prepare me for those scary and miraculous days yet to come. The breastfeeding class lived up to every expectation I had, and I was not disappointed in the least. The instructor was not a breastfeeding Nazi, but she certainly did shed light on all of the different aspects of feeding baby: the how to's and whys of it all...what can go wrong and why it will and how to fix it...and so much more. She was a consummate professional, and I give her a ton of credit. Job well done. Even the husbands (you know, the ones who actually attended) thought the class was nothing short of excellent.

Moving on to Labor Basics. I forced my husband to go. I did. You don't want to go to the wonderful and awe-inspiring breastfeeding class? Fine! But...you ARE going to Labor Basics, damn it! Well, might as well have just opened up my mouth and started chewing on my foot right then and there instead of being the pressurizing wifey that I was.

Did I mention that the Labor Basics class sucked???

First off, our L&D nurse / instructor apparently is not capable of separating her personal from her professional life. Quite a liability if you ask me. She started off class complaining about a fight (regarding some baseball game or championship) that she had gotten into with her oldest son. This spawned itself into a rant about arguing with children and how miserable children can be...really, we should just wait...but, alas, we will all know soon enough! Ummm...nice way to pump up a class of first time expectant parents. You know, make us feel all warm and fuzzy inside about the journey upon which we are about to embark. I could just feel the heat coming off of my spouse as he was trying to use his mind to cause this woman to spontaneously combust so he would not have to listen to another minute of her. No such luck. He hasn't honed in on that particular power just yet. Damn it!

About 10 minutes into the class (which was just text being read verbatim off of a projected computer screen, which was also text that was taken verbatim from the booklets sitting in front of us, all of which was apparently text taken verbatim from the video that we had to watch at the very end) this nurse / instructor abrubtly stopped and said, "excuse me...I need to take five"...and she rushed out of the room. We just sat there frozen. We thought, maybe she was sick? Or really had to pee? Or, perhaps she had a female emergency? Well, no...those would have all actually been perfectly justifiable reasons for pardoning herself from a class for which we spent $70 and for which we gave up our evenings. Her reason? The thought of what was going on with her son overwhelmed her / got the better of her / caused her to have a mini-meltdown, and she needed a break. Great. Did I mention that she works in L&D at the hospital where we are going to be delivering??? I hope she is NOT my nurse, and if she is, I hope to catch her on a GOOD DAY!!! My god!!!

No point in going on any further about the class. We learned nothing. It really was labor BASICS (thank goodness, though, for the girl with the 12 year old's mentality sitting next to me who I am not even sure if she is aware of how she became pregnant in the first place let alone knows anything about being pregnant or labor and delivery!). So, guaranteed, I know my lovely will NOT be back for round 2 on Wednesday night where epidurals, C-sections, and post-partum depression will be discussed. I am also pretty sure that the wife of lovely will be skipping class as well.

I think I have come to the conclusion that adopting the "just wing it" philosophy from my husband is the best course of action. Why not? Really, he has a point. Professionals will be there every step of the way: directing us to the right floor of the hospital, telling us when I am in active labor, telling us what to do at every stage of labor, telling me when to breathe and push, telling my husband when to be in the way or when to get out of it. No one is going to leave us alone to do this on our own. And, no one can really predict how our labor and delivery will play out. No amount of preparation can prepare you for such an unknown scenario. And, from what EVERY mother out there tells me...absolutely NOTHING can prepare you for the pain that labor and delivery brings with it. It is far worse than anything you are capable of imagining. So, I am done.

Lovely? Are you listening? You win. Let's just be our natural excited adventursome selves sprinkeld with perhaps just a bit of well-balanced naivete'...and let's JUST WING IT!!!

Happy Father-to-be Day!

Today I just want to share with you all, once again, what a special person my husband is. He is a strong, confident, and funny man...a wonderful spouse...and I just know he is going to be an amazing daddy to our little girl. Batman already thinks he is the best daddy in the world, and for good reason. Dogs don't lie about feelings like that. Trust me.

The below tribute to my lovely is taken from the very first post I ever put on this blog. It was something I wrote and framed for him as a gift before we were even married. My feelings haven't changed, and I just want to honor my best friend on this special day. A short time ago we weren't sure that we would ever be lucky enough to "celebrate" holidays like this one, so it is certainly all the sweeter this year with our precious Finnley on the way.


Matt -

Thank you for continually speaking your mind and your heart - it melts me.
Thank you for loving me in a way that I have never experienced before and that I don't think I could ever experience with anyone else.
Thank you for being silly and for being serious.
Thank you for knowing exactly why I smile or giggle, even though I have not said a word.
Thank you for listening to me when I vent.
Thank you for laughing at me and poking fun at me when I pout or complain.
Thank you for having your eyes speak everything that my heart feels.
Thank you for just being in my life and for wanting me in yours.
I love you....

- Megan

A Vomitous String of Thoughts

I have nothing big to say, but lots of little things...so I thought I would just spew them out in bits. Here you go!

A scarily bright and shiny object appeared in the South Jersey sky this morning. I wasn't sure if I should fear this heady foreign blob or embrace it. I decided to just stare out the window and take in how it bounced off of the numerous puddles in the street. It didn't last long. Turns out there was nothing to fear. It disappeared so quickly. I wonder if I will ever see it again.

Little Miss Finnley had the hiccups this morning. At least I think she did. I had gotten up to pee at 5am (4th time since hitting the sheets last night), and when I layed back down, there was this persistent and consistent "thump" in my belly. It felt like a little kick but with not much behind it. And, it happened every 3 seconds or so...in perfect rhythm...and lasted about 5 minutes. During that time she had two very funny episodes of spastic random activity. Interesting.

Outside of the apparent hiccup episode, Miss Finnely also did something else new and interesting. I think her movements are just becoming more constricted but more pronounced. It felt like someone had a rolling pin pushing and moving across my innards on the right hand side of my upper uterus. Then, all of a sudden...SUCKER PUNCH! It really was the strangest sensation. I just hope she is amusing herself in there.

I am again going to play "single" mom at my breastfeeding class this evening. My lovely is so stinkin' proud of himself for NOT going. I must take one for the team, though, and go. I really would like to learn something about my growing milk cache and how it can potentially be put to good use after the baby arrives. Any information will certainly arm me with more than I currently have, so it can't hurt, right?

Some people tell me that I am "nesting" because of the work that I have been doing in Finnley's nursery. Nesting? I don't know if I would call it that. I really would call it my already obsessive-compulsive need to organize EVERYTHING in my life and my house simply spilling over into another room of our dwelling. Things need a place. The open floor is not a good place, in my opinion. So, we now have canvas boxes and bins and storage thingys-galore. Hooray! It was a necessity given my upcoming baby shower in Chicago next weekend. There will now be a GOOD place to put things when I somehow manage to get them home.

Lastly, I am just gearing up for Father's Day weekend. My lovely and I will be in the VIP box at the Jimmy Buffett concert on Saturday night...very fun! My lovely might also be attending the US Open on Saturday morning / afternoon. Too long of a drive for me given that the chance of rain is 50 to 70% the ENTIRE day. I will pass and stay home for that. Who knows what Sunday will bring. Lots to be thankful for this Father's Day, though. I know that much for sure.

So, that is my diatribe for the day.

Belly Shot Chronicles - 30 Weeks!

Holy Crap! I cannot believe that I am 30 weeks. That just feels like another important milestone. It was certainly a big deal moving into the third trimester, but hitting 30 weeks really makes it feel like we are narrowing in on the home stretch. NOT narrowing in is my abundant belly. As you can certainly see...even through the grainy photography. Such is the life of a pregnant chick!

Pregnant Air Travel Haiku

Flying while preggo.
Airline to worry? Hell yeah!!!
Fear is good for them.


I am sure to be a bit nervous, too...but worrying never helped anything did it?? Nah. Or is it that worrying ALWAYS HELPS EVERYTHING?? I always get those things confused! So, I am just going to get on that big old plane a week from this Thursday and fly my semi-firm yet rotund ass back on home to Chicago to see my family and friends. It would be rude for me to miss my own baby shower, wouldn't it? Even if I am going to be flying while 31 weeks-scarily-pregnant? Indeed. It would be rude. Life is all about challenge, experience, and perseverance...right? I am sure to take in all three during my adventure. Get me to that party, bring on the games that everyone loathes, and...most importantly...just be sure to feed the fat lady in the corner some cake!

Note: Below is my mother's response to this particular post. Clarifying? Yes. However, she does fail to realize that at least half of the flight attendants are gay men...and I doubt many have delivered their own baby. With that being said...I am letting her have a voice. Just for today.

#1 The fat lady better not be sitting in the corner. She needs to sit in the middle by all of her friends and gifts.

#2 There will be no games that everyone loathes. There will be no games. Period.

#3 Flight attendants have delivered babies before...or most have. Usually their own.

#4 Not only will there be cake (plenty for the fat lady) but there will be fruit, snacks and wine (but no wine for the fat lady!)

#5 If said fat lady wants to be picked up at the airport, she needs to get the pertinent information to those who would be willing to pick her up. (One of them willing even come to baggage claim and help with the fat lady's suitcase)

Murphy's Law

We have all heard of Murphy's Law. We all know that Murphy is out to screw us on a regular basis. I am one of his favorite "customers". So...I worry.

I worry that my husband has necessary business travel starting on August 11th. Originally this travel was supposed to start on August 17th...GULP! My lovely managed to get that backed up a week, at least. Granted, the travel is not THAT far away...as it will start in Philly, then head to Pittsburgh, and work its way back to South Jersey.

HOWEVER. I am due August 26th. And, being one of Murphy's favorite "customers", it really just sets me up to go into labor anytime beginning on August 11th...or during the remainder of my lovely's road trip. I can just see driving myself while in labor...fending off contractions while trying to steer somewhat within my own lane...all while desperately trying not to get pulled over as a possible DUI suspect...willing myself to the hospital in one piece...and calling my lovely to meet me there as soon as it is humanly possible.

The only things really working in our favor here are the fact that first time moms GENERALLY go into labor later rather than sooner in regards to their due dates. And, first time moms GENERALLY have a long labor.

Murphy could give a crap about first time mom generalities, though...

I already feel him stalking me from a not too distant location just waiting to pounce and make his blasted move. Damn that Murphy and his stinkin' law! I plan to show him up JUST this ONE time! I can resolve that to happen, right??? I guess we will know soon enough!

So, let me know if you see Murphy around. Just so I can be better prepared. By "prepared" I mean I can carry a big stick with me or something...you know...to beat the shit out of him and lay him up just until after my lovely returns home in August. Thank you in advance for your cooperation.

"Single" Mom

Today was the first of our big days to come...our hospital maternity tour. I have had this particular event scheduled for at least two months. They (you know, the ever elusive "they") mentioned that the tours fill up very quickly, so I wanted to make sure that we didn't miss out. The first time I scheduled the tour, my husband informed me that we couldn't go on the day I had chosen...that it conflicted with the already scheduled 50th anniversary party for my inlaws. Darn it, but...ok! The inlaws win (as they should)! So, I sheepishly called up the coordinator at the hospital to see if I could switch over to another date. No real big deal. Prior to doing this, though, I ran the next best available date of June 13th past my lovely. He checked his schedule and told me to go ahead and book it...no plans. Done! The coordinator helped me out, and we got it all squared away.

Move forward about one week. My lovely mentions to me that his annual national dealer meeting has been scheduled for the middle of June. When giving specifics...as you might have already guessed...the business trip was to fall over the weekend of June 13th. Uggh! Well, I couldn't change the tour date to August because it might be too late for a tour by then. And, I didn't want to change it to May because that was just too early. The lovely's brilliant suggestion? Go alone. Pretend that I am a single mother. And, go alone. To be certain, I would NOT be the only "single" mom attending the tour. There would be others. He assured me. He was very proud of himself for first weasling his way out of our upcoming breastfeeding class, and now here he was managing to escape the hospital tour as well. (shit-eating grin on his face all the while) FINE!!!

So, what did I do today? I sucked it up, put on my big-girl panties, and I went to the hospital as a "single" mom. And, to ease my worries about being the only one there without a mate...upon entering the waiting room I saw that there were several other people there by themselves, right? NO!!! I was THE only "single" mom there! Where were all of the irresponsible pregnant women who got knocked up without a life partner and had to attend these classes alone...or with a parent or friend instead??? Huh?? Huh?? They must have been hiding today because they certainly weren't in my group!

Don't worry about me, though. I was fine. I kept my chin held way up high over my burgeoning belly, and I walked those hospital floors like I owned the place. Or something like that.

To my husband's credit, I know that he was right in saying that he really and truly did NOT "need" to be there for the parade of preggos. That when I do happen to go into labor AND when he pulls up to the Emergency Room door AND when he marches his plump wife into the hospital AND when he tells whomever will listen that said plump wife is ready to have her baby...SOMEONE will surely point him in the right direction. He don't need no stinkin' tour!!!

So, my lovely...no tour for you. And, your "single" mom wife survived.

Simple note to the lovely, though:
YOU WILL BE GOING TO THE TWO LABOR BASICS CLASSES EVEN IF IT IS THE DEATH OF YOU!!! I SWEAR IT!!! I AM PREGNANT WOMAN!!! HEAR ME ROAR!!!