Ten (more) things you may not know about me

Maybe I'll make this a monthly feature on the blog - is it fun? Interesting? Self-indulgent? Whatever, it's connected me to people who I may not have ever known I had things in common with. Bonding over a shared hatred of sweet potatoes? That's serious stuff, people.

1. I've done a "secret Santa" gift exchange with the same girls for 10+ years. It's morphed into " secret seashell" because we now do it at be beach. We also have an email list serve that was started when we left for college. I couldn't begin to guess how many messages have been sent but I'd guess its in the tens of thousands.
2. My number one choice for pasta sauce is Alfredo. It's one of the only things Ben will not eat. I don't understand how anyone could hate something that's pretty much just cheese and heavy cream?!
3. I have (almost) matching scars on my elbows from surgeries that were four years apart. Ulnar nerve transpositions. I have no funny bone.
4. When I die, I want to be cremated, after medical science has taken anything they have any use for. I'm not yet sure where I want my ashes scattered.
5. My first plane ride was to Disney world with my whole family. Best fifth birthday ever!
6. I started walking at nine months. So, when London turned ten months without even a step, I felt a little bit guilty, like I had let her down as her mother. Don't worry, I realize that is 100% ridiculous and I'm just happy she's taken her first steps before she's two.
7. I had a fake ID in college that Ben referred to as a baseball card because it was SO fake. But I never got caught, even when I bought beer standing in line in front of a cop.
8. My favorite song will always and forever be "imagine" by John Lennon. My least favorite song is "amazing grace". "Celebrate" and "I like big butts" are also up there... Err, down there. As in,  hate them too.
9. I can cook but I cannot bake. I can probably count the number of things I've baked completely from scratch on two hands. I think it's the same reason I was good at biology but horrible at chemistry. I'm not good at exact sciences.
10. I have horrible bunions on both my feet. I know I need surgery, but I'm not, nor have I ever been, in a position to be off my feet for 4-6 weeks. I mean, who has time for that?!

Ten things you may not know about me

1. My best friend and I both started drinking coffee at 25. We also both had mono in the 10th grade. We've been through just about everything together, yet she still sends me thank you notes.

2. My husband and I both hate sweet potatoes, to the point that we won't even feed them to our daughter. My uncle guilted me into eating them when I was four and I threw up all over the thanksgiving table.

3. I've competed in cheerleading with a broken tailbone, and also with a dislocated elbow.

4. My first real experience with death was when my Sunday school teacher died of cancer - I was five. My father encouraged me to "go give her a kiss goodbye" and her cheek shocked me. After that I refused to attend funerals for about 10 years, and I'm still really freaked out by death and dead bodies especially.

5. My happy place is a toss-up between Round Pond, Maine, Bean Station, Tennessee or the beach with my best girlfriends and their husbands. I guess the common theme there is that I love to be by the water, even though I refuse any and all water sports.

6. I didn't turn 18 until I had completed nearly a full semester at college, because I never went to preschool and instead started kindergarten when I was four.

7. I've visited seven countries in ten years: Aruba, Bahamas (x2), Spain, Mexico (x2), Italy, England and France.

8. I wasn't allowed to listen to pop music until I was in junior high. We grew up on Christian music and oldies. To this day, I typically listen to one or both of those on long car trips by myself.

9. The first thing I ever cooked was macaroni and cheese from a box at age 8. I forgot to drain the water before adding the cheese. Luckily I've gotten better at following a recipe, because I love to cook.

10. I spend an embarrassing amount of time sitting in my car, drinking a large diet coke from McDonald's and playing Candy Crush while the baby naps. Those moments of silence are surprisingly refreshing.

Motherhood Confessions: I Love Breastfeeding

When I was pregnant, breastfeeding for me (like many women) was not even a question. I don't entirely know why, but it was one of the few aspects of baby-related care that I didn't even think twice about. Sure, I was worried that - for whatever reason - I wouldn't be able to do it, but I used the phrase "I'm planning to breastfeed" as a placeholder for "That kid will be on the boob the second she's born".

minutes after london claire was born.
literally, minutes.
amazing doesn't even begin to describe it.

My heart breaks for those that want so badly to breastfeed and can't, for a variety of reasons. I now know, thanks to the breastfeeding group I'm a part of, that there are many many factors that can prevent / inhibit the ability to breastfeed and my heart really goes out to you mamas who experience any / all of those. I truly admire your strength and tenacity to keep going, or to know when the right time is to seek other options.

We are so blessed that breastfeeding came relatively easy for both of us. There were days (still are!) that it hurt like hell. I've had to combat supply issues London's appetite with some herbal supplements and depleting my precious freezer stash. Getting a pumping schedule down when I returned to work wasn't exactly a walk in the park. But really, when I see what other women have gone through, we've gotten off easy.

Of course, I didn't know that would be the case going into it. Nor did I know half the battles that breastfeeding mothers face. So why was I so adamant about breastfeeding? After six eight* months and zero ounces of formula, I'll tell you why I think I made the right decision for my family, and why I'd happily make it again if we have another child.

*sidebar: how sad is it that I started this post TWO MONTHS AGO?!

So Why Do I Breastfeed?

• Intimacy It is instant, and consistent, bonding with your baby. They put London on my chest immediately after she was born. IMMEDIATELY. Cord still attached, covered in ... stuff ... naked as a little jaybird (the cutest little naked jaybird you ever did see, of course). They delivered her from my body, laid her on my chest and she was silent and calm. When I placed her near my breast she immediately knew what to do. And from that moment on, it has been a solace for both of us. It's a time that no one else gets to share, and it's so intimate that I feel the urge to just stroke her soft skin or kiss her hands & face constantly. 
• Comfort Those first few weeks when I was exhausted and hormonal and had not a clue what I was doing, I could always count on the early morning nursing sessions to cheer me up (read: allow me the emotional release I needed to sob great big alligator tears onto my sweet baby's head). Holding that sweet tiny baby, watching her drift off to sleep "milk drunk" with a half smile, and knowing that you are sustaining that sweet life all by yourself - there is nothing like that feeling. I would just sit in the recliner and weep over how wonderful it was. Now that she's older, that intimacy continues, as she looks up at me and strokes my face or hair, like she's just making sure I'm still there. Heart. Melting. It's extremely calming for London as well. If she's hurt or sick (ie: just got a vaccination), or way over-tired, sometimes nursing is the only thing that calms her down.

milk drunk, sleepy smiles

• Weight Loss It is a great way to burn calories. Supposedly you burn an extra 500 calories a day while breastfeeding. Well, London takes 28oz of milk at daycare plus 3-4 nursing sessions, so by my logic, I'm burning like an extra 1,000 calories. At least I eat like I am. I eat more than I ever have in my life, and I'm 12 pounds lighter than before I got pregnant. Did I mention I have not worked out one bit since the baby was born? I was more active at 9+ months pregnant than I am now. And yet all my pants are too big! Of course the downside of this is that when I stop breastfeeding, it's all going to pile back on. Which is why I'm just planning to nurse her through college.
• Cost It's free! A girlfriend of mine had to stop breastfeeding around 6 weeks and she said she spends about $50 a week in formula. That means, to date, I've saved my family nearly $2,000 by breastfeeding. My breast pump was a gift from my very generous mother, so if you tally up the costs of freezer bags, breast pads, and other nursing accoutrements, it's probably less than $100 total. That is insane.
  
  Unrelated to breastfeeding, but we didn't have to buy diapers until London was six months old, thanks to the generosity of friends and family. Needless to say, this having-a-kid thing has been pretty inexpensive so far. You know, minus that whole daycare-payment-that's-the-size-of-a-mortgage thing.
  
• Convenience I always have London's food with me. It's always ready to go. No heating water, pre-distributing formula powder into tiny little tupperware and finding space for them in our already-too-full diaper bag. No worrying about throwing out a bottle if she doesn't drink it that day. I don't even know all the ins and outs to formula, but I am certain I would've forgotten to bring it somewhere about 4,506 times by now. Need proof? The other day, I forgot to bring bottles to daycare. You know, my child's sustenance that I work so hard each day to provide? Yeah. Left it in the fridge. Good work, mom. It's also way more convenient to travel while breastfeeding ... minus the part where they make you taste your breastmilk to prove it's not explosive. Yeahhhh that happened.
• Health Benefits I'm not a doctor, but I've had plenty of them tell me how good breastfeeding is for my baby. When she had her first ear infection and was so miserably sick, the pediatrician told me, as he was writing a prescription for an antibiotic and I was nursing my girl, "You're already doing the best thing you can for her". What an awesome reassurance! When she was pretty new, this article was shared with me and I've clung to some of the statistics like a life preserver when things got rough. My favorites? "By breastfeeding for at least three months, you have given your baby a 40% reduction in the risk of asthma if you have a family history of asthma" (which I do - both my brother and sister have it) and "By giving nothing but your breastmilk for the first four months, you have given your baby a strong protection against ear infections and respiratory tract diseases for a whole year". There are a ton of additional health benefits, a lot of which are cited in that article.

chubby baby arms from a healthy happy baby

• I'm Selfish Breastfeeding gives me and the baby an excuse to get away. When we're at a family gathering and things are just a little too loud and chaotic, we get to dart away to a quiet room and have time to decompress. If I want to steal her back from a well-meaning family member who's been holding her too long for my liking, I tell them she has to eat and no one (especially men) asks any questions. Even at work, I get to spend 30 minutes 3 times a day thinking about my baby. Especially when the baby is tiny, people want to hold him / her constantly and it can be a nice break for the new mother for awhile. But then, it's like "Hey, that's my kid, give it back" and breastfeeding totally gives you the right to do that. 

I hope this can be an inspiration to future mothers - I'm happy to talk about the benefits of breastfeeding and the challenges and joys you might face. I also have a great group of women in the Triangle who meet as a breastfeeding support group, if anyone is interested.

the sweetest moments are when she falls asleep in my arms
skin to skin
each time it happens, I worry it could be the last
so I hold her for just a few minutes longer than I should.

I'm sure there are thousands of other reasons that I, or billions of other women, breastfeed. What are some of your favorite reasons?

And for moms who choose formula, I'd love to know your reasons for making that decision! I know it's not always a choice, but I also know that some women are just as adamant about NOT breastfeeding as I was about doing it - so if you're one of those women, please chime in and educate me!

Motherhood Confessions: Sometimes Marriage is Scary

Maybe it'd be better to say "Sometimes LOVE is Scary". I think you can have a real, earth-shattering, life-changing love without being married. But, and I'm sorry if this offends anyone, things change when you get married. Shit gets real.

Let me start by saying I have never EVER, even for one minute, had even one ounce of worry that my husband would ever EVER cheat on me. Ever. Can I say it one more time? 

EVER. 

He is the most loyal human being on the planet. He worships me like a queen, physically and, lately, emotionally as well. When we first were introduced by my cousin, he told me, "Ben is a walking Valentine's Day card". All that aside, when I hear about friends or acquaintances or even bloggers I follow who are dealing with infidelity, it makes me sick to my stomach. It's like a punch in the gut - not because it makes me worry for my own marriage, but because I cannot even fathom what they must be going through. And then, it's like a slap in the face, because I realize I should be thanking God, and my husband, every. freaking. day. for the peace of knowing that will never be us.

But I don't spend every day grateful for this peace. I take advantage of it, just like I've taken advantage of my marriage. I think, deep down, everyone can say that at some point, they became complacent in their marriage. It's easier than we'd like to admit. Life gets in the way, jobs, social lives, friends, family, kids [especially kids!]. We take advantage of the fact that our spouse will always be there 'till death do us part. It's normal, I think. Sad, but normal. 

However, I'm quickly learning that part of what makes a truly successful marriage, one that will one day celebrate a 50th wedding anniversary [and do it happily!], is how we react to these little valleys over the years. And that starts, I think, with admitting it's happening. Admission of guilt, fault, whatever you want to call it. Coming to grips with yourself, and your spouse, that you're not giving your marriage 100%. That is scary. And that's not fair to either of you, and you don't want to do it anymore. And then finding ways to fix it, before it's too far broken. 

I'm not pretending I'm a marriage or relationship expert. I'm not pretending my marriage is perfect. It's far from it, in fact. But I'm hoping this will be a gut check for me now, and down the road. I think marriage, like all relationships, go through seasons. I have always been in love with my husband, and always will be. Part of being in love - to me - means figuring out what the other person needs during that season, and being with them. Not "there for them" or whatever people say during a hard time. But really being WITH them during whatever they're going through. Going through it together. Being what they need most from the person closest to them. Figuring out together how to overcome and be stronger on the other side AS A COUPLE.

Being new parents has definitely brought on a new season to our marriage, but I am taking this moment to realize how incredibly grateful I am that my husband loves me enough to prioritize me, and our marriage, above all else. And I only hope that I can bless him with the same peace he has given me. But I'm confident, in the same way that I'm confident it was God who handpicked us for each other, that HE will lead us through to be stronger on the other side, and show us how to be the spouses that each other needs. It's really not anything that I'm going through or that Ben is going through, because we are a couple, a unit, that God has brought together. Stronger together than we could ever hope to be on our own, Amen?

Matthew 19:6 "So they are no longer two, but one. Therefore what God has joined together, let man not separate."

Motherhood Confessions: I am not afraid. I was born to do this.

I read that quote on Momastery this morning and it hit me like a ton of bricks. Supposedly Joan of Arc said it. Who knows if she really did. Who cares. It is, or should be, true for any one of us at some point (and hopefully multiple points) of our lives.

I am not afraid.

I was afraid. I got sick to my stomach and shaky every time I talked about quitting my job. I asked my best friend if perhaps I was making the wrong decision. She told me what I already knew - that only I could decide that. But that if I felt it was the right decision, it would become the right decision. And when I finally did it, I started to realize that I wasn't quitting my job. That's not what this is about. It's about choosing to stay home with my daughter. My precious gift from God who is changing by the minute. It's about accepting the gift my husband is giving me. The opportunity to focus 100% of my time and energy on our child and our home and things that make me happy if I can find the time for them, free of guilt for the fact that I'm no longer contributing financially to our existence. I am not quitting. I am choosing a different path, and I am not afraid of it.

I was born to do this.

I always knew I wanted to be a mother. Always. Even when I saw my own mother screwing up, or when I felt like she wasn't being the kind of mother I saw on television, I loved who she was. I loved what she did for us. I understood, at nine years old, the sacrifices she made to give me and sister a better life. She gave away the life she knew to save us. That is being a mother in the most raw sense. Sacrificing yourself, for your children. And while it's easy to see this decision to stay home as a selfish one, it's a sacrifice for me to care for London. I will be giving up a lifestyle I've gotten very accustomed to - eating out whenever we choose, going out for drinks, shopping, traveling, setting a budget but never adhering to it. I will be losing a part of myself socially and emotionally, through I'll try to find new ways to augment those and other portions of myself in my new life. But I am so happy to do it. Thrilled, in fact. Because I was born to do this. I was born to be a mother. London's mother. And hopefully, someday, someone else's mother, too. But for now, this is what I was born to do.

I am not a talented musician but if I was, I'd find a way to express my thanks for this new chapter in a beautiful song. For my husband, and for God, and for London. Ever since I made the decision to leave my job and stay at home with my girl, it feels like the chains around my body, especially my heart, have been broken and my heart is singing for joy. 

I am not afraid. I was born to do this. I hope you find what you were born to do. And I hope, when you find it, you are not afraid. Because there is no greater blessing than being who you are, and doing what you were born to do.

Motherhood Confessions: I hate Sunday nights

(It's funny, because I started this post several weeks ago and I never finished it. Never finished, because I was too busy trying to juggle. My life was, and still is a circus. I don't have delusions of grandeur that I'm going to wake up on March 1 and my life will magically be in order, but I do know this: On January 29, I felt my entire body sigh with relief. And while I know not all of my problems will be solved on March 1, it's the first day of a new chapter in my life. A chapter I'm pretty darn excited about.)

Sunday nights are pretty much my least favorite part of the week. Most of you would probably argue that Monday mornings are far worse than Sunday nights, but hear me out.

Sunday night means the house is never as clean as I want it be to start the week, I've never done as many chores or run as many errands or thought of anything to have for dinner for the week. I'm always too tired to be starting a new week. And London is too tired from a busy weekend that I have no choice but to put her to bed on time, when all I'd rather be doing is snuggling on the couch as a family of three and letting her fall asleep nuzzled in between us.

On Sunday nights, I have nothing to look forward to besides the start of the work week. The start of the work week means dropping my precious baby off at school and watching my husband walk the three blocks to his office. In a matter of moments, the two people I love most separate, and I feel like my heart is being ripped into a million pieces with each block I drive from them.

Sunday nights seem to be a culmination of how much I don't have it together. How I thought by now, this many months in, that I would have it under control. That things would be manageable. And instead, I feel so overwhelmed that I hide in the solace of a dark beer and catching up on DVRed shows. Because I treat irresponsibility and chaos with more irresponsibility and chaos.

If you're one of those people who sees Sunday night as an exciting time, a fresh start to a new work week, the end of good times over two days off - how do you do it? How do you find the silver lining? Because I'm sort-of at a loss right now, and the pit in my stomach grows, week over week, to the point that people might start thinking I'm pregnant again.

"How's she sleeping?" Part One

As far as major life events go, the knee-jerk reactions are as follows:

• Engagement: Have you set a date?
• Wedding: When are you going to have kids?
• Pregnancy: How are you feeling?
• New Baby: How's she sleeping?

Why is this the question that everyone asks a new parent? The answer can really only go one of two ways. Either the new parent says "s/he is sleeping great, we are so lucky!" and then everyone wants to punch them in the face for all the sleepless nights they had with their own child, or the new parent says "s/he is not sleeping and we are zombies and OMG why do people have babies?!" ... or something along those lines.

Because, really, what new parent ever feels they are sleeping enough? I don't know adults without kids who are sleeping enough. But I tell you this, adults friends without kids, if you think you're tired now ...

JUST WAIT.

Just wait until it's been three months and you haven't slept in longer than 3 hour increments in the better part of a year*. Then you'll know tired. When all you want for Christmas is a way to transfer coffee directly into your blood stream, then you know tired

*that's another subject altogether, but to all the jerks that say "sleep now, while you can!" to a pregnant women, you've obviously never known the joys of heartburn, peeing every 30 minutes, anxiety, nightmares, insomnia, chronic congestion, why is this pillow so hard, is he seriously snoring that loud, did we send Aunt Sally a thank you note and an 8 pound bowling ball with legs that's trying to break out through your lungs. and oh yeah now you have to pee again. go ahead, ask me if I miss being pregnant, I dare you.

The thing is, London was an amazing sleeper when she was tiny. She slept three hours straight the first night she was born, and at least that long every night thereafter. She was sleeping 5 hour stretches regularly at 5 weeks. She never missed a beat despite a transatlantic flight. Ben & I thought we were doing everything right - she was sleeping in her own crib from the night we brought her home! - and we actually talked about how easy this "parenting" thing was. Famous last words.

Then she hit 8 weeks and it all went to shit. No schedule. There were a few nights she was up every hour and a half, two if we were lucky. I remember one particularly trying moment when I was holding her in the recliner and Ben was laying on the floor of the nursery. It was about two in the morning, he was muttering something along the lines of, "What do we do?," while I googled, "How young is too young to cry it out?".

Those were desperate times. 

And of course, they coincided with the time that I was starting back to work, so I had approximately 300 people each day asking me if I was getting any sleep. Did the fact that I am double-fisting diet coke and iced coffee not clue you in to the fact that NO, I am not getting any sleep?!

Sometimes, as new parents, we smile and nod and say everything's great to avoid the unsolicited advice. But then, your resolve wears so thin that you start whining to anyone who will listen about how many times she was up last night (Five. Or was it six?) and next thing you know, you're in the pediatrician's office pleading with her to just let you get some sleep!

To be fair, by the time London hit 4 months, she was waking up twice most nights. To bed at 8pm, up at 1, up at 4, up for the day at 7am. This was pretty standard. And to many new parents, waking up only twice a night probably sounds like a dream. But when you're never getting more than 3 hours of sleep at a time, you're ready to fix it. Of course, the pediatrician told us what we already knew was the answer - those three dreaded words.

Cry. It. Out.

Ugh, makes me sick to my stomach just seeing them. Cry it out, or CIO as the cool kids say, is a super controversial topic (almost as much so as breastfeeding - another topic for another day). But we committed to it because we knew that teaching London to self soothe was the only way we'd ever get her sleeping through the night. I'd be lying if I said there weren't a few nights where Ben all-but had to restrain me in bed.

... to be continued

Letters to London: Sacrifice

Baby girl,

I should be writing my 38 week post (which I started yesterday, never got to, and now am too exhausted to write right now), but instead I'm writing this to you. Makes sense, I suppose, to prioritize a letter to my daughter over of a mundane weekly update. Pretty soon, I'll be prioritizing you over just about everything else!

As I will probably remind you, time and time again, you are the biggest blessing of our lives - one that we prayed many times over. But carrying you around for nine months has been no picnic, my friend. In fact, pregnancy has been much harder than I anticipated!

I knew that, what with my weak stomach, morning sickness would be tough, and likely something that would hit me hard ... and it did. I have a hard time swallowing the idea of going through those 2-3 months of vomiting again, but I think it's almost a blessing that no one knows you're going through the first trimester hell, because you have to keep going with your normal life to keep up the secret. And it's so exciting that some of that energy carries you through.

What I didn't anticipate was how hard this last trimester would be! More accurately, the last month or two. I found my "pregnancy stride" about midway through the second trimester, somewhere around the time that we found out you were a girl & picked your name, and shortly thereafter both started feeling you move. I wouldn't say I was enjoying pregnancy, but it wasn't bad!

That only lasted until halfway through the third trimester or so, when I started to get really uncomfortable. I've been carrying so high that the rib pain has been downright awful - I imagine it's you doing calf presses on them, trying to escape. No matter how many times I tell you it's the wrong way out, you haven't given it up yet or tried to start digging yourself out through the southern exit. Go towards the light! The rib pain turned into mid-back pain and my reflux has gotten so bad that I can't lay down. That's right, I sleep sitting straight up, and have even taken to doing so on the couch. Fun times! Yoga classes, chiropractor appointments, Pepcid AC, prenatal massages, walking, stretching ... I've tried everything and the pain and discomfort just keeps getting worse. I'm now dealing with shortness of breath, numbness in my arms and legs, lightheaded-ness, dizziness, nausea and vomiting, vaginal cramping, hip pain and stiffness. I'm gonna be honest, little one, you're kicking my butt over here!

I didn't intend for this to be a great big whine. What I intended this to be was a confession of how hard this is. I want you to know that last night, I finally lost it. For no reason, and for every reason, I broke down and sobbed great big alligator tears for thirty minutes straight. Your poor dad kept asking what was wrong, and when I didn't know, it only made me cry harder. And then this morning I cried on the phone with Gigi. And twice at work. And once tonight. I'm so physically and emotionally exhausted, I just can't control myself anymore. This weepy mess is NOT who your mama is!

And while I am so anxious to meet you and ready to stop being pregnant, I actually think most of these tears are disappointment and fear. Disappointment in myself, that I wasn't able to enjoy pregnancy more. That I find myself sometimes wishing it away. That I'm not able to better handle all of this. Fear that, if the last month of pregnancy is this hard on me, I'll never be able to make it through the labor experience I want for us. And that I'll never be able to survive the first few sleep-deprived weeks that you're here.

But I'm trying to cling to something that another woman said to me in my emotional state. This is the beginning of the sacrifice we, as mothers, make for our children. And I CAN do it, and I WILL do it, and one way or another you're going to be here in less than four weeks. Despite the fact that the days (oh who am I kidding - hours!) are crawling by now, it will be here before I know it.

And if there's one thing I do know, it's that meeting you will be worth all of this and anything else I could've possibly ever gone through to get here. Because you are our precious miracle, our gift from God. You were His first and He chose your dad and me to parent you. He wouldn't have chosen me as your mother if He didn't know I could get through this, so I'm going to try to keep trusting Him to carry me to that finish line.

But I swear, the first time you break curfew, I'll remind you of the pain I endured for you and give you the biggest guilt trip for putting your poor mother through all this! Just kidding ... all right, I'm probably not.

Are you ready yet? Because I sure am!
-Mom

35 week: addendum

I feel like everything that happened after my blog post yesterday warrants an additional update. Sorry for the boring baby posts lately, but I have been pretty unimpressed with my most recent new recipe adventures, so they're not going up on the blog. And the crafting has been seriously lacking - I'm the worst mom ever.

Anyway, a few highlights:

Follow-up Doctor Appointment
I had a check-up at my doctor's office yesterday as a follow-up to the hospital visit on Friday. Not sure why, because all they really told me is, "it's normal," (every pregnant woman's favorite phrase). But, since I was already in the office, the nurse checked my hemoglobin levels (They're only up from 11.3 to 11.5! I have to double my iron pills, boo!) and Dr. Munro did my Strep B test - which involves a long cotton swab in the hoohah and one in the butthole. Super fun. I mean, whatever, it's not the most uncomfortable thing that's happened to me since being pregnant, but it's ... uninvited ... to say the least. I guess they'll call me with the results or let me know at my next appointment, but if it's positive they'll run an antibiotic through my IV during delivery. As many as 1 in 4 women test positively for Strep B - typically, as carriers, adults exhibit no symptoms but it can be dangerous for the baby - so it's good that they're testing! Dr. Munro measured my fundal height, which they've done every appointment since we hit 30 weeks I think. Per usual, I'm sure I'm overreacting, but little London has me a little worried. Here's my concern:

Week   Measurement

30               31

32               32

 34             33'4

35               34

They normally don't get concerned as long as the measurement is within 2-3 cm of the gestational age, which she is, but the growth appears to be slowing. Dr. Munro acknowledged my concerns and said that if she's not continuing on-pace at the next appointment, she'll do an ultrasound - I love doctors who don't treat me like I'm crazy. I appreciate your prayers that our next appointment will reveal the monster is growing like she should be so mama can stop worrying about our peanut. She was a little concerned that the baby was transverse (meaning across my belly instead of head down like she should be) so she did a quick vaginal check - again, super fun. Like there's not enough going on in there! Good news is, London has remained head down, and my cervix is very soft. No dilation, no effacement, and the cervix is still posterior - so we are not worried about her coming any time soon! All in all, it was a fine appointment; though I'm a little disappointed that we don't go back for two more weeks, I guess it makes sense since there is no reason to worry about her coming early. Dr. Munro's only suggestion for my chest pressure / shortness of breath / other fun symptoms is to sleep sitting up. I tried propping my pillows up last night but didn't feel like it made a real difference.

End of Baby Classes
I could write a whole blog just about our birthing class, but I won't. Let me just say, if you are a first time parent, take the class. It covered everything from early labor symptoms to c-sections to bathing your baby and pretty much everything in between. I enjoyed most of the people in our class, and loved our teacher, and I am really really glad we took them. We're now totally qualified to have a baby! (kidding). Between those classes and the hospital visit, I think Ben & I are both way more prepared. I mean, as prepared as we can be, right? I think the biggest thing I took away from the class, aside from just overall education about the process, is the knowledge of our options and alternatives to help cope with labor pains. It's allowed us to have some difficult conversations and identify priorities, fears, preferences, etc. Three months ago, I would've asked for the epidural as soon as I walked in the door, but now I really feel like I know all the benefits and risks that come with a procedure of that nature and hopefully I'll be in a state of mind where I can make the best decision for me and London. I'm also asking for prayers about our whole birth process, that Ben & I will be able to work with the hospital staff to make informed decisions that will give us the best experience possible and - most importantly - result in a healthy baby and healthy mama.

I think that's all for now. Oh, two quick pregnancy confessions: I burned this in the crock pot last night and had a ham sandwich for lunch. Gigantic fail x2.

Baby Betting and a Bonus (Pregnancy Confessions: Volume Eight)

If you know my husband, you will not be surprised to learn that he's set up a gambling opportunity surrounding our daughter's birth.

http://babybookie.com/pools/90-london-s-baby-pool

You can guess her birth date and time, weight (lbs and oz) and length.

Half the winnings go to you, half go to her college fund. So basically, if you don't make a guess, you're saying you don't want my kid to go to college - that's pretty messed up.

(kidding)

If you don't want to put in the $5, feel free to make your guesses here - just for fun. You won't win anything, except for my admiration (especially if you predict that she's going to come before her due date - mama's not trying to be pregnant all summer, ya' heard?).

OK, that's all.

No wait, I lied. I promised a Pregnancy Confession. So here it is:

30 weeks, before my shower in Virginia

My gift to you, for being a loyal reader: a little pregnancy secret I got from Trinity.

FAKE EYELASHES.

They help combat fat face in pregnancy photos. Especially during showers, when people take 10 million photos of you saying "aww!" at tiny baby socks or laughing at a card about how you're never sleeping again.

Shh, don't tell!

Pregnancy Confessions: Volume Seven

As most of you already know, I don't love being pregnant. The first trimester (literally, from the day I hit 5 weeks) I was vomiting and nauseous and felt like I had a 3 month hangover. The second trimester, admittedly, was "not that bad", once we got to the part of finding out what we were having, picking a name, decorating a nursery and feeling baby kicks. The third trimester is pretty much shit. Not as much shit as the first, but it's not a vast improvement either. I'm uncomfortable pretty much all of the time, I can't sleep through the night, 7.5 weeks seems like an eternity and not enough time all at once.

But I'll confess, there are some things I'm going to miss about being pregnant. A few things I would even say I really love (gasp!) about it. Here are some of my favorite pregnancy perks

• Feeling her kick. So long as it's not pressing her tiny feet against my ribs, or the hiccups for the fourth time that day, I love feeling her move. They're not even really kicks, because most of the time they're pretty gentle movements - she's a delicate little thing. I try to remember to do kick counts since she's not the most active baby, and I think it's awesome to sit in a meeting with my hands resting on my belly while my baby communicates with me in morse code. I think it's adorable to feel her stretch.
• Eating whatever I want, whenever I want. With the way I eat, I'm shocked that my weight gain has been quelled at 15 lbs so far. I had a mini cadbury cream egg at 9am on my way to work. I started to take a log of everything I ate in one day, and I was literally too embarrassed to ever post the blog. Ben has even had a few moments of really indulging me, whether driving to Bull McCabe's to get me fried fish or driving all the way to North Raleigh to try to find a Long John Silver.
• Classic Coca-Cola. I switched to diet soda years ago but aspartame can be absorbed through the placenta so I've avoided artificial sweeteners throughout the pregnancy. Oh my gosh y'all, when was the last time you had a real coke? I don't think I can go back to diet. Real coke is like heaven. Don't worry, I never have more than one a day (recommended daily max for pregnancy is 200mg of caffeine; a can of coke has 45mg) and I don't have it every day, but man-oh-man. They are awesome.
• Not sucking in my stomach, ever. For the first few weeks I did, especially when I felt like I was starting to show (I wasn't) and wasn't ready to tell people. However, from the time we announced the pregnancy, I have not once tried to hold in my belly. Even when I put on a bikini on our mountain vacay a few months ago. Doesn't matter how much I eat, I just let it hang and everyone thinks it's cute (or at least says they do). This probably means my abs have disappeared, but let's be honest, they weren't that great to start with.
• An excuse to do only what I feel like doing. Don't get me wrong, I don't abuse my pregnancy perks. I save these times for when I really need them. But when I'm just too exhausted to get off the couch and fold the laundry, or when I wake up at 10 and decide that Benji & I need more sleep so we skip church, I don't feel guilty about it. And when I want to leave a party (whether it's 11pm or 2am), I decide that it's time to go and we go home. And y'all? I haven't vacuumed since before Christmas! God bless my sweet husband and our God-send of a cleaning lady.

I'm sure there are more benefits that I'm going to miss, but sometimes, when you're flushed and slightly feverish from a TDaP vaccine and the baby is pressing her tiny bony feet into your ribs in an attempt to collapse your lungs, you just can't think of any more pregnancy perks. 

"Oh my gosh, you're getting so BIG!"

... and other stupid things you should never say to a pregnant woman

Look, I get it. Maybe you've never had a human being living inside your abdomen. Or perhaps you have, but it's been 25+ years and you've forgotten how hard it is to grapple with the increasing numbers on the scale every week. When you become pregnant, it's like everyone forgets that they can talk to you about other things besides your impending arrival. Or that you're an actual human being and not just an incubator. I'm sure I've made some of the cardinal pregnancy mistakes myself, but guess what - you don't have to! Here's a list of things you should refrain from saying to a pregnant woman, whether she's a stranger at the supermarket, a co-worker, a member of your church, or your cousin / sister-in-law / friend.

(Disclaimer: Don't worry, I'm not mad at anyone in particular. The comments are just so baffling sometimes that I had to share)

• "You're finally starting to show!" or some other less polite way of saying you now look pregnant, instead of just fat. God only knows what they were saying before this point!
• "Are you scared about the delivery?" I'm sorry, are there people who are totally comfortable with pushing an 8 lb human out of any of the holes in their body? It's gotta come out some how!
• "Are you / your husband so excited?" If we weren't, do you think that's something we would be forthcoming about? Of course we're excited, but also scared shitless. And I think that's par for the course!
• "WOW" or any other exclamation that is noticeably in response to your exponentially-increasing-waistline. My thoughts exactly, every time I see my reflection, thanks for reminding me.
• "Be careful, because my friend had (insert horrible medical disaster) happen to her" As if you don't already have enough worry running through your mind every minute of every day. I'm really sorry that happened to your friend, but there's a 0.3% chance of it happening to me so I'd rather not dwell on the possibility.
• "Enjoy it now" whether in reference to sleep, eating out, going to the movies, frivolous spending, vacations, etc. because your life will come to a screeching halt once the baby comes. And when you try to say otherwise, their knowing "we'll see" comments with a smirk - just adorable.
• "I did that 20 years ago with my kids and they turned out fine" I am thrilled that your children didn't suffer any long-term damage (or worse) from a drop-side crib, being covered with a quilt, sleeping in your bed, sleeping on their stomach, etc. but infant fatality rates have dropped significantly since then and I'd like to keep it that way
• "You can't eat that / do that / go there - it's bad for the baby!" It's amazing how many of your friends and family members come out of the woodwork with their medical degree once you're expecting. You're right, I should definitely trust you instead of my obstetrician!

Mommies-in-progress / current Mommies, please share some of the gems you've heard over the years!

Pregnancy Confessions: Volume Six

Another one from the vault. This one slightly less whiny / bitchy.

I don't remember ever seeing my parents kiss. They were together for the first 9 years of my life, and at least 4-5 of those years I have pretty vivid memories of, and I don't remember any affection between them. I remember the first time I heard one of them say a cuss word, and the first time I realized one of them was drunk, and even the first time one of them lied to me. But I don't remember a kiss or a hug or even holding hands. Granted, they later separated and eventually divorced, but that is a noticeable absence in my memories.

I pray that my daughter never has that absence.

I pray that she always knows her parents love her more than anything, except for how much they love the Lord and love each other. I pray that she sees the wonderful man her father is and never settles for anything less than that in a significant other. I pray that she sees her mama as a strong woman who has her own identity that is still magically and romantically intertwined with her one true love. I pray she's the daddy's girl I never was.

But I think one of my strongest desires is for her to always ALWAYS know that her parents are deeply in love, more that day than the day before, and more that year than we were the year we met. And I need to use this desire as motivation to speak a little more kindly, and say "I love you" a little bit more, and kiss a few more times, and just do a better job of taking care of him. Because pretty soon, she's going to see how we treat each other everyday, and I want that to be a good example for the many relationships she's going to have.

Ugh. Some day, someone's going to want to date my daughter.

Pregnancy Confessions: Volume Five

I need to preface this by saying I started it a week ago, and am now coming back in a calmer, clearer, less hormonal state of mind. So it might be slightly watered down from its original form, but the sentiment is the same. And I think the sentiment, in general, could best be described with this:

I need to get this off my chest. And dammit, it's my blog, so I'm going to. And if you're offended, tough luck, don't read it. And if you make a comment on this post  that I don't like, I might just delete it. BECAUSE THAT'S WHAT KIND OF MOOD I'M IN!

By the way, I do not need you to remind me that I'm only feeling this way because of the unGodly amount of hormones coursing through my body. I'm well-aware the effects that pregnancy is having on every. single. aspect. of my life.

Maybe this isn't so much a confession as it is a rant. But if I start a blog series of pregnancy rants, I might come across bitchy and unreasonable, which is not the sweet, life-supporting vision that people like to have in their mind of pregnant women. So I'm going to keep calling it a confession, because I'm confessing that I'm just about fed up.

What am I fed up with, you may ask? Oh, you must not have seen my Facebook or Twitter posts recently. That's ok, here's the abridged version:

Ben & I are going to the mountains of MD with my cousins and some of their friends next weekend, a trip we planned before we knew I was pregnant. The weekend will include skiing and/or snowboarding, drinking, eating, hot tubbing, spa visits, and who knows what else ... or any combination thereof, for any given attendee. We have a few unexpected openings in the house and my cousin asked me to see if any of our friends were interested, so I posted it on facebook.

big. freakin. mistake.

Within an hour, there were ten comments nay-saying questioning my ability to do any of the aforementioned activities. I know these comments are made by friends and family members who love me and are concerned for my well-being and that of the baby - I get it, I do. But here's how it comes across, at first glance, to a hormonal mom-to-be: you're insinuating that I don't know what I can and cannot do, just because I'm a first-time mom, and you're questioning my judgement or ability to research the exact same articles you've found, and you're basically telling me that I have no clue what I'm doing. That's how it comes across, that's all I'm saying.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Now then (and this is from the clearer, calmer, less hormonal part of me, a later addition to the earlier-written original post), I really do know that people are just trying to help. I know there is nothing malicious in their intent and that similar advice (whatever was the medical / social standard at the time) was given to them during their pregnancy. I appreciate most of the advice and try to graciously listen to all of it and decide later what I will and will not put to use. I'm not trying to berate anyone or make them feel bad about the things they've said / continue to say to me. All I'm saying is that sometimes, it gets to be a little bit much. I guess this whole post is a confession after all, because here's the thing:

I don't know what I'm doing. 

I research, I ask questions, I call my doctor's office, I read blogs and forums. But I have to figure it out on my own, just like every other first time mom did. I have to figure out what works for me during my pregnancy, and what works for us as a family once she's here. So I'm really trying not to get upset about it, and I'm trying to learn how to appropriately respond. But as much as I have to bear with all the people who feel the need to force feed me unsolicited advice about every topic under the sun, you'll have to bear with me while I find my balance. And for those of you who can do that, I genuinely appreciate you.

And in case you're wondering, you can give me whatever advice you want if you start with telling me how great I look :) Pregnant women eat that shit up.

Pregnancy Confessions: Volume Four

If there's one food that's grossed me out the entire pregnancy, it's avocado. Guacamole is fine, but I can't do the real thing. Of course, I don't publicize this because I don't even want to talk about them. And because I thought morning sickness was behind me.

But I was wrong.

My co-workers and I were talking about grilled cheese sandwiches, because I decided that's what I needed for lunch today. Then one of them starts talking about making a grilled cheese this wknd with ... the "a" word on it. And it was just too much for me. So much so, that I had to RUN to the bathroom, with people darting out of my way in the hallway. Unfortunately I turned the corner just a little too quickly and ran - literally ran - into our COO. And then subsequently fell over. All the while trying not to vomit just yet.

Could I be any more embarrassed?

Don't worry, I didn't throw up anywhere I wasn't supposed to. I apologized to the COO and she thanked me for not doing it on her.

But seriously?

Pregnancy is so weird.

TAG! You're it!

Sweet Fran over at The Jenkins Family tagged me in this fun post, so what better way to spend a Sunday afternoon than telling you a little more about me? Especially now that there are actually a few "virtual strangers" that have started following my blog since the pregnancy. So thanks, Fran!

First Things First, The Rules:

• You must post the rules.
• Post eleven fun facts about yourself on the blog post.
• Answer the questions the tagger set for you in their post, and then create eleven new questions to ask the people you've tagged.
• Tag eleven people and link them on your post
• Let them know you've tagged them!

Eleven Fun Facts About Me:

1. I was born with a dislocated hip and a dislocated elbow, so poor little baby Aubrey had to have a brace and a cast. To this day, I have a gigantic scar on my arm from the surgery that the elbow condition eventually resulted in, and if I'm sleepy or drunk my left foot turns in pigeon-footed from the hip thing. I'm going to demand that they check my baby girl for both of these when she's born.
   
2. I AM HAVING A BABY GIRL. In June. I don't know if I've ever been more excited about anything than being a mommy to a sweet baby girl.
3. My husband Ben & I are taking said baby girl to London next summer to go to the Olympics. We had already planned the trip with friends, and going to the Olympics is definitely on our bucket lists, so when we found out we were pregnant we decided that we'd try to make it work so as to not miss out on this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. Hopefully it works out!
4. If I had been a boy, I would've been named Frank Edward Harris, Jr. YIKES! But my mom wanted to call me Teddy, I guess it could be worse. They had the same boy name picked out for my sister.
5. I had a lot of "best friends" at various points of my childhood, but I met my lifelong best friend (besides, of course, my husband. and then my sister) when I was 14. We became especially close when I got mono from sharing her Chapstick.
   
6. My favorite color has been pink since I was old enough to talk. I am the ultimate of girly girls, and baby will be too (at least until she's old enough to protest it, but I hope that never happens).
7. The one food I will not touch is sweet potatoes. My uncle made me eat them when I was four and I vomited all over the Thanksgiving table. Ben also cannot stand sweet potatoes - that's how I knew we were perfect for each other. The bad news? Baby is currently the size of a sweet potato. The good news? At least we know I won't eat her...
8. I can always always find something to buy in the Yankee Candle store. I love candles and am terrified of my house smelling bad / weird.
9. I'm a sympathetic vomiter. As is my best friend. This has made for some horribly painful hungover mornings for us.
10. I was proposed to in front of nearly 60,000 people. My husband is amazing.
11. I love falling asleep on the couch. I think our couches are so comfortable, even though I hate that they have couch covers on them (because they're from the Goodwill). I'm not sure if we'll ever find couches we love as much as these ... we've been looking, but so far, no dice.

Fran's Questions For Me

1. Favorite Blog you follow? Momastery - Glennon is amazing.
2. Favorite Pandora radio station? Wicked, I am a sucker for musicals.
3. Last thing you ate? A lamb gyro and some potato soup from this adorable little cafe in downtown Cary. It's like 3 minutes from our house and we just discovered it last weekend!
4. Last thing you bought? A really freaking cute outfit for the baby to wear while we're at the Olympics.
   
5. Favorite date spot? Any restaurant that's new to both of us. I love trying out new places and trying to find something delicious on the menu. It's always funny to me how adamant Ben is that we not order the same thing when we go out to dinner, even though normally our first choices are the same. Luckily he normally lets me order first.
6. Pets?  Do you have any?  If so, what are they? I firmly believe in adopting dogs and cats from the pound. Our sweet pup Lucy, who will be six on Valentine's Day, is a pound puppy that we rescued when she was about 6 weeks old. We named her Lucy because we had seen The Chronicles of Narnia that weekend. We think she's part pit bull and part border collie.
   
7. Favorite book you have read? Divine Secrets of the Yaya Sisterhood, I think. But I also love Summer Sisters, Fahrenheit 451, The Shack ... most books I've read in adulthood, I love, because if I don't love them after the first few pages I don't continue reading them.
8. Favorite kid friendly apps {if this applies} or favorite app in general? Not sure yet about kid friendly apps, but the apps I check most frequently are Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, Pinterest and What To Expect When You're Expecting.
9. Who is your favorite actor / actress?  Why? I love Julia Roberts, she's so quirky and cute. I also really love Kristen Bell, but she reminds me of my husband's ex-girlfriend and that's slightly irritating, even though his ex is really sweet.
10. Favorite baby names? boy & girl? I would love to name a boy Benjamin Colt Eckerson, Jr and call him Colt. I'm not crazy about the idea of a "junior" but I think my husband's name is awesome. And for a girl, my favorite name will be forthcoming in an overly dramatic blog announcement ;) But second favorite is Eisleigh Grace.
11. Favorite Sunday afternoon activity? Falling asleep on the couch while watching football with Ben.

Who's Next?

• Yaeli at Mummy in Progress
• Page at It's Marvelous
• Ginna at My Pretty Pennies
• Megan at Wades of 108
• Mary at The Rook Family
• Megan at Los Dos Daubertos
• Kelsey at Ode to Fetaus Dirte
• Jessica at Who's That Girl...It's Jess
• Caroline at Clumsy Crafty Happy
• Brett at The Bakery
• Kara at Burrell's Plus One

My Questions For You

1. What's your favorite color?
2. What's your favorite thing about your husband / significant other?
3. Do you have / want children? How many?
4. What would you choose as your last meal?
5. What's your favorite bible verse, if you read the bible?
6. Where is one place you'd like to visit before you die?
7. Which room of your house is your favorite and why?
8. What's your favorite day of the week and why?
9. Which store can you never go in without buying something?
10. What is your favorite physical quality about yourself? Emotional quality?
11. If you could be any animal, what would you choose?

Pregnancy Confessions: Volume Three

Which could also be called:

Don't make me go all pregnancy-hormones on your ass!

I have had my fair share of crazy hormonal breakdowns (aforementioned screaming at husband for unmatched socks, crying over movie previews, etc), but I think for the most part my crazy has been kept at bay. However, I just received a phone call that almost compromised all that.

Let me back up.

We have our Level Two Ultrasound scheduled for this Friday, January 13. Yes, in less than 4 days we will know the gender of this little lovebug. Not that I'm counting down or anything. So we decided to have a small gathering at the house that evening to tell our family and a few very close friends all at once. My mom is driving down from Virginia for it and my best friend is coming up from South Carolina, bless their hearts. I guess what I'm trying to say is, not only have we been counting down to this day for weeks, but other people are planning their schedules around it as well. Then this morning, I got a phone call from my doctor's office; I assume, it's to confirm my appointment. "We had a doctor quit unexpectedly and we'll need to reschedule your appointment for next week..."

Excuse me, WHAT DID YOU SAY?

This is the part where I almost went all pregnancy-hormones on her ass. But instead, I calmly (half-whining) explained that I had company coming from out of town to hear our big news Friday and could we pleeeeeease do it any other time this week and I would happily make myself available at ANY TIME if we could.

"Let me put you on hold"

Five agonizing minutes later, we will be keeping the appointment on Friday morning. Crisis averted.

For all you mamas, and mamas-in-progress ... am I alone in this? You'd freak out if they rescheduled your level two ultrasound, too ... right?

Pregnancy Confessions: Volume Two

Yes, I knoooooow I already posted today, but I can't let this slip by anymore. I need to get it off my chest, and Praise the Lord, Glennon (an amazing blogger I've been following for awhile) gave me the strength to share it with all (25) of you. I have been nervous about sharing these feelings with anyone, for fear of judgement. But you know what? This is my blog. And nobody gets to come to my blog and judge me. I know you're all here because you love me, and my recipes and my crafts and my husband and, most importantly, our sweet babe.

So, if you have the time, read this first. Then continue reading mine.

This is an absolutely amazing time in my life, and in my relationship with my Ben. I recognize that I only get to have these nine months, and then life will be flying by faster than I ever could've imagined. I recognize that the miracle happening inside me right now can only be described as that - a miracle. And that our gracious Father decided WE were fit to raise one of His precious children, and that I am fit to carry that precious child until it's ready for this world.

Psalm 118:23 The LORD has done this and it is marvelous in our eyes

It is so marvelous. This baby, creating a life with my wonderful husband, it's marvelous. But sometimes, I feel slightly less than marvelous, myself. Sometimes, when someone asks me, "Don't you just love being pregnant?!" I politely smile and nod, but inside, I'm thinking "ARE YOU CRAZY?!"

I vomited all day every day for almost three months, I miss sushi and Jersey Mike's, I couldn't partake in the beauty of fall beer season, I'm exhausted and have headaches every day, I don't recognize my own body and ALL I WANT TO DO IS SLEEP FOR EIGHT HOURS STRAIGHT. Yes, now that you mention it, I just looooooove being pregnant!

OK, I may be exaggerating slightly on how bad it is and how much fun it is not. And I know there are women who love being pregnant. But, y'all? I am not one of them.

To all you women who legitimately do love being pregnant, I love you for it. I love you for saying how much you love it, because it made me so excited to one day get pregnant and it makes me want to love it now. I don't resent you if you haven't had even a touch of morning sickness, or if your skin is glowing, hair is shiny and nails are strong, or if you somehow still have the strength and energy to run 6 miles, make an organic dinner and have sex with your husband every night. If it wasn't for people like you, and there were only people like me, no one would ever want to get pregnant. I understand they'd do it out of necessity to procreate, but they wouldn't look forward to it like I did. So God Bless You for convincing other women of the world to join this not-so-secret club called motherhood.

Now then, readers, please don't take this the wrong way. I love what God is doing in our lives. I love this little baby more than anyone on this planet besides my husband. And, trust me when I tell you, I want to love being pregnant. But I don't... yet. I keep being told that I'll forget all about being sick, tired and cranky in a few months. I'll forget that my nipples grew to the size of saucers and I cried over movie previews and screamed at my husband for an unmatched sock. I'll hold that precious angel and forget alllllll about the bad, only remembering the blessing that resulted in these 9 hellish months, and immediately want to do it all over again. But until that point, I'm going to remember. And I'm going to continue to smile and nod about how much I love being pregnant, all the while leaking unidentified vaginal fluid and trying to discretely adjust the elastic waist band that is likely digging into my love handles.

And let's be honest, with these hormones? I'll probably post in again in a few weeks, through weepy eyes, telling you all how much I really do love being pregnant.

Pregnancy Confessions: Volume One

Let me just say, being pregnant with Ben Eckerson is frickin' hilarious. Every so often, I freak out on him (I mean, wouldn't YOU freak out if he brought up a pile of laundry that included an unmatched sock?!), but for the most part, my husband makes me laugh to no end. A perfect example was this morning, on the way to work:

A: OW! This kid is killing my uterus today.
B: Is it because your uterus is introverted? Is the baby break-dancing?
A: RETRO-verted sweetheart. It's not upside down, it just leans back.
B: Oh, retro, so it's a retro baby? Like an 80's baby!
A: Sure. Let's just name the baby M.C. Hammer...
B: Or just Hammer?

... I think he was serious. You should hear some of the name suggestions this guy comes up with. Also, I know my husband well enough to know he thought my uterus was upside down, not shy. So when he said "introverted" he meant "inverted". Bless his heart.

Anyway, this isn't about him (too late), it's about me and my pregnancy confession for the week (I reserve the right to have more confessions if I have a particularly embarrassing week).

Whilst laying on my back in bed Saturday evening, procrastinating getting ready for our agency holiday party, I was pressing on my stomach just below my belly button where I *think* my uterus is currently located (because it's a little bit hard there). And then, I felt it! A tiny little kick! I yelled to Ben, "Oh my gosh! Come here and feel this!" just in time to realize it was my own heartbeat.

Real cool, dummy.

Ah well, I'm sure it won't be long before we feel a *real* kick. Can't wait!