Oh no

Hours after posting my last blog, I was removing my socks and discovered ... the beginnings of cankles!!! Damn my optimism. Now, they are nowhere near full-blown cankles, but the bones protrude a little less. It's not like the time I stood in an ant hill and ended up with footballs at the bottom of my legs, but I still have a month to go. Maybe this time I'll end up with rugby balls!! (For Southerners who have never seen a rugby ball, imagine a more round football.)

I'm SO ready; I'm so NOT ready

I've gotten to the point in my pregnancy where co-workers, relatives, strangers, etc., are starting to make the comment: "I bet you're ready, huh?" I don't know if it's the sleepiness in my eyes or the stoop in my posture, but I guess they think I just look like I've had enough. For the most part, they are right. I cannot remember the last night of decent sleep I have had in a long time. I know, I know, that's not going to get much better once the baby comes. But at least I'll have something to do while I'm awake in the middle of the night besides pee and try (fruitlessly) to find a comfy position. Andy is under the weather right now and last night his snoring was pretty loud. I went to the living room to seek peace and quiet. Then the cat started scratching at something. And it was raining outside ('bout time). Normally I sleep well when it rains, but I kept hearing some sort of dripping noise. So after half an hour of trying to decide whether to locate the source of the noise, I went into the guestroom to sleep. I had forgotten that all of the baby supplies we cannot/have not found room for in the nursery were piled on the bed. So were the large vases we had moved out of the living room to make room for the Christmas tree. So were the Halloween decorations we had pulled out, but never put up. So at 4 a.m. this morning I was hauling ceramics, a baby carrier, ghosts, a giant spider, a play yard, a bouncer, among other things. I still got crappy sleep. Enough complaining about sleeplessness. Here are a few reasons I'm ready - and not ready - to have this baby.

Reasons I'm Ready

1. I've already gained the recommended 30 pounds.

2. Although I love my job, it sure would be nice to stop working.

3. I'm seriously starting to stress and if the baby came now, it would be ok that everything is in a state of chaos - that's parenthood - otherwise it's called being unprepared.

4. I haven't developed cankles and I would really love it if I never did.

5. Even some of my maternity shirts no longer stretch far enough out front to cover my belly.

6. Moments of hysterical crying are becoming more regular and I feel like I'm totally losing control at times. Sullivan ate my cookie last night and you would have thought I was experiencing the apocalypse.

Reasons I'm NOT Ready

1. I have a presentation to give at a conference next week and another conference paper to write for one in February (don't worry, I'm not going, it's in Dallas). Pray I don't go into labor during my presentation next week. Tuskegee may only be 20 miles away, but I'm sure that's a long way to drive when you're having contractions.

2. To be completely honest, I really do like having a nice, round belly. It is liberating in some ways.

3. I still have oodles of reading to do to prepare me for D-Day and the rest of motherhood.

4. I still haven't packed my overnight bag. I bought a pink Under Armor gym bag and I'm totally psyched about using all the pockets. Did I just sound like a 13-year-old or what?

5. The nursery is still not quite done. The walls are a little bare and I cannot find a hamper I like. Who knew it would be so hard to find something that will hold clothes soiled with all manner of bodily fluids (and probably not-so-fluids)?

6. The house is a bit of a disaster. Not the whole house, mainly just the bedroom closet and the office. And the previously-mentioned guestroom. Definitely not ready for gracious grandparents-to-be who have offered their services.

My Husband is Awesome

Andy is on his way to D.C. right now. He has a Society for Human Resource Management leadership training conference thing. He'll be back late Saturday night. Sullivan, baby and I miss him already. The cats haven't noticed his absence (they're mean like that). But I thought I would share why my husband is the best husband in the world. Before he left this afternoon he did several things for me: He bought me a Dog Fancy magazine that has Old English Sheepdogs as its cover feature story (he's not a big gift-giver, but when he does give me something, it's always very heartfelt); he installed a hook on the bathroom door to hang the bathrobe I've resorted to wearing on a daily basis before and after work; and he went to the woefully-understaffed Verizon Wireless store and stood in line to argue a $30 fee I insisted we didn't need to pay. I think everyone will agree that last one is kind of a biggie. So, because he is such an awesome husband and will be (already is, actually) a great dad, please keep him in your thoughts and pray he has a safe trip!

Vanity of Dyer

Warning: this blog contains lots of rambling about myself. Hence, the title. But the title is also in honor of Jack Kerouac, whose "On the Road" celebrated its 50th anniversary this year. Kerouac also wrote a book titled "Vanity of Duluoz". I tried reading it, but couldn't quite finish it before the library said I couldn't renew it anymore. That's what I get for being a pretentious 15-year-old trying to read stuff way above my understanding. Maybe I'll give it another shot now that I'm older and wiser (Ha!).

Yay!

I recently found out a friend of mine is pregnant too and I'm absolutely thrilled. Even though being pregnant is an exciting experience, it can be lonely at times. I'm not sure why, I guess because you're going through these emotions and physical changes that no matter how supportive your loved ones are (and believe me, they are), you still feel like you're kind of on your own to deal with the challenges. But, on the other hand, you're also the only one who gets to feel the baby rolling around in your womb, and nothing compares to that! I'm so glad I have someone special to experience all these sensations with.

Stupid Tube

My esophagus has decided to become a pretty useless organ at night and because of heartburn I've resorted to sleeping in a reclined position to keep the contents of my stomach from backing up into my throat. My back continues to cause the most discomfort, but they ordered me a new chair at work, so hopefully that will improve. My current chair is your standard, four-legged chair someone thought graduate students should be confined to as punishment for some reason or another.

We're Not Fat, Lazy Ladies

I now have a deeper understanding of things like the pregnant waddle and the huffing and puffing of prenant ladies. I used to think that it was just because they were carrying around 30 extra pounds and were not in shape. Now I know that it has more to do with the fact their organs are all squished up and competing for blood and oxygen with an ever-growing parasite. Do pregnant ladies really need their own parking spaces at Goody's? Probably not. Should strangers give up their seats on the bus or their spots in crowded elevators? That would be nice. Though, honestly, I probably needed the designated parking or the bus seats more my first trimester when fatigue hit me like a Mack truck. Now I really need the exercise.

49 Days to Go

My torso seems to think that there is simply no more room in there for baby. My rib cage, pelvis, and associated ligaments and tendons don't care that the baby still has six more weeks of growing to do; they think it's unfair they should be forced to deal with this pressure and they're making their complaints known to me. But as my D-Day (delivery day) approaches, I'm starting to get a little freaked out about the birthing process. I'm really struggling with decisions about epidurals and other "interventions." Before I got pregnant, I always said that I wanted to be totally drugged up, no question about it. But now that I've got this thing inside of me and its health has become my number one priority, I don't know what I want. Any kind of intervention (inducing, breaking the "bag of waters," etc.) increases the likelihood of needing further interventions - and of prolonging labor. All interventions have their inherent risks (certain drugs can cross the placenta, for instance); but so does being stubborn and not allowing the doctor to do what he or she thinks is best. Ideally, I'd like to breastfeed as soon as possible after delivery, but if I get a C-section or am completely doped up, I don't know how that fits in with those plans. I know it's probably silly to stress about these decisions because when the time comes, I'll probably not have a whole lot of control over what happens. But I am my father's daughter and I will stress out over that which I do not know nor have any measure of control over. Damn Frew genes. How come I coundn't outgrow these genes the same way I outgrew my blue jeans?

Update

Because I should be working instead of blogging, I'll make this quick. Today I had a doctor's appointment. My weight is at 174.5 pounds, bringing my total weight gain to around 30 pounds (yes, I still have almost two months to go). Baby's heartbeat is at 157 - I thought it was supposed to slow down as it got bigger, but apparently baby takes after mommy in this regard (I've always had a faster heartbeat). Does this mean I'll have an anxious child? My uterus measures 33 centimeters. The doctor said I'm still about a week ahead of schedule (at my last two appointments he said I was ahead of schedule). I told him I hoped that was an indication that I'll deliver early. He just smiled and said "maybe." I'm hoping his smile was sincere and hopeful, not condescending in a "oh, what a silly girl" kind of way. The nurse said the doctor will begin regular pelvic exams around week 36. How sad is it that that got me excited?

In other news, we attended our first birthing class last night. It was pretty much what I expected, complete with cheesy "relaxation" exercise and explicit video. Honestly, the video wasn't that bad, though the part where the doctor held the placenta up to the mother's face was kind of gross. The nurse assured us that isn't standard procedure. I know I certainly don't want to be looking at that thing right after I had a baby (or any other time, for that matter). Next week we get to visit the (brand-new) maternity ward at the hospital. I love field trips!

Our nursery is getting close to being an actual bedroom instead of a storage closet. We've washed all the clothes, blankets, and washclothes. Everybody told us that because we weren't finding out the sex of the baby, we wouldn't get any baby clothes. Boy, were they wrong. We have oodles of 0-3 month clothes. Yes, they are mostly yellow and green, but they are all so precious, who cares! We're waiting on the yellow swivel rocker to be delivered (courtesy of Granny and GG) and once that gets here, I can rearrange the nursery furniture for the 88th (and 89th, 90th, 91st) time. I promise I'll get some pictures up when that time comes. But if I don't, you can't get mad at me. I'm pregnant.