Life's a Beach

And now for some happier things

BFF Ashley decided last week that she wanted to go to the beach. And that she wanted me to come with her. So we packed up the boys and the iPads and a hundred pounds of snacks and headed out on the 3+ hour drive to the peninsula. Ashley's aunt owns a house out in Moclips that we used as our home base for the day and got the boys some beach time.

It was Tycho's first time seeing the Pacific Ocean. It was awesome.

Birth Story, Part Three: The Pushening

I pushed for just under three hours, alternating between the birthing stool, and various positions on the bed. Most of the time Nicole had her hand all up in me, pushing back the lip of my cervix. It was not fun. I had heard from a lot of  people that after a tough first stage of labor pushing was a relief or even felt good, but for me it was the worst part. I was still puking through all of it, but it actually felt better and helped make my pushes stronger. It was all water by that point anyway, which makes me feel better about it splashing out of the bowl onto Nicole.

After struggling on the bed for a while I asked to move back to the stool, because my pushes felt much more effective there. Gravity, and things. Kyle sat behind me on the bed and made sure I had access to water and chapstick.  After a bunch of contractions we finally got him past the lip of my cervix. Nicole kept asking me if I wanted to see his head in the mirror or reach down and feel him and I was completely uninterested. I just wanted him out of me.

It was really intense when he was actually in my birth canal. At that point I stopped waiting for contractions and was pushing pretty much continuously because it hurt too much not to. My moans were turning into screams, and Roxanne had to remind me to keep things low. It felt like my clitoris was ripping in two! I was not prepared to feel pain there, and I was scared that I might be doing permanent damage to it. But in between all the pushing and the screaming I would look around at my birth team and my mom and Ashley and I felt very supported and amazing.

It was such a relief when his head was finally out. His cord was around his neck, so Nicole had me breathe through a contraction while she slipped it over his head, no big deal. The rest of him was easy in comparison.

He had apparently passed some meconium during labor, so they had to suction out his mouth before they handed him to me. I was totally agog. Looking down at him he seemed way too big to be a newborn baby, and instead of love I felt disbelief that something so huge had just come out of me. He didn't cry at first, but after a few seconds of holding him and stroking him and talking to him he started whimpering and then let out a healthy wail. He was born at 2:30 in the morning on Saturday, July 23, 2011.

I barely even remember birthing the placenta, but it certainly was no big deal compared to my enormous baby. We got into bed with our son, and my mom called my dad and my sister to announce Tycho's arrival and have them make their way over to the birth center. Kyle called his parents to tell them the news.

Everyone was shocked by how big he was. (Two days previously they had written in my chart that they expected him to be around seven pounds.) We all made our guesses on how much he would weigh, and Nicole was right on the money: nine pounds, two ounces.

I apparently had a pretty huge placenta, too. Nicole did her examination of it and showed us all of its parts. We tried to get Tycho nursing, but he must have been overstimulated, because he would only latch on for a minute at a time.  After some more visiting, everyone left to go home and get some sleep. 

Prologue | Part One | Part Two | Part Four

Birth Story, Part Two: Centered

We ended up driving to the birth center with me kneeling over a yoga ball in the back of our SUV. It's about a 25 minute drive, and in the back of my mind I was worried that  we might get pulled over. Kyle talked me through the drive, telling me how close we were and reminding me to breathe. My midwife Nicole and the student Tara met us there. BFF (and photographer!) Ashley and my mom made their way in as well.

I was still doing pretty well when we got there, and everyone was worried that I wasn't really that far along. After listening to the baby through a contraction Nicole checked me and I was 6cm dilated, and my cervix was paper thin. Victory! It was so reassuring to know that my instincts were right and I had already done most of the hard work, and I was still under control. I could totally do this!

I got into the tub almost immediately after they checked me. It felt wonderful, and reset me a little bit. I was breathing through my contractions, in a world of my own. I was mostly doing well, although baby boy had a mean habit of thrashing about just as my contractions were dying down and I started to relax. Everyone laughed  when I kept shouting at my belly for him to cut it out. But besides that, things remained manageable for me. We had spent so much time in class talking about when you can no longer handle contractions and your partner needs to swoop in with his take charge routine, but I never really got there, and I kept wondering when it was going to happen. 

After a while of peacefully lying in the tub and breathing through my contractions, I think I hit transition. I suddenly NEEDED to change positions, and started to vomit at every contraction.  I leaned over the side of the tub, and Kyle made sure that I was drinking in between my contractions to keep hydrated.

I was starting to feel kind of push-y but I tried to ignore the urge. I did okay for a while, but all of the sudden it was getting to be too much, and I wanted OUT. OF. THE. TUB. Nicole checked me again. I was almost completely dilated, but I had a small stubborn lip of my cervix. I tried to breathe through a few more contractions, but the urge to push was getting really strong.

Prologue | Part One | Part Three | Part Four

Another day

Today is a better day. Yesterday was pretty okay, too, actually. I haven't cried since Friday, but I cried way a lot on Friday, so I guess it all evens out. But at least a little bit I think I'm learning how to live at this new pace that is the end of pregnancy. Living slower is making me feel like I'm not doing quite so much impossible waiting. I'm sleeping in and taking leisurely showers and generally not clock-watching and probably moving half as slow as the rest of the world, but I think that's for the best. The only hard part is that no one else is on my new schedule, so it can get kind of lonely. Everyone else also has lives and jobs and things, and I think are reserving their time for later, because it's much more exciting to hang out with a newborn baby than a bitchy term pregnant woman.

However. Kyle and I wandered and ate our way around the Bite of Seattle yesterday, which is pretty much the perfect event for a pregnant woman, and today BFF and I did some mall-walking, Frappuccino -drinking, and nursing-apparel shopping. I am a much happier person if I get out of the house and do something, anything, at least once a day. Tomorrow the only thing I have planned so far is a pedicure, but that is something at least. And beyond that, who knows. I'm having a hard time thinking more than one day ahead at this point. Everything seems far too uncertain.

I am starting to feel like I'm living in some sort of dream world. The longer things go, the less real anything feels. Kind of like the early weeks of my pregnancy where in between bouts of nausea I wouldn't have any symptoms and my body hadn't started changing yet and I would feel like I had imagined it all. Obviously, I am huge and clearly pregnant, but the reality of getting a baby sometime in the next week and a half seems to recede further and further into the distance. A week ago I felt like labor was imminent and I was ready, and now... it all just seems impossible. I feel like I am sitting in a nursery decorated for no one, and that I'm going to turn into a crazy lady pushing around an empty stroller. It is very strange and surreal.

But I guess it will all be over soon. This is the last month I will be pregnant. I will have a baby in the next couple weeks. This will end, and I will have my new reality and it will be good. I just need to remain calm and patient. I'm doing okay at that today.

33 Weeks and Things

So I am a terrible blogger it seems. Sorry. This past Wednesday was 33 weeks. According to my stupid baby center emails, he's the size of a pineapple. When I asked Kyle how big he thought baby boy was this week he guessed the right fruit. Unbelievable! Considering it has been as varied as "an English hothouse cucumber" or "an average sized rutabaga" or "four navel oranges".  I was kind of upset by his correct guess, but I'm not sure why.

Anyway, I feel huge, but everyone still tells me I look small. The scrawny arms and legs will do that, I guess. Even though we're FINALLY getting a few sunny days here and there, there still has been a lot of rain, and my plans to wear nothing but dresses for this last leg of my pregnancy is not working out so well. Pants are really not my favorite thing right now, but oh well.

Today was baby shower numero dos, with my mom's side of the family. I haven't seen any of them since I announced my pregnancy, so it was exciting for everyone, especially since baby boy is going to be the first great-grandchild for my Grandpa. My youngest cousin is turning 21 this summer, so it's been a LOOOONNNGG time since we had a baby around. My uncle sent me some pictures from the festivities.

My cousin-in-law (?), Nancy is a graphic designer, and these flags match the invitations she designed. Cute!

Someone dug up a baby picture of me. I was a chubster.

Highly flattering picture of my enormity in way too expensive boutiquey maternity dress. 

Hopefully he will send me some more, because I love that dress and spent FAR too much money on it and would like as many photos of myself in it as possible. And I am a big narcissist. 

Tomorrow is my third (and final?) baby shower, hosted by my glorious and also-pregnant BFF and I'm really excited for that. The guests are a hodgepodge of people that are awesome and also unrelated to me, and I think it will be really fun. She did an amazing job on my bridal shower way back when. I get to return the favor in two weeks!

Picture Perfect

After many months of begging and pleading and demanding and threatening Kyle finally bought me a new camera. I suppose I could have just bought myself a new camera, but somehow I got it in my head that he should buy me one, so... Clearly, we have a camera, or else you wouldn't have all these lovely terrible pictures of me. But it is really bad at taking pictures. At least ones that are any good. Because we bought it to take high speed video. And it does that very well. But that's about all.

Anyway, with the birth of my child imminently approaching, I was starting to get desperate. It's one thing to have blurry bathroom mirror belly photos, but it's another thing entirely to have unclear and unfocused snapshots of MY BABY OH MY GOD. You know.

I demanded a Canon. Kyle bought one. It showed up the other day. I am in love.

Thusly, BFF and I went to the Tulip Festival. When we were there last year we discussed what a perfect place it would be to take maternity photos. And here we are, both pregnant, so...

On the way home we stopped by the outlet mall to visit the Carter's and the Gymboree. Sigh. Today was a lovely day.

Sixteen

Little Belly!

As of yesterday, we've made it to sixteen weeks. I'm not really counting the days so much anymore; the weeks are all starting to run together. July 13th feels like it's right around the corner, and there's so much to do! One thing I'm not loving about pregnancy is that there is always some decision to panic about. And boy do I panic. Because every decision is also the most important one I've ever had to make. This is MY BABY we're talking about. It's not like buying a new pair of shoes or getting a hair cut, or really anything I've ever had to do before, and the (mostly self-imposed) pressure of the decisions mixed with pregnancy hormones and my already overly neurotic nature is running me ragged. I cry a lot. Kyle plays the good husband and tells me everything will be fine, but honestly, I don't want to hear that everything will be fine unless that statement is accompanied with information proving it to be true.

The other day I was chatting with BFF (she is pregnant too, a couple weeks behind me, but shh, don't tell), and she mentioned that she had registered for her child birth class recently. Wait, what? Already? Oh yes, she says. Her midwife asked her what class she was taking at her 12 week appointment and that apparently got her going on it. What? At  MY 12 week appointment, with that very same midwife, I expressed concern (i.e. freaked out), about not getting things (birth classes, pediatrician picking, etc.) done on time, and she assured me that they would let me know at each appointment what I should be working on. Or not, I guess. So I start looking. The teacher most highly recommended by my birth center... well her class is already full. Shit. In the end we found a class that we are happy with, and we registered this afternoon, but OMG stress! However, I should tell you, that we are taking our birth class from none other than Penny Simkin herself. How awesome is that? I have now moved on to stressing about daycare. Oh, daycare. But my stress surrounding day care is probably more than enough for it's own post.

I'm also starting to feel quite a bit better about the whole maternity fashion thing. (Is it vain to talk about this so often?) I still don't quite look pregnant, unless you're looking from the exact right angle, and my posture is just so, and you knew what I looked like before, etc. etc. And feeling like you look fat instead of pregnant isn't any good. But I've been able to find a few more good pieces here and there and I don't feel like I am wearing the same tee shirt every day, so that is good. I still need to do a lot more work to build a functional wardrobe, but it probably be and ongoing process, especially since I'm sure some of the stuff that fits me now won't anymore later. BFF and I have a date this weekend to visit every maternity store in the Seattle metropolitan area, so that should be good, I think.

In other news, Kyle and I did venture to the local (well, it's really in another city) Babies 'R Us to start our registry. There are only maybe ten things on it as of right now, since we actually have to research car seats and strollers and bottles and what kind of baby grooming kit we want, but I feel better knowing that we've at least started it and that I've exposed Kyle to the sheer masses of stuff that we don't necessarily need, but that is available to make our lives easier (or perhaps more difficult) with a baby. And I'm slowly acquiring information and knowledge about car seats and strollers, so the volume of choices is starting to feel not entirely overwhelming, and I'm beginning to feel relatively confident that we'll actually be able to make a decision we feel confident before the baby turns two.

Two more days...

...of work before vacation. Hallelujah. I also need to get the hell away from work because they are all going to guess my secret because I think I'm for real starting to look pregnant. I can still suck it in and look like a normal human being, but if I relax or slouch at all... there's a tummy. And it's kind of weird how it's clearly a bump and not like, fat. Well, I guess that isn't weird at all, since I am in fact pregnant, and not fat, but you know. I thought I would go through a fat-looking phase before I got to the part where I started to look pregnant, but apparently. not.  I still don't have pictures because camera cable is still MIA, although it supposedly is in transit to us right now. So soon I will have a barrage of photos, since I have been dutifully taking them every week, even if I have no where to put them

I do, however, have this fabulous (and by fabulous I mean crappy and blurry) camera-phone picture of the new haircut I got today!  (I deliberately took this picture extra up-close so there wouldn't be any belly in it for the facebook viewers--sorry!) I love haircuts. I haven't had one since February because my regular stylist went and had a baby and I've been hair-homeless for a while now. My last cut was a cheapie at a hair school and I wasn't completely happy with it, so even though I've been wanting a change since at least this summer, I wasn't really sure where to go. But there was no way I was going to go hang out in Paris with split ends that are visible from a mile away, so I made an appointment at VAIN, and voile! I get so bored with my hair. I've been growing it out since I got married in 2008 (me and BFF decided to do it together--we made it to our goal in September), and it's been driving me crazy, because I like to change it up, well, far more often than that. So hurray. I feel awesome.

So, eleven weeks and everything is awesome. I can't wait to see my family.

This is hard.

Pregnancy glow my ass. It's acne-palooza here at chez Astrid. Seriously uncool. I need help looking like I'm old enough to be a mother as it is. This is not helping. I'm pretty sure there is a pimple inside my nostril. What?

This is hard. Today I have done very little other than eat and sleep. I have done a lot of both of those things. And I guess that makes sense, because hello! I am growing a person here. Hard work. I went to bed at 8:30 last night. And this morning I had breakfast before a quick meeting at work. And then BFF and I had brunch. And then I took a nap. And then Kyle made me whatever kind of meal it is that you eat at 3:15pm. So far so good.

Today is also exactly one week since my positive pregnancy test. I know that this isn't an anniversary worth celebrating, but holy cow, this has been the longest week of my life. Time is definitely slower now than it ever has been when I've been waiting to take a test. Which as we all know is impossible. I'm not impatient to meet baby or anything, because for one, baby is right here, and secondly I'd rather it have a chance to grow all of it's limbs and organs and stuff before it has to come out, but I'm thinking about how much longer it is until I'm "allowed" to start talking about it, and until I can get an ultrasound and see tiny baby pictures and hear tiny baby heartbeat, and until we can find out the sex and I can turn into a baby shopping maniac, because you better believe I will. I've already told everyone that I can rightfully tell without fully losing control of the news, and there is already a healthy risk that someone will blow it for me. That might be a relief.

Confirmed!

So, wow.


I started with a negative test on Saturday, but I wasn't super bummed out because I was pretty sure that I was in fact pregnant, and it was just too early to tell at only 10 days post ovulation. And I was right. I got that super faint pink line yesterday. Kyle didn't really believe me that it counted. I told him that any line, no matter how faint means I am pregnant, but he seemed to think that I was saying that out of wishful thinking. But the digital test this morning is loud and clear.

I'm pregnant. Pregnant. I'm so happy and my body is positively humming with excitement and I don't want to work or sleep or talk about anything else. At the same time, it all feels very casual and comfortable to me. I am almost positive that I felt implantation as it happened, and when my breasts started hurting I knew. And even when I got that negative test I still knew. So when I did get the positive it was almost old news. Almost. Clearly, I am thrilled, but I also feel very calm and prepared, even though I know I can't possibly be. I'm just so ready. I have had so long to think about this, and honestly I'm not really scared or nervous. Just excited. It's wonderful.


How in the world are you supposed to keep this a secret? I'm doing okay so far. I've told my sister and both my parents, and Kyle called his mother today. But I feel like that's pretty standard. I'm going to tell BFF as soon as we can get a lunch date scheduled, but if that doesn't work out in the next week or so the phone might have to suffice. I'm trying to wait until Thanksgiving to let the cat out of the bag but who knows. My dad said his money is on everyone knowing within a week. Oh well. It might be nice, because it was so hard not to say anything today at work. I wanted to respond to all the "how was your weekend?" with "ONLY THE BEST OF MY LIFE" (in all caps like that, you know), but then clearly they would ask why and where would we be then? I'll likely tell my boss as soon as I have symptoms which might start interfering with work, though. We'll see.


According to my calculations I am 3 weeks and 5 days pregnant. 36 weeks and 2 days to go! And I thought waiting for ovulation was hard... I can't wait to start seeing changes and I can't wait at all to start feeling my baby and talking to it, because I will all the time I know, and just wow. Wow.

That's all for now.

My Stupid Cycle

This is driving me nuts. Here's my chart for my last complete cycle:

My waking times are typically all over the place, and as you can see, so are my temperatures. Also, Fertility Friend is whack, because I'm pretty sure that I actually ovulated somewhere between cycle days 19 and 22, and that my luteal phase isn't 19 days long,  but who knows. (Please ignore the pathetic frequency with which I actually manage to have sex.)

Anyway, in an effort to understand what the hell is going on here, this go round I'm waking up at the same goddamned time every day (4:45 and it suck when it's unecessary, let me tell you) so that I can get an accurate look at things. Here's what I've got so far:

It looks better, I guess. I had some pretty intense cramping on the 17th, which I'm guessing was ovulation pain, but who the fuck knows at this point. Also, what the hell is going on with my cervical fluid. I thought charting was supposed to  help me, but honestly, I don't have a clue what's going on. I really wish I could get pregnant already so I could stop worrying about this shit, but now I'm wondering if the reason my charts are so bizarre is because I have underlying fertility problems. Wouldn't that be just awesome.

I have a couple ovulation predictor kits that BFF gave me because she had them for who knows why and didn't need them, so I think I might use them next cycle, not to help achieve pregnancy, necessarily, but really just to make sure that I am in fact ovulating, and when.

I really hate this shit. Sorry for the TMI.

Oh, disappointment...

So far, two negative pregnancy tests. I don't know that this really means anything, as I am only 12 days past ovulation, that is, if I actually ovulated at all. Who knows. Since I haven't had a regular cycle in oh, seven years or so, I don't know how long mine is, or when I should be expecting my period, so I suppose I will just keep testing everyday until I get a positive or start bleeding.

For the couple days before I started testing I was so sure that I would be, and now... I'm thinking no way. Logically I know that nothing has changed and I still could be and its so early and I could wake up tomorrow and get a positive... but I'm not feeling optimistic.



I would really like to know something in the next two days, though. Good news or bad. I'm going down with my parents and BFF to sister's college graduation, and I really don't want to be in this limbo while I'm on vacation. For one, I wouldn't have to abstain from all the fun (read: alcohol), or at least I would have a good reason to do so. It will come in to question, I am sure, and I don't want to have to tell my family that I could be pregnant and it is too early to tell, because that is a can of worms that just doesn't need to be explored.

I'm not sure what the plan is for the weekend if I don't find anything out before I leave. I'd like to keep testing throughout, but I'm not sure how I feel about the logistics of this in sister's tiny apartment. And if I get good news, well... do I wait to tell husband in person and then maybe he isn't the first to know? Do I call him? Do I try to keep it a secret? (Clearly, no, since I am terrible at secrets.) I don't know. I asked husband what he wanted me to do and he said he doesn't mind if I have to call him or if someone else finds out first, but I have this romantic vision of it all. I'll probably bring a ton of tests with me and decide when I get there. Or maybe I will find out tomorrow. God, I hope so.



Honestly, it surprises me how badly I feel about possibly not being pregnant. We certainly weren't "trying," and really, the timing for me is less than ideal. I thought I knew how badly I wanted this, but even I am shocked by my longing. Earlier I was looking at Facebook pictures of husband's friend's month-old twins and just... I can't even put it into words.

Please please please please please.

It took me three hours to write this post.

I may be the only one, but I am so glad that the holiday weekend is over. Between working in retail, and my sister being in town, I am absolutely exhausted, and I am completely relieved that it's Tuesday and I can have a day off.

This weekend has been big events! On Saturday husband and I had sex for the first time post-IUD removal. Kind of a big deal, considering I've spent the last seven years taking all sorts of measures to avoid pregnancy.  I had long imagined that having truly unprotected sex for the first time ever would be somewhere in the realm of terrifying, and that I would probably cry, since I tend to cry, well, about everything. But, no. There may have been a smirk, but definitely no tears.

The weather has been dreary lately. Mayvember, we were calling it. My dad cooked us (me, husband, sister, BFF, her fiancé, our other best friend, her boy friend, himself, and my mother) a full Thanksgiving dinner on Sunday night. Amazing. And even better when it is absent the drama and fake religion and bullshit of whatever extended family you are obligated to see and be on your best behavior for. This was just wonderful. My favorite people and the best food and several bottles of champagne and a rowdy and raucous evening, filled with very inappropriate table conversation. These people are my true family. Don't get me wrong, I do love my aunts and uncles and cousins and what-have-you, but with them there are huge chunks of my person that must be suppressed, and God, does that get tiresome quickly.

Anyway. At some point during the meal I excused myself to go to the bathroom. And by excused myself I mean I probably unpolitely announced that "I HAVE TO PEE!" and galumphed out of the room, but who can really remember. Champagne, you know. In the bathroom I was greeted with a revelation between my legs. Behold, fertile quality eggwhite cervical mucus. The first time I have experienced such things when I would actually be able to recognize them, and Oh. My. God. I had a moment in the bathroom with myself. Adding it all up... no birth control... sex last night... fertility... HOLY SHIT!  So I quietly return to the table, and whisper the contents of my underpants to BFF, who was seated beside me. And as the rest of the table was tipsy and boisterous, no one really noticed our not-so-quiet discussion of possible impending pregnancy.

I'm not entirely sure how I feel about this.  I started taking prenatal vitamins yesterday,  but possible conception didn't keep me from a couple of vodka tonics when we went out for karaoke last night. Hopefully that doesn't come back to bite me in the ass. How bizarre would it be for me to get pregnant the first time I've ever had unprotected sex? I'd feel like some awful statistic from some 90s teen magazine. Also, how the hell am I going to wait out these next two weeks until I can find out what the hell is going on?

A brief history of my reproductive life

The 1980s:  Somewhere around age 3 or 4 I told my mother that I was going to have 100 babies; 50 boys and 50 girls, obviously. She talked me down to ten, five of each sex.

First Grade: One day we were supposed to come to school dressed up as what we wanted to be when we grew up. There were lots of artists and baseball players. I think I was a ballerina. I remember scoffing at the girl who dressed up as a mommy, because lol at her for having no further career aspirations.

Middle & High School: I was pretty sure I was going to have kids someday, because that is what people do. However, any daydreaming I did about my future was completely absent of offspring. Sometimes I was a lawyer driving a fancy car; or I was an anthropologist in Italy, digging up the rest of the ruins of Pompeii.

June 2003: Lose virginity. Immediately get on the pill. Have a lot of bad teenage sex.

May 2004: Fall in love with husband on the internet from a million miles away. Briefly I am horrified when I assume that he is probably childfree. Cry. He assures me that this is not the case.

August 19, 2004: Husband came to visit me for the first time. He is perfect. And my mother likes him.

December 2004: Husband comes to visit me for the second time. This is the third weekend we've ever spent together. He tells me he thinks he is going to marry me. I swoon. I imagine how beautiful and amazing our (1/4 Japanese) babies will be.

2005: I think about having babies with Husband a lot. I am paranoid that I will subconsciously sabotage my birth control. Look into more effective options.

January 2006: Husband moves to Seattle to be with me. We move in together. Things are less amazing than I imagined they would be.

February 2006: Have IUD inserted. Husband and I agree that we will start making babies when it is scheduled to be removed in 2011. I want to be married for a few years before I have babies, so I hope to get married by the summer of 2007. Start bugging husband about marriage. We adopt kittens. Husband is adorable when he cuddles and baby talks to them. I imagine how even more adorable he will be as a father. Daydream a lot about our babies.

August 2007: Husband and I are still not married. Not even engaged. Husband has changed a lot in moving to Seattle, and is not sure anymore that he wants to get married any time soon. We fight a lot. After several months of thing clearly not working we break up. I move out. We split up the cats.

September 2007: I move into a studio by myself. I've completely stopped thinking about babies, except for occasionally wondering how I am going to have them before I am 40 if I don't even have a boyfriend, much less a husband yet. But there is no longing, no burning desire, no constant brain takeover anymore.

December 2007: Husband I reconnect; he misses me. We go on a date, but I want to be sure he's serious. We plan to officially get back together when he comes home from spending the holidays with his family in Ohio.

January 2008: I pick husband up at the airport and bring him back to my place for lunch. I ask him how soon we can get married. He agrees to "now." I confirm that we can still have babies on the original scheduled we had agreed to when he first moved here. We are engaged! Everything is rainbows and unicorns.

July 24, 2008:

January 2009: I decide that I will spend 2010 "getting ready" to get pregnant. This will include taking out my nipple ring to let that ish heal before I have to breastfeed, getting my IUD removed, and cutting my caffeine consumption. I start buying baby books. BFF gets on the baby-train with me and we talk about it ALL. THE. TIME.

August 2009: Start asking husband "Can we have a baby?" pretty much every other day. At least. Ask him all the time what he thinks of various possible baby names. He thinks I am crazy.

January 1, 2010:  Take nipple ring out, right on schedule. I am sad, but not that sad.

Early 2010: Suddenly realize that baby-making time isn't in the distant future anymore. Commence internal freak-out. Bug husband about babies a lot less. Avoid making an appointment for my IUD removal. Change subject every time BFF brings it up, which is all the time. She thinks I am being weird.

April 2010: Come to terms with the whole baby-happening-soon thing. Now that I'm okay with it, I don't want to have to wait any longer. WANT BABY NOW. Try and convince husband to move up baby-makin' date. Only manage a month.

May 2010: Apparently everyone I know is having a baby. BFF just found out she is pregnant, too. Husband thinks I am just jealous, but I am not. I am happy for them, but I am so so so sad that I am not in their company. I can't think of anything other than having a baby. It's in my head all. the. time. Make appointment to (finally) get IUD removed.

...


So I got it out today. Welcome back to fertility for the first time since age seventeen! But the biggest victory came a couple days ago. After a couple really tearful (on my part) conversations about how badly I want to have a baby, and how I can't think about anything else, and how I am so tired of waiting, and how the seven months until December seems like eternity, husband agreed to change The Plan.

So instead of condoms or whatever-the-fuck we were going to use at birth control now that my lovely uterine friend is gone we are going to just let nature take it's course. Because, as I mentioned to husband, we probably won't get pregnant anyway, considering how rarely we manage to actually have sex. And if nothing happens by, say, October, I guess we'll actually start trying.

Basically I am dying of happiness. Rainbows and unicorns, people! I'm trying really hard not to bombard husband with baby talk because he is being so accommodating, but it's all I want to talk about, because hi! I am fertile again! I could ovulate at any moment! BAAAAAAABIEEEES!!! Yeah.

Hello

Hi, Blog!

I am A, nice to meet you. So it's been a long time since the days of LiveJournal and the high school attention-whoring that I participated in there, but I thought it was time again. I am kind of a scientist, I guess, in the sense that I dropped out of college where I was studying biology, and I own my own microscope and I like to catch insects and put them on pins and identify and label them and keep them in well organized boxes. So basically not really.

So I may in fact write about my science-related interests, but honestly it will probably be a lot of me waxing poetic on how much I want a baby. (I reallyreallyreally want to have a baby, by the way.) But still, I didn't want this to have some horrible, vomit-inducing, cutesy baby-blog name, so yeah. Making a baby is kind of an experiment in biology and psychological development and all sorts of things, right? Maybe.

But anyway, perhaps I should complete my introduction post by actually introducing myself. live in Seattle, and I am going to be 25 this year. I didn't quite finish my Bio degree because I realized I didn't really want to make a career out of it, even though I love it as a bug-catching kind of hobby. I work full time in retail, but not the selling part of it. I am a visual merchandiser--think mannequin styling and window dressing, and other such beautiful things. I am a little bit crazy, and I mean that in a good, but still serious way.

Here are some people that will probably be recurring characters in my blog:

Husband: I married my beautiful amazing husband in the summer of 2008. He hails from Ohio. We met online (clearly!) when I was still in high school, and finally met in 2004. He moved here to be with me in 2006, we adopted three cats, and the rest of history. Well, at least with some fun break-up type bumps in the road on the way there. Husband is a unique combination of nerd and athlete, but he is more multi-faceted than just that. He wants to have babies too, but he is a little more freaked out about the actual reality of them, so we're working on it.

BFF: My best friend, obv. We started using all these internet acronyms and abbreviations ironically, but they kind of stuck and I'm not sure it's ironic anymore, but I'm not really embarrassed either. We are in a lot of ways on the same wavelength regarding BAAAAABIIIEESSS!!!! She is getting married this July, and she just found out she is pregnant (OMG!), but shh, don't tell anyone, as it's still new news, so still a secret. I am very happy for her, but also kind of a little jealous. And by a little I mean a lot. But whatev, I am excited to be an auntie soon.

Sister: My baby (well, three years younger) sister. She is my best friend also, but in quite a different way than BFF. (Actually we are collectively besties altogether.) She is probably the only person in the entire world that truly understands me. Our brains work in the same really bizarre way, and when we are together we can be our truly crazy selves. Sister is amazing and magical. She is graduating from college soon, and then she will be moving to France for a job in the fall. Her job is only nine months in duration, but I wouldn't be surprised if she figured out a way to extend it, and lives there forever. I would miss her, but then I will have somewhere cool to visit. She is not baby crazy like me and BFF, but she works in an infant daycare and really is excited for me to have one so she can be a tante (Dutch for aunt, of course--did I not mention that we are Dutch (half) and really into it).

Um, so I'm not a super social girl, I guess, and these are really the three major people in my life. I hang out with other friends and such periodically, but I guess they will be introduced as we meet them.

Ok, that's all you need to know for now, I think. Some content soon, I hope.