35 (almost 36) weeks.
Wrapping up week 35 and I feel slightly (and I emphasize *slightly*) more patient about waiting for the impending arrival of our little nugget. A little nugget who is, as far as I estimate, not much of a little nugget anymore. Maybe more of a 35 lb. kid with really long legs who thinks is pretty humorous to stick his feet into my lungs to see how long mommy can last with no air flow. Water retention are causing my cankles to take front and center in the Christina Pregnancy Show. Nothing like the oohs and aaahhhs you can get when showing off to others the impressive indentations that can be made by an ordinary pair of flip flops. To be frank, they are hobbit feet. It’s just – wrong.
Regularly scheduled visits to the OB are becoming more frequent – moving from every two weeks to every single week. No matter how many times I mention it, Chauncey seems pretty disinterested in entertaining a conversation with me about possibly inducing/scheduling a C-section/materializing my baby a la Star Trek, so I’m trying to be okay with the variables that are up in the air at this point. Those variables including, well, everything.
All in all, I have to admit I’m wrapping up a pretty text book pregnancy at this point. Back for the hospital is packed. Baby clothes washed, folded, put away. Nursery assembled. Baby accessories assembled and dozens of batteries have been purchased to keep them operational for weeks/months to come. I think we’re ready.
34 weeks.
Three weeks since my last pregnancy update – geesh, I haven’t even birthed my child yet and already I feel like a bad parent.
The past few weeks have had a few monumental moments. We had a nurse at an OB check up who felt the need to blurt out my weight, despite the fact that I had just finished explaining to her that I had no interest in hearing an update. In fact, I haven’t actually weighed myself since the mid ’90′s so it was particularly traumatizing to hear that big ole number for the first time at 32 weeks pregnant after 6 months of eating cupcakes, bacon, and ice cream like it was going out of style. Talk about a self esteem squasher. If it were logistically possible, I would have headed straight home to curl up in the fetal position and rock myself to sleep, however, I’ve long since lost the ability to maneuver contortionist moves such as that and settled for plopping down on the couch with a bag of chips to contemplate me cankles.
The following week I mustered up some of my former self esteem and wandered into the maternity section once again to contemplate the purchase of a maternity tankini for our upcoming weekend at Lake Anna. Having decided against it, we headed out for the weekend suit-less with plans to watch everyone frolic in the sea from a safe distance on the boat. However, upon reaching said boat and realizing it was approximately 200 degrees outside, I made an executive decision to purchase a mismatched, undersized bikini in the bait shop in the marina (and said goodbye to my last shred of dignity) before cannonballing into the water right along side the rest of the group. And I must admit, I have no regrets. Granted, I very likely looked like a beached whale floating on a life preserver, but it felt damn good. As far as I know, all cameras were left at the dock, so I don’t believe there will be any incriminating photos haunting me. Bonus.
Rounding out that same weekend was the baby shower which Marirosa and June graciously hosted on my behalf. It was a great time and really set the stage for our impending arrival. Putting together the baby swing when we got home really reminded me that this whole labor and delivery shenanigan is right around the corner. On one hand I am obviously nervous – specifically upon hearing that Benji is measure two weeks larger than he should be right now (eeks!). On the other hand, I am pretty much over this cute little pregnancy waddle and am ready to serve up the little man’s eviction notice. I have to imagine those adorable little baby feet will be that much cuter when they aren’t lodged in my rib cage.
31 weeks.
A quick trip to Target this weekend to buy a few new T-shirts that actually stretch over the entirety of my belly confirmed, yet again, that I’m only getting bigger at this point. While I am sure this will be the mantra of the duration of my poor kid’s existence, I cannot believe how quickly time is passing. The countdown has brought us into the single digits at this point – only 9 more weeks to go (or less, if I’m lucky). Sheezus.
We finally bought the crib mattress this weekend (same trip to Target) and put the sheets on and the bumper – it looks cute and it’s kind of crazy to see the nursery starting to take shape. The baby shower is right around the corner as well, which means eating a lot of tres leches cake before sorting through what we have, buying what we still need, assembling everything, and whatever else comes with this nesting instinct that is starting to kick in (although sporadically at this point).
In no time at all I am officially going to be a mommy. How crazy is that?!?
29 weeks.
Despite the fact that we have had the nursery put together for months now, it seemed like a good time to share a picture of the theme we have decided to use for the room. (It was either that, or post the only pictures we have of me and the belly in my 29th week - rolling around on the floor like a beached whale, complaining about what a cow I am -so I figured I would spare you the visual. )
Finding acceptable baby bedding and furniture was more difficult than I expected. Actually, finding most anything baby related in an acceptable style has been a bit of a challenge. Something about babies lends designers to produce clothes and blankets and what have you in varying pastel shades which applique bunnies and dump trucks and giraffes emblazoned all over them. Gag. Over the past few months, I have been collecting anything deemed “normal” whenever I see it – no washed out colors, no felt puppy dogs, just normal, little boy clothes. So when you look in Benji’s closet and see that he already has a wardrobe spanning the next 4 seasons that looks like mini versions of the same items his dad wears, this would be why. We’re stocking up on normal in the Kozlowski household.
28 weeks.
Tick tock. Tick tock. As much as the time has just been flying by since we first began this journey, I am just bursting at the seams to meet our little boy – literally and figuratively. This week was pretty big, as we went in for our last ultrasound, this one being the 3D/4D. Matt was nervous, as usual, and I can’t really say that I felt just as jittery - just sort of anxious to seem him on the big screen again. After all, it has been two months since the 20 week screening and I was curious to see how much he has grown – perhaps, in part, to make sure it’s not just *me* that is doing the growing here.
As has been the case thus far, Benji chose not to cooperate with our technician so it took a bit longer than usual to get the right angles and, even at that, they are kind of sketchy. Apparently he has flipped back over (no longer breach – i.e. Christina is going to have to do some serious sweet talking to the OB if we are going to get a scheduled C-section) and he has his head buried in the far right corner of my uterus. Now, I will say that our appointment was fairly early in the day and, if he is anything like me, maybe he is just not a morning person. Either way, he did everything he could to avoid the paparazzi.
So, without further ado, I introduce the little man…
27 weeks.
According to the weekly pregnancy updates I get via email, Benji is now about 14 or so inches long and weighing in at 2 lbs (the weight of a head of cauliflower). Trust me, I am feeling it. While I know I am only going to get bigger from this point forward, the little man is making me work for it, let me tell you. Simple things like walking up the stairs have me red faced and winded in 2 minutes flat (but who am I kidding, I have been taking the elevator whenever possible for a few months now). Rolling over in bed or getting up when I’ve been sitting down now register an audible grunt and are starting to require gathering a little momentum to get me going.
Matt and I stopped by another daycare this morning and really liked it. Well, as much as one can like a facility full of strangers that are paid a ridiculous amount of money to watch your little man sleep, eat, and poop. On the upside, the fact that it is called “something or other country day school” makes it sound a little more important, like it’s almost worth the equivalent of a second mortgage payment. Either way, the girl that gave us the tour was also pregnant with a boy, but only 6 weeks from her due date. She kept pausing to take a breath (apparently he was crowding her lungs) in between dissertations about the benefits of warming bottles in a Crock Pot and proper sanitizing of the toys. As much as I was trying to maintain eye contact and actually listen to what she had to say, my attention kept wandering back to the roomful of adorable drooling little babies and I got excited all over again to finally meet Benji. Three months seems right around the corner but, at moments like that, it feels like eons away.
26 weeks.
I picked up What to Expect When You Are Expecting again (shelved it months ago when I got to the labor and delivery parts – seemed so far off it was nearly irrlevant). Ugh. Matt says I should stop reading the pregnancy books because they make me grumpy. It’s hard to swallow though – reading lists of ways that my body will change in irrepairable ways, things I should buy because we’ll need them, things I shouldn’t buy because we’ll never use them, to breastfeed, not to breastfeed…phew! Gives me a headache just thinking about it. So, based on the recommendation of a friend, I dragged Matt to Borders with me and picked up two new books, this time on parenting. From what I gather they are more frank, sarcastic, and comical than they are play books for perfect children, which may be exactly what I need to shift gears from worrying about laboring this child to remembering how fun it is all going to undoubtedly be in the end. (Can you tell I’m getting a little nervous as the coundown to the third – and final – trimester begins?)
All in all, I’m feeling pretty good and I have nothing much to complain about in the way of pregnancy symptoms. Aside from a few minor irritations, like an ever expanding caboose and feet that are only comfortable in flip flops, my second trimester has been kind to me. Benji gets more active every day, but I am starting notice that he is on a pretty predictable schedule with the napping and the tap dancing. I can’t really lay on my back anymore because it is getting to be too much weight on my spine, and I can tell he doesn’t like it because he actually gets a little fussy and calms down when I roll onto my side or make some other sort of acceptable adjustment.
In two weeks (the start of the third trimester) we go in for the 3D/4D ultrasound and the standard glucose testing. God I hope I don’t randomly develop gestational diabetes – vanilla ice cream and rainbow sprinkles are my friend and I don’t think I’m willing to voluntarily give them up right now. This week, on Wednesday, we stop by a local day care/nursery school to see if it looks like the kind of place to stash your three month old baby when you’re forced to go back to work and leave him in the hands of random strangers. The lady I spoke to on the phone was very nice, which softened the blow a bit when I realized how much day care expenses are going to run on a weekly basis. It’s amazing how much money it costs to have someone feed, burp, and change a baby on your behalf.
24 weeks.
With the wedding out of the way, life seems to be settling down a bit. Probably a blessing, as I imagine things are going to get hectic all over again once Benji is born. Only 16 weeks to go at this point. Hard to believe so much time has passed since we found out I was pregnant. Last January feels worlds away, but just the other day at the same time.
I had my monthly visit with the (new) OB this week and I am still happy with the decision to change practices. I feel so much more comfortable with this group – and they explain a lot more to me than my previous doctor did, which helps me feel a little more in control of a situation I really have no control over (and am virtually clueless about). During this visit they began meauring the size of my belly and, evidentally, this will be standard practice going forward. According to a friend of mine, you generally grow a centimeter a week until you deliver. I am measuring at 25 centimeters right now and I have a really hard time getting my head around the fact that I have – what? – another 16 centimeters to go?? I am going to be a house. I scheduled my glucose screen on my way out the door and am already dreading the 8:00 AM appointment. I am not too pleasant in the mornings these days. 
23 weeks.
According to my weekly email newsletter from babycenter.com, Benji is now about 12 inches long and roughly 1 lb. (the size of a large mango). Although, in my world, if the growing size of my butt is any indicator, he must be at least 37-38 lbs by now. About a week or two ago I started to feel him kick and move around. At first, it was hit or miss and he didn’t appear to be on any particular schedule. He would just randomly appear from time to time and conduct a round of some very skilled ninja moves right in middle of my lower belly for a few minutes and then vanish as quickly as he came. Now he is pretty regular in making his presence known but I have to admit, as strange as it feels sometimes, I start to panic if I haven’t felt him in a while and immediately begin to wonder if he is doing okay in there. Now that the wedding is out of the way, our next big milestone is having the little guy in September and Matt and I are both anxious for that day to get here. I wonder what he is going to be like – if he is going to be feisty and head strong like his mommy or laid back and accommodating like his dad. Hopefully he gets his dad’s height, because at a towering 5’3″, I’m really not much help in that department.
On a sobering note, my own dad goes in for some heart surgery today. Matt said it is called a catheterization (sp?), but basically they go in through his leg to scope out his heart and make repairs (via stent) as necessary. Heart disease runs in that side of my family, as my grandfather has had a quadruple bypass and any number of additional work done in his chest over the past decade, but it worries me when these signs start to creep up on my father, especially as he is states away. He has been in the hospital at University of Michigan since Saturday afternoon and, if all goes well today, should be back home before the week is over. I spoke to him this morning and he seemed cheerful and positive, albeit it stir crazy and ready to get the hell out of the hospital. I can’t say I blame him. I am expecting a call from Kathy this afternoon to let me know how everything goes. Fingers crossed.
[Insert new hard-to-pronounce last name]
As of Saturday morning, it is officially official – Matt and I have tied the knot. After a week of watching the Weather Channel and fretting over the forecasted rain and thunderstorms, we managed to make it through an outdoor wedding and a party thereafter without much more than a sprinkle (although I can’t say the same for the rest of the weekend).
I have seen a handful of the pictures – candids from Dad (aka Quick Draw McGraw, hence why our eyes alre closed in 90% of his shots ;) and some professional exposures from our amazing photographer and dear friend, Marirosa (www.photographybymarirosa.com). The full album has been uploaded to Flickr and I am posting more every day (as I get my hands on them).
