I'm back, baby!

I've finally purchased a new laptop - I can blog at home again!  YAY!  I'm pretty excited about this purchase - it's a great computer, and it was extremely affordable.  It'll be nice to have a working computer in the house again - my Kindle has done a great job keeping me connected to the internet, but it doesn't replace a laptop. 

Thanksgiving was wonderful and exhausting all at once.  We spent the day getting ready and making a sweet potato casserole (why can I never remember that sweet potatoes leak?  You have to put something under them, Natalie, or they'll spooge all over your oven!), then headed for his cousin's house around 3.  They had an amazing, delicious spread, and I ate until my little heart was content.  (And then Laura Jo and I went for a walk, because I was going to die if I didn't get some of that food settled.)  I missed out on eating pie because I was too full, but Tracy was kind enough to send some home with us - a piece of apple and pecan.  Two days later, it's still in the kitchen waiting for me, but today may just be the day. 

Our evening was spent over at my Aunt Melissa's, where we played cards and perused Black Friday ads until one in the morning, at which point I was completely wiped out and finished and told Jimi, "We have to leave NOW."  Pam said I was getting grouchy - I wasn't grouchy, I was just done.  I'd socialized as much as I was physically able to socialize, and I needed my bed. 

I feel as though I've officially been welcomed into the world of Motherhood.  Jimi's cousins' wived descended upon me as soon as we arrived and started asking questions about my pregnancy and birth plans, and regaled me for hours with their birth stories and experienced mom-talk.  My aunts did the same.  It was a noticeable change - usually we all exchange pleasantries and catch up, then I flit around from group to group, mostly following Jimi around and talking to the menfolk.  Not this year - I was stuck to my seat as my birth preferences were questioned and doubted and poo-poo'd, as horrible scary NICU stories were told, as tales of mastitis and clogged ducts were shared.  If I never hear "Just wait and see - you'll change your mind" again, it'll be too soon.  I heard that on every subject - especially when I made the mistake of admitting I'm aiming for an unmedicated childbirth.  (Cloth diapering got its fair share of laughs, too.)  Why do we (women) do that to each other?  Experienced moms should know better than anyone how scary this time can be for a new mother.  I'm looking for support and encouragement and advice, and instead I get a snicker and a pat on the head as if I'm a fool for thinking I can do this any way other than on my back with a needle in my spine. 

I don't mean to bitch, I know their intentions are just to share their experiences.  I reminded myself over and over again that my pregnancy bares no resemblance to theirs - no scares, no bed rest, no complications for me, so far.  (Fingers crossed it stays that way.)  As I told them, this has been the easiest, most uncomplicated thing I've ever done, and that's completely contrary to what I expected.  If my body can handle pregnancy this well, I'm inclined to trust that birth is something it can handle well, also.  I trust my body, and I honestly feel that an unmedicated birth is the way it's supposed to happen, and that if I let it, my body can do this on its own.  I am not crazy for thinking this way, dammit!  Women birthed babies this way for thousands of years before doctors started strapping them to tables on their backs.  I can do this, and not because I'm a martyr or tough or want bragging rights, but because it's the way nature intended and I don't see any reason to fix what ain't broke. 

Okay, I'm off my soapbox. 

We're going shopping today for fabric and paint for baby girl's room, and planning to start her room transformation tomorrow.  I need drawer pulls and switch plates and a colorful rug.  I can't wait to watch this room come together; I can't wait to fill it with diapers and onsies and soft things for my daughter. 

My daughter.  If I think on those words just a second longer than it takes to say them, my eyes get misty.  I love her so much already.  It still fills me with a sense of disbelief that this is all happening to ME!  I have a big ol' round belly full of baby.  I can feel her flip and flop and kick and punch.  I've dreamed of and imagined this for so long, and now it is my reality, and that just blows my mind.  I'll never stop being in awe of this miracle we've created. 

Speaking of my big ol' round belly full of baby, clothing options are becoming more and more limited by the day.  It's still not awful - one day last week I wore and outfit comprised completely of pre-pregnancy clothes; proof that Jimi and Kim may be onto something when they say I buy my clothes in too-large sizes.  I'm still wearing two pair of pre-pregnancy pants, but they hardly count, as they're designed to be stretchy, what with their elastic waistbands and and polyester blends.  I have two pre-pregnancy sweaters that I wish I could wear every day, but the rest are too short now and don't fully cover my belly.  I've got a great flowy red shirt that's not maternity but totally could've been, so it's worked into the rotation regularly.  I had a couple of button-ups that still fit two weeks ago, but I fear that will not be the case the next time I try them on - the buttons were a bit strained last time I wore them.  Momma's bought me two maternity shirts (but I hate one - don't tell her - it is too low-cut and doesn't completely cover my dumb ol' bras) and I am now the proud owner of one pair of big-front-stretchy-panel jeans (that are actually really cute so long as you're not checking out the stretchy panel) and two pair of maternity yoga pants, which are going on the list of "Things That Prove God Loves Us".  I'm going to have to break down and buy some more long-sleeved warm shirts, but I think I'm going to be able to make my britches situation work until the very end.  I don't know what I'm going to do about a coat - mine still zipped last week, but that won't last much longer.  I'm not buying a new one, so I guess I'll just have to  hold it closed and hurry from the car to the office. 

Baby showers are being planned - looks like we're having two back-to-back in January, one hosted by the infamously sweet Maggie, the other by my Aunts.  (Stay put, little girl - no early appearances, okay?  I'd hate to miss a party thrown in our honor!)  Momma & Daddy are buying the crib (sort of a family tradition - Granny and Papaw bought the cribs for nearly all of their grandbabies), and Stacy and Jessie are passing down to us tons of baby things, so we won't have to register for a lot of big items.  (That hasn't stopped my wonderful research-driven husband from registering us for a $300+ stroller, though.  I fully expect we'll be purchasing that one on our own.)  I've been told we should start registries EVERYWHERE, as apparently there are tons of freebies and goodies given out for doing so, and plus, using that little scanner gun is fun.  I guess we need to get going on that pretty soon. 

It's all happening so very fast.  That second pink line showed up in June and it felt like it'd be forever before I had a symptom or a sign that it was real.  Now all I can think is "how will we get this all done in only 12.5 weeks?!" 

My left leg is starting to ache.  I think it's the way I'm sitting in this chair; I should probably get up and do some yoga stretches.  My hips hurt all the time - and what's up with the sore knees?  I sound like an old woman trying to get up or down into a seat, and getting out of bed the half-dozen times now required each night is an acrobatic feat.  Poor Jimi - he's sleeping on a sliver of mattress, pushed all the way to the edge by my belly and its accompanying island of pillows.  He's said that he'll need to break out the camping mattress any day now - his plan is to sleep there, with it pushed up next to our bed, so I can have the space I need to be comfortable.  I hate the idea of him being exiled from his bed, but I love him for understanding that drastic measures may be required some time in the next couple months. 

He's just the best man in the whole world.  I can't express enough how good and sweet he is, how loved and adored and appreciated and special he makes me feel.  We've been carpooling for the last two months or so because his truck is down, and when we get home each evening, I head for the heating pad while he stops in the kitchen and begins making dinner.  He's pulling more than his weight when it comes to household chores and cleaning, and encourages me to rest and take breaks when we're working on projects together.  He's a dream partner in this pregnancy, and I feel so fortunate that I have have him by my side. 

(Sometimes I find myself shuddering inside, imagining how my ex-husband would've compared, had we managed to get pregnant in those months that we tried.  I really dodged a bullet, man.) 

Okay, gotta go, it's shopping time.

(I'm so glad I made this purchase - it's good to be back to my blah blah blahing.  I want to have a record of this experience - I mean, it's only the neatest thing I've ever done.  Ever.)

Be Back Soon...