24 weeks 6 days

Trekked to Columbia this morning for our first appointment with Dr. Grant (Fetal Specialist Extraordinaire - I'm sure it says that on his card somewhere) in a month. We were used to visiting him every two weeks, so it was nice to get a bit more of a break. Don't get me wrong, we absolutely love him as a doc and we love getting to see our little bebe so much, but the hour drive does tend to wear on us. She is developing beautifully and has almost doubled her weight since December 1st - She's up to 1 lb. 13oz. now. 80th percentile. Please, baby jesus, don't let this be a 10lb. baby. Ever since seeing a woman deliver an almost 11-pounder on Lifetime the other night, I can't get those images out of my head. Maybe she's just carrying a little bit of holiday weight?? Regardless, she looks very good and was, as usual, putting on a nice little song and dance for us.


Got the news that we will be delivering in Columbia, as our regular (and equally fab) OB will be moving all of his deliveries there as of March 1st. We're sad and happy about this; sad because it means an hour drive and lots more preparation (including possible induction), happy because we'll be in a more resourceful center if she does need any extra attention. And she may. We're reminded every time we see Dr. Grant that this isn't a normal pregnancy. Since losing the other twin and dealing with that grief, Shawn and I have really tried to focus on our one healthy baby, but there are still risks because of what's happened. I'm at a slightly upped chance for preterm delivery, and a greater risk for birth complications. I try not to think of that, though. Here's what I think of instead:

Smiling baby with a strong jaw and chubby cheeks! 

She'sa gonna be a Socca' Playa'!

This child obviously thinks it's funny to kick her mother. Already, she is violent. Either that, or her neurons are connecting as they should be. We'll go with that conclusion. Yay for myelination! (Yes, I know that's nerdy.)


Either way, she's a mover. And a shaker. And a kicker. Sometimes this gets to the point when mommy must stop what she's doing for a loud "oomph!" Anyway, what better way to spend a day, getting kicked around by a fetus?


Life is really good right now. Even with the stress of the holidays (which I'm not actually feeling all that much), life is really good right now. I'm enjoying the second trimester bliss, being able to work on my own schedule, seeing my husband every morning and evening, and taking NAPS. I LOVE NAPS. Especially now. If only the little tiny dancer would let me sleep...

23 weeks!

A Happy Hyperventilation

I momentarily lost it last night. Shawn and I were sitting on our respective couches, I was grading (half-assedly, I should say) while watching Modern Family. At the end of the episode, the patriarch Jay (who emulates the Grinch throughout the episode) has snow blown onto the lawn of his daughter and son-in-law's home and the entire family goes out to play in said snow. In California. It's a nice thought.


Cue the montage-y scenes of the family laughing and throwing snowballs, building snowmen and....here's where I lost it....making snow angels.

Cam and Lily (father and toddler daughter) were there, lying in the snow, arms and legs outstretched, sweeping the ground in the most old-fashioned of ways. All of a sudden, I realized that, very soon, I too will have a daughter to watch sweep her sweet little limbs through white powder.

It's not that I'm just realizing we're having a baby. I've been on board with that for quite some time. But this will not always be a baby. She will be a person, a real little person, for whom I will be the one to keep her happiness, her ideas of the world, her thoughts of life and love. She will do things like craft projects and snow angels. She will make mistakes and tell me she hates me because I won't let her listen to country music because of the misogynistic messages (I'm just assuming).


All of these thoughts began intruding my mind and I lost my breath. It literally felt like I couldn't find it anymore. When Shawn realized what was happening, he jumped off his couch to come console me. He looked me in the eye and helped me find my breath again. It was almost an eerie forecast of some synchronized breathing we may find ourselves practicing again soon...but I digress.


The strangest thing about it was that I was happy. Panicked, yes. Not being able to breathe presents a problem. However, they were joyful tears running down my face. I am going to be a mother. To a daughter. She will experience, love, learn, grow, and be her own person. But she'll still need a mother to show her how to get off the ground without leaving footprints.

Who will you be? Your mother's daughter, that's who you will be.

Sweet Saturdays

I love lazy Saturday mornings. I love sleeping in until 7 or 7:30 (I know, I'm wild), sitting on the couch with a warm drink (right now wishing it was coffee), browsing online and watching the pups play. Saturdays are the best in the winter because Shawn rarely works on the weekends, so we have these lovely mornings together. 


On the agenda for the rest of the weekend: 
Shawn: working on the entryway project 
Jen: grading papers, cooking a roast tomorrow
Josie: sleeping, roaming outside
Stella: eating, drooling


Happy Sweet Saturday (and Sunday!)

A first timer's post

Oh, what to write for my first post? 

Well, as it is the day after Thanksgiving, perhaps something reflecting a sense of gratitude. 

This year, I have oodles to be thankful for...

A warm home to begin and end the day in, a rewarding career that challenges me daily, friends and family to hold dear, stretchy pants, hot cocoa, DVR, puppy snuggles and playtime,

A husband I just don't seem to tire of

                                   

and our little turkey.