Over 70% done with this pregnancy - how the hell did that happen?

Wow, I am 28 weeks, 4 days. That means there are less than 12 weeks until baby's due date. She will be a full term baby in just under two months. Absolutely crazy.

It has hit me like a freight train. This is no longer a dream, and the baby is no longer so far off in the distance that I can't even imagine her getting here. I started panicking a little on Friday. So we did the things that always make me feel better. We went on a dinner date, bought some crafting supplies and a notebook. I crafted. We wrote the third trimester checklist. It started with cleaning tools and extra junk out of the nursery and goes all the way to packing the hospital bag. 

Now,you're thinking, "girlfriend, you aren't working - how are you not ready?" First I say, touché. But to explain myself a little, I won't feel 100% ready until my little nest is perfect. I'm so happy that my dad completely renovated (like gutted and completely redid) Hartley's/the guest bathroom. However, imagine clearing out a bathroom full of medicine and hygiene products and tossing them in your guest room. Then purchase a vanity and toss that in your guest room. The new tub and toilet get thrown in the nursery. Scatter your upstairs hallway in tools. And that's been our upstairs for the past 6 weeks. 

Every time my off balanced pregnant ass would hop over tools, tiles and random construction materials, I decided my only option was to nest when construction was complete.

Well as of Friday, the bathroom is completely done. Completely gorgeous. Ah, beautiful and less stressful. 

So this weekend began the clean up, begin sorting, begin tossing and donating process. 

I can't figure out how to post photos here for the life of me but I am so incredibly in love with how the nursery looks. I know I'm biased but it is the most adorable nursery I have ever seen in my life. I'm just going to say it, I think I've outdone myself. This was something I literally had dreamt of since we began trying to conceive, and though it's not done, it currently exceeds my dream vision. 

We also had some maternity/fall/early Christmas photos taken this weekend. My friend Erin did them for us, and she did a beautiful job. I love that we have these memories in the form of lovely photos and even a little video. I already have picked one for the Christmas card. I've picked another to print for Hartley's room. 

Yesterday I helped my mom order stuff off my registry for my shower gift. I had her get the crib quilt, nice fitted sheet and nice changing pad cover from The Land Of Nod. Since I did opt to get Hartley some nice/more expensive linens I felt like a snob asking for them from my shower guests. She also bought us the crib mattress. A very nice gift of all things I really wanted and a crib mattress which we obviously really needed. And so many people have bought so many amazing things off the registry. I can't believe how much everyone is spoiling this little girl already! 

I see Hartley again in 8 days. She will likely have surpassed the 3 pound mark by then (I'm guessing she even could by the end of this week). She is no longer "the size of a lemon". She is about 15 inches long, getting close to that 3 pound mark (2 pounds, 10 ounces as of 5 days ago) and looking like a skinny little baby. And let me tell you, this breech little girl is definitely in there. I used to ask Brian, "is she still there?" Let me tell you, when I bend over, when I sit up from laying, when I try to walk really fast - she is definitely in there. And she loves to kick my bladder - loves it. And I look pregnant. If a person can't tell by now, then there might be something wrong with their vision. Both Brian and Winnie love touching the belly. I will be the most awkward pregnant lady ever when I tell you, I 100% do not mind people touching it, I kind of love it. I wish people could feel her kick but for now the kicks are mine and Hartley's little secret. Though I think Winnie has felt a couple! 

This entry has just been random ramble but I will close with the latest third trimester development: insane tiredness. I fall asleep usually between 9:30 and 10, and have been known to sleep until 8. Yes, your favorite insomniac has slept 10 hours a night averaging just one potty break a night. Thank you, third trimester and big baby girl. Don't mind if I do! 

A post I never wrote: the transfer

I was thinking the other day about c sections. Why am I the only first time mom who is 100% not weirded out at the prospect of having a c section? Right now our plan is for me to deliver vaginally but I won't lie, I can't see being disappointed about having to have a c section. I wondered why I was so strange. And then it hit me.

I think as women we idealize a lot of things. We have a way we picture our lives will go. 

One of the biggest challenges during infertility was letting go my dream of conceiving "the normal way". And never having that, "oh wait, I'm late, let me take a pregnancy test" moment. And you want to know the weirdest thing? If I could, I would not change a single thing about how Hartley came to be or how we found out about her. Not a single damn thing.

I realized I never wrote about the transfer (since we kept the date a secret). I wish I had revisited this memory sooner to remember even better but I'm still pretty clear on all of it. So here it goes. Our maybe not so typical but still amazingly beautiful conception of our daughter.

It was Friday, May 24th. The Friday before Memorial Day weekend. We made almost zero plans that weekend so I could stay in bed, even if some people say bed rest after the transfer is a myth, we weren't taking any chances.

We woke up. I made us a special breakfast of pancakes and bacon. I do this every birthday or holiday in our house. I took a nice long shower because I planned not to shower the day after the transfer. I decorated our chalkboard and had Brian take a picture of my bump. Basically a little bloat I was carrying around after several weeks straight of injections preparing my uterus. I had on a little make up (not much because I wanted to be a sterile as possible). I was in my Mason Nation t shirt from when the patriots made the final four and a pair of Boston College sweat pants from one of our Boston trips. 

We left insanely early on purpose. No traffic jam on 66 was going to stop us from getting our baby. In turn, we got there super early. We sat in the waiting room while I held a too full bladder. Minutes felt like hours. My in laws were in Ireland and had forgotten some things they needed to have shipped over. Brian was busy emailing them and figuring out tracking numbers and things. I sat next to him just refreshing Facebook and gmail on my phone. Praying for someone to post an interesting article I could read. No such luck so I looked at the clock just watching time pass.

By the time they called us back, I thought my bladder would explode. Brian then told the nurse he had to pee. He asked if he could go before we got started. The nurse said yes but told me I should've had him hold it out of solidarity. 

We walked back to the "special room". It's a sterile room where special procedures take place. My egg retrieval happened there. We wore special sterile attire. The hospital booties barely fit over Brian's shoes. I laid on the table, my knees slung over the leg holders and a drape hiding my lady parts that everyone had already seen a hundred times. 

The embryologist came in, and gave us the first picture we would ever see of Hartley. 5 days old. An embryo. He said, "hopefully that will be your very first baby picture, kids." Brian and I both teared up. 

It was time to get started. The speculum they use is big. It clicks as it opens you wider and wider, and when it stops clicking it locks into place with the turn of a couple screws. It does hurt. The doctor kept telling me to relax. "Relax. Don't lift you butt, keep it on the table. Relax. Good job." In my head I think I was muttering "fuckity fuck fuck ow". But it locked and I felt like I could finally breath and relax a little.

The doctor sent the nurse to tell the embryologist that I was ready. This is all done very quickly by the way. The embryologist basically runs out of the lab next door, and without any pause they empty a catheter filled with some fluid and little baby Hartley into my uterus. It was so beautiful. I held Brian's hand, and we both watched it happen on the screen. Amazing. Transferring human life into a person's womb. People think this is weird or science fiction shit. But it's really just incredibly amazing and beautiful.

They quickly take the catheter to the lab and inspect it to make sure the embryo is in fact gone.

They turn down the lights and let you lay a little while. Brian was still holding my hand and gave me a sweet kiss. There is a picture of a Parisian street stuck to the ceiling. So random but I remembered looking at the same picture as I drifted to sleep while they extracted eggs. 

I got dressed and we left the room. The doctors and nurses were chatting in the hallway, and they all wished us luck. 

I stared at the picture of Hartley the whole way home. Thinking all sorts of things. Is this our baby? Is it a boy or a girl? Should I tell people what we just did? I wanted to shout it from the rooftop. Instead, Brian and I talked about the baby non stop the whole way home. When we got home we took turns just staring at that picture. 

I got in to bed, where I stayed horizontal all day. Brian worked from home but came up every 30 minutes to check on me. He'd bring me snacks and drinks. I had magazines and tv and comfy sweatpants and was extraordinarily at peace. I felt like she had implanted. I felt all sorts of feelings in my uterus. 

I pretty much stayed in bed all weekend. At the time I wished I had told people so I could've had a visitor or two. But looking back, it was such an amazing weekend. My husband, my dog and I just laying low and hoping to grow our family. I only had to wait 8 days to learn we had.

When people conceive their babies the normal way, it is pretty amazing. But in hindsight, I can't imagine our moment being any more amazing than it was. After all, it was just two people, very much in love, making a baby - just different logistics :)

When you bring a baby into the world it's amazing. Even if it takes different logistics for different people. It's just a happy beginning no matter how it happens.

Today is also a special anniversary. A year ago today was our first meeting with the fertility clinic. I met the doctor who would literally make our baby and make our dreams a reality. What a truly incredible year. 

Hartley, in the words of the rascal flatts, "God blessed the broken road that led me straight to you."

When the daughter becomes a mother.

So I debated writing this blog but I know the chances of my mom reading it are zero.

My entire adult life I've always noticed how tough it seemed to be for my mom to watch me grow up. I think some parents genuinely enjoy watching their children become adults and are overwhelmed with pride as their kids hit adult milestones. I'm not entirely sure that my mom is one of them.

I think she loves me; after all, she is my one and only mom. But I'll never forget my first "adult milestone" of getting married. I don't think she hated my choice of husband. But I think I was young, so in turn, she was a very young mother of the bride, and she might not have been completely ready for it. We shared the same hairdresser, and she told me my mom just felt robbed of me not living at home for the last five months of my engagement that led up to the wedding. 

I would go on to watch others marry and their moms would be overjoyed. I kind of felt robbed that I never really got that feeling from my mom. 

When Brian and I began trying to conceive, my mom was sometimes on board, sometimes not. By the time we got to the fertility clinic, she was on board. She had trouble talking to me about it. It was something she never fully understood because it was so vastly different from her experience. She would often talk about how a bitter infertile neighbor was awful to her because she found herself pregnant on accident... twice. She seemed to lump me in with this bitter woman that was seemingly awful to her, instead of showing empathy. It was tough going through infertility without always feeling like I had a mom to run to. But it also taught me a lot, and I learned more about the type of mother I wanted to become if I ever had a daughter.

When I got pregnant, her reaction wasn't sad, it wasn't particularly happy. It just kind of was what it was. And I knew that's how it would be because it's how my mom is. She had trouble watching us get excited and start to prepare because to her it was too early. I often thought she thought I was going to lose the baby, and it's why she wanted me to slow down with my excitement. And I cried whenever I voiced that out loud to Brian.

She will sporadically call the baby "her baby". Through time, I've concluded is is her coping mechanism. She's going to become a grandma just short of her 52nd birthday. I know that's young, so again it's hard for her. I used to feel so hurt. How did my mom not realize I fought like hell to have my own baby? How does she not know to a woman who needed IVF, it's hard as hell to hear the child I fought so hard for can't even be referred to as mine? But then I remember, as unfair as that if for me, she's having a tough time, too.

At a point, I have to let go of hoping my mom will change and love being a mom to an adult daughter with a baby on the way. I have to realize it's nothing I did wrong. And I can't make her feel and act a way that she doesn't want to.

I am blessed. I have a mother in law who seems always on a mission to help me enjoy is time of my life, and who showed a great deal of empathy during our infertility struggle. Our relationship hasn't always been perfect but somehow her being very maternal to me throughout treatment and pregnancy has really bonded us. And I'll be forever grateful that she and my sister in law are throwing me a fabulous baby shower. Their excitement makes me very happy.

But there is still a piece of me that wishes my mom would be okay with being a 52 year old grandma. That she could be proud of her daughter who didn't have the easiest go at becoming a parent. I hope she becomes one of those women who lovingly talks about how amazing becoming a grandparent is. But at the end of the day, I'm cautious to hold my breath. I'm scared I'll follow that pattern if Hartley decides to become a mom some day (aren't we all trying to avoid becoming our parents only to become more like them each day?).

I needed to write this. I can't change my mom. I can't always change my disappointment in her. But I can write this to remember how it feels. I can write it to hopefully revisit when Hart grows up. Time is brutal. But if I am lucky enough to watch my daughter grow into an adult and become a grandmother myself someday, I need to remember to cherish that time as much as her first steps or first words. Because isn't that what being a mother is? When there are no more bedtime stories to be read or homework help to be given, there's that everlasting lifelong unconditional love and commitment, right?

Loving pregnancy. Really?

So this is going to be in lieu of my 27 week post (27 weeks tomorrow!).

Tomorrow my goal is to not spend time goofing off on my computer. But today is my day of fun so I'm doing it!

Day of fun includes making myself pancakes for breakfast, taking the dogs for a walk with my friend Danielle then going out to lunch together, and tonight going to The Alamo to see Aliens with Brian, my brother and his girlfriend Caroline. Also crazy added bonus, was bumping in to my friend Jill who I had lost touch with over the past couple years! 

Oh and The Alamo? Way to go Ashburn. Not to hate on Ashburn, but I feel like this is the first time they did something spectacular. They just decided to put every other movie theatre in northern Virginia to shame. Boom, Tyson's, you now look like slumming it.

Oh, but what you want to know about is the title. Loving pregnancy. 

So get this, I'm 27 weeks. I'm big. I've got crazy stretch marks. But I FINALLY like pregnancy. I feel so at home in my new body. I am always hungry. Always game for stuffing my face. I haven't thrown up in well over a week. I sleep like you would not believe. I seriously sleep like I'm dead - just put a pillow between my legs and lay me on the bed and I'm done for. My only complaint is that I get a little light headed and dizzy from time to time. I've read that's very typical for this part of pregnancy because the uterus is now so big it's limiting blood flow from the heart to the legs. My simple solution is be lazy and lay around :)

I bought Hartley a couple sweet onesies off the sale rack at baby gap. They look perfect for some snuggling. Oh yes, the two weeks where Brian will be home with us - I've been daydreaming about that. Just hibernating for two weeks and snuggling as a new little family. No sleep but together. 

But I've also been savoring the last bit of couple time we have. Waking up next to my husband, snuggling up close to him and just laying in bed with no baby to tend to. Trail walks together. Baking together. Watching holiday movies together (Thanks, Hallmark channel!) 

Hard to believe later this month we celebrate SEVEN years together. Holy moly. You'd never guess it with the lovey dovey honeymoon vibe going on in our house lately. Our house hasn't had this vibe in quite a while. Maybe it was my husband watching doctors shove wands in my hoohah, getting the "have intercourse tonight" phone call from the nurses, showing us pictures of bloody polyps on my lady parts or a pregnant wife projectile vomiting but we weren't always in a snuggle up with each other mood. I think we both know in a few months the dynamic will never quite be the same so we need to live up our last bit of "just the two of us" time.

I think pregnancy has been on a crazy upswing lately. I know this isn't supposed to last much longer. I've heard the third trimester is the worst. But for this bit... As little or as long as it is... I'm going to enjoy this.

Oh and I'm going to eat! 3 months of crazy eating! Yesterday I even had a craving: ritz crackers with cream cheese and jalapeño jelly spread on top. Yum. Tonight I'm eating fried pickles. Poor Brian has to share with me... Hopefully I can be a good sharer :)

Getting the baptism ball rolling...

That's right, the decision has been made.

I first called the closest Catholic Church to us. It's in a very uppity area. They were.... errrr... as welcoming as a very conservative Catholic Church in a wealthy spot could be? But the lady was nice enough to give me the low down on other churches in the area. She told me about one about 15 minutes from us that has lots of young families and has a more relaxed feel. So I decided to have Brian and I go to mass to try it out last Sunday.

I really liked it. It was very welcoming. They even had an altar girl (1st time I've seen that in a catholic church!) and laminated "follow along with mass" guide in the pews. The homily was great; it was very digestible and a wonderful message about not judging. 

I met with a woman from the church today, and we sat and talked for about an hour. She talked to me about having our marriage validated by the church. She talked to me about having Hartley baptized. She talked to me about the young mother's group; they do moms night out, play groups and bible study. She introduced me to the person who organizes the young adult activities. She was a very sweet lady who put me at ease and was genuinely thrilled to be welcoming us to her church.

So Brian and I are officially members. We are registered for baptism class next Thursday. And I'm hoping the community feel she advertised so well will be a great way of meeting some  young moms with babies in the area.

I was so nervous about this whole thing. I haven't regularly attended church in 10 years! Obviously, we didn't get married in a church. I felt like I was going to walk in the church with my six month belly asking to baptize my baby, and they would laugh in my face. 

Instead they told us all our options. If Brian wanted to complete his sacraments, they would welcome him to but would not pressure him to. They told me I was welcome to come to their "welcome back Catholics" class if I wanted but again, no pressure. They said because neither of us have been divorced and we have been married for a while, that having our marriage validated would be "easy". I need to set up a meeting with the priest, and we'll be required to show our marriage license and baptism certificates and fill out paperwork. Then we'll set something up to actually be married. Kind of funny. Apparently people do this though and they'll even schedule their church ceremony on their wedding anniversary to remember both.

Miss Hartley's baptism sounds like a piece of cake - only 1 class! We need to discuss godparents. One has to be a practicing Catholic. The other could just be a good Christian but needs to be the opposite gender of the Catholic godparent. 

Feels so strange to me that I'm doing all this. I'm going to be the mom dragging her kid to church instead of the kid being dragged! Before I left for the meeting, I looked at myself in the mirror thinking I looked like a girl who got herself in to a little trouble (then shoved my wedding ring on to my fat ass finger... snug as can be). Now I'm reading my church bulletin and looking at baptismal gowns for my daughter, feeling so grown up. And kind of wondering how that happened. 

Technically the last day of the 2nd trimester.

So I'm counting the 27 week mark (Thursday) as the first day of the third trimester. But if you're a math geek and can figure out how to divide 40 weeks into thirds, you might call tomorrow (26 weeks, 5 days) the beginning of the third trimester.

It has gone so fast; it's truly scary. I feel like I'll blink and be in labor and blink and she'll be graduating. 

People told us, "now that you're pregnant, you'll see how long the 9 month wait is." We'll, we're not at 9 months yet but 6 months flew. Trying to conceive dragged. We didn't know if we'd have a 2011 baby or never get one at all. Once I had that February 2014 to look forward to, everything went crazy fast. 

And little things happen these days that just make it hit me even more. Seeing my baby shower invitation. Watching gifts be purchased off the registry and visitors sign the virtual guest book. I met my friends' gorgeous 6 day old daughter yesterday and when I held her I couldn't stop thinking that I'd be holding my own daughter in only a few months. I've never held a new baby knowing that I'd be getting one!

I had Brian take a fall, 6 month bump picture of me. Every month from here out gets a picture. And we're incorporating my belly in our Christmas card photo. 

Some outfits I think I look huge; some outfits I feel like I still just have a beer gut look. Today's scale reading said I'm up 6 pounds but I feel like its got to be more than that! I've been eating... And eating.

Brian and I were at Target and he just started scooping all these sweet baby girl clothes off the clearance rack. I thought that would be me, and Brian would be dragging his feet. But here's my manly husband surrounded by purple leggings and pink polka dot onesies, just going to town picking out things for Hartley. It completely fills every corner of my heart with love for him and our growing little girl. 

He still hasn't gotten to feel her kick :( It makes me a little sad because here's my guy, reading baby books, regurgitating the facts he's learning, and picking out baby girl clothes, and in true crane style, he has to wait longer than other men. Come on, Miss Hart! Your dad is watching dads and their daughters when we're out for walks and idealizing all the activities you two are going to do together, and you're holding out! 

Brian was watching his friend Colin hold his little girl on Sunday. He said he was watching to learn the best way to hold the baby. He talked about how he loved watching the baby's face, how her expressions were so sweet. He's morphing into a dad.

I'm morphing into a mom but also getting nervous for labor. Getting nervous for what happens to your body afterward and keeping Hartley alive! But I'll soak in the holidays and the baby shower, and worry about that stuff in January :)

The baby is about 80-90% viable (but like I always say, we're not trying out that statistic). Now girlie's organs need to keep maturing and starting to get a little practice. She needs to pack on those pounds. But she's only 10 weeks and 3 days from being full term! Wowza. 

Bring it in third tri! I've heard you're a beast but I'm ready for you!

26 weeks.

So I'm 26 weeks.

I think I'm up about 6 pounds. I don't get on the scale everyday because the gaining is still a little weird for me.

I'm wearing maternity clothes and sleeping in Brian's t-shirts.

I'm sporting stretch marks.

I miss alcohol. Yep, I now am counting down to having some wine after I pop out the little one.

As far as movement goes, she's getting stronger. She seems to be most active in the middle of the night. I'm really hoping this is the week Brian gets to feel her. We are way behind the curve on that one, and I feel bad that he hasn't gotten that experience yet :(

I crave nothing. My appetite isn't great. I force food in and feel queasy. But it's important to eat.

I'm showing. Whenever people haven't seen me in a bit they say, "whoa, you look pregnant!" And I love it.

The rings are off. Belly button is in.

I am almost always happy lately. Though I had an off day last week, and Brian didn't know how to deal with it. (I'm actually learning that my mood swings, whether they are PMS or pregnancy are mild compared to most women, and my husband is not used to them at all)

I'm looking forward to my hubby coming home tonight! I will say pregnancy has made time apart much worse.

So today is Halloween. I am exhausted. Brian being out of town has drastically affected my sleep. 

I can't wait for him to come home tonight. I don't know why but this trip has really affected me. It's silly. He's been traveling a handful of times a year for the past 6.5 years, so obviously the entirety of our marriage. He used to work so late that there weekdays where I just didn't see him. A 5 day trip to FL is not new to me at all - he's traveled longer and to foreign countries. But apparently my hormones have made me paranoid. I'm always worried that something bad will happen if he's not here. Plus, after our extremely lucky October (no preeclampsia, baby looking so perfect, no gestational diabetes, another awesome raise and spectacular bonus for Brian), there's a part of me that's waiting for someone to lower the boom. Such a terrible attitude. 

 

I have a feeling someday Hart and I are going to love when B is out of town: pedicures, shopping, going out to eat. But through pregnancy and baby time, I will dread it.

Besides that, things have been pretty perfect. I met some of the neighborhood moms and met the sweetest babysitter and got her number. The nursery is looking gorgeous. Hartley's bathroom is coming along. I got to go on some girl dates while Brian was gone. I went shopping and bought some comfy granny panties - all about comfort lately. Weather is perfect. Everyone around me is at peace. Life is good.

Happy Halloween!