Froot (and Veggie) Loops.

Today’s post is brought to you by the words, “Fruit” and “Vegetable.” I can’t seem to get enough of either. I know my “What to Expect” app on my phone tells me to eat lots of dairy and nuts and such during the day, but most of the time I just don’t want them. Blackberries, raspberries, zucchini and yellow squash are the things I want most. Yesterday I spent the entire morning slowly nibbling on a small box of blackberries, and was most distressed when I found I had eaten them all. Needless to say I picked up more last night, along with some dried mango and the “buffet” at my local coop (ginger garlic tofu, roasted root veggies and brown rice.) I.F.: Your babies are determined that I return to my pre-pregnancy weight almost immediately after delivery! (I’m very okay with this.)

Yesterday I got a pretty good amount of exercise. I needed to hit the Coop for tofu for Girls Night dinner, tofu for Pooka, buffet for me and Mama and some fresh bread for Hubs. (Hubs had a meeting, so I took the bus.) The bus doesn’t stop near the Coop though, so I walked about ¼ mile to get there, then another ¾ of a mile-ish to get home. Honestly, I felt pretty good when I got home. I think I’m gonna ask Hubs to start going for daily walks with me.

Additionally, I felt Tempest move this weekend. It hasn’t done any more flying drop-kicks to the side of my womb since then, but it protests when I bend over a certain way; pushing back against the movement. This one is not going to be anything like its laid-back big sister, that’s for sure. Methinks the fetus doth protest too much. Heh.

Place Your Bets!

The betting has begun (for bragging rights only). Based on the fact that the last two babies to whom I gave birth were girls, the fact that both were late, the fact that my due date is July 19 and the fact that Tempest is not behaving anything like the other two, the bets stand thus (I’m using initials because I don’t have nicknames for everyone):

R.D.     Girl       July 04

L.S.      Boy      July 12
M.A.    Boy      July 15

C.D.     Girl       July 17

K.P.      Boy      July 18

A.F.      Girl       July 19

J.H.      Boy      July 20

D.S.     Girl       July 20

A.K.    Boy      July 21

D.G.    Girl       July 21

J.S.      Boy      July 25

S.V.     Boy      July 27

As for me, I’m just hoping that I’ll go into labor spontaneously instead of having to be induced. I talked with I.F. briefly at our appointment about things I’d like to try to avoid this time. I would really like to go into labor on my own. If I do, I don’t want an IV unless it becomes absolutely necessary. I’d like to be able to walk around and have the option of giving birth in a position other than on my back. I want the doctors to let the placenta expel itself, rather than going in and scraping it out for me. (Take the time to stitch me up if I tear again; thus giving my uterus time to expel the placenta on its own. Doing it that way when I had Pooka worked nicely.)

My next appointment is on February 5^th with Dr. Badass. WHEE! Then we have our sex-determining ultrasound on February 26^th, and another appointment with Dr. Badass. Originally it was going to be the 25^th and we were going to see Dr. Firstname, but I.F. has more time available on the 26^th, and that works out better for seeing Dr. Badass, who is flat-out my favorite obstetrician of all time, ever.

Pooka was FABULOUS in concert last night. She sounds incredible when she sings at home, but on stage my baby girl truly shines. I was completely blown away. Seriously. I am one proud Mommy to have such a talented munchkin. My uncle asked if I had any buttons left on my shirt (from swelling with pride). I told him I was smart and wore a stretchy shirt. But the truth is, I need to wash it in cold water and dry it on super-hot and hope like crazy that it’ll shrink back down to its original size.

The video is short and sideways and blurry and shaky because yours truly is a crummy videographer, so just close your eyes and listen.

Hurry Up And Waiting Rooms...

I think today's was probably the longest series of obstetrical appointments we've had, ever. The screenings that preceded Princess WiggleWorm took a day and a half, but that wasn't obstetrical. We expected to have an ultrasound, a typical OB appointment and blood work. And those, we got. By the by: I.F. came down to join me for the appointments. We got to spend some lovely time chatting and discussing pregnancy, babies, toddlers... You know, all that stuff about which proud parents love to prattle. He reports that Princess WiggleWorm is doing very well; that she's a very easygoing girl, but that she's very physically active.

Anyway! Up first, the ultrasound was relatively quick. The ultrasound technician was friendly and courteous, and remembered us from last time. She said that Tempest's nuchal translucency (the thickness of the skin at the base of his/her skull) looks great. It's actually thinner, even, than WiggleWorm's was. Thinner is better in this case, as long as it exists. S/he is measuring right on for dates, too. I'm 13 weeks, 3 days pregnant, and Tempest measures at 13 weeks, 3 days gestation. This means s/he is about 7 centimeters long, give or take a few millimeters. That's right around 2 and 3/4 inches for you non-metric savages. (It's okay; I'm a savage too.)

 The doctor - I'll call him Dr. Firstname, since he insisted we use that rather than his title and surname - double-checked my history, ordered my blood work, gave us the results of the ultrasound "officially" and measured Tempest's heart rate. During the ultrasound, it was 159 beats per minute; a healthy heart rate. During the obstetrical appointment, it was 164. Tempest was very mobile during the ultrasound, so I call it his/her post-workout heart rate. Dr. Firstname declared me and Tempest, "outstanding." I'll take it.

The blood work part of the day was, however, not outstanding. It wasn't awful or anything; it just took forever. I.F., if you're reading this: It's a good thing you didn't stay to keep me company. You would have missed your whole day! The OB nurse gave me a slip of paper to make sure I'd be right at the front of the queue for blood draw. Unfortunately, there was a debacle between the OB clinic and the lab, and it took quite a while, along with trips up and down the two levels separating the lab from the OB clinic; and several phone calls. The reason being, I had apparently missed my prenatal profile blood work and urinalysis back in December, because I misunderstood Dr. Goggles when he said I didn't need to redo my STD screenings. So I had to have that done in addition to the integrated screening (for potential defects and abnormalities. It combines blood tests with ultrasound results to make sure that a fetus is not at risk for serious congenital defects, Down's Syndrome, spina bifida, etc.) Once that got straightened out, things went a bit more smoothly. The phlebotomist was so good at her job, I literally did not feel the needle piercing my arm. Even when my vein rolled away, I still didn't feel anything when she corrected her aim and tried again. All of the lab technicians were friendly and thoughtful. At one point I started getting a little faint, because it was after 1:00 and I hadn't eaten since 8:00. Normally I have breakfast, then a snack, then lunch. They gave me some fig newtons to hold me over until I could get something more substantial.

All in all, The Big Hospital is a relatively pleasant place to spend a day if one must. I can't complain. The staff remember me and I.F. and always greet us with enthusiasm, which I must admit makes me feel pretty special. That's not to say they aren't friendly to everyone else - I think we're just an unusual case, since most people have never met a surrogate, I guess.

Let's see, what else is going on outside my womb? OH! Bamf and her boyfriend The Ginge got engaged this weekend. He got her this very classic, classy looking setting with a HUGE moissanite stone in it. They stopped over yesterday so Bamf could show it off. It really is a very lovely piece of sparkly.

Pooka has a concert tomorrow at the local high school. She's even got a short solo in one of the songs! I'm so glad to see that the chorus director at this school encourages her. The director at her last school was less than enthusiastic about his job, as near as I can tell from the reactions of his students. Pooka's (biological) father is going to try to come down from the Queen City to attend, and two of her Aunties (Mama and Wifey) are planning to go, too. I have to appreciate it when Pooka's father attends her events, because he always makes a point to make a big deal of her. Brings her roses and little gifts; that kind of thing. Hubs and I make a to-do of her concerts and plays too, but it's good for her to get affirmation and encouragement from all of her parental units.

Don't worry, grandparents: We'll find a way to get at least her solo on film.

(Insert Creative Title Here)

Thirteen weeks today, and not much to report. I’ve developed a cold that seems determined to annoy me as much as it possibly can. It’s nothing truly draining or debilitating; just, well… Plegmy. My nose and chest are full of the stuff, and because of this, I’ve temporarily become a mouth-breather. Embarrassing.

I did have a little “scare” the other day. I won’t go into graphic detail, but it was enough to keep me home from work and make me call the obstetrician’s office. Turns out this phenomenon is common (though I had nothing like it happen with either Pooka or WiggleWorm) post-coitus, during pregnancy. The doctor said that as long as this phenomenon (Doot-doo-da-doo-doo!Phenomenon! Doot-doo-doot-doo!) does not involve the color “bright red” or cramping, it’s nothing over which I need to concern myself.

I’m fairly excited about this potential new job. I sent in my resume last week, and it’s already been forwarded to the hiring department for review! Every other time I’ve applied for a different job, it’s taken forever for my application to get through human resources. I’m keeping my fingers crossed that this is the one!

It’s early yet, I know, but I’ve started plans on Valentine’s Day for Hubs. Due to a diatribe that a male coworker once launched at me, and rightly so, I’ve given up on the rather sexist idea that Valentine’s Day should be a one-sided holiday; where one partner gives and the other receives without giving back. Therefore, I have reserved rooms at one of the fancy hotels in the Queen City for the weekend immediately following the hallmark holiday. I have also bought tickets to see the state Youth Orchestra, featuring Professor Kubinek; a vaudevillian performer who has been asked to come clown around onstage during the concert. This provides us with enough culture to seem classy, but with a hysterical twist, that’s just… Well… Us. I’d like to take Hubs to dinner at a “fine dining” establishment as well, but not a single “gourmet” menu I’ve seen has had anything on it that I think Hubs would eat. Ah well, casual fare is tastier and less expensive anyway.

Stop And... GROW!

I am officially twelve weeks pregnant today. That’s three months, or 84 days, or 2,106 hours, or 120,960 minutes, or 7,257,600 seconds. Only 196 days (4,704 hours / 282,240 minutes / 16,934,400 seconds) to go.

It also means that today is the last day I have to take my blasted surro-meds. Not that they’re painful or anything, but the estrogen tends to make me hyperventilate from time to time, and the progesterone gel is just messy. Additionally, the schedule is a pain in my ever-expanding rump. Vitamins, estrogen pill and progesterone gel when I get up in the morning. Estrogen pill at lunch time. Estrogen pill and progesterone gel again at bed time. Not so hard, right? Then add in the estrogen patch in the morning every 3 days. I’m very happy not to have to remember more than, “Take my vitamins in the morning,” from here on out.

I did discover, thanks to discussions with my friend Mama about a month ago, that the prenatal vitamins I was taking were making me more nauseous than I needed to be. She suggested trying two Flintstones chewable vitamins instead, since they also contain folic acid. This was what her OB/GYN suggested to her. So I checked with mine, just to make sure they agreed with the suggestion. Now instead of taking one wheat-flavored swallow-able vitamin every morning, I get to relive part of my childhood and take two Flintstones instead. Don’t judge me; they’re still yummy, and I’m not “Omidog kill me” queasy anymore.

Haven’t heard much from I.F. in a while but well, he’s a full-time Dad to an eighteen-month-old and works full time on top of that. He checks in from time to time when he can though, and it’s always pleasant to hear from him. If I haven’t mentioned it before, he’s a very thoughtful person and I am truly happy to be working with him again. Our next appointment is on the 14th.

Things seem to be going well at last. Hubs’ and Pooka’s Solstice gifts were tablet PCs – one for each of them. After nearly a month, and a lot of hullaballoo with both Dell and FedEx, we finally got them. Yesterday. I got my newly repaired and beautifully cleaned engagement ring back yesterday afternoon, along with a fresh proposal from Hubs. Of course I said yes again. (What can I say? We’re saps, and still adore each other, even after seven and a half years living together.)

I’ve applied for a new job at a different state department. It’s within easy walking distance of home, as opposed to the four miles I travel now, and the seven I’ll have to travel once our office consolidates all of its staff and moves to a different town in early 2014. It also requires less extended travel. Right now when I do fieldwork, I’m gone from home for a week at a time. This is not the best arrangement for Pooka who, while highly independent, still seems to enjoy her time with Mommy. (Which I HATE, of course. Every possible ounce of sarcasm intended.) There’s also the added bonus that I’d be working with my good friend Bamf, and would work all but across the street from the aforementioned Mama.

I need a change of scenery. A change of pace. I’ve been at this job for eight years, and it’s not going anywhere. It’s not expanding, it’s not growing; it’s certainly not going to pay more (my reclassification request was denied almost out of hand, despite the Big Boss fighting tooth-and-nail on my behalf.) I can’t get professional development. There’s only one phrase that’s truly appropriate for my position: DEAD END. Now if I can get human resources to forward my resume, perhaps I’ll have a chance at the job. I know I’m more than qualified for it, so I’ll keep my fingers crossed and hold my proverbial breath.