What I have done today, as of 10:55

1. Scrubbed bathroom from ceiling to floor
2. Mopped floors of apartment. (Note: I have no mop. I was on my hands and knees with rags.)
3. Organized my post-maternity wardrobe.
4. Organized baby clothes and the nursery in general.
5. Scrubbed kitchen from ceiling to floor.
6. Started dough for homemade sub rolls.

Nesting?

True confessions

I brought out my baby book the other day, the one my mother made for me. It was time. Mike has been wondering aloud lately what our Babbit will look like. With the birth of our baby imminent, it seemed only fair that Mike should be warned. There is a chance that we will have an ugly troll-doll baby... if she takes after her mother.

Here it is, buried in the very, very back of the baby book-- literally the very last page-- Baby's first photo:




I can only imagine my own mother's disappointment after harboring her tiny little bundle of dreams for months and months, imagining all the good times she would have with her beautiful, precious future daughter... only to give birth to Joe Pesci.




I'm very thankful that my parents decided to keep me despite my shocking resemblance to the goodfella. I did eventually, thankfully (hopefully?) outgrow my Pesciness, so I'm sure Babbit will, too. And now Mike is prepared for the possibility of our own mini-Pesci. I hope he wasn't too disturbed. I've noticed that he has stopped wondering aloud what our child will look like. :/ Don't worry, Mike. Maybe she will look just like her bearded daddy!



(Joe Pesci, if you found this blog while doing a vanity google search, please don't be insulted. Even you have to admit you don't exactly have an angelic baby face, amiright?)

The horrification is complete.

This evening my belly button became an outie. It just sort of... popped. Like Bing! she's done now!



It was a little bit freaky, to tell you the truth.

Birth Plan

Last night while Mike and I were watching The Philadelphia Story* and scheming to condition our daughter to speak with the affected New England/mid-Atlantic accent of old Hollywood stars, I got terrible sick. If there is anything worse than first trimester nausea and vomiting, it is third trimester nausea and vomiting while large with active fetus.

It is my theory that the third trimester is specifically designed to be so horrible that you would endure almost anything to have it be over, thus negating the fear of labor. I'll let you know how that theory works out in a few weeks. As it is, I am very excited at the prospect of having this baby, just so someone else can take a turn holding her.


At this stage, "they" recommend that you have a birth plan in order. I've been working on mine diligently for weeks. Here it is:


Once contractions begin, labor at home as long as possible utilizing birth ball and bathtub for comfort and pain relief.

Once panic about being so far away from the hospital (a 25 minute drive) ensues, convince Mike we really ought to head out before the pain gets much worse.

Head to the hospital, stop at Ikea for walking and distraction. Hope not to end up like this lady (WARNING: LINKS TO VIDEO OF A LADY GIVING BIRTH IN IKEA) but wonder if one gets awesome freebies for accidentally having a baby in Ikea.

Get hungry and decide to stop at Jimmy John's on the way to the hospital. Eat it quickly, then get in the car. Get out of the car and decide to order another sandwich to hide in hospital bag. Leave for the hospital for real this time.

Have a baby.

Ta-da! Easy.







*Mike has decided that in order to improve our cultural awareness of our new city, we should watch all the movies set in Philadelphia. SPOILER: The Philadelphia Story is not about Philadelphia at all.

Midwife appointment update

I just got back from the midwife appointment. Everything is looking good. My iron levels are nice and high again, I gained a pound, and the fundal height is measuring right on target again. The baby's head is reeeeeally low, which explains the cramping feelings and the daily dose of contractions. They have predicted that she will be a 38 weeker, though I'm not going to hold my breath. Just in case, though... that is only 4 weeks away... Better pack a hospital bag. And buy a car seat. And, you know, find a name for the baby.

What Not To Wear

It was becoming a problem. My ever-growing girth + the need to dress warmly against the bitter cold of my first real winter since childhood meant I was spending days in a row wearing sweatpants and an old, oversized sweater of Mike's from high school:



Mike tells me that the sweater is advertising the name of a snowboarding company, but I still wasn't comfortable wearing the words PORN STAR across my chest, especially while being 8 months pregnant.

Luckily, this problem was nipped in the bud by Amy, whose adorable daughter was born at the end of January. Amy sent me a lovely box of maternity clothes that she wore during her last two months of pregnancy and now I have a nice selection of girly, flattering clothes. Thanks Amy!

Meal plan

Starting next month, I am going to start cooking and freezing in anticipation of being exhausted yet hungry. I want to use this month to test out some recipes and see how well they hold up in the reheating process. What are some good recipes for this?