Little Fetus, Inside and Out

I should have posted a bajillion times this week, but I’ve been trying to jam about 6 days of work into 3.5 days of work. I think I’ll just start with the most recent. We had THE appointment today. I’m rotating through the other doctors in the practice because I might have any one of the three of them for the delivery. I must say today’s doctor was quite interesting. He argued with me about my bagel as a means of nausea prevention strategy until he learned that said bagel was topped with cream cheese. I love that the cream cheese made it okay.

I also asked him a few questions about his birthing philosophy. He got rather defensive when I asked him what the c-section rate was for the practice. He also tried to tell me that no doctor ever performs an unnecessary c-section because they are all kinds of more work—oh, except for this one guy he knew—he hated that guy. Also, that the increase in c-sections in the last few years is just because babies are bigger than they used to be but pelvises aren’t bigger and yeah. I guess what worried me most was that after being defensive and then apologizing for being defensive for about 40 minutes he tried to do the exam again. He forgot that he had already done it and didn’t believe me until I told him what the heart rate was and it was the same number he had written in the chart. I think I caught him on an off day.

After this lively discussion, we proceeded onto our ultrasound appointment for which I was now 15 minutes late. A nurse told me to go in the room and disrobe. She then came back 5 minutes later and told me that I had to put my clothes back on because it was somebody else’s turn first. That made me really, really happy.

The magical fun part of the visit was of course when we finally got to get the ultrasound for real. It was much different from the first ultrasound I got at 8 weeks. At 8 weeks the lady took a bunch of measurements real quick, showed us the little baby outline with the cute little beating heart for about two minutes and it was over. This time there were minutes spent on each little anatomical feature. We looked at the heart, the brain, the legs, feet, hands, face. Fetus has at least 10 fingers and 10 toes and an upper lip and I think my nose.

And now you’re all wondering about the sex. You pervs. It’s all you think about. People ask me when I’m due and then if we know. At this moment, there is one person who knows—the technician who did the ultrasound. In typical Emo fashion, we decided to further procrastinate on making a decision. Two strangers we’ve spoken to on the street think we should wait. I think I’m leaning that direction right now. We had the technician write it down on a piece of paper, which is now in a sealed envelope. Kenny has hidden that envelope and we’re just going to wait and see how we feel. I leave you with pictures of Fetus (or was it Embryo then?) at 8 weeks and the picture from today at 19.

18 Weeks

The famous 3-point post in which I discuss 3 separate items without having to transition between them or have an overarching theme.

1. My belly looks considerably bigger today than it did yesterday. I credit the Chinese food we ate last night. I need new clothes

2. We are heading out to DC this weekend. We are trying to pack in lots of traveling now because I understand it can be more difficult to travel with babies once their on the outside. Leroy is going to camp where he is allowed to chase and be chased by other dogs for a good 10-12 hours a day. Jack is going to stay with cats where he will finally be understood. We took Jack for a trial meeting the other day since I seem to remember that cats and dogs are not supposed to get along. Jack occasionally whimpered when he felt like one of the cats was looking at him too harshly. Other than that, they mostly sat in similar poses and were equally entertained by the magical moving laser dot.

3. Next week is the big ultrasound. The one where we hopefully see a fetus who looks rather baby-like. Also, the one where we might have the opportunity to find out the sex. We change our minds every day on whether or not we want to find out. There are just so many options. Please vote* in the comments section.
-We find out at the ultrasound and tell everybody. This option seems to involve lots of pink and blue.
-We find out at the ultrasound and don’t tell anybody else because we are mean, mean people.
-We don’t find out and also don’t tell anybody since we don’t know. We are all surprised but also have a hard time thinking of Fetus as anything other than a little fishy or froggy or it.
-We have the technician write it down and put it in a sealed envelope to open over a dinner date days later thus spreading out the excitement.
-We have the technician write it down on a piece of paper and plan to never look at it but do because we can’t handle it just being there and not knowing.

*Note: The vote will have no bearing on the actual outcome :-).

17 weeks

This week's picture feature's my bathroom as a backdrop as Kenny thought he'd catch the belly as I was brushing my teeth.

You might recognize the back of Jack's head from such other pictures as the one above from our journey to Chicago.

If I am getting dumber, is fetus getting smarter?

Kenny can never find anything, ever. He usually spends 10 minutes looking for something, I finally ask him what he is looking for and go straight to it when he tells me. I’ve lost that ability completely in recent weeks. Basically, anything requiring a charger can no longer be used in our home. There might have been pictures to go with this post today, but that would mean somebody in our house was capable of remembering where we left the cord to connect it to the computer.

A couple of weeks ago I texted my friend, Melissa, to let her know I was running late for our brunch date. Kenny and I had tried to sneak in a trip to the paint store before the brunch and I left him at the curb with 4 cans of paint and raced over to the restaurant. I didn’t see Melissa anywhere when I got there. I sat down in the waiting area and wondered if I was a half hour off in my time or something. While waiting I realized that it was the 9th which meant that the day before had been the 8th and I had completely forgotten to call my friend Lindsey to wish her a happy birthday. Lindsey is a mutual friend of Melissa’s and mine and she thought it weird that I had a date with Melissa since she was pretty sure she was in Maine. I called Kenny and had him look it up in my Google Calendar. Not only did I have the wrong time, I also had the wrong week. I went home and vomited since I’d messed up my eating time so badly with the imaginary brunch date I had created for the day.

My coworker asked me to schedule 6 calls for her with some people on the West coast. I did that and was careful to be mindful of the time difference as I did so. I even looked things up to make sure I was right about it being a 2 hour time difference. I kept making sure that the times would not require my coworker to be here too early. They would suggest 10:00 and I would try to move it so as to not require her to be here at 8:00. Did this through SIX phone calls. I realized the error today when somebody called her to confirm and the time I had set was, oh—4 hours off since I had gone 2 hours in the wrong direction.

I miss my brain.

The telling

Lindsey
Shortly after the second positive pregnancy test, I bargained with Kenny to tell one person. I NEEDED to tell one person. NeeNeeNeeeeeeeded to tell somebody. I didn’t want to tell Megan (for reasons that will be explained later) and couldn’t tell Molly and not Megan. We agreed on Lindsey. Also, she was coming to visit the next week and Kenny is not capable of double drinking enough to pull that one off. Lindsey is like an additional coworker for me. We gchat every day and know most mundane details of each other’s lives. For the hour I tried it, it was killing me to talk to her without telling her about IT . As you might have noticed from the several week gap in Blog posting, it’s really hard to talk about anything else once you know. The first recorded response to the news of our coming child was a series of exclamation points.
me: i peed on a stick this morning and it was a plus sign
Lindsey: !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Zack and Mike
My brother Zack and his partner Mike came into town about a week after we found out. I picked them up from the airport and on the way Zack mentioned that his ex had asked him if I was pregnant. He asked me if I was and I dodged the question and asked why she thought that. When we got back to our house I told him that I was a little bit pregnant (evidence of my not quite acceptance). I believe Zack said it was “about damn time” and got all excited and all.

Mom
I decided to tell my parents after the first doctor’s appointment. Kenny was in more disbelief and wanted to wait until after the ultrasound to tell his parents. My mom, brother and I had been fighting about whether or not to go on a cruise over Christmas. I did not want to go because I like Christmas and apparently they don’t. I called her and told her that I was not going on the cruise because I was not getting on a boat 8 months pregnant. She immediately screamed, “I’m gonna be a grandma!”

Dad
A few years ago I saw David Sedaris do a reading. I waited in line for two hours to have him sign a book for my dad who is also a fan. I told David who to make it out to and when I got it back it said: “David, Congratulations! Emily is pregnant!” That silly David Sedaris. I mailed it to my dad and he called me in what sounded like heart distress. He said, “What’s this, this, not about?” When I called my dad to tell him I asked if he had read that book lately and suggested that maybe he should. He started to say something and then paused and asked if I was trying to tell him something. I told him that I was carrying his grandfetus and that he was going to be a grandpa. He said we’d have to come up with another name because he was definitely too young to be a grandpa and that just wouldn’t be credible.

Molly and Megan
I didn’t want to tell Megan because she had been trying to do what I had just done for quite some time without success. I was very afraid and contemplated waiting until the next month on the off chance that she’d get pregnant in the meantime. Turns out, I should have done that because that was the month! I was feeling sad though and thought it was due in part because I hadn’t told my Megans and Mollies and that just wasn’t right. I couldn’t possibly be embarking on this whole new phase in my life without telling my girls. So I finally called Megan. I left two voicemails for Molly and she had the nerve to not call me back. I finally texted her: “I’m knocked up. Call me.” TWO HOURS later she called. She loves me. I’m pretty sure she was just away from her phone.

Kenny’s Parents
Kenny called his parents after the ultrasound—after he saw the heartbeat for the first time and had visual proof in his hands. We decided it would be best to call them at work instead of waiting for that night so that we could tell them each individually without one ruining the surprise for the other. Kenny’s mother just kept repeating over and over again, “You’ve made me sooo happy! I love you sooo much!” Kenny’s father screamed. Coworkers came to see if he was okay. He also said, “I didn’t think you guys were ready.” Meaning that he didn’t think that we thought we were—not that he didn’t think we were ready, but it’s funnier if you think of it that way.


After telling our parents, we told them they could tell people--just not to, for instance, put it on Facebook. I thought I was being overly cautious by even feeling I had to mention this to them. The next morning my dad and Kenny's mom both had status messages relating to their approaching grandparent status and my mom had written about it on several people's walls. Ooh, parents. What can you do with them?

The Belly at 16 Weeks

So I thought it was time I shared a few headless shots of me and my gut. Okay, it's not a gut. It's a fetus* (with fetus accessories). The first two pictures are at normal posture and the third is at full relaxation--so the 3rd looks more gut-like.

Those are maternity pants in the pictures. I may never wear regular waistbands ever again. A lot of things about pregnancy can suck, but maternity pants is not one of them.

* Fetus=50% bagels and cream cheese.