Okay, so I have just gotten out the shower, changed my clothes, and brushed my teeth (again), and I am feeling much calmer. (what is it about hygiene that makes me feel better? I would die on Survivor within minutes...not b/c of the whole living in the jungle thing, but b/c I would not have access to shampoo or a toothbrush.)

Yes, I recognize I am probably irrationally taking out my frustration about this pregnancy on my ob/gyn. I'm trying to figure out why I'm so mad, and I think it's b/c I just wish both docs would get on the same page. Who knows - maybe George is right and I will go to term. Or maybe Dick will be right and I'll have a baby this weekend. I just wish both would stop telling me conflicting info since it is making me crazy.

And yes, I'm being nicer to Dick to because quite frankly, I like him better. He fits better with my personal philosophy. I'm a worst-case-scenario type of gal, and like to err on the side of caution. I think Dick does this as well. There is a casualness that George presents with that just rubs me the wrong way. As Brian said we walked out of the appointment, "We could experience an earthquake during your delivery and George would look around and say, 'I don't see what the big deal is.'" He's a calm guy, but not in a reassuring way.

I can't help but feel this whole situation relates to the Cuban Missile Crisis of 1962. (yes, we just finished the last of season 2 of Mad Men. This show really sticks with you, huh?). I mean, on one hand, I feel panicked that this might be it. But then again, I don't know, so do I just go on living my life (and staying in "Manhattan") when the rest of the US is evacuating? I like to be prepared. I don't like to be surprised. At least our "bomb shelter" (aka the nursery) is done.

Maybe I need to stop thinking so much about the personalities of my doctors and just focus on being a good incubator. After all, that's the only thing that matters. That and well, breathing.

Let's just say that as I'm typing this, my teeth are very, very clean right now.

We had an appointment this morning with George. I dragged Brian with me since whenever he's there, George treats me with more patience and is not as quick to run out the door. Maybe I've been watching too much Mad Men, but I'm really getting sick of being glossed over by doctors while they communicate with Brian and only briefly glance at me. Um, if I weren't there, there would be no appointment. Please address me, not my husband. But for whatever reason, Brian seems to command this respect that I cannot muster, hence the need for his presence. Yes, I'm enabling the situation, but quite frankly, I'm too tired to fight against it anymore. And besides, I'm practically near tears most of the time, and I don't want to shoot myself in the foot by (gasp) crying again during appointment.

So George pretty much didn't give us any addition news. In fact, he disputed the evidence we already had. According to George (who's Native American name would be "He-Who-Does-Not-Read-the-Chart"), our baby is not as large as we think, because "our" definition of big doesn't match his definition of big. Um, okay. So I asked him his definition of "big." To which he replied, "Greater than 9.5 to 10lbs." Okay, that was my definition, too. Where's the problem?

The problem, according to George, is that our baby is in the 82% of growth charts, not the 98%. Okay, that's fine. I mean, we are only repeating what we were told by Dick. He also was quick to point out my last growth scan was "over four weeks ago" and I should be due for another "any day now." I replied by saying, "No, it was less than two weeks ago [July 30], and my next one is not scheduled for another two weeks." He replied, "Yes, that's what I just said." Wait, what?

Obviously, George cannot predict when this child will arrive, and I don't expect him to. But I what I don't expect is for his information to completely contradict what we've been told by the specialist. Per George, I may be pregnant for a very long time (think beginning of September and beyond). Per Dick, I should be giving birth this weekend. Can we just get on the same page here? Can the two of them talk as not to confuse the already-crazy pregnant lady? George went as far as to suggest that I might never go into labor, and we'll have to schedule a c-section or induction in a few weeks. Huh? And, he was quick to point out that "110lb women have delivered 10lb babies with two pushes." Okay, I don't really care about anecdotal information, I care about what you think about MY particular case. But that would require reading the chart, which is clearly beyond his capabilities.

George also seems to believe that ProCardia is the Xanax of pregnancy. I asked if I could stop the meds, to which he replied, "It's up to you. It's really just for your comfort." Um, Dick has been fairly clear that this is necessary to prevent labor. I know ProCardia doesn't stop true labor, but it does stop the contractions that shorten the cervix that cause the bigger contractions that are true labor. So...huh?  Do you understand my confusion??

I don't know what to think about any of this. He didn't even measure my fundal height (size of the uterus) or palpate the baby. According to him, "there's too much fluid, so it's not accurate anyways." And then he was quick to point out, I'm "just big." Thanks, doc. Is that your definition or mine?

I think he could tell I was getting frustrated, so he offered this empathetic response: "If you think you are frustrated, imagine what it's like for us. We have over 200 patients; we'd love to be able to tell people when they are due." ARGH! Yes, becuase that is exactly what I needed to hear. I mean, this is only my body, my comfort, my child, and my life. Heaven forbid your weekend plans are interrupted by one of us pesky pregnant ladies who decided to give birth during your tee time.  I can't imagine his level of discomfort over not knowing.

He did end the appointment on an up note - the sports analogy. "We're only in the first quarter of the game." I had to suppress a smile as not to appear rude, especially after that last blog entry about sports analogies.

So, whatever. We have no new information today than what we had yesterday. I hope I don't come off as a control freak, because not knowing isn't the biggest thing that is bugging me. My frustration is having to see two doctors that are clearly not communicating and in turn, giving me conflicting reports. Just get on the same page and my blood pressure will go down.

I see Dick tomorrow, so hopefully we can get this cleared up. He's a pretty straight shooter.

Sorry about that, folks, I have no idea what happened with my blog over the past 24 hours. I posted the Muffin Update yesterday and then everything just went to hell. I kept clicking 'Publish' and continued to get an error message. I finally contacted blog administrators with a chirpy little "I'm 9 months pregnant and friends and family members who check my blog think I've gone into labor!"  email and viola. Within two hours it was fixed. I hate to play the pregnancy card but...yeah, I'm going to play the pregnancy card. I may only have so many days until it expires.

So please don't be worried - things are fine here. My day consisted of watching the Food Network and waiting for 'More to Love' to air. No news on Baby B, but we do have an appointment with George in the morning.

As for the blog, if I do go into labor, please know I probably won't update it. We are not planning to bring the laptop to the hospital, and while I like to multi-task, well, blogging while in labor is a little much for even me. I'm sure Brian will send out text messages as things progress, so if you would like to be on that list (and we don't already have your phone number), send me (or Brian) an email. Both of our emails are on our facebook pages. And if you are fine waiting a few days (I'm really trying not to sound horribly narcissitic here), I'm sure I'll be back on the computer as soon as I can sit upright. Not like the birth of our child is going to an incredibly momentous occasion in your life - in ours, yes, yours, probably not. But we do want anyone who's interested to have access to info if they chose.

For those of you who like hard numbers, here are the stats:

BP:  110/74
Fluids: 20.3 (+3cm from Thursday)
Baby's heart rate: 128-152
Uterine activity: irritable, nothing notable

Overall, it was a very quiet appointment. I was on the monitors for less than 20 minutes, which was nice. I finally figured out that if I ask for apple juice PRIOR to the appointment starting, I have a much better chance of avoiding the buzzer. Baby B really loves apple juice (and so do I!). I think if we ever take this child apple-picking in the Midwest, he's going to try to eat the apples before we've even finished. I just love the idea of shopping for little fall sweaters for Baby B. I can just picture his little chubby cheeks red and flushed in autumn weather.

I don't know why, but I was just exhausted when I got home from the appointment. I literally crashed on the couch for two hours, dragged myself to the kitchen and made a cheese sandwich, and then dragged myself back to the couch. Maybe its' the heat, maybe it's my size, who knows. All I know is that I *heart* our couch. And air-conditioning.

I think I'm done reading for the time being; I just don't have the attention span. Plus, I kind of want to end on a high note before this child gets here; I would hate to have the sour taste of some Emily Giffin  book left on my reading taste buds when I might not read a (fiction) book for another 18 years. So, I'm happy to go out on 'The Likeness.' Which, by the way, I re-read this weekend. Just amazing. Love the writing style. I'm not going to review 'Infant Massage' or 'Itsy-Bitsy Yoga' because that is just wrong.

There is a Mad Men marathon on AMC right now...Brian and I only have two more episodes to watch until we are all caught up. Season Three premieres next Sunday! So excited. This show is just fascinating. I highly recommend it to anyone looking for a smart, well-written drama. Brian and I got into this 30+ minute discussion between episodes about a woman's intuition and finally had to agree to disagree.  We did, however, both agree that Betty Draper is completely off her rocker.  The show just sparks such good topics to talk about.

Also, I have only four words for you...TOP CHEF LAS VEGAS. I cannot wait!!! It premieres next Wednesday. I can't believe we missed Tom & Padma & Co. while they were in town. Word on the street is that they shopped at the Whole Foods at Town Square. Why couldn't they pick the Albertson's on Rainbow? Oh, well. I can't wait to watch. My favorite show in my home city...so awesome.

That's all. I think I'll go make some muffins now.

A lot of people have been inquiring how I've been feeling lately (thank you! So thoughtful of all of you), and I have to report, I feel awesome. I mean, from a physical standpoint, I have the usual aches and pains - back pain, hip pain, fibroid pain (oh, so fun), and just overall exhaustion.  There is nothing like being 35+ pounds heavier when it is 115 degrees outside. But Vegas is experiencing a bit of a cooling period - the temp has only reached the high 90s for the last few days - and aside from the physical discomfort, my mood has been fantastic. Really and truly happy.

I feel as though this fog of anxiety has been lifted from me. The longer this pregnancy lasts, the happier and more excited I get. Yes, I'm concerned about delivery, but it's hard to wipe the smile off of my face these days. The end is definitely in sight and I can almost taste it. I'm excited, I'm thankful, and I'm so, so, so happy that this child is almost full-term. I really never thought I would make it to 36w2d, so every day after this feels like a true blessing.

I know that sounds pretty cheesy (sorry, I'm losing my sarcastic edge). I think it all just depends on expectations, though. When you expect to go the full 40 weeks, the last few weeks have got to just drag. But when you are told that you might have a micro-preemie at 26w, everything after 36 is gravy. Really delicious gravy. And I'm savoring all of it.

Who knows when Baby B will get here...I'm starting to think maybe next week, though Brian is convinced that he's coming later this week. And he might surprise both of us and arrive much later in the month. Who knows? All I care about it that this kid is moving fairly regularly (though it takes a while to feel him in his swimming pool) and my appointments continue to go well.  My headaches are gone and I *should* be off the medication (and bed rest!) in the next 48 hours. I feel as though I've been given a "summer vacation" for the first time in a long time, too. I've had a chance to read some really great books, hang out with friends, and bake to my heart's content. I feel like I'm 17 again (minus the whole pregnancy thing).

On today's schedule, I am planning to go to fetal monitoring at 10:30, read a book on infant massage, and then perhaps make muffins. Sounds like a pretty awesome day to me. :-)

So, it's amazing to think that in just 27 short weeks, our little fellow has gone from this

to this:

The people at our perinatalogist's office were kind enough to do a quick 3D/4D ultrasound for us, which yeilded our first close look at our little guy. The whole ride home, Brian and I were debating who he looked like more: Mom or Dad?  We weren't able to decide. so see if you can figure it out for us. Here are some reference points:

Brian is about a year or so in this picture. I love how he is dressed like a good German boy. He is clearly not wanting for food. 

I'm also sad to report that we don't have many pictures of little Brian, so this will have to suffice. I do love his little chubby cheeks.

Now, a few pictures of wee Kim:

In the top picture, I am showing my early love of flowers and all things pretty. That's my grandma giving me something that is delighting me. In the bottom photo, Kelly and I are already showing the height difference that will plague us for the rest of our lives. I have no idea how she ended up so tall and I ended up so average. We definitely were rocking the pigtailed look, though.

My mom also sent over some other photos, and this one scared me the most:

In that top photo, my first thought when I looked at it was, "When did I pose for that picture?" And then I saw the bottom photo and realized I was looking at my mom, not me! I mean, the hair, the posture, the turn of her head, even the way her hands are positioned -- it's a spitting image of myself.  My mom is 28 years old in this picture, two years younger than I am right now, and was in active labor with me when it was snapped. Yes, she really is that smiley. I hope I'm that cheerful when Baby B joins us. 

And I have to give a shout-out to my dad in the second picture, rocking the long side burns. How 1978 of him. :-) I don't think I've ever seen him look so happy, in person or in photo, than in this shot. That kind of makes me sad; my birth appears a major highlight, and then it seems like it all kind of went downhill from there. He stopped smiling and gives us the gruff look instead. He probably had no idea how much his two daughters were going to cost him over the course of the rest of his life. Sorry about that, Dad.  You'll be financially free of us...one day. :-)

And finally, just because I find this so appropriate for today:  

Top photo is me at 6 months, bottom photo is me probably around two years old. I just love the look I'm giving Grover; I think I still use that look today. It totally screams, "Um, I don't know what's going on here, but I'm not sure I like it. Please give me some space."

So, you decide. Does Baby B's picture look more like me or Brian? My honest-to-goodness first reaction is that he looks a lot like my dad. I guess only time will tell!

Aosidu  wih weiocl ih doifhs ij wepirj.

That's pretty much what goes on in my head when I have a headache. Absolute, complete nonsense.

This medication is seriously making me batty. I'm squinting at the computer right now in a darkened room, trying to tell myself that this too shall pass. My next appointment is in an hour, and I have yet to feel a contraction. So, this is good news.

I think my favorite side effect of the medication is that it makes my eyes look really red and puffy. Kind of like as if I had been abusing illegal street drugs. This, combined with my too-fluffy-for-a-wedding-ring left finger and rapidly swelling face makes me look like an 18 year-old unmarried pregnant girl high on drugs. Great. Should I call Social Services now, or later?

(10 points to the person who correctly identifies what movie that is from).

Actually, yes, pain does hurt. It hurt A LOT.

It's been an interesting 24 hours for us. To sum up a long story, I woke up last night around 3am with the most intense back pain I think I've ever had. It was literally throbbing in my lower back and radiating around my waist like a clamp. The contractions were so strong I couldn't catch my breath. I had envisioned this moment for a long time, and was worried that if I ever woke up in labor, I would be sleepy or groggy. Nope. I was clear as day. I kept thinking to myself, "Crap...crap...not now. I don't want to have a baby tonight!"

I laid there for a good hour, trying to talk myself out of the pain and convince myself that I had just slept on my side funny. By 4am, I gently woke up Brian with the words no husband wants to hear: "Sweetie...don't panic, but I think I'm in labor." I have to give him credit, he handled it like a champ. He didn't freak out, he didn't jump out of bed screaming. He just simply smiled and said, "Oh really? Okay. What do you want me to do?" And then, best of all...he did it.

I started timing the contractions until I couldn't keep track of them anymore. By 4:25am, Brian suggested I take a shower and let the warm water try to relax the back cramps. After I had dried off, he brought me a warmed corn pillow (if you don't know what this is, you are totally missing out) and tucked me into bed. I thought maybe if I could fall asleep, the pain would go away.

And you know what? It did. I woke up at 7:30am to sunlight streaming through the windows and feeling as though I had just had the best sleep ever. No back pain, no contractions, just a warm comfortable bed and a baby still squarely where he should be.

Some may be wondering why we didn't head to L&D...quite frankly, if it were up to me, I probably would have gone. But I did have that Ffn test done last Monday which predicted I would not go into labor in the next 14 days (so it expires on 8/10).  Not to mention, my last trip (trip #4, not #5) was so incredibly painful and invasive that I just didn't want to subject myself to that again if this wasnt' the real deal. It was a gamble, yes, but it paid off.

I had my fetal monitoring appointment this afternoon (another reason why I didn't go to the hospital) and let's just say, it was an epic fail. During the non-stress test, my contractions were appearing in lovely hill-y patterns with regularity and consistency.

Once the doctor came me (this is Dick Cheney, remember), he gave me the bad news: they are maxing out my medication to the highest level, must remain on bed rest past Saturday, and I also need to continue the meds until at least next Wednesday. He agreed that 35w5d is a great gestational age to reach, but he'd like to keep Baby B in until at least 36w...which is Saturday. Like, this Saturday. I kind of looked at him when he said this, and was like, "Is there a chance I might go into labor in the next 48 hours?" to which he replied, "Yes."

Well, that's interesting. And terrifying. And a whole bunch of other emotions. 

I go in again tomorrow for yet another NST/BPP test. I also am taking massive doses of Procardia, which is what brings on those wicked headaches. All of that is fine/cool, as long as this child doesn't make his entrance too early. Based on what I gleaned from today's appointment, though, over-under is being set at next week, tops.

I'll keep you posted, but my goodness, this is surprisng news. Again, if you are the praying kind, send some over here just to ensure little Baby B is born healthy and hopefully not until after the 15th. Thanks.

And as a side note, where is my Emma Alert System when I need her? Like I said earlier, I've been counting on Emma to tell me when I'm in labor. Last night, she should have been meowing and trying to break down the bed room door. Nope - she was sleeping quietly downstairs. She's been especially cuddly lately, but I really had hoped for a little more from her.
 

Sadly, I have no books to review lately. My attention span for a book that doesn't involve infant massage or breast feeding is practically nil. (we'll get to more about breast feeding in just a minute). It's starting to hit me that we are having a baby and this baby is coming SOON!

Currently simmering on the stove is a lovely bolognese sauce I made earlier today. My bichamel sauce turned out fairly well, and we're just waiting on the lasagna noodles to finish cooking. This follows the banana bread I baked last week, and tomorrow is Chili Day. I was able to schedule a lawn service to come out and tidy up the property (ironic we need a lawn service when we don't even have a lawn, no?), and the maids are scheduled for the next two months, with a deep cleaning happening tomorrow morning. All of the baby clothes have been washed and folded (and then re-folded) and every mechanical baby-related item has a working battery in it. My hospital bag is packed, the birth plan (a touching piece that I hope is both humorous and insightful) is written and printed, and the camcorder is charged. Are we ready? I have no freaking clue.

All I know is that there is part of my brain that says, "We're good; w'e're ready, just sit tight." And then there that other, louder part of my brain that is like, "Holy crap, we're having a baby! Who that THIS was a good idea?" I mean, I've been known to forget to feed the cat on occasion. Brian once left a glass in his car for like, three years. And we've both been known to eat only celery and cream cheese for dinner, since it was the only food in the house. We're not exact models of responsibility.

In terms of stress, I would have to say short of figuring out how this child is coming into the world, my next greatest concern is breast feeding. For something that seems so natural, organic, and wholesome, the actual practice seems to border on rocket science combined with AP chemistry. I've been quizzing friends and professionals for the last few regarding what to do and what not to do, and the more info I get, the more confused I become. There is an array of breast feeding accessories (I'm proud to say three weeks ago I didn't know what a nipple shield is; now, I do) and products out there that just serves to complicate matters. One friend said she loved being her baby's link to sustenance and life, another friend said she is so tired of being someone else's grocery store. Considering I didn't even get a cell phone until 2003 since I hated the idea of being constantly connected to everyone, I think I might side more with the latter. Not mention, every single person has described the pain in graphic detail. I'm not a fan of pain.

I'll be honest - I've had a love-hate relationship with this aspect of my body for the past 20 years. I've (literally) supported them and hope they don't let me down in my time of need.

Had yet another fetal monitoring appointment this afternoon. It's really quite fun at this point; all of the nurses are so nice. They greet me with such a friendly manner, I think I will add them to the Christmas card list, too.

Some stats:

BP: 117/73
Fluids:  17.8
Baby's heartrate: 128-162
Uterine activity: very little

Overall, it was an excellent appointment! The only excitement came at the beginning when Baby B refused to stay on the monitors. He was insanely active; jumping, jabbing, swimming, punching. In all 35+ weeks, I've never seen this child so active. The nurse and I chalked it up to 'Shark Week' on the Discovery Channel; I had it on during the appointment and I think Baby B really likes creatures from the deep. Clearly I'm going to have to monitor what this child watches more carefully.

The nurses were also kind enough to give me the 'Labor Lecture;' i.e. what to watch out for, what to do, when to call the doctor. I appreciated all of the info, although the thought of actually having a child is completely surreal to me right now.

In other news, house arrest - oops, I mean bed rest - ends this Saturday. I'm trying to figure out what I should do first with my new-found freedom. I'm thinking...hiking? (I just wrote that to freak out my mom.) Kidding, kidding. I'm sure we'll stay close to home. Although I do have this strange feeling that Emma will know I'm in labor well before I do. She's a rather intuitive little cat.

Okay, "Surviving a Shark Attack" is on right now. I need to tune in, just case we ever find ourselves as a family vacationing in warm waters. Did you know 85% of shark attacks happen in less than 5 feet of water? Knowledge is power, friends.