Our First Adventure at Just Between Friends

Parenting is 'spensive!

Not that this comes as a shock to anyone.  In an article released in 200, MSNBC reported that, "A two-parent family that earns less than $57,000 annually will spend about $160,000 on a child from birth through high school. "  That's us.  Yikes!  It is amazing the way that expenses pop up left and right from the moment you find out you're pregnant.  (Hey, pregnancy tests ain't free!)


I come from a very frugal line of jewish/german women.  Spending money hurts!  So from the beginning I have been looking for ways to cut costs in order to raise this kid.  We are looking at anything from cloth diapering to making our own baby food.  It's not because I'm a crunchy mama!  It's because I hate, I hate, I HATE spending money.

One of the things that I was made aware of in early pregnancy was Just Between Friends, a sale that takes place several times a year in locations all over the country, giving families a chance both to get rid of things that they don't need through consignment, and the rest of us a chance to get the things that we need for much cheaper than they would cost new!

Bubba and I attended our first JBF Sale last night.  We gave ourselves $100 to spend (easily blown in just a couple of items at Babies R Us...) and were really hoping to find a stroller.  Well, folks.  The stroller didn't happen, but that is kind of my fault.  


One of the ways that I'm trying to cut costs is with the whole stroller/car seat issue.  I am not into paying for a new car seat every time our little guy grows 20 pounds, and where on earth would I put all of those unused car seats???  That is why I registered for this car seat which adapts through the three different stages of front facing, rear facing and booster, for children anywhere from 5-100 lbs.  Brilliant?  I think so.  A little more expensive temporarily, but cheaper long term, and again.  I don't have to try to find space for unused car seats in our already crowded (and becoming even more so...) little apartment.  But back to the stroller issue!  


We looked at a stroller that included baby carrier/car bases for $80.  That's a pretty great deal, even though it was a little dirty and worn.  But when it came right down to it, the regular stroller that I'd registered for was $100.  So... $100 for something that I'd planned on using all along, or $80 for something a little dirty, worn, and I'd have to adjust a lot of plans for.  It just didn't seem worth it to us.  So we hesitantly laid aside our plans of scoring a super-sweet stroller and moved on to see what else we could find.


 Here is a list of the stuff that we ended up getting with our $100, ($83.00, actually!) along with retail prices to get them new.


Safety 1st Diaper Pail
Paid $7
Retails $19.99

Baby Innovations Leather Diaper Bag (for Mommy)
Paid $15
Retails $59.99
(I discovered this morning that Babies R Us is actually having a sale on this for $15.98.  Kind of a bummer, but it's still a great deal, and I didn't have to pay shipping.  I just have to figure out how to make it not smell like a tent!  Ideas are appreciated.)

Columbia Trekster Diaper Backpack (for Daddy)
Paid $20
Retails $39.99

Cloud B Sleep Sheep
Paid $8
Retails $28.99

Unopened Melissa and Doug Shape Stacker
Paid $6
Retails $7.95


Fitted Medium Cloth Diaper
Paid $4
Retails $15-$19


BumGenius Cloth Diaper Sizable Inserts
Paid $5/5
Retails $3/6
(Ohhhhhh, can anyone say burned?  I was researching other things and should have looked this one up!)


Fisher Price Rainforest Melodies & Lights Deluxe Gym
Paid $15
Retails $69.99

We did get burned/not really a great deal on a couple of things, but if you look at it in the grand scheme of things, we made a steal!  Our grand total was about $83 after tax.  We made off with $244.90 worth of stuff, had we bought them new in stores!!  That's about $162 dollars in savings.  Cha-ching!


So what do I have to say about the JBF experience in general?  WORTH IT.  Sure, you do have to sort through some gross/dirty/junky stuff.  Kind of like a big (but extremely well organized!) garage sale.  Some items you'll look at and think, $30 for that disgusting pack and play?  Are they on crack?!  And others you'll look at and think, $15 for that gently used baby gym?  Are they on crack?!

Even Bubba had a good time.  He's going to be a great daddy and was totally into trying to score some sweet loot for cheap for Caleb.  I gave him a hard time as he was contemplating which man-purse (aka diaper bag) he wanted to get, unzipping all the little pockets and percolating about the merits of one over the other.  


After we left he said, "I saw some guys in there who really didn't look like they were into that."  "Were you?" I asked him.  "Yeah!  I was way more into that than Babies R Us!  That place can die and go to hell."  And I concur.  If you ever want to have an anxiety attack, do a registry at Babies R Us.  Roam the aisles for a few hours.  Take in the chaos.  It is reminiscent of Parks & Recreations 4th floor of City Hall.

And with that, I'll leave you.

Stay cheap, friends!

Stop The Scare Tactics!

It is amazing how unbelievably confusing parenthood is, and I haven't even popped this baby out yet.  (12 weeks and counting!)

It's just like with anything else you decide to take up.  Pool maintenance, for example.  I had never even thought twice about the water I was swimming in when I visited a pool, but when a relative decided to get an above ground pool and delegated my husband and I as the care takers, (...) I quickly learned to appreciate the beautiful, clear water that I had swam in before.  (FYI, don't ask us to care for your pool.  We were a miserable failure.  Also, do NOT place a pool beneath a tree.  That is the worst idea.  Ever.)  All of a sudden pool water went from being simple to being ridiculously complex.  I don't know anything about pH levels or fungus or shocking or any of that stuff.  For those of you who have learned this art, I applaud you.  To me it was like trying to learn greek, and I quickly threw my hands up in despair as I gazed into the murky green depths.

I find myself in much the same quandary with this whole parenting issue.  Only this time, I don't have the liberty of throwing my hands up in despair and risking being badmouthed as a bad and irresponsible... relative.  (We will leave the specifics of the relations out in order to protect all involved.)

Anyway, as soon as you end up pregnant, you are all of a sudden bombarded with a million decisions to make, all of which you feel unqualified to make whatsoever.

What type of prenatal care should I receive?  Should I go to an OB?  Should I see a midwife?  Should I get a flu shot?  How much testing is actually necessary during pregnancy?  If this test comes up positive, does getting amniocentesis make me a bad person?  Does NOT getting it make me irresponsible?  Vaccines!  Are they safe?  Are they really worth it?  What is 'attachment parenting'?  Babywise?  Will letting my baby cry it out sometimes damage him forever?  What is actually necessary to put on my registry?  (I know Babies R Us says 4 strollers, but really?  4?)  Cloth diapering?  No?  Yes?  What kind of cloth diapers won't make me want to pull my hair out and make spending $2000 on disposables seem soooo worth it?  Does it make me a hippy if I want to give birth in a tub?  When I go into labor AM I GOING TO POOP ON MYSELF??? Why do I want ice cream right now?  If I do eat ice cream, am I going to give myself gestational diabetes?  I didn't finish all of my wine at New Year's communion.  Does that mean I'm not a Christian because I didn't "Drink ye all of it"? (Mt. 26:27 KJV)  Does it mean I've given my baby fetal alcohol syndrom?  Wait, some people don't circumcise their boys?  Why not?  Who ever knew there was such a thing as 'holistic circumcision'?  Why do I still want ice cream?

It feels much like trying to navigate a mine field.  One wrong step and BOOM!!!  You may have raised the next Charles Manson or something.

On the one side I have the medical community of people who I believe do genuinely care about all of their patients.  Included on this side are those who are influenced heavily by the medical community, which is... I don't know.  Almost everyone.  This side trusts that medical professionals are just that.  Professionals.  They have studied.  They have practiced.  They know, and should be trusted.  This side is pro-vaccine, pro-epidural, (God made people smart enough to invent them so that I wouldn't have to go through this pain!) all about disposable diapering, and anything else that makes parenting a little less stressful.  If breastfeeding is really not working out for you, it is okay to switch to formula, and you shouldn't feel guilty about doing this.  It may be in your baby's best interests.  This side says you're really asking for it if you do not get vaccinations, and get them when your pediatrician tells you to.  This side judges/worries frantically about hippies, *ahem* women who are not birthing in hospitals, because what if something happens?  You and your baby could both die.
 
On the other side we have the natural birth community, etc.  Attachment theory believers, La Leche leaguers, cloth diaperers, and other earth mamas.  These women also care, but have been burned before.  These women are trained to ask questions, either by themselves or by someone else.  They do not accept the things told to them as absolute fact, regardless of a white coat.  They want to see the data and try things for themselves.  These people believe that an obstetrician is not necessary for the average birth, and that birth should take place at home, in a birth center, or in some relaxing environment, unless of course there is something that makes the delivery abnormally risky.  These people are anti-formula, anti-drugs (in most, but not all situations.  God created women's bodies wonderfully, and they are able to give birth in most cases without the help of drugs, hormones and tools,) extremely wary of vaccines, anti-television, anti-disposable diapers, etc.  Breast milk is the elixer of life!  Breastfeeding is the best thing for you and baby, and formula is really not as necessary as people think it is.  Do your research.  Try changing your diet, etc. before racing to Babies R Us to pick up formula when your pediatrician tells you it's okay.  This side says you're really asking for it if you get vaccinations without doing your research, because some vaccines are live, and your baby could catch said virus and die.  This side judges/worries frantically over the average imbecile, *ahem* woman who gives birth in a hospital, because she could receive unnecessary medical intervention and have to have an emergency c-section or worse.  You and your baby could both die.

Then you have the things that both of these communities are saying.  ORGANIC, ORGANIC, ORGANIC!!!  If you are not feeding your baby organically grown fruits and vegetables, you are an idiot.  You have not done your research.  You are an unfit parent, and are causing your baby harm.  (No matter that most of us are feeding our children hot dogs and the occasional McDonald's.)

See what I mean?  One wrong step.  BOOM!!!

In my mind's eye I see myself, baby in arms, deer in the headlights, completely confused at the screaming masses around me.  It's terrifying, really.

What's a mommy to do?

I find myself mucking about in the midst of all of these opinions, hesitant to jump on anyone's band wagon to condemn all of the people who are parenting any other way.

I talked to my sister about this recently, and she mentioned that she is just sick of all of the scare tactics, regardless of which side they come from.  And she is right.  That is how I feel.

I am so tired of being made to feel guilty if I do/do not do what one source or another deems bad/good for my child.

I am sick of posters that show children in bed with butcher knives, claiming that co-sleeping is just as dangerous.

I am sick of posters suggesting that spanking your child is equivalent to abuse.

While I want to be educated about risks/benefits etc., when it comes down to it, you don't know me, and you don't know my child.  You cannot tell me that there is one way that works 100% of the time.  So just. stop.  ...Please.

Hearing, Listening, Obeying

We just got in last night from a Midwinter Retreat at Guadalupe Christian Camp.  The theme for the retreat was 'The Voice', inspired by the reality TV show, but with an obvious twist;  The Voice, being God's voice.

The speaker was great, inspiring all of the kids listen to God's voice and telling them how God speaks to us as believers.

Again, the speaker was really good, but I also had this nagging thought in the back of my mind that comes from my experience watching a 2 year old; listening is good, but it isn't worth a thing if you don't obey.

There are so many times where I tell Lincoln to do something.  Anything from, "Would you please pick up that piece of trash," to, "Please do not slam doors."  He's a 2 year-old boy, so sometimes he gets a little spacey. 

I end up repeating myself several times and saying, "Lincoln, did you hear me?  Lincoln, are you listening?" 

"Yes," he responds. 

"What did I say?"  And about 50% of the time he can repeat it back to me.  Then the question is, "Why aren't you obeying?"

Sometimes a time-out is necessary, the result of not listening.  But really, that's really only half of it.  It's the not obeying that got him in trouble.  So my phrasing went from simply encouraging him with, "Listen..." to asking him to, "Listen and obey."

And this was the nagging thought in the back of my mind.  As a teenager, it is much easier to listen to God's voice when you are away from home, away from your parents who drive you nuts, away from the bad influences of school, and you have no internet connection.  It's when you get back that it gets difficult, because the voice of God has so many competitors!  So training in listening is so very important, but I don't want to forget that it is still possible to hear the voice of God and not obey it.  And that's really where things can go bad.

Jesus confronts this issue in Matthew 7 when he says, "Therefore, anyone who hears these words of mine and puts them into practice..." and then later, "But anyone who hears these words of mine and does not put them into practice..."

It's terribly important that we don't go half way on this, because that could be the difference between a life with a firm foundation, and a life with a shifty one.

I'm sure it's no accident that as I was continuing my reading in Ezekiel this morning, I came across the following passage:

Ezekiel 33:31-32
"So My people come pretending to be sincere and sit before you.  They listen to your words, but they have no intention of doing what you say.  Their mouths are full of lustful words, and their hearts seek only after money.  You are very entertaining to them, like someone who sings love songs with a beautiful voice or plays fine music on an instrument.  They hear what you say, but they don't act on it!"

Am I expecting God to settle for getting my attention, but none of my obedience?  Are you?

What were we thinking?!

As Caleb's due date creeps closer and closer, (and closer,) I find myself becoming more and more scared of the day that he makes his first appearance.  Don't get me wrong, I'm looking forward to it, and it will be a day of joy and celebration for Bubba and I, along with our friends and families, but there is also this part of me that says, "How will I ever be a parent?"

It's a funny thing.  When girls are little, even 2-3 years old, they enjoy taking care of baby dolls, especially when they see their mommies taking care of babies.  It cools down for a while, but somewhere around 13-14 they begin again to start noticing babies and wanting to take care of them.  That instinct grows stronger and stronger as the years go by until hopefully they are married, and BOOM!  Full blown baby-fever strikes.

Now, I realize that this is not how it happens for every single girl, but it is a scientifically proven fact that almost universally, women feel the desire to have a baby at some point in their lives, usually around the ages of 18-30. 

I was reading about this in Glamour magazine the other day, (thank goodness my subscription expired.  Stupid magazine,) and it was addressing this fact, and how it is affecting the mindset of young American women who have careers and such.  When are you ready?  What do you do about your career?  Why does this happen?  I think that they came to the conclusion that it had something to do with evolution and the desire to prosper the human race, or something along those lines.

However, this my firm belief as to why that thing snaps in a woman's brain.

Genesis 1:27-28
God created man in His own image, in the image of God He created him; male and female He created them.  God blessed them; and God said to them, "Be fruitful and multiply, and fill the earth, and subdue it."

Tada!  There's your baby-fever right there.  God put it in there, and it's been driving women crazy (no, literally crazy.  As in doing crazy things in order to have children,) ever since.  Even the most career minded of women have a moment where they realize that, "Holy toledo!  My eggs are going bad!  I need to find myself a man, and FAST!"  And so movies like Tina Fey's 'Baby Mama' are born.  And thank goodness, because that movie is hilarious.

What confuses me about this whole process is the fact that in the midst of all of this craving for babies, why does the thought never occur to us women, "Parenthood is the most daunting challenge ever introduced to the human race.  RUN!!!"  And even if it does, we just brush the thought aside and continue the painful longing for a baby at our bosom and dreaming of nursery themes and adorable baby outfits!

So one day we pee on a stick and run in to our husbands with tears and hugs and kisses and say, "I'm going to be a mommy!" and then a week or a month later we wake up in cold sweats, pulse through the roof and say, "I'M GOING TO BE A MOMMY!!!"

Okay, so the first part of that isn't exactly how it went for me, but the second part is pretty spot on.  I find myself waking up with my heart pounding out of my chest quite frequently.  The cause has gone from the thought, There is a baby inside of me, and eventually it will have to come out.  Very unpleasantly, to recently, What will Bubba and I ever do with a teenage boy of our own?  I mean, we practice on other people's children all the time.  But does it make me a bad youth minister's wife to say that I'm not at all confident to raise my own kid?

Parents of our students come to us about their children with stories.  "My teenager snuck out of their window last night and hasn't come home yet."  "My teenager who has always done well in school is now failing out of 2 classes."  "My teenager just has no respect for me and wants to live with my ex.  What do I do?"

Since we were engaged, Bubba and I have been watching situations like these and saying to each other, "What if our kid goes through that?  How would we handle it?"  But at that point it was really more like a fun little game, akin to 'Would You Rather?' or something like that.  But now I find myself looking at Bubba and going, "No, really.  What are we going to do if this happens?"

The things I worry about now are things like, When is the right time to let our kid have a cell phone?  What kind of plan do we get him?  The internet.  Can we just get rid of it?  How do we handle the 'allowance' situation?I do realize that the teenage years are a ways off yet, but this is stuff that really is concerning to me.

But in the end, I know that God is faithful, and that He is really in charge of handling most stuff.

Proverbs 22:6
Train up a child in the way he should go,
Even when he is old he will not depart from it.

Do your thing, God!

Our Little Creature

Just realized that I failed to make an entry when we found out the gender of our baby!

It's a boy, and his name will be Caleb Michael.  We take names pretty seriously, and biblical names are kind of tradition in my family.  (Between first and middle names, it's getting a little difficult not to repeat, by the way!  There are plenty of names in the Bible, but really, who is going to name their kid Jehoiachin or Uz or Buz?  We also want our kid not to have to endure merciless teasing at the hands of schoolmates...)

We love the integrity of Caleb in Numbers 13 and throughout his life.  The fact that he and Joshua stood up in the face of peer pressure with faith that God would do what He promised, despite the grim outlook of the rest of the troops is something that we hope our son aspires to.  We pray that he has the same kind of stubborn, reckless faith.

Michael is Bubba's first name, and it means 'Who is like God?'

Despite what a couple of students and former students may have thought when we announced the name, no.  He is not named after any of you.  No offense.  We love you, but no.  We have had those names chosen for years now, long before we met you.

Here is the best picture, in my opinion.  Here is our Caleb, looking 'tender and mild', a picture of tranquility and innocence.

Aaaand then there's this one.

Now I realize that this might make me sound like the meanest mom ever, but I think that this picture of our little guy is absolutely terrifying.  He weighed about 12 oz. at this point, and he really didn't have whole lot of meat on his li'l bones.  This was the second round of photos, and for him, the show was over.  He was scared (to the point that I almost asked the technician to stop...) and was hiding his little face and retreating as far back into me as he possibly could, while trying to cover his poor little ears.  It really was the saddest thing.  So this picture was taken in the midst of all of that.  It is my honest opinion that he bears a strong resemblance to the creature Gollum.  Tell me you don't see it.  I dare you. 

But this little creature has my heart anyway.

Quickening

Tomorrow I will be 19 weeks pregnant.

Even in a short 19 weeks, pregnancy has had plenty of ups and downs. 

Pro: No one judges me for how much food is on my plate.  Ever.  In fact, I could probably get away with eating sticks of butter at the moment.  (No, I do not crave butter.)  In fact, most people actually encourage heaping portions of any and everything on my plate.  Never mind that my diet is only supposed to increase by a scant 100-150 calories compared to my pre-pregnancy diet.  But hey, it's always a relief to know that should I want a second piece of lasagna, no one will blame me or complain that I got more than my share. 

Con: While everyone has been encouraging me to "Eat for two..." since I was 5 weeks, there was a good 7+ weeks in there where eating for 1/2 was a challenge, and keeping it in my body even more so.  I will spare you the gritty details. 

Pro: Pregnancy is the best motivation in the world to be nicer to your body.  (Eat better things, take supplements, lift things that aren't quite so heavy, for which my joints are certainly grateful.)

Con: Motivation is actually a nice word.  Non-negotiable demands may be more accurate at times, usually regarding when I eat, urinate, and beginning to be how I sit, etc.

Pro: The beautiful knowledge that life is being cultivated within my womb.

Con: The moments where I wake with heart pounding and palms sweating with the jolting realization that there is a baby in there, and one way or another, it has to come out.

So yes.  Lots of pros and cons.  You can read my earlier post about pregnancy and easily see that I hated being pregnant at that point.  I no longer hate it, and am actually enjoying it now, but my frustration has been that other than the weird way I felt, the swelling of my belly (which I see as a major deal, but most people see as very slight,) and the fact that we can hear a tiny, fast little heartbeat on the Doppler at appointments with my midwives, I didn't feel like things were changing, namely because I couldn't feel the little nugget moving.

When I reached 15 or 16 weeks the questions started coming.  "Have you felt the baby move?"  To which my blank, sad stare would communicate that no, I haven't.  What exactly am I supposed to be "feeling" for?  If you want women to get really weird really quick, get them to start talking about fetal movement.  I'm serious.  Women will tell you all kinds of things. 

"It starts as just little flutterings, like a butterfly in your stomach." 

"It feels like someone is tickling you!  Just like this." *proceeds to give my belly a little tickle.*  Teehee! 

"It feels like an air bubble.  Almost like you just drank a Dr. Pepper and some carbonation is just being weird in your stomach." 

"It feels like gas." 

And my personal favorite, coming from my friend Kara who is currently in the hospital on bed rest, pregnant with twins, "When it feels like a goldfish is swimming around in there, you know it's the baby!"  Turns out, this has been the most accurate, but I get ahead of myself.  (To learn about Kara's miraculous journey so far with her twins, here is a link to her blog.)

3 weeks may seem like a short amount of time, but when you spend every day waiting for something, it feels like an eternity.  We all know how long 3-5 business days are when we are waiting for UPS to drop off that new book/gadget that we ordered.  Just imagine that, but longer.  Every day I would lay down and concentrate and will myself to feel that baby.  Sometimes I would think, *gasp* Maybe that was it!  But for all I know, I ate too much spicy food at dinner.  (They said it feels like gas.  Maybe what they felt actually was gas.)

I watched bitterly and cynically as I unfortunately sat through Twilight: Breaking Dawn and, (SPOILER ALERT!!!) it depicted Bella feeling her baby moving after a short 14 days post-conception.  For those of you playing at home...  In the real world, you know, planet Earth where real women are delivering real babies, 2 weeks post-conception the baby hasn't even earned the name of 'fetus' yet.  It is still simply referred to as an 'embryo'.  It will be 2-3 weeks before it even begins developing arms and legs and is incapable of moving.  Disclaimer: No, I haven't read the Twilight books, and am not sure that I will ever be able to stomach reading them.  I do realize that Bella's pregnancy is not "normal."  But come on.  2 weeks?  Give me a freakin' break.  As we watched the movie I rolled my eyes and probably talked constantly to my husband about how stupid this was.  I was mad because Bella could feel her baby moving, and I couldn't.  Lame, I know.  Pregnancy does stupid things to you.  (Pro: You can blame ANYTHING on pregnancy and get away with it.  Forgetfulness, mood swings, cravings, tears...  anything.)

So now you are caught up to the completion of my 17th week.  At my prenatal appointment my midwife recommended that I try laying down immediately after dinner to feel the baby, as that is the time when they seem to be the most active.  (Sugar rush?  Who knows.)  I tried this and kept gasping and saying, "I think I might have felt it!"  My husband was skeptical.  He was certain that I only thought I could feel it because Kelly, my midwife, had told me I might be able to.  (He is convinced that I am a hypochondriac and that any time a medical professional tells me something, I believe it. He thinks that if I am ever concerned that I may be getting sick, I am then certain to get sick, because I psyched myself into it.  This is not true.  The reason I always get sick when I say I think I'm getting sick is because I don't want to admit in the beginning that I may be getting sick, then by the time I admit it, I'm already sick.  You are welcome for that unnecessary peek into our marital disputes.)  He may have been right.  I don't know if that was the baby moving or not.  If it felt like gas, then who could know what was gas and what was fetal movement?  Certainly not me.  (The only reason I am admitting to gas is because I'm pregnant.  It's the baby's fault.  Please see the above pro.)

A couple of days ago, after I had eaten a late night snack, I was sitting at the computer bumming around on Facebook and I felt it.  And I was certain.  Somebody was kicking me in there.  And not just kicking.  The whole goldfish thing was pretty spot on.  Ever put your foot in water and waited with incessant giggling for minnows to nibble your toes?  It's okay, men.  You don't have to admit that you were giggling.  (But we all know it's true...)  That's how I felt.  It was a strange, strange feeling.  But it was a relief to have confirmation other than hearing the heartbeat once a month that there really is something going on in there to justify all of these crazy symptoms.

My husband told me as he was pressing his hand on my stomach, "It's not fair that you can feel the baby and I can't."  Well, there are a lot of things about this pregnancy that aren't fair, let me tell you.  But we won't get into that.  He tries to use my belly button like a microphone or a walkie-talkie to the baby.  "This is your father..."  Star Wars style.  But all to no avail.  I thought it would probably be a while before you could feel anything at all from the outside.

This morning as I laid in bed putting off getting up, (it's the weekend!) my stomach was kind of hurting.  This is a common occurrence, really, because I'm convinced that overnight is when my organs decide to shift.  They are all looking for room in there and decide that an all-nighter of abdominal organ tetrus is a good idea.  So sometimes my abdomen (the place where a good deal of my digestive and internal reproductive equipment hang out) doesn't feel the best first thing in the morning.  Oh well.  Not that big of a deal.  I sat there with my hand on my stomach, and was incredibly surprised when I felt something move.  If that was gas, I would really be in trouble.  Yikes.  I grabbed my husband's hand (who was currently dead to the world,) and pressed it down on my stomach where I'd had mine.  When I had woken him up enough, he too could feel somebody doing somersaults in there.  "Did you feel that?"  I asked him?  "There's a baby in there!" he said, and shortly thereafter proceeded to roll back over and go back to sleep.

I am not the sappy type.  I'm not good at sentimental garbage.  I only cry in movies, where people have made it their life's work to figure out what emotional strings to pull at in order to eek a few tears out of women.  I did not cry when I found out I was pregnant, or when I heard our baby's heartbeat for the first time.  I kind of live in the camp that says, "The concept is cool, but hearing fuzzy whoosh-whoosh-whoosh sounds on the Doppler just doesn't bring me to tears."  Does that make me a bad mom?  I don't know.  But getting to see my husband feel his baby for the first time this morning was the closest I've come to crying.  I'll have to hold it together for months now, as I will be the first witness to daddy-baby bonding time. 

Here goes nothing.

Beauty in Difficulty

If there is one good thing I can say about pregnancy (and as of yet, I certainly don't have very many...) it is that I love the way that this process is binding my husband and I together, strengthening the bond made previously.

I hear that doing difficult things is good for you.  We have had quite a lot of difficulties in our short 3 years of marriage.  (Good heavens!  Has it only been 3 years?)  From the beginning it was rough.  I am fully aware that many people's beginning years are far worse than ours.  But ours have had their... uncomfortable moments.  It reminds me of going to the doctor and getting poked and prodded, and they ask me how I'm doing.  I'm uncomfortable.  It could be worse.  There is a 10 on that pain scale.  So I tell them I'm fine, and I just try to deal with it until it's over.  Going directly from the honeymoon weekend to living in his grandmother's mobile home with my father-in-law sleeping across the hall, things were uncomfortable from the get-go.  I was grateful, certainly.  But I also wanted a house, (or a mobile home, or an apartment,) with no one else in it.  After a couple of months our place was liveable, so we were able to move.

I will spare you the details of our next year and a half, but suffice it to say...  It was still uncomfortable.  And throughout all of that time, I cannot say that I enjoyed the difficulty one bit.  My husband and I fought about things.  Sometimes they were worth it, and sometimes they weren't.  In the first 6 months of marriage I remember thinking, We fight way more now than we ever did when we were dating.  What is wrong with us?  I no longer think anything was wrong with us.  I hear it happens to most couples, and that first year and a half were hugely stressful.  I contribute most of the fighting to that.  I dwelt in a constant state of mild depression and complete overwhelmedness, (which spell check tells me is not a word.  I disagree.)

Since we have relocated and gained a broader emotional/physical support system, things have been easier.

Enter our little Jelly Bean.

As you can read in my previous post, and if you've ever carried a child, you certainly know...  This is most definitely one of the hardest things I have personally done.  I am almost always an emotional wreck, and I am extremely needy.  (You know those people who want to lock themselves away in a room while sick and stay in there until they feel better?  I'm not one of those people.  I just want to cry while you hold my hand.  No, I'm serious.  That's really what I want.)

Since nausea set in in week 6, I haven't cooked a real meal.  Our house is liveable, with what my mother calls "discernible paths."  I wash clothes when we run out of underwear.  Or jeans.  Or socks.  Needless to say, my husband has to do most of the things around the house that get done, and he has to do them after a full work day.  So the difficulty is mutual.

But throughout all of this, there are these little moments that I will cherish always.  Moments like the ones where I erupt in tears, and all we do is hug, because really, what else is there to be done?  When I look at him and say, "I know we had plans, but I just don't think I can make it today," and he looks at me and says, "Okay, we'll stay home."  And that's okay.  When in the middle of the night and he's dead asleep, he rolls over and rubs my belly.  (And it's adorable.)

Through most of the difficulties that we've had, I've felt like there was some force trying to tear us apart.  (And undoubtedly, there has been.)  But this time, it is so special to have this difficult little growing life driving us closer together.  It is supernatural in all of the good ways. 

And it has only just begun.

Confessions of a Pregnant Woman

My husband and I have been married for 3 years, and for the first time we have an answer to the annoying, and seemingly incessantly asked question by our peers, parents, friends and students.  "When are you going to have kids?"  Surprising in the first year of marriage, annoying in the second, hurtful in the third after 9 months of hoping for conception.  But we now have an answer.  April.  We will have a kid in April!
Now, to get past all of the nagging questions about whether we prefer a girl or a boy...  While sure, one gender may be a little less intimidating than the other, why waste time hoping either way?  We have a 50/50 chance, and setting ourselves up for any kind of disappointment seems silly.  Do not talk to me about Chinese fertility calendars, threaded needles, what position the child was conceived in, etc.  (And that last part is none of your concern.)  I will bypass the ridiculous tests and quizzes.  I do not want to pee on Drano crystals.  I'll find out the "old fashioned way," (maybe not so much...) and just wait for the sonogram.

Already in month 2, I've had the thought many times, I thought this should have been easier.  Amazing that something the size of a poppy seed, (half a pea, pinto bean, cherry) can so forcefully change the way you do life.  Routine no longer agrees with my body, as it seems to demand things NOW!  Otherwise, I pay for it later, bowing before the porcelain throne.  I have an alarm set for 2am so that I can eat, in hopes that I will wake sans the compulsion to cradle my "puke bucket."

Nothing is the same.  Heaven knows mornings are not the same.  Church is not the same.  Sex is not the same.  House cleaning...  God, please forgive me for making my husband live in a pig stye.  Cleaning requires standing.  Standing causes nausea.  Not even sleep is the same, which seems kind of silly, considering there are no outward bodily changes.  It's not lack of physical comfort that causes my nights to be weird.  It is the dreams.  I have always had weird dreams, but never before have I had such strange dreams about food.  I've dreamed in detail about a deliciously iced, pink-and-white marbled peanut butter cupcake made by a friend.  My friend told me I could have one, but that I had to buy any additional cupcakes I wished to consume, about which I was completely dismayed.  (The cupcake never happened, but it should.)  I dreamed that I threw a stomping, fist-banging fit in a restaurant because my order was not taken soon enough, and I was pregnant and starving.  I've dreamed that rather than serving wafers and grape juice for communion, our pastor decided that we would have a buffet, (a la Golden Corral.)  Not only was a buffet moved to the front of the sanctuary, but our pews were modified with railing to slide our trays, in order that the guests could eat and listen to the sermon simultaneously.  Strange, strange, strange...

My husband swears I am crazy, although I feel the same way about him.  Is it possible that the husband can be hormonal and irritated?  Because I assure you, it's not me.

But as I write all of this out, it is far easier to feel hopeful about it, because this all just sounds like the hormonally-crazed rantings of a pregnant woman.  And that is kind of comical, because I was somehow convinced that I was above it.  Guess not.

Please bear with me as I am somewhat antisocial.  I am taking a break from the general public beyond my necessary duties of work and volunteering.  It's not you, it's me.  It's all me and this little cherry sized alien inside me.  And by all means, if you do see me, do not ask me how I feel.  I'd rather not think about it.  If I feel good, I'll let you know.  Otherwise it's safe to assume I wish I had my puke bucket.