Overheard From Next Door

"No, we can't go, because [pimp/live in boyfriend]'s baby mama's mama died and he has to go over there."

This is me and it can be so very complicated.

Blood, Sweat, Tears, Dirt, Whatever

Turns out being pregnant also makes one paranoid.
With my ankles swelling up so frequently I have made it a habit to look at my legs on a regular basis. (I can't reach them anymore, but I look at them.)
This afternoon I saw a dark streak on the side of my calf and started worrying; was it varicose veins already?
A bruise?
A clot?
After a lot of huffing and puffing and contorting I got down close enough to touch it and it turns out...
It was dirt.
Washed right off.

This is me and if only all my worries were that easy to solve.

He Passed

I guess it's a good thing I was never a cheerleader.
Tarzan has been studying most of the summer to take an English credential test so he can be the teacher of record for even more of the online students at his high school. He already is credentialed for the two types of history (US and World) and German.
(Because the man doesn't do enough for the district as it is...)
Anyway, he took the test almost a month ago and had to wait until last night for the results.
He passed - of course - but when the email finally came he was over the moon, grinning like a fool and doing a little dance in the kitchen.
Apparently he had been really worried about the test and concerned that he might not score high enough for the credential.
I kissed him and said congratulations but I had had no doubts that he would pass. It was like confirmation of a known fact.
I'm more like my parents than I admit to, it would seem. Not as demonstrative as others we know.
So just like when we told people we were expecting a baby, Tarzan had to go to his family for the fireworks and the shrieking.
They did not disappoint.

This is me and I am proud of him, just not hysterical.

Anyone For A Conga Line?

Today marks the start of my 26th week of pregnancy.
According to the 'baby books' - with a lot of NICU help - Cheeta could survive if he were born now.
Of course we are hoping he makes it another few weeks and comes out swinging. (Genetics being what they are, I have no doubt he'll bake for at least 12 more weeks.)
The swinging thing he has down cold if the movements in my belly mean anything.
Last week at my doctor's appointment she asked if I could feel him moving and boy can I. At first, it was like 'they' say and I couldn't tell if it was gas, my stomach rumbling or baby.
There is no doubting it now.
When he lets go it doesn't hurt - I wonder if that comes later when he weighs 7 pounds instead of the current 2? - but it's definite.
Sometimes it's like the Loch Ness Monster with the bluuurrp-type rippling movement across the front, other times it's minimal and I wonder if he's facing the other way or not as interested.
I hadn't really noticed until the doctor mentioned it but my uterus is tilted to the right - which is why only one ankle swells up when I'm working at my desk - and most of the kicking does come on in the middle or on the right side.
Sometimes it's a fluttering feeling, like he's poking obliquely, not directly into my side.
Sometimes I pretend it's his head I am feeling. It might be. I can't tell yet.
And I don't know if Cheeta can tell but he sure does stop kicking right as Tarzan puts his hand on me so he's never felt the really big kicks or the rippling motion that's so weird.
I wish Tarzan was home right now because I swear he's doing the samba in there today.

This is me and Cheeta's alive and doing well.

Old & New Shoes

This week was the week that we had scheduled the installation of our new floors.
(We figured 12 years was long enough with carpet we hadn't really wanted in the first place - long story, which will come later - and we figured with the upheaval of all else in our life, let's do a home improvement project too.)
This post is not about that though.
As I mentioned earlier, in anticipation of the project, Tarzan and I have been trying to sort through our junk possessions and see what we truly need/want and what we can get rid of. It can be a challenging task at times.
Especially when one packs as well as I do and am constantly opening a drawer/door/closet/etc. to find MORE STUFF to sort through.
While cleaning out the bedroom I came across a few boxes of, what is affectionately known in my family, "sentimental jazz." Playbills, ticket stubs, programs, art, kitchy presents, dried flowers, the usual.
On the first layer of one box was a pair of baby shoes.
A pair of baby shoes I had been given by the guy who sold me the shoes I wore to my wedding because "first comes love, then comes marriage, then comes the baby."
Over the years I have been tempted to throw them out or give them away SO. Many. Times. Then I packed them in a box, they ended up under the bed and haven't been seen in so long, I forgot to even consider giving them to my sisters when they were having babies.
I already used up my vindication speech on the children's books I saved despite Tarzan telling me we weren't having kids, so why should we take up the space?
This was just hilarious:

This is me and he'll have shoes at least.

First Bump Picture

You may have noticed that Tarzan and I are not really devoted to taking pictures of ourselves.
We had a zillion done at the wedding, we're in the family ones that happen every year or so but nothing has really changed for us in 13-1/2 years.
If we were the sort to do Christmas cards, ours would have looked the same - a little more grey in Tarzan's hair maybe - since we got married. Same house, (almost) same jobs, same just we two.
Now that Cheeta is coming - we have to get with the family photo-ing program!
To that end, we have, sort of, started taking baby bump pictures. Now I have never been a thin person and having a camera pointed at my middle makes me mildly uncomfortable.
Tarzan makes a valid point when he said we should have documentation of this moment in time. Especially when Cheeta grows up and wants to know about where he came from - do boys ask questions like that?
So, here we are. A baby bump at 23+/- weeks:

Please ignore my bizarre facial expression. I think I was explaining how to turn the camera focus around from him to me.

This is me, and it's a mind shift.

We're In Week 23

My observations on pregnancy so far:
Whatever traits, habits and nuances one possessed previous to becoming pregnant, they get worse become more pronounced after one is with child.
If one eats a lot of junk food, then they eat more while pregnant.
If they exercise regularly, they do it more while expecting.
I have always been a clumsy person, dropping items, cutting myself, losing things and punching myself in the face.
Now it is even more evident. I drop the same thing three and four times before I can keep a hold of it.
I eat well, which is good; hopefully it means Cheeta will be healthy and not too big for a calm, uneventful, timely delivery.
But I am a lot more sleepy in the morning, a lot more hot when it's warm outside, and a lot more irritable when things don't go my way.
And I spill AN AWFUL LOT.
All the time.
On everything.
It's sort of embarrassing.

This is me and I can't keep a shirt clean.

Mondays

Never, with Tarzan being bishop and me being exhausted before the sun goes down, have I been more thankful for Monday nights.
Yay for Family Home Evening!
Every single night these past few weeks has had some major event for one or both of us; Youth Conference, Faith In God activities, leadership meetings, visits to inactive members, Stake meetings, Baseball Night, Tarzan's summer job(s) and of course this ridiculous project I am part of; it just goes on and on.
Of course, it being Monday night does not stop people from calling for Tarzan, but the expectation is less and none of the major groups schedule meetings or whatever.
We can at least pretend it will be a calmer evening.
Plus, when Cheeta shows up and we make more of an effort at lessons and things, we'll leave our phones in the other room so we can't hear them calling.

This is me, glad for a moment of relative peace.

Well This Is New

Tarzan and I got in the car the other night to go to a meeting and I noticed I had only one ankle.
The other could only be called what kids these days refer to as a 'cankle:'

(I apologize for the image quality, it was a few hours later and the flash was acting weird. I also apologize for my weird suntan.)
After quickly dismissing all the usual suspects - no pain, I hadn't been sitting on it, no kneeling or anything that would put pressure on the veins, I wasn't retaining water, only one leg - I called up BHB, my authority on all things pregnancy to ask what she knew. She didn't know why it was happening to only one leg - we discussed several options, but it was a mystery.
It did go away after sleeping so it's not permanent.
It wasn't until yesterday that I figured out what was causing the swelling.
Apparently, when I sit at the computer for a while - longer than an hour - my right ankle swells up. The left one does not because it rests on a footstool/chair/tucked under me or anything else nearby. I can't do the same thing with the right leg because it would throw my balance off with the mouse hand and drafting needs the mouse hand pretty bad.
I have improvised an elevated platform for my right leg in recent hours and the swelling isn't as bad today but it's not gone.

This is me and I knew architecture was trying to kill me.

Lacking One Thing Only

I love Asian food.
Chinese, Japanese, Korean, Vietnamese, Thai - especially Thai food.
I don't know if it's the use of cucumbers, the peanut sauce, the ginger, the cilantro...
Whatever it is that makes Asian food Asian, it's awesome and I love it.
But there is one thing missing.
There is no Asian cheese.
I know, milk animals need more grain, more space, more care, et cetera. And I certainly can't find a place where cheese would improve the food. I just think all things I love should go together and there is room for ice cream in Asian food so we're almost there.
If we could squeeze in a place for cheese, I would be all good.

This is me without a place for cheese.

I Got Nothing

I'm really trying to get back in the swing of things, blogging wise.
I feel like I should have a lot to tell you. But after the big announcement and the follow up to questions we're just waiting for the next four months. The doctors don't have much to tell me other than, "keep going, you're doing great."
And this project of Buster's is insane. Seriously insane. I take back all the whining I ever did while working in a legitimate office because this is way worse and makes a lot less sense. And it is SO time consuming.
(I know, many of you have it much worse and I feel for you. We should all have bosses who are logical and efficient. And also pay on time.)
But it leaves me little time to post and little to say.
Other than the weather, which has been lovely so far this summer (knock on wood). Of course, I can't tell if it's actually nice weather or just nice weather for me. (I was cold all the time early on in this pregnancy and that never happens to me.)
But the breeze is blowing and Tarzan keeps saying he loves it, so I will take a risk and tell you the weather is good.

This is me and I apologize for being reduced to talking about the weather.

Annual Losing Of The Baseball Game

It never fails.
For 30 years, members of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints in our area of the world have gone as a group to the local professional baseball stadium to watch a game, hang out, see some fireworks and some friends, eat some hot dogs and enjoy the summer night:

 

The local professional team, no matter how they have been doing, (including the year they would go on to win the World Series) never wins the night we go. At least in the 12 years Tarzan and I have been going they haven't ever won.
Makes a girl suspicious.
We did catch up with some old friends, and made some new ones. Including this one who hung on to Tarzan for a very long time:

Like 1/2 hour long which is a big deal for an insect. Had time for 3 people to notice and tell us there was a bee on his shirt.
We also were allowed onto the field itself, for the fireworks following the game:

And that was a novelty as I had never been on a professional baseball field before. Grass was shorter and tougher than I expected. No wonder a single slide into plate causes huge stains up the side of a uniform.
It was fun and a tradition that we enjoy. I can only imagine how much more fun it would be if we won a game once in a while.

This is me and it's a conspiracy.

Medical Jargon

There are a number of statistics the professionals are watching very closely because of my medical history and status. I am considered a red-hot high risk pregnancy.
However, after all the drama and hysteria with the trying and the nothing and the getting here, it's been kind of anticlimactic now that it's happened.
The biggest thing the doctors worry about - and there are a lot of doctor that want a piece of me - is my age. At the top of all my medical files are the words "Elder primigravida" which sounds serious but just means I am having my first baby over the age of 35. My obstetrician actually apologized for having to put it down.
It does mean I have get to take a lot of tests. Mostly genetic tests, to check chromosomes for defects and assess viability of the pregnancy. It was through a chromosome test that we found out we were having a boy, long before the ultrasound could tell anything. Which is handy, because we registered for a lot of blue stuff. All the chromosome tests have come back normal and though it's not 100% guaranteed, the geneticist says, "what pregnancy is?"
There will be more tests, every four weeks, and should something come out weird, they get to invade some more, but thus far, all is good and normal. 
In addition to all the testing - which has come a long way from our mothers' generation, I get mostly blood tests and none of the needles sticking weird places gathering strange fluids - I get bumped up from random ultrasound tech guy to perinatologist. He does a very thorough ultrasound, with better resolution, and according to his own statement, he's smarter than all the other people in the department, so he's the best one to see. I've been to see him twice and he also says all is normal and looks good. Cheeta grows consistently, is on target for the due date - which means he's getting enough food - all his bones are in the right place and at the first appointment with Dr. Smarty-pants I was told, with all sincerity, "your baby has a head."
I consider that a plus.
He's actually a pretty fun doctor for being the high-risk pregnancy specialist and I don't think all the women he sees get the all-clear, or get it as early as I have. Because the other reason I am on the high-risk list is a function of my being a type-I diabetic. Because I am, and because I have been for a long time, I know about sugar monitoring, exercise and eating right and thusly my sugars have been in good control since long before this baby was a consideration. The nurses check in regularly, get lists of my sugars weekly, adjust my insulin, test the HbA1c (it's a history of sugar control thing) and make sure I exercise regularly. (Thank you Stingy's dog.)
Not all people know, or care, or monitor apparently and I guess he has to give some bad news quite often.
Another concern because of being diabetic is preeclampsia, but my blood pressure is awesome and thus we need not fear that condition at this point in time.
My proteins are also good, not showing up places they shouldn't AND because of being diabetic, I get to skip the nasty orange drink thing as we already know: I couldn't take it.
Interestingly, the infertility history doesn't mean much to the white coats, especially as it was a spontaneous fertilization.
Weight in general is monitored and because I have never been a slender person, my OB would like less weight gain than the usual for a pregnancy. Thus far it's been only 2lbs so I'm okay there too.
I do have to watch my potassium - not a usual pregnancy concern I understand - but it means a lot of bananas (ick), pistachios, apricots and one more tube every time they take blood.
I know, it's all going to change later and the third trimester is hardest of all, but if the potassium is the worst thing I deal with, it's going to be okay.

This is me and how's that for potentially, but in the end totally, but completely not at all complicated?

And Cheeta It Is

A second reason why I am so happy to be pregnant - and this truly is selfish and stupid - is that we were wasting an excellent chance for a code name here on the blog.
I was so sad when it seemed evident we weren't going to have children because we were Tarzan and Jane and we lived in the Jungle and it was such a appropriate theme for us; where was Cheeta?
We were not going to have a Cheeta.
Such a waste of a theme! And I hate waste.
But the improbable has happened and we're getting a little Cheeta come November.

This is me and even my blog prayers are answered.

All The Lovely Symptoms

Some of you may be asking how I didn't know I was pregnant for so long and I will tell you; one of the most obvious early warning symptoms - the nausea and vomiting train - did not, has not, come by this station.
I count myself very blessed, considering all the other things I have to monitor, that I don't feel like throwing up every day as well. Turns out it's kind of a genetic thing and neither of my sisters nor my mother had much morning sickness.
I have had some other crazy symptoms.
Fatigue, of course. This whole, making another person thing takes a lot out of a girl. I sleep a lot, and I already needed more sleep than Tarzan, poor guy. I feel like I'm ignoring him sort of; snoozing later in the mornings, I lay down at 4 for an hour if I can, and still I'm zonked by 9:30pm. Last time we saw a movie we had to go to a matinee so I wouldn't fall asleep during the film.
Congestion is one symptom I hadn't expected. I feel like I am getting a cold. Have felt that way for almost 10 weeks now. I sneeze a bunch, but it never develops into anything. Which is something else to be thankful for.
I feel full all the time, stuffed full, so even though I can eat, I don't really want to.
Dry mouth has bothered me from the beginning, no matter how much water I drink, and
that's quite a bit. No trouble getting my 64-80oz a day.
I don't know if the dry mouth causes the nasty taste in my mouth, or if the nasty taste results in the dry mouth, or if I'm just lucky enough to have both. And I do, which makes eating interesting. Dairy seems to aggravate the dry mouth so I'm taking that light and hoping the vitamins have all the calcium we need.
I haven't had any cravings that I have noticed, but the only thing that ever sounds good to eat is fruit. This kid is going to love nectarines, grapes and watermelon. Anything juicy. I ate a ton of apples at the beginning but their appeal is starting to wane.
And as a final note, without giving too much information, should this happen to any of you; eat the prunes. They are magic.

This is me symptoms galore.

Advice In Advice Out

It's a little narcissistic, but part of the reason I am happy to be pregnant is that now I will have street cred when it comes to pregnancy and kids and behavior and stuff.
So often people have complained, whined, talked, sighed, cried whatever over their children and/or pregnancy and though I have seen a method of solving the problem - and I always preface my comments with, "my mother, who had nine children, did this" or "my sister who has four, found this worked" or "this lady in the ward at church has eleven children and she found that this worked," - I always get the eye roll and the "uh-huh" response because, I don't have kids, how can I know anything?
So now I know stuff.
It hasn't stopped people from offering me advice, such as this gem: "don't hold your baby too much or he'll become dependent and you won't be able to get anything done."
And of course the ever popular "get your rest now..." in the sing song voice.
(Hahaha! If only I could convince the many people I work for that I could use some rest now.)
But I can now offer real life experience on fatigue, stretching muscles, weight gain (or lack of, only 2lbs thus far!), eating preferences, vitamins, and a myriad of other topics.
All because it got personal.

This is me and now I'm legit.

Aestethics

It seriously affects my sense of aesthetics that the dark pink half of my two part prenatal vitamins, with DHA & folic acid, are in the light pink container and the light pink pills are in the dark pink container:

This is me and first world problems.

Spontaneous Eruption

So let's, on top of everything that is going on right now, this spring, let's add me being PREGNANT to the list!
Let me tell you, THIS was a surprise.
We have been married for 13-1/2 years. We have "been late" before, we have tried infertility treatments, we have never, ever, ever gotten even a positive ovulation test, let alone a positive pregnancy test. We did not even get a chemical positive during the IUI, IVF, alphabet soup times.
So when I was late, back in March, eh. No biggie. Happens all the time. Regular is not my middle name. But it kept not happening.
I was giving even odds it was the flu, a tumor or some intestinal bug.
But, given the time frame and the lack of evidence to the contrary, when going in for some regular blood work, I asked the doctor to tack on a pregnancy test too.
And on April 3, the results were in: positive.
Tarzan was both over the moon with excitement and terrified.
I kind of didn't believe it still, until I had my first real doctor's appointment and they did the ultrasound and pointed out the heart flicker:

Then it all became real.
And it meant we had to tell people too. So we waited for Mother's Day to tell our families - Tarzan wanted a lot of fanfare and his family came through.
Then he wanted to tell the people at church on Father's Day. They were suitably impressed as well.
But all the holding it in is over now and that's good because half of the reason I haven't posted much is because except for whining about how much I don't want to do work and this baby! I've got nothing.
Now I can share with you all and that will be a big relief.

This is me and it is way weird.

By The Power Of Cuteness

Completely random stuff off the FB:

I don't know who thinks of these things, but I am glad that someone has the time to post ridiculously cute things on the Internet for me to find at odd moments.

This is me and it does not take a lot to amuse me these days.

Memorial Day 2014

This is way late I know, what else is new this year?
But we went:

We saw:

We played with the baby:

We blessed the baby, saw much family:

And some friends.
The trip was good, uneventful, no incidents, everyone remembered their own shoes...
And I barely managed to take half a dozen pictures.
I am pathetic. It's true.
ATL did so much better and most of what you see here is her work.

This is me and it was a good holiday.