Finally found time to post

****WARNING**** If you don't want to know the nasty gory details of giving birth, don't read this post. Don't complain to me if you do read it and think I've disclosed too much; you've been forewarned. I wanted to share everything for the people out there who are still pregnant and might want to hear what the whole labor/birth process really can be like. ****WARNING****

Okay! I don't know where to start. Obviously a lot has happened so there is a lot to say but its going to be hard to remember everything and then arrange everything into a coherent post. I'll try my best.

Today Oliver is a week old. I checked into the hospital Tuesday morning and he finally came out Wednesday afternoon at 3:15. The delivery room was really terrible.. my window was boarded up so I had no concept of time at all, it just seemed to last forever. The cervidil was really icky and I hated it, but it did eventually get my contractions going. I tried to hold out as long as I could for my drugs, but sometime in the middle of the night I took sleeping pills and a shot of morphine to help me sleep.

I think maybe the morphine was a mistake. I was so out of my mind that I just felt kind of crazy and out of control.  Even with all of the drugs, the pain was too much for me to sleep so I was just lying around drugged out and half conscious. I remember getting really scared every time Jared moved because I had to have him right there with me and I didn't want him to leave. I don't think I could have done it without him, actually. It made me feel good to know he was there the whole time, he was really a good support.

Sometime in the morning they put me on the pitocin drip because my contractions weren't regular enough. The pitocin really made things hurt ten times worse, but it did give me contraction after contraction. Around 5 cm I couldn't take it anymore so I asked for the epidural, spinal headache be damned. They were about to change shifts so they asked me to wait for the new doctor, so I said okay. Of course, the shift changed and they forgot about me so I was waiting for a very long time and I was not happy. Then they finally came in and said they would page the anesthesiologist. That took another hour for her to come and get all set up, and when she got there all I could think was:

"Seriously? You're kidding me, right?"

She was in training. She didn't know what she was doing. I have a history of spinal headaches and they let a trainee stick a needle into my spine. It was the most unnerving thing in the world because she took so long that I had 6 contractions during which I had to remain absolutely still. It isn't easy. It was terrifying. You never want to hear the person ask "Does this look right? Am I in?"

She finally finished and got me all taped up but I couldn't feel any relief. They tried to make it seem like, "Hey! Don't worry! sometimes these things take time to kick in!" but I knew it didn't work. I jsut knew it. She left and said "I'll be right back" but of course she wasn't right back. The nurses are never "right back." She finally came back and checked to see if I was numb and obviously I could tell her, no... I don't feel numb at all. They had to page the stupid anesthesiologist to try again, which took forever. I was going to ask for the real doctor to do the second epidural, but the real doctor was in surgery so there was nothing I could do but be jabbed again by the stupid trainee. I just wanted to cry, and I might have, I don't know. It was remarkably difficult to hold the epidural position to start out with, but then to have more contractions and pain on top of that was really horrible. Thankfully, the second epidural worked sort of and I was able to get some sleep. I could still feel things I shouldn't have felt, but it was so much better than before that I wasn't about to ask for another one.

The rest of the morning/afternoon I was just lying around eating Popsicles and complaining to Jared.  At some point I started to feel like I was pooping all over myself, but it was actually just gross giant bloody clots coming out. I really was paranoid that I was pooping so I kept bugging Jared but every time the nurses just said "No, you're not pooping."

At around 1:45 I was able to start pushing. Pushing actually felt like a relief because I was able to do something about the pain. I really had no idea how long I was pushing, but it seemed to be forever and I just got to be completely exhausted. Jared and a nurse held my legs. The nurse was horrible, I wanted to stab her. Between every contraction she would turn and click away on the computer and jerk my leg to the side. When something as big as a baby's head is coming out of your crotch, the last thing you want is to have somebody jerking your legs around. Even in labor I was still too polite to yell at her so instead I yelled at Jared for rubbing my leg. Poor Jared.

Finally, he started to crown and that was a remarkably horrible pain. Unbeknownst to me, Oliver had his arm up on his face so I had to push out his head and his arm at the same time. His head was so huge that there were multiple contractions with his head partway out of me. It is a real wonder that he doesn't have a cone head at all. After his head and his one arm were out, the one shoulder came out with a pop and the rest of him sort of came sliding out. They put him up on my tummy and let me touch him and hold him while they rubbed him clean. I pulled him all teh way up to my chest and the midwife commented on how long his cord was. I just sort of stared at him and wanted to cry. I didn't even notice Jared cutting the cord or anything else going on.

When they took him away to measure him and test him, it was just like I was immediately relieved. I wasn't passed out and drugged out of my mind, I was able to talk and be sort of normal. It was a really weird feeling to look over and see his feet kicking while the nurse measured him. It was weird to see him actually outside of me as a real person, and it was weird that he was mine.

The nurse kept saying how big he was and all I kept thinking was... Yeah. I know. I told you so.  He was 9 lbs 14 oz, 22 inches long with a head circumference of 15".  We were told the average head circumference is about 13". With pushing out his head and his arm at the same time, you can understand why I'm still a little sore.

Delivering the placenta was easy, but gross. It felt like a ziploc of Jell-O just plopping out of me. I asked to look at it and all Jared said was.. "Uh.. honey, are you sure you want to see it?" Of course I did, no matter how gross it was.  I mean really, it was disgusting but it was also pretty cool, too, despite the weird smell.

During the delivery I sustained a second degree tear so the midwife set to work stitching me up. Being stitched was a weird feeling because it actually hurt a lot more than I thought it would. You would think that after pushing his head and arm out that a few stitches would be nothing, but they bothered me more than they should have.

They bathed Oliver and had me try to pee before going up to the recovery room. I was still too drugged up to walk so they forwent the peeing and wheeled me upstairs anyway. I could tell I was about to pee myself, so they brought me in a portable little potty chair and helped me flop onto it, and I have never peed more in my life. It just kept coming and coming and the nurse was thrilled with my ability to pee. I guess I'm a good pee-er. For the record, though, that was the worst pee of my life. The stitches were horrid and all kinds of nasty plopping clots came falling out of me.

The rest of hte hospital stay was pretty good. We had Oliver rooming in with us so we got plenty of time to get to know him before bringing him home. Luckily, Oliver & I have been pretty good a nursing. The staff was very impressed by how much he pooped in the hospital. He graduated from nasty meconium to orange-yellow baby poo before we even got home. I haven't gotten cracked or bleeding nipples or anything, and now as of a week later they're barely tender at all.

Having him home with us has been going pretty smoothly, aside from some problems with the apartment. While I was in the hospital a pipe in our bathroom ceiling broke and was leaking above our toilet. I called the landlord from the hospital but the problem wasn't fixed until we were home with Oliver. We had to juggle being in and out of the house because we didn't want O to be around all of the construction dust from the holes they cut int he ceiling. 

All apartment issues aside, though, things have been (knock on wood) easier than I thought. I was really worried that I wouldn't be able to take care of him and that breastfeeding would be really hard but thus far I'm feeling pretty confident.  Oliver has regained his birthweight already (which they don't expect until he is two week old, not one) and he seems to be a pretty content baby so I can sort of relax now. He has been sleeping for 4 hour stretches through the night so we've been able to get a decent amount of sleep, which I think helps a lot.

Sometimes things do get a bit emotional though, but since I know its normal I'm trying not to worry too much. Sometimes I can just look at Oliver and cuddle him and it makes me tear up, even though I'm not at all sad. There is a woman on The Biggest Loser who had her 2 week old baby killed in a car accident and that made me cry. Sad stories on the news bother me a lot more right now. Its really inconvenient because when I get all emotional my milk lets down and I drip onto my shirt. Jared has been really supportive of me though and even when I'm crying because of the kittens on TV he's very understanding.

Jared has been a great dad. Its easy to see that he really really loves Oliver. At first he was very worried to handle him and hold him but he is getting more and more confident as time goes on. Jared changes his fair half of diapers and gets up at night more often than I do. He always brings him in to me to nurse so I don't have to get out of bed as often. Oliver loves his daddy and knows who is Daddy and who isn't. I truly feel like having Oliver here has made Jared & I even closer, despite all of the extra work he entails. I know its going to get harder but for right now I can honestly say I am happy with where my life is at, even if its not hwat I planned and I don't know what the future will bring. 

Later I'm going to write about breastfeeding and what its been like to wake up in cold puddles of rancid smelling breastmilk, but for now I'm going to get myself dinner before he wakes up. O & I are going to a coffee shop tonight with a friend of mine, so we're both pretty excited to get out. Email for pictures if you haven't gotten any, I'm not sure if Jared wants me to post any photos of Oliver or not.

(PS! I am wearing a pair of normal jeans that are only 1 inch waist size too big for me. Its exciting, and I only have one pair of maternity long pants that fit me.)

update via jared

10:40 7 cm dilated, our little unit of resistance should be here today!

In the hospital.

Okay... So.. I'm in the hospital stuck for a long time it seems. They didn't seem too optimistic that he'll come out today. But also I am highly uncomfortable. I've been getting contractions but..... You know.

The creepiest thing is that I can hear a lady screaming. Like... really screaming her head off. Its unnerving. Its freaking me out. I was trying to watch stupid Animal Police or osmething but all I can hear is "OWWW OWW oW!" and loud full on screams.

I was sitting here for a couple hours before they even did anything. It sucks here.

Here is the run down of what they're doing:

1. Cervidil. Its uncomfortable. "Vaginal Insert" would be better described as "Sandpaper ribbons that are pushed up inside you." Its supposed to soften my cervix and relax my muscles but it also might give me contractions and make him come out. So far, nothing really. It does mean that I have to be on the monitors and I can't move. Plus this is a breakaway bed so there is a big line going under my butt and my feet stick off the end because I am too tall. yuck.

2. After the 6, 12, or 24 hours of the cervidil working, they'd start me on pitocin. Which can take a few hours to work. That is the part that gives me horrible pain. I don't want that part. I want to go home.

---I wrote that part at about noon. Still nothing going on, except that my contractions hurt but are doing nothing. They'll check me again at 11:30, then probably put another cervidil in which dcould be another 12 hours. That is the nurses' guess. The pitocin takes a long itme too so you all need to RELAX because he's not coming out anytime soon.

How many times have you heard me say that?

Anyway... I don't know what I want as far as visitors tomorrow because if the nurses are right he won't be out until tomorrow evening or possibly even Thursday. So I'll sit here on this crappy crappy bed (I can feel the bars underneath the mattress) until they come in at 11;30 to check me and drug me to sleep.

Maybe more later, maybe not. To be honest, the blog isn't my first priority as you may be shocked to hear right now.

PS if you want to call, you're welcome to see if I want visitors. Call Fairview Riverside's birth center and ask them for my number. They'll put you through. Otherwise you can call Jared's cell because I think mine is on silent. I might remedy that after I've gotten some sleep so you could try my phone too maybe.

My new neighbors are poopyfaces.

We got new neighbors across the hall. I don't like them. They're poopyfaces. I've never actually met them but I am already certain I don't like them. I'm sure there must be a good reason. I want Kiko to back. Even though she didn't speak English, she was very nice and above all else quiet.

Today was mostly uneventful. I went shopping with my mom. I watched judge shows on TV. I read some from my new books I got at Barnes & Noble's USED section. (Did you know that BN now has a used section? I didn't. I was delighted when I walked in there yesterday and found that they had my book in stock used for only $6.)

Jared was feeling pretty sad today after he figured out that he didn't get the job he applied for. I tried to cheer him up by writing a cute message on my stomach to him from Babyzilla but it sorta turned out creepy for two reasons:

1.) I started to run out of room, so I couldn't see where/what I was writing once I got any lower than my belly button. The message "Feel better, Daddy" becomes very creepy when its written in a hasty serial killer's hand.

2.) I used a purple highlighter, which coincidentally looks an awful lot like the stretch marks that are ALL OVER MY TUMMY. So not only is the handwriting creepy, it also looks like it is written in stretch marks caused by Babyzilla doing freaky torturous movements inside of me. You have to admit, that would make a good scene if they were to remake The Exorcist again.

It made Jared feel better, anyway, though. :) (It probably helped that I also gave him a rice crispy treat.)

The doctor's appointment on Friday was boring as usual. I scheduled an induction on Tuesday if he doesn't come out by then, meaning Wednesday is the latest possible day for him to come out. I'm really dreading being induced but I guess there isn't anything I can do to escape it. He just won't come out. This is going to hurt. A lot.

7 steps to a more pregnant you!

How to commiserate with somebody who is more than 40 weeks pregnant:

Supplies Needed for this Craft:
-Hair shirt
-Molded back brace for scoliosis (2 sizes too large)
-Two or three buckwheat pillows
-Bungee cords
-Ankle weights
-Chinese restaurant in close proximity
-Sauna
-A bevy of hired helpers

Step 1: Put on hair shirt. Feel the itchiness on your tummy. ENJOY IT.

Step 2: Attach buckwheat pillows to the front of your body via the molded back brace. (Non buckwheat pillows could be substituted but I feel like the buckwheat truly provides the most realistic firmness and heaviness to most accurately throw off your balance.) Tighten straps of back brace until you can no longer bend at the waist.

Step 3: If you can still breathe, wrap approximately 3-5 bungee cords around the brace at chest level. Surely that'll stop that pesky breathing you've been doing!

Step 4: Attach ankle weights to your ankles. (Flesh coloured ones work best because I mean, hey, if you really were pregnant those would be your ankles.) What? Can't bend over to reach your ankles anymore?! Try about 30 different yoga-like positions to try and get them on. Maybe that will work. ...No? Didn't work? Give in and ask somebody for help to strap them on for you and listen to the crap they give you about not being able to bend over. Honestly, the longer you listen the funnier it gets. You'll LOVE hearing that joke.

Step 5: Go to Leann Chin's or the Chinese restaurant of your choice. Go there for at least one meal a day, or until you 1.) have enough sodium in you that your extremities and face have bloated beyond recognition and 2.) know each & every employee by name. Revel in that bloated feeling, and also in the looks that you get from the restaurant's employees. Of course they're staring at you because you're gorgeous, not because you are x days past due, shoveling in obscene amounts of Moo Goo Gai Pan, swollen little fingers struggling with the chopsticks.

Step 6: Go about your normal daily activities... IN A SAUNA. Sweating is very motherly. Don't wear deodorant because I am sure there is something in it that is ABSOLUTELY DREADFULLY POISONOUS to you and your unborn baby. Just because there isn't proof of that yet doesn't mean its not true. Somebody's cousin's uncle's baby was born with a lopsided head & weak cheekbones and you know what, his mother wore deodorant every day and that is probably what caused it! You wouldn't want to be a bad mom, would you?!

Step 7: Enlist your hired helpers to call you on your cell phone and/or email you several times an hour just to double check that the baby has not come out yet. Because of course they know more than you do, and you are CERTAINLY going to have that baby in the next half hour and you had better be getting to the hospital RIGHT NOW. You will receive bonus realism points if they manage to call every time you are in the bathroom and/or trying to take a nap.

To please the masses.

I haven't written in a while because there isn't anything I can say that will really please you folk except for "HE IS HERE! HE CAME OUT" because all of you are secretly assured that you will be the last to know. Well, I've got news for you. One of you unlucky saps will be the last to know. I apologize in advance, but somebody's gotta be the one. If its you, take comfort in knowing that you protected others' feelings from being hurt.

So... latest news. No, he's not out yet. He doesn't want to come out yet. I've got another doctor's appointment & ultrasound on Friday just to check on him and if things look good they'll let him go even longer. It could be agonizing for you people out there! It must be so much work for you all to be waiting by the phone/computer. Don't worry, I'm doing my best to get him out but he can't come until I get my free ficus trees. That is this afternoon, so, you know... Maybe you can hope for tomorrow or something. I'd probably be ok with that.

This morning I took a nap for like 4 hours. That was really nice. It would have been nicer if I had had a yogurt snack after I woke up but... There isn't any yogurt. There's not much milk either. No bread, no fruit, no toilet paper. Its probably time I go to the grocery store but I'm just too tired. I don't want to go by myself because I get more attention from strangers if I'm alone. Having another person there must act as some sort of weirdo deflector, I don't know.

Jared had a job interview this morning. I hope it went well for him because he really wants this job. I have mixed feelings on it, but it pays more than his last job and he'd have to work less hours so... I guess that is one thing to mark in its favor. I wish Jared didn't have to do so much but there isn't really any way around it. He needs to take the classes he's taking, because most are offered only once a year. His schedule is pretty rigid, so that while I know its not his choice to have night class until 9:30 some nights, I still hate it. I want to make sure he has enough time to be home with his baby and get all of his school work done too. He says he can do it and he says he can work hard but part of me worries that he has no idea how much work its going to be for everyone involved. I know he's a hard worker and I know he gets things done but I don't want him to kill himself over his schoolwork and make himself unhappy either. I guess its something I'll just have to cross my fingers on and hope for the best. Right now there isn't much else I can do about it until we see how things go. Maybe Babyzilla will be an easy baby and maybe Jared's classes won't be too difficult, you never know.

Today my mommy is coming over to help me with some last minute cleaning and organizing of the house. I just wish I could get everything done one time to say its been done!

Guess who isn't asleep? Hint: She is pregnant and she refers to me.

I can't sleep again. It sucks.

I went to my fridge to-do list to see if there was anything I could do on it, but there isn't really. At least not at 3AM when I'm really tired but uncomfortable and my leg feels like somebody tried to break my shin in my sleep. Why does it hurt? I don't know.

There are about 9 million things on my "birthday list" on the fridge. It started as a birthday list, then became a wish list and now its down to little things that the house needs. You can see how I got less and less ambitious as the list goes on... It starts with normal, acceptable things like a waffle iron. How I'd love waffles. What lofty appliance attainment aspirations  have I to celebrate the day of my birth.  At the bottom of the list, I  scribbled down shower curtain rings. How lame is that? Lets celebrate me being alive for 21 years by HOLDING UP MY SHOWER LINER PROPERLY! Rebellious. I guess if I really feel like treating myself I'll get a shower curtain too, but lets not get hasty here. I mean, I'm only turning 21, not like its the big 3-o or anything like that.

Since today was my due date everyone in the world called me. Which is nice, but I'm tired of people calling to say am I in labor already and why didn't I call and share the good news already don't you  know I'm just anxiously waiting with my life on hold by the telephone here? I've been trying to tell everyone that I've still got forever to go, but apparently no one believed me. I ate Leanne Chin's with my friend Kari tonight and a lady in the restaurant said, "You won't go past tonight!" Thank you, lady, for effectively telling me that I look so huge and I waddle so much that surely there must be a baby's head in my crotch ready to fall out. 

Well, I mean, there is but. Still. She didn't need to go around bringing that up. Especially not while I was trying to enjoy stale fortune cookie.

I'm glad that at least tonight is Friday so Jared doesn't have to get up early for school tomorrow. I guess school has started off well for him, but I don't usually hear much about his classes because they are always trumped in entertainment value by his stories about the 16 bus line. The 16 isn't the most savory of lines because it goes to the midtown area and thus attracts its share of weirdos and err... shall we say ethnic people. Today somebody tried to sell him drugs on the bus. Yesterday he was freaked out because he thinks a crack addicted prostitute accidentally bumped into him.

Now, while this very well could be true on the sixteen, it could also be a bit of an exaggeration. To me, Jared seems to think every person who looks in the least bit unkempt and/or has a backpack is homeless. Didn't brush your hair this morning? Decide to walk to class with your backpack on? HOMELESS! Also, as a couple, we are quick to assess strangers for possible mental disorders after all of the abnormal psych classes I took. So... between those two things, there really is no way of knowing whether or not the rider in question was a crack addicted prostitute or just an older chain smoker wearing clothing meant for someone 20 years her junior. It could really go either way. Midtown has its fair share of people in both categories I'm sure. I wish I had been there to see her for myself and make my own judgement. As it stands, I'll believe Jared because it makes for a much better story than "one time my boyfriend brushed up against a gross looking lady who dressed too young for her age."

(Since I've written that, approximately 80 percent of my readership will wonder if I am living in a shady 'hood filled with crack addicted prostitutes. I'm not, I swear. My area is really very nice excepting the occasional drunk college student on the weekends. Yes, I lock my doors. No, I don't take candy from strangers. But I do get into strange men's cars to help them look for their lost puppies, because only a soulless person could say no to lost puppies.)

(Now approximately 70 percent of my readership will believe that I truly do get into strange men's cars and will send me an estimated 13 email forwards on safe living as a vulnerable woman in the big, vicious city. Bring them on, baby, bring 'em.)

At home for once with internet!

I set up Mom & Dad's internet yesterday so they let me borrow their portable cell phone internet card thing. It doesn't get the best reception here, so sometimes I've got to wait a few minutes to get at what I want but its wayy better than nothing. Jared's job is to call Comcast tomorrow so maybe we'll have wonderful internet soon. (But don't hold your breath. Jared hates calling strangers as much as I do.)

Last night was a loong night. I was awake for almost all of it. At about 4 AM I started going crazy because all I could do was stare at the little red light on the TV and be uncomfortable. The only thing I could think about how just about 99% of the world seems to think I'm doing something wrong.

I know thats not true, but at 4AM when I was battling with satanic Panasonic LED light,I was first in line to believe it. I had to get up and do some neurotic kitchen cleaning just to take my mind off of it. I was feeling pretty bad about myself, because I feel like I suck so much in comparison to every pregnant lady at the doctor's office, grocery store, etc.

The first thing I do when I see another pregnant lady is assess whether or not she has a wedding ring. Most do. If by chance they don't, I make excuses for them guessing that maybe their fingers are too swollen to wear rings. After years and years of Catholic school, I'm bound to feel at least a little bit guilty but I thought I'd be over it by now. I'm not. I've had a lot of strangers comment on my ring-less finger, so its made me even more self conscious. Sometimes people try to be nice about it, but other times people are openly apalled that I've even dared to show my face in public. In the last couple of months I've started lying to people, giving them the line about my fingers being too puffy for a ring. I just can't say that I'm single without wanting to cry anymore. Its stupid, and I know I shouldn't care but I still do.

After the ring assessment, I go straight on to judge how "grown up" they are. I always feel like a kid in comparison to everyone else in the OB's waiting room. Everyone else has years on me age-wise, and the ones that don't always seem so much more together somehow. They have blackberries, they're wearing kitten heels and their make up is perfect at 8:00 in the morning. They schedule their next appointments around their work schedules, and they all sit together reading Oprah's magazine or Better Homes & Gardens. I've never once seen anyone else go for the National Geographic like I do. No one else seems to show up in flip flops, and I'm willing to bet they're not wearing rummage sale clothes like I often am.

Don't get me wrong - when I'm thinking clearly I'm pretty proud of how well I've done so far. I've come a long way in preparing to have the baby. I'm pretty confident in everything I've got in place so far. I don't really mind the rummage sale clothes, I bet most people can't tell anyway. I don't get embarressed when I'm the person in line using all of the newspaper coupons. I'm really proud of myself when I find a good deal on craigslist. I sometimes have a lot of fun being cheap, but at times I do get jealous of the people who have it all. Sometimes I lose my perspective and I feel like everyone in the world is watching me and waiting for me to fail.

Because really, I don't know what I'm doing, and failure seems to be the easiest, most available outcome sometimes. I'm still so excited about having my own place, and I still feel a sense of grown-up accomplishment when I write out the rent check. I like going grocery shopping because I finally get to make whatever I want whenever I want. All of these things make me happy, but at the same time they make me feel kiddish and stupid. I feel like if I really were grown up, I'd dread all of those chores instead of relishing how responsible they make me feel. I'm scared that I'm doing everything so fast that I won't be able to do it all when I have the baby, and thats the worst time I could fail, when somebody else is so completely depending on me.

Even scarier is the thought that I'm so young and inexperienced, but yet my family is so old. Last night I thought a lot about people in my family dying, especially my parents. I felt like if my parents were to be gone, I'd be all alone. I know its not true but I feel like I couldn't take care of myself if I were to wake up without them tomorrow. With my parents being so much older than most of my friends' parents, I've always kind of thought about that in the back of my head but its a lot scarier now that I'm supposed to take care of my own baby. Taking care of myself on my own is a lot different than taking care of myself and my son on my own. I still feel like I need my mommy there to teach me everything. I don't know how I can ever be as good as my mommy was to me.

I never even realized how good she was to me until I stayed at a friend's house while Mom & Dad were on vacation. I got really sick with the flu. My friend's mom didn't bring me Sprite and she didn't come in to check on me. She didn't bring me a healthy lunch on a little plastic plate and she didn't ever come in just to sit on the edge of the bed and ask how I was doing. My mom used to read on the floor in the hallway when I had a hard time staying in bed by myself, and lots of times she would stay there a long long time. She was always the advocate for me when my older sister teased. She let me ride in the front seat sometimes.

One time in the summer, she packed a lunch for us and we hiked up the bluff in Hixon Forest. I was so tired and I thought for sure I wasn't going to make it to the top but when we did I remember thinking, "Yeah, my mom is the coolest in the world." We ate peanut butter & jelly sandwiches with butter on them. Later, I started hating that she buttered my sandwiches but I think then I was young enough that I didn't even know there was any other way to make PB&J.

All of these things seem small and stupid but its easy to remember them and feel good. Even when I was in trouble and I was sent to my room, I sang a song which always started, "I love my Mommy, she's really nice." The rest of the verse was pretty much me making up nice things my mom did for me, and it didn't have any set tune but the "I love my Mommy" part was really the hook of the whole song. I sang it a lot until my sister heard me one time and never stopped teasing me about it.

But, how am I supposed to compare to that? How am I supposed to be able to do all of those things that made me love my mommy so much when I can't do half of the stuff she can? Her laundry always smells better, she makes the bed so much neater, and she's always always always kind to everyone. I just don't know how I can do all those little things that are so important to kids when I'm trying to figure out so much other stuff like school and a job. I wonder how to do all of that when I'm lying awake staring at that damn red light.

But ANYWAY. I know this post is long and it doesn't make much sense. I was going to go back and edit a lot of it, but I thought that'd take away some of its meaning. I know its been a long time since I've really posted, so here are the updates some of you might have missed. Other than this, I'm just waiting for him to come.

1. I went in for an ultrasound at panicky doctor's request and the baby looks good. He got an 8/8 score, and as of Monday he was guessed to be anywhere between 7-9 pounds. Thats good becasue it looks like his growth has slowed so he won't be the 10 pounder I feared.

2. I've started on the robots in his room. They're about halfway done and I love them.

3. I've unpacked a few more boxes, but I still have osme left. If they're not done by the time he comes I'm going to make Jared hide them in the basement so I can pretend they're not there.

4. I've only got 6 more days left until his due date and everyone is getting anxious, except for me. I'm pretty much willing to sit back and wait. Everyone else thinks he is going to come out in approximately the next hour from whenever I've last seen him/her.

I've sort of half packed a hospital bag, but I unpacked my camera and video camera so we can document some of this experience. I'll post photos here and on facebook for all of you people who are far away.

Now I'm going to go to bed and hope I sleep better than last night. Thanks for listening. :)