For all you Waitress lovers, it's so hard not to entitle this Dear _____ baby (not bc I mean it, but bc it's funny)

Dear large plum,

You are now 12.5 weeks old.  Although, when you are born it'll go back to zero which is confusing.  I hope you are growing big and strong in there.  I read that your head is no longer the same size as your body and that you no longer have a tail...whew.  I don't mean to sound relieved, I'd love your tail - but it's just easier if you don't have one.  I also read that if I poke you, you'll squirm around.  I'll try not to poke you too much, but man am I curious to see what it feels like to be able to feel you move inside of me.  I think we're a few months away from that step, but I can't wait.  This past weekend Mom (your Granny), Granny (your great Granny) and I worked on the quilt that will go in your room.  I think you're going to love it.  I'm hoping it'll be a fun place to call your own.  Even if all you do is poo and spit up on it.  Anyway, it was great to hear your heart beat this week.  It sounded good, strong.  I keep calling you a him, but I don't care if you're a boy or girl - I already love you more than you know.

On Wednesday you will meet your NY family.  Although, they won't know you're there until Saturday.  I'm not sure how I'm going to hide you, since you've made me quite round already.  I'm planning on using the cold weather to bundle up.  It will be hard to resist telling my Aunt Vic about you as soon as I arrive.  I'm not sure how I'll last 3 days hiding you (both physically and emotionally!).  You are going to love your NY family and they will most definitely love you.  I wish that they were closer to us in proximity, but that doesn't make their love any less strong.  It's my hope that you will find refuge in NY with them, just as I have over the years.  Family is most important little one.  Learn it now and live it always.

Love, Mom (OMG, I'm going to be called Mom - minor freak out.)

3.5 vs 9?

My doctor (stupid nurse keeps saying my weight out loud!) says I've gained 3.5 lbs, but my scale at home says 9.  I'm going to go with the doctor, I mean they don't make a ton of cash a year to be wrong about these things.

My Iphone app says I'll start to show next week, but that is completely ridiculous since it looks like I've eaten donuts every day for a year without ever leaving the couch - TODAY.  So far, I've only really cried (hard) about none of my clothes fitting once.  Which seems pretty good to me.  It is a hard thing, watching your body change in a society that likes stick figures.  But I will battle hard to appreciate every pound, inch and curve because it means that this baby is growing.  But please, when you see me do not tell me how big I am.  Please refrain from asking if I'm having twins, as I am not.  And when I tell you that I'm not, please don't ask me "are you sure? looks like twins."  It is also just common courtesy, to ask to touch my stomach before you do.  I will say yes, but again - it's just common courtesy to ask before you thrust your appendage onto my personal space.  Thanks in advance.

Here is something I'm looking forward to indulging in -

Oh and we've done a bunch of stuff to the outside of our house - isn't it looking good?!  As a special treat you can see Milo in the reflection on the new storm door.

Pure genius.

Tina Fey Hard At Work

“First, Lord: No tattoos. May neither Chinese symbol for truth nor Winnie-the-Pooh holding the FSU logo stain her tender haunches.
May she be Beautiful but not Damaged, for it’s the Damage that draws the creepy soccer coach’s eye, not the Beauty.
When the Crystal Meth is offered, may she remember the parents who cut her grapes in half And stick with Beer.
Guide her, protect her when crossing the street, stepping onto boats, swimming in the ocean, swimming in pools, walking near pools, standing on the subway platform, crossing 86th Street, stepping off of boats, using mall restrooms, getting on and off escalators, driving on country roads while arguing, leaning on large windows, walking in parking lots, riding Ferris wheels, roller-coasters, log flumes, or anything called “Hell Drop,” “Tower of Torture,” or “The Death Spiral Rock ‘N Zero G Roll featuring Aerosmith,” and standing on any kind of balcony ever, anywhere, at any age.
Lead her away from Acting but not all the way to Finance. Something where she can make her own hours but still feel intellectually fulfilled and get outside sometimes And not have to wear high heels. What would that be, Lord? Architecture? Midwifery? Golf course design? I’m asking You, because if I knew, I’d be doing it, Youdammit.
May she play the Drums to the fiery rhythm of her Own Heart with the sinewy strength of her Own Arms, so she need Not Lie With Drummers.
Grant her a Rough Patch from twelve to seventeen.  Let her draw horses and be interested in Barbies for much too long, For childhood is short – a Tiger Flower blooming Magenta for one day – And adulthood is long and dry-humping in cars will wait.
O Lord, break the Internet forever, that she may be spared the misspelled invective of her peers And the online marketing campaign for Rape Hostel V: Girls Just Wanna Get Stabbed.
And when she one day turns on me and calls me a Bitch in front of Hollister, Give me the strength, Lord, to yank her directly into a cab in front of her friends, For I will not have that Shit. I will not have it.
And should she choose to be a Mother one day, be my eyes, Lord, that I may see her, lying on a blanket on the floor at 4:50 A.M., all-at-once exhausted, bored, and in love with the little creature whose poop is leaking up its back. “My mother did this for me once,” she will realize as she cleans feces off her baby’s neck. “My mother did this for me.” And the delayed gratitude will wash over her as it does each generation and she will make a Mental Note to call me. And she will forget. But I’ll know, because I peeped it with Your God eyes.
Amen.”
-Tina Fey

(That my friends, is what you call good writing. Pick up Tina Fey’s book Bossypants for more.)

And in case you're crying now, read a few of these:

http://damnyouautocorrect.com/7683/food-fails-our-10-favorite-foodbeverage-autocorrects/

A miracle, every one.

A series of very scary events, led to getting an unexpected glimpse of our sweet one.  Everything is fine.  In fact, the ninja was in there flipping, punching and kicking away.  I think he was trying to show me that all is well. It worked.  It is never too late for a new perspective and today I got one.  I have spent most of this pregnancy waiting, wishing time would go faster.  It's mostly driven by fear, if I can just get to 12 weeks, if I can just get to the next sonogram, if I can just get to the next appointment.  Tomorrow is promised to no one.  This isn't how I want to enjoy the miracle of growing a human.  So, today marks a new beginning.  Today, I will appreciate every moment (even when acid reflux has burned my esophagus, I've eaten a whole roll of saltines with no relief, and none of my clothes fit) and tomorrow I'll be thankful for a new day.

Here is today's picture of baby skeletor.  Today, he's 11 weeks old and the size of a fig!  He's laying on his back, feet up, facing the camera.  Don't worry, he actually has eyes and a nose - not just dark, creepy holes.  :)  I think he looks like Chris, or an ant.  Either way, I love all 2 inches of him. 

What do you say?

Yesterday, a friend lost his baby.  A baby that he and his partner had not just been anticipating, but had worked hard and struggled long to have.  What do you even say?  Words can't express the sadness that I feel for him and his family.  I'm just so sorry.

Miscarriage is a common result of pregnancy.  I have tried to steer clear of reading about this subject because of the fear that has implanted itself in my life.  I know rationally that I am at no more risk than any other women (my age at least).  But that doesn't stop that fear from taking root inside my head.  It's the biggest surprise of pregnancy to date.  The minute I knew this sweet thing was growing inside of me, I became gripped with a need to protect it.  I pray a dozen times a day (beg more like) that this baby will grow, become strong, live.  It is a daily struggle to relax and remember that I am doing everything I can, but I am not in control.  In the end, life will take its course the way it was intended all along.  But that isn't always a comfort.  But I pray that they will find comfort somewhere, anywhere in this horrible time.

The sadness I feel for this couple is combined with anger.  It shouldn't be this hard for a loving and stable couple to have children.  It doesn't make sense to me that with all the children out there that need a loving family, and my friends have to jump through hoops, go out of state, and wait longer for a birth mother that doesn't mind that they are the same sex.  It doesn't just not make sense, it makes me mad.  Honestly, I'm not trying to preach (although I'm pretty sure I'd be preaching to the choir with the friends I have) but please explain it to me.  Basically, people hide under a religious flag gathering wrong information and use it to prevent a family from being united.  What happened to the religious flag of love, acceptance, understanding?  Or how about just a desire to find kids that need one loving homes?  If we cannot agree on anything, can we not agree on this?  In the end, it is just a sweet family that wants the children they can't have on their own.

Give credit where credit is due

I have to say that one of the best parts about being pregnant is how much it's grown our marriage.  It has been SO fun going through all of this together.  Chris has been wonderful.  There have been an endless stream of gifts, flowers, sweet words and more for the past few months.  There have even been sympathy stomach aches (I prefer this theory over the one that I'm a bad cook) and conversations with my stomach about being nice to your mom.  I have no doubt that we (tiny orange and I) are both loved very much.

My most recent beautiful flowers!

Chris went out of town a few weeks ago and he left me two gifts per day to open while he was gone.  At the end of the week, I accumulated some fantastic lotion, 2 movies I had wanted to see, magazines, chocolate treats and a Kindle!  Here's a picture before I opened any of the presents.

I love you Chris!!  Thank you so much.

Kumquat?

This is apparently the size of the guy growing in my belly.  But what is it?! 

Okay, it's apparently some sort of strange tiny orange?  Is there another fruit option that our baby could be because the word kumquat makes me giggle uncomfortably.

The kumq...er...tiny orange has entered the fetal stage which means all of the major developments are done forming, now on to the growing stage!  He looks like an alien.  I'm not going to lie, it's a little strange growing a human and all.  But at least the tail and webbed feet are gone, we are officially not having a tadpole!  Hooray!

Granted I haven't been pregnant for very long and only a few people even know, but please God do not say these things to me (or any pregnant lady):
1. "You'll want an epidural.  I've seen labor and it is horrific."  Great, thanks for the advice.  I'll probably cry at home about this later and it will be your fault.
2.  "Are you sure you want to eat that?"  Hell yes I'm sure I want to eat that.  I want to eat everything!!!  I am GROWING A HUMAN!!!
3.  After getting off the scale at the doctor's office..."weight is _____."  Okay, great.  Now I can no longer pretend that I haven't gained weight because not only have you said my weight out loud but you've said it OUT LOUD to my very skinny and fit husband.  Awesome.  He lovingly pretended that he didn't hear and I love him for it.
4.  "Baylor Hospital is the best place to give birth in Dallas, it always wins a bunch of awards."  Ya, well I'm birthing at Presby so suck it.