Thursday, June 28, 2012

Skippy Says: 34 Weeks (Pregnancy Journal)

34 Weeks

Dear baby girl,

Well, we're back home in San Francisco. As much as I love this city (and you'll quickly realize it's a lot-- you already have a few infant San Francisco books in your library collection) I would not have said no to another week in Maui. Or two. My only concern was the (unsolicited) heaps of people telling me I was bound to have a "Maui baby" if we didn't get back soon. Um, I'm supposedly still six weeks away from your arrival. But thanks for not so subtly telling me I look way bigger, kind strangers. That combined with someone repeatedly telling me they love to be in photos with me because it makes them feel less fat have been huge ego boosters this past week. Mama's riding high!

But, you know, there's really not much I can do. I work out at the gym (hard- shhhh don't tell daddy because I promised his paranoid ass I take it super easy) at least 3-4 times a week. On days I don't go to the gym I stay active by hiking or at least walking with Ryder. I eat lots of delicious salads, veggies, and fruits. Lots of whole grains, beans, and legumes. Occasional fish. I'll admit a weakened resolution to saying no to pizza, but not all that often. So if my belly (and hopefully you!) are growing despite that, well, so it is. And if that makes people feel better about being "fat" themselves, I guess I'll consider that my good deed of the day.

Sidenote: Daddy ate an entire huge Costco box of sour belts and a whole package of oreos on our trip, as well as lots of pizza and burritos. I ate lots of salad, watermelon, and pineapple. He did not gain any weight. I did. He sucks.

My big belly is attracting lots of attention though. Just today, a little boy on the bus pointed at me and yelled really loudly: "Look, mom, she's having a baby!" His poor mom looked really sheepish, and refused to make eye contact with me. Her son blatantly stared at me, wide-eyed and mouthed, until they got off.  Lots of random strangers are sparking up conversations, and daddy says my random-smiles-from-strangers ratio is super high. Score.

I still feel, more strongly than ever, that you're coming early,  Like, real early. Scary I'm not ready for you yet early. Grandma said my belly dropped in the week we were in Maui, and I also feel like you descended. And landed right atop my bladder. Thanks buddy. Hang in there- mama needs some more time to get her shit together. But words cannot describe how excited she is to meet you. Now she'll stop talking in third person so you don't punch her in the face for this when you're older and reading this letter.



Thursday, June 21, 2012

Skippy Says: 33 Weeks (Pregnancy Journal)

33 Weeks

Dear baby girl,

Hello from Maui! Between battling the ridiculously slow (and often non-existent) internet at the condo we're renting here and being dead tired from our (glorious) day, you almost didn't get a letter this week. But when I get my mind set on something it's hard to stop me. Plus, can you imagine how infuriating it would be for my OCD to have a letter for you every week except for one? That gap would drive me absolutely insane. So I willed the internet to get going with all my might (and refreshed the page about 100 times as I impatiently waited for it to load) and here we are.

When daddy and I were on the plane coming here, he looked at me, smiled, gave me a kiss on the cheek, and said "happy fake moon." You see, daddy thinks I made the concept of a babymoon up to get him to take time off work and go on vacation. If only I were so clever. No, we have someone else (probably the hospitality industry?) to thank for inventing the concept for our getaway. To them I send my sincerest mahalo.

We spent our first few days here split between swimming on stunning beaches and walking along them. Well, that, and making sure we're back in time for daddy to catch some really important basketball game he wanted to watch. I don't know much about it but daddy impressed the gravity of the situation on me by explaining that this is "like the world series of basketball." Which I don't really understand either except for that it means it's serious stuff.  Plus, me agreeing to come back meant I got a foot rub for being a good sport, and you know I'm not turning down an opportunity for one of those.

Today was spent doing the road to Hana drive, stopping at the "Garden of Eden" botnaical gardens and the Seven Pools along the way. We did a bit of a hike at the Seven Pools, going all the way up to one of the greatest and most stunning waterfalls I've ever seen. It was hot and we stupidly did not bring any water on the hike, so daddy kept urging me to have us turn back early, but thankfully I resisted and persevered. It was totally worth it. I think you felt my excitement and wanted to see what we were looking at as well, because at one point you were pushing up against my stomach so hard I thought you were going to break out. Don't you worry- you'll have your chance. I can't wait to take you here one day and see your face light up at the beauty of it all.



Thursday, June 14, 2012

Skippy Says: 32 Weeks (Pregnancy Journal)

32 Weeks

Dear baby girl,

I should warn you that I've been up since 4:00 am, so this letter may be a bit incoherent. Why have I been up since 4:00 am? Well, let's just say I won't be eating watermelon right before bed anymore. Because after getting up several times to, um, use the facilities, my body was like no way am I going back to sleep tonight lady- you're just going to wake me up again in half an hour to go again. After fruitlessly struggling for a while, I gave in and accepted my fate. On the bright side, daddy got a warm, freshly cooked breakfast on a weekday. Which I think means I can weasel a massage out of him tonight.

Adding to my incoherence is the incredible excitement I'm feeling right now. Daddy just learned that he is able to get some time off from work, so we decided on a super last minute babymoon to Maui. As in, we just booked our tickets less than an hour ago, and we leave in four days. F-o-u-r. Foooooooooouuuuuuur. 4. And we go for a whole week. And maybe, just maybe, he doesn't check his work email for that whole week. I know, I know, I'm a crazy dreamer. But the wiring in my brain is all criss-crossed from excitement so I'm shooting for the stars. Oh, also, I'm hoping I can coerce daddy into going swimming with dolphins again. We did that last time we were in Hawaii and it was pretty much the best thing ever. I'm thinking I can get him on board with the never-failing "but I'm carrying our child for us." Thank you, baby girl. In return, I promise to take you to play with dolphins in Hawaii after you're born. And I promise to try not to shove you out of my way too hard as I make my way over to nuzzle them. It's the least I can do.

Oh, and per last week, I made good on my promise. My hospital bag is nearly packed, with just a few little things left that I am still waiting to get from my online order. Which means you better make good on your end of the deal and hang out inside me for another eight weeks. Because while Hawaii is no doubt lovely, I'd rather not have to fly back to the mainland with a newborn.



Thursday, June 7, 2012

Skippy Says: 31 Weeks (Pregnancy Journal)

31 Weeks

Dear baby girl,

There was something in the air this past weekend. First, my cousin's wife, who is was pregnant only about 4 weeks ahead of me, gave birth to a baby boy. Since you're probably not very good at math yet, I'll spare you the headache and tell you that's 6 weeks early. I'm not very good at math either, but counting on my fingers rarely fails me and my fingers tell me she was 34 weeks. Then, one of my good friends, who is pregnant about 5 weeks behind me, went to the hospital because she was having contractions. My trusty fingers tell me that she was only 25 weeks when this happened. And I learned both sets of news with, oh, 2 minutes of each other. And then I freaked out and started yelling at daddy about how I'm really not kidding about needing to get our hospital bags packed.

Thankfully, you stayed put. I gave you a firm talking to about needing more time to cook you, and I think we have an understanding. I mean, after I told you you couldn't come out yet, you poked me, and I poked you back. If that doesn't constitute a contract, I don't know what does. Just kidding Professor Gergen, I totally do! It's: 1. Apparent assent to undertake an obligation; 2. A legal basis for enforcing that promise; and 3. Sometimes an adequate writing as evidence under the Statute of Frauds. And NO, I did not have to go back to my contracts outline to look that up (I totally did). Sigh. Not only is your mama a total nerd, she apparently also has really bad long term memory. Or is this short term memory? Uh, I'm pretty sure it's long term. Sigh again. Your mama apparently doesn't really know the difference between long and short term memory.

Even though I'm confident you're not the type of girl to break our contract, I've began getting some things together for the hospital bag. I already have some stuff, and I ordered a few things I still need online. Once those arrive I'll pack everything up all nice and neat. In the meantime, I'm controlling my OCD need to get this does ASAP in the only way I know how-- I made a long list of things I need to bring, and highlighted everything on it. As I put together the things I have, I'm crossing off and un-highlighting. The things I still don't have are therefore boldly and tortuously flaunting their un-crossed yellow highlighted selves at me, making sure I get them done sooner rather than later.  Because what's worse than to do list items that are both un-crossed AND highlighted? That's a double whammy right there.

In all seriousness though, the time to your arrival really is ticking down so quickly that I'm getting anxious about getting everything done. I KNOW, that is SO uncharacteristic of me, right? I think the fact that we still have about a month and a half of construction left before we can move into our new house (and that's a pretty generous estimate) is really starting to weigh on me. In theory, I know that if you come before it's ready and we're still living at your uncle's house it's not a big deal. But that's only in theory. In my gut the thought makes me so anxious that I feel my insides being all twisted up. And then I think about how that stress can't be good for you, and stress out about that, and then I twist up some more. So I propose a deal: I'll get everything I possibly can ready for you ASAP (note that the house is out of my control), but you still hold on to your end of the bargain and stay inside my belly for at least nine more weeks. Mmmm-kay?



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