Baby Boot Camp!

Last night, Steve and I attended a "Baby Boot Camp" class put on by the family support center on base. We had a nice time, the instructor was great, and I think we learned some useful things.

For the first part, we had to go through a power point presentation and some handouts with info like what to pack for the hospital, what items we need for the baby - you know, the usual stuff. There were only 3 couples there, including us, and we were all due in June; we were the only couple expecting a girl. So, after the usual lecture information, we head down the hall for the fun part - hands on practice.

We all got dolls to work with and the first step was how to hold the baby. The author of the class was a man who had an army background, so everything had these cheesy army nicknames. For example, the basic hold of the baby was the "port hold" (something to do with how to hold a gun or something. I guess the baby could be considered a loaded weapon, huh? ; ) We had to practice passing the baby between the two of us and transferring to different holds. Steve was too cute - holding the doll all gingerly.

Next up, we had to change the baby's diaper! Loads of fun. Poor Steve, he was trying to follow the instructor's directions of how to hold the ankles and pull the baby up to slip the clean diaper underneath. Something just didn't compute between his head and his hands, but he eventually got it. The instructor thought it would be great to pass around pictures of baby poop. Good thing I hadn't eaten.

And sidebar here - we were there for THREE HOURS and they didn't feed us! Don't they know pregnant women be HONGREE. Yes, I said HONE-GREE, not HUNGRY. It's a whole other level of needing food. But I got some McDonald's afterwards, so that made up for it. : )

Okay, back to class. The instructor was using a doll that was weighted to be 8 pounds, and she would pass it around for all of us to see how a real baby might feel. Goodness! That thing was heavy! Eventually, she pulled out the other 8 pound dolls, so we all got a chance to work with them. We next had to dress those babies - with the admonition to "put the clothes ON the baby, not the baby IN the clothes."

Then, we learned what is supposedly the sure fire method to calm a crying baby. Some doctor out in California (I cannot remember his name) came up with this method, and apparently it works wonders on all babies. It is the "5 S's: Swaddling, Side, Shushing, Swinging, and Sucking." So first, you swaddle the baby into the "baby burrito." Then, you put them into the reverse football carry and tilt them on to their side while still holding them in the crook of your arm. Next, you "swing" them a little - kinda like waving your arm back and forth. Then, you go "SHHHHHHHHH" really loudly into their ears and give them a pacifier to suck on. And voila! You have a calm baby. I surely hope it works. We will definitely give it a try.

As our time was running short, we quickly went through bath time and cord care. It was a good class overall. Again, they should have had some FOOD there, but it was helpful and we took some useful information with us. Hopefully, it will give Steve more confidence in dealing with a newborn - he's always talking about how "fragile" they are, although I assure him he won't break our baby.

In the coming weeks, our schedule is full of doctor's appointments and more classes. The Lamaze classes are in Heidelberg, which is like a 40 minute drive from our house, so I've ordered the DVD so we can do the class at home. We are also reading Dr. Bradley's book, Husband Coached Childbirth, so that we can be prepared for labor. I've got a list of things I want to get done, so I look forward to the nesting kicking in full time. I get bouts of nesting here and there, but then I get burned out and sit myself down for a while.

And baby girl is already working me over. Steve found my first GRAY HAIR!!!!!!!! Ack! That's almost as bad as stretch marks! She isn't even HERE yet and already giving me gray hairs!

We're at 31 weeks - how much longer will it be??????

30 Week Doctor Appointment

Penny is still as stubborn as ever and refuses to give us a good 3D shot. She had her fist up by her face the entire time and refused to look at us. Stubborn as her daddy! She didn't attack the monitors this time - just a few kicks here and there. I think she must have been tired, since she didn't seem to sleep at all the past few days.

Everything is looking great still. She is growing on schedule. She is not a large baby (which is fine by me), but not too small either. She weighs about 2.5 pounds so far, but I'm sure she will start putting on more weight in these last weeks. She seems to be narrow, but kind of long. She still has Steve's nose, but it looks like she might have my lips. I just can't wait to see her! It's fun trying to picture her, but I can't wait to see her in person.

No progress to report so far, as far as dilation goes. We did the group B strep test today and should have the results in a week. I'm still on the every-other-week schedule, and between baby classes on base and breastfeeding class, our next month will be very busy! I hope it will make the time go by quickly.

The countdown is on!!!! As of today, we've got 67 days left!!!! (But I'm hoping she comes a little sooner.)

Baby Gear

We've been having fun the past several weeks shopping and putting together some of our baby gear. Here are the pics . . .

This is the crib . . . we finally received our bedding set that we ordered. We are doing a black and white music theme for the nursery. We've got the changing table, too, but still need to get all the wall decorations.


Here is Steve putting together the swing that was a gift from my sister, Jessica.

Here is the finished product! I love this swing - it can swing from side to side or back to front. I didn't even know they made such things! Hopefully, Stephanie will like it, too.


Here's Steve putting the finishing touches on the stroller.

Our house already looks like a baby resides here. There's baby gear all over the place. I guess I'd better go on and put up my crystal picture frames and vases and everything breakable.

Now, we seem to notice everything that is unsafe in the house. Steve is scoping out the best baby gates for our stairwells. He was sitting on one of the balconies one day and commented how he doesn't want the baby out there, because of the potential of her falling through the banister. I have this really crazy fear of her falling on the granite stairs that lead to the basement and busting her head wide open. We rarely lock the front door that leads into our house (we do lock the outside door that leads to the corridor to the front door) and now I'm paranoid about her walking right out the door - gotta lock that door from now on! I want to kill all the bees that seem to hover around the house, lest my baby gets stung. (No, I won't kill the bees, I know they are already disappearing.) The worry never ends, does it? At first, I just wanted to make it to the end of the first trimester. Then, I just wanted to make sure she was developmentally perfect. Now, I want to make it through delivery and I don't even want to think about all the other things that could happen once she is actually breathing on this earth. No, I imagine the worry must never end.

I have a new-found appreciation for my parents, and ALL parents, now. Now, please someone tell me why anyone decides to do this more than once . . .

The ugly truth . . .

Today, I got all dressed up for Easter Sunday - one of my most favorite times of the year. I actually managed to shave my legs (hoorah! all by myself, too!) and tried out a new hairstyle. I put on these cute sandals to go with my dress and was ready to head for church. I made it through church . . . and through the dinner at the home of one of Steve's co-workers . . . and through the trip to the PX (got a new TV out of it!) . . . and finally made it home. And then I found out. The ugly truth.

I am developing . . .

CANKLES.

Oh. My. Dog.

Steve said he noticed my growing ankles like 3 weeks ago, but he was kind enough not to point it out. Gotta love that man!

And my feet swell. And my nose is spreading. And my arms are fatter. And my stretch marks are spreading.

I feel like I'm walking on water balloons that will pop at any minute. My back is aching so bad it is difficult to find a comfortable position to sit, let alone sleep. I've got random body parts (that don't belong to me) sticking out of my stomach and lodging in my ribs. I could spit fire from the heartburn residing in my chest.

But it's all good, and it's worth it in the end! And besides, I'm still cute! : )

Happy Easter! (I'm just about 30 weeks along here)

When babies attack!

I just got in from the doctor - it was our first of many non-stress tests (NSTs) that we will endure every two weeks until 36 weeks, then we will go every week until she is born. Well, I knew Stephanie didn't like those fetal monitors, but today, she launched a full-out attack against them!

I'm lying on this already uncomfortable cot, I've got a monitor attached to catch contractions, and another one to read her heartbeat, and I've got her head in my lap and her feet in my throat (that's what it felt like). After finding her heartbeat, and smearing me with tons of jelly in the process, the nurse instructed me to call her if the read-out went below 115. So, I'm watching this tiny screen, feeling like I'm gonna suffocate, just biding my time. And then it begins. The attack of the baby.

It started off small - a nudge here, a kick there. But when she saw that that got no results, she really began to launch an all out assault. I took several swift kicks to my ribs, some punches in delicate places, and basically watched my poor stomach convulse and quake from her pummelling. If those monitors were not strapped to me, they would have most certainly gone flying clear across the room. I swear at one point, I could hear her launching underwater missiles through the amniotic fluid. She worked herself into such a tizzy that she caught two cases of the hiccups, which we could clearly hear on the monitor. The second set of hiccups must have frustrated her, because each "hic" was accompanied by a kick to my ribs. The nurse came in and was amused at how naughty she was being. I was not amused and couldn't wait to get up. Nurse says, "Okay, 3 more minutes" and left the room and Stephanie let out all her fury and basically showed out. I am sure that there must be some internal bruising. If she could talk, she'd probably be cursing me, the nurse, the doctor and those monitors.

Good news is that Dr. Michaelides gave us a perfect 10, and said everything looked great, despite how naughty the baby had been. I sure hope she gets used to those monitors, since we'll be strapped to them for several more occasions. I don't think my poor ribs can sustain too much more of a beating, and I am sure that if she continues, she's going to punch a hole right through my stomach!

More dreams . . .

Lately, my dreams seem to be more focused on Labor and Delivery. In one dream, I went to the hospital and as I was checking in, there was some clueless guy at the registration desk who claimed he didn't have my paperwork. I started to get agitated, because I had been there already, so they should have a file on me! Finally, he found it, and then I had to give a urine sample. Yeah right! I'm gonna pee in a tiny little cup. So, I did it, and was then directed to the waiting room. Not a labor room, the WAITING ROOM! It was full of other women in labor, too. By then, my contractions had stopped, but I was determined that I wasn't leaving without a baby, so we stayed. By the end of the dream, no baby.

Two nights ago, I had an amazing dream. I delivered my baby ALL BY MYSELF - at my grandmother's house! I was in the back room, on the bunk beds, and I did everything myself, including cutting the cord and delivering the placenta. Best of all - it was all completely painless! My deceased grandfather was even there. It was quite empowering, although I have no desire to have an unattended birth - get me to the hospital with doctors and midwives! Then, later on, my baby girl was a little older, and as always seems to happen, she was advanced for her age. She was standing on her own and talking. In fact, she said something really smart-alecky to Steve, and I remember popping her chubby little hand and scolding her. She didn't even flinch. Oh goodness - is that what I have to look forward to???

At other times, I think I let out all my aggression in my dreams. I've yelled at and hit Steve (and woke up feeling so guilty and terrible), cursed out old co-workers (oh Lord, please forgive me!), told off and cursed out various family members (including last night - Lord, help me!) - just did things I would never actually do in real life. I try to stay pretty calm and mild - I hate that pregnant women always get labeled as being angry and hormonal. Better to be awful in my sleep than in real life though!

I'm headed to the doctor today - we start our two-week appointments now. It's coming down to the end!