I Get a Kick Out of You

Great news!  Since the last post, I've been taken off bed rest and was able to attend the E3 conference in Las Vegas with my work.  I had a sonogram around 19 weeks along, which confirmed we had a little girl and she was growing on schedule, but the placenta was still pretty low and our little girl was not cooperating in letting the technician get all of the measurements she needed.  So, the doctor wanted me to have another sonogram six weeks later to follow up, which was today.  The sonogram today showed that the placenta has moved up, which is great news!  Plus, the baby was measuring a few days ahead at 25 weeks.  The tech estimated that the baby weighs a pound and thirteen ounces or so, just about a pound and three-quarters.  She had both of her hands up by her face- we even got a quick glimpse of her sucking her thumb! So cute!!

She has been moving and kicking a lot now- you can even see her making my stomach move as she kicks and squirms around.  It's so cool to see these weird movements going on in my tummy and to feel such strong kicks.  Ryan likes to poke my stomach and watch her kick back- though I get annoyed with being poked from inside and outside :)  I keep telling her to enjoy moving while there's still room.  According to the baby books, weeks 24-28 are when there's still a lot of room for the baby to move around easily, so she has about three more weeks until she starts getting cramped. 

After the past month of fears and worries, I have a lot to be thankful for.  Praise God that the baby is healthy and everything is ok- and every time I feel her kick I'm reminded that God is in control.  

My Girl

Wow, what a crazy 48 hours it has been.  It all started Tuesday afternoon when I began having some light spotting.  So far in this pregnancy there hadn't been anything out of the ordinary, it had all been very standard and textbook.  Everything changed Tuesday though.   My doctor told me to take it easy that night, stay off my feet, and come into her office in the morning.  So Ryan and I went to her office on Wednesday, and she checked the baby's heartbeat (162), examined me, and had an ultrasound done.  Everything seemed to be ok, so I thought that was it and it was just a little scare.  But it wasn't over.

Later that afternoon, I began to have some moderate to light bleeding with clots.  After another phone call to the doctor, she told me it was probably nothing,  but she had received the results from my ultrasound and it showed that I had a low lying placenta so she wanted me to go see a high-risk doctor for a sonogram just in case.  I was to stay off my feet the rest of the night, no lifting, no standing, and she would schedule an appointment for me.  As the afternoon went on, and the bleeding continued I really began to panic and worry.  It was so scary to know that there wasn't anything I could to stop whatever was happening, and that I just had to wait.

So, this afternoon my mom and sister went with me to have the second ultrasound done. The doctor measured each little thigh bone, each little arm, showed us the heart, and told me that the baby was healthy and doing great.  The baby was measuring at exactly 17 weeks like we thought and weighs seven ounces.  And then he told me that he was 100% sure it was a girl.  There was our perfect little girl waving her arms and kicking her feet on the screen.

He told me that the placenta probably was the cause of the bleeding, but it wasn't in a position that would cause concern, nor did he see anything concerning.  He told me that if I don't have any more bleeding between now and my next doctor's appointment then I should be okay.  But, another episode of bleeding would lead to serious complications, including losing the baby.  So, I am on bed rest for the next ten days and am not allowed to do anything except sit and work on my laptop.

While the next week should be interesting to see how I handle bed rest, I'm so thankful that everything is ok.  It was such a relief to know that the baby is healthy and to get to see her in the sonogram.  And we're so excited to be having a little girl!!

Baby Thomas Already Has to Meet Expectations

As soon as people find out you're pregnant, the worst part comes: everyone has their own patent-pending way to tell if you're having a boy or a girl. All they'll need is a few bits of information--Sara's blood pressure, baby's heart rate, what foods Sara is craving, her sleeping habits, how the baby seems to sit in the womb, was it cloudy outside when you found out?, and did the day of conception end in "y"? Look, random lady at Target, we don't know what we're having. You asking if Sara's belly button is an "inny or outtie" is not scientific. That's why we put a poll up on our blog, to help us figure it out.

I'm going on the record, I'll be happy if it's a boy OR a girl. There are advantages to both, and disadvantages to both. I just want it to be healthy. And have some sort of talent that can be parlayed in to a College Scholarship.

When previous generations in a family have done something, there is the natural expectation that the next generation will follow. Sometimes it is natural--if you live in a city dominated by one industry, it's easy to have four generations of coal miners/steel mill workers/GM factory workers. Other times it's difficult to expect the next generation(s) to follow that same path. George Bush Sr. never pushed (or in some accounts, wanted) George W. Bush to become President of the United States, but he followed in his dad's footsteps just the same.

The Mannings are a rare case. Archie Manning played Quarterback in the National Football League for 12 seasons. He didn't win a lot of games, and definitely didn't win a Super Bowl, but his career was still successful. When he and Olivia had three boys, I'm sure it was very easy to try to push football on all three and hope they would all be second generation NFL players. As it turns out, both Peyton and (to a lesser extent) Eli would become more successful in the NFL than their dad. Not often does the next generation copy and then improve upon what those before did. And for every time that the pattern repeats, more pressure is put on the next era to "continue the streak". It's not fair but it's human nature, can't be helped.

And then there are those expectations that you can't hope to live up to. Since 1890, every first born child on my Dad's side of the family has been a boy. That's not an old wives tale, that is historical fact. I found this out last night, and my first thought was that our child isn't even the size of a loaf of bread and it already has an unrealistic expectation to meet.

Two times is a pattern. Three times is an interesting story to tell at Church. Four times is a pattern, but FIVE generations in a row?! That's something you can go to Vegas and bet on. The odds of that happening are 1023 to 1.

The sex of our baby has already been determined, and there's nothing I can do about it now. But now I feel unintended pressure to make sure our child is the sixth generation first born male.

Glad I'm an administrator on this blog, so I can change my vote on the poll without anyone knowing.

Big Girls Don't Cry

We have a new rule in the house: no human interest stories around me while I'm pregnant.  I decided that we needed this rule after I started crying while watching a segment on the 6:00 news, and then again in a clip from "American Idol," and I don't even like the show.  Even before I was pregnant, it honestly didn't take much to make start crying.  But now, I can cry at anything.  Ryan and I were watching an episode of "How I Met Your Mother" one night (the one where Marshall suprises Lily at airport) and Ryan couldn't believe it when he looked over and saw tears streaming down my face.  What can I say?  It was a very sweet moment on the show.

I knew that there would be a lot of crazy things happening during the next nine months.  However, I didn't know that they would start so soon.  Almost immediately after getting pregnant I discovered the most devastating food aversion: chocolate.  I tried eating some about a week after we found out, and was surprised when my stomach was so upset that evening.  I brushed it off though, and tried to eat a few pieces the next day.  And fifteen minutes later couldn't understand why my stomach was so mad.  It was then that I put two and two together: the baby doesn't like chocolate. Whoa.  I was not prepared for this.  There have been multiple times that I have tried sneaking a bite in- brownies over Thanksgiving, a bite size 3 Musketeer, a few chocolate chips.  Each time, I get awful stomach cramps.  It doesn't even sound good most of the time now; it's just something that I remember fondly in my past.  Chocolate and I have a long history together, and there's been some great memories. I can only hope that after the baby is born, I can once again enjoy the rich, delicious taste.

But, like with most first loves I've moved on: to strawberries.  And mangos and raspberries and nectarines and kiwis. So, although I may be crying while watching the news, I at least have strawberries to cheer me up.

How Roger Goodell and the NFLPA May Ruin My Child's Life

Long before we found out we were pregnant, Sara and I would talk about when to/not begin trying to have a kid, laying out reasons why one part of a year would be better than another--and also which year would be better than others.

Believe it or not, football played more than a minor part in that.

The NFL Players Association (the Union for NFL players) and the NFL Ownership (NFL executives and any non-player not employed by a team) are coming to the end of their Collective Bargaining Agreement--basically, the contract between the players and Owners. The CBA expires on March 4th, and the next season cannot begin until a new CBA is signed by both sides. Conventional wisdom says that a new agreement will be reached, but when. If it's late enough in the year, both sides might prefer to start with the 2012 season, and just let the 2011 season die completely.

One of the most compelling reasons Sara and I had for not bringing Baby Thomas into the world in 2011 was the possibility of her being born in a non-football year. Both of us agree that this is bad luck, and doubly so if Baby Thomas is in fact a boy. I could see my recurring dream of hearing "With the first pick in the 2033 NFL Draft, the Dallas Cowboys select.... ______ Thomas!"

I've always been fearful for how the labor negotiations in America's most popular sport would come to an end, but now it's not just my future that's at stake--now my child, and his/her future, hangs in the balance. So please, Sara and I beseech you, pray for these negotiations, and that our child can be brought into a world with professional football--instead of one devoid of happiness.




(I'm just out of frame in this one)

We're having a....Pirate Ship?

At week 7 we went to the OBGYN to hear baby's heartbeat, and get a sonogram. I didn't expect to be able to count the dimples on our child's face, or tell what color hair it would have, but I guess I did have some misconceptions about the quality of the images.

Hearing the heartbeat was amazing and each time I've heard it since, it makes my life stop. But when they handed me the printouts from the sonogram, I wondered if I had to cross my eyes and tilt my head slightly to the left in order to see anything. It was a blob. I mean, I GUESS there was something there, but I found myself nodding and saying "oh, yeah, there it is" to everything the nurse was pointing out. And how did I know that SHE could see anything either? She could have pointed to a pixel blip on the page and told me that was my baby's hand, and I'd never know the difference.

It instantly took me back to those Magic Eye books and posters from 1994--of which, the only one I ever successfully saw was the pirate ship (in every other case, I blatantly lied about being able to see the Polar Bear drinking a Coke or grasshopper balancing on a dandelion).

See for yourself.





If you look at the sonogram and uncross your eyes for precisely 47 seconds, you can see our baby practicing the Heisman pose.

Wishin' and hopin'?

I probably spent a good three days convincing myself that I didn't need to take a pregnancy test.  I had some pretty good arguments, too.  Such as, I had been traveling to Denver, so the flying and time change (yes, I realize that it's only one hour) affected me.   Or, that I had a delayed ovulation or possibly didn't even ovulate at all.  Yes, that was it, after the stressful summer and the new acquisition, it made perfect sense.  But, I would stare at my chart with its obvious thermal shift and count fourteen days and realize that day 14 was actually three days ago.  After I had dinner with my sister and couldn't bring myself to order a margarita I had to admit that maybe, just maybe, the chart wasn't wrong.

So, after picking up a test on my way home I was still doing a great job at convincing myself it was negative.  We had been discussing the idea of a baby, but were still at the "when" stage.  When would we want to start trying?  When would be a good time for us? When will our finances be in a place to support a baby? When would we be out of an apartment and into a house?  But, God had reminded me that He was in control and whenever we had kids would be when He planned.  I felt at peace after this, and was thankful that I have a Father who is in control.  A week later though, I was staring at the positive test and telling Him that I changed my mind.  

I sat on the bathroom floor for several minutes unable to move from shock at seeing a positive pregnancy test.  When Ryan came home and I showed him, I was still shaking and in shock.  The next day I went to my family doctor's office to confirm the test, and was still couldn't believe it when the doctor came into the room telling me congratulations and giving me a hug. This was just added onto when she asked me if I was taking prenatal vitamins.  Prenatal vitamins?  I had only been pregnant for twelve hours and already I was behind?  So now I was in shock, with a good dose of guilt thrown in.

But, I soon scheduled an appointment with an OB, which helped ease the guilt.  And then I got onto the Internet.  When in doubt or unsure, always go first to God and pray, and then go to Google to educate yourself.  I started figuring out due dates and such, and realized that our baby would be due mid-to late July.  My guess was July 19th (I ended up being off only by one day.)  Wow, July 2011.  And I started smiling.