Incoherently Yours

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I leave my pregnancy books (yes, that is plural. Ok, it’s only two. Well, plus a pregnancy journal.) out and about. They are usually flipped open to whatever page I was browsing. I never thought much of it. Until one day out of the blue, Sheldon starts quoting it. “Exactly how much water are you drinking?” “Did you know you are supposed to be eating rice and pasta and dairy and just where exactly are you getting the iron you are supposed to be getting if you refuse to eat meat half the time?” And then he goes through my regular vitamins and pre-natal vitamins and says, “Ok, you’re off the hook. Your pre-natal gives you 35 mg of iron and you only need 30.” I love this man. He really is quite super awesome with this whole pregnancy thing. He does kinda treat me like glass. But, since I am higher-risk and have been spotting for awhile, I can’t blame him. He doesn’t let me lift anything. He has no problem with me sleeping in and napping. He also knows I sometimes have trouble sleeping and ...

Where are you? I am not usually one to complain about the weather. IN fact, it usually irritates me to no end when people can't find anything better to do than whien and complain about weather. I feel like shouting "DUDE. You live in ALBERTA. This is normal. This is how it's always been. DEAL." However, I have lost hope. It feels like spring is never coming. There is snow everywhere. And not pretty snow. No. Snow covering up ice, dirty snow, snow with puppy ickiness all over it. BLECH. I am over winter. I am having issues dealing with it. And so I have momentarily joined the complaint wagon. Because UGH. I miss the sun. And green grass. And flip flops. Dearest Spring, please don't forget to visit. I've always believed in you. Don't let me down.

Baby Blum is doing good. He's ALIVE!!!! YAY!!!!! And he's measuring perfectly for nine weeks. Muhahahaha. Good job, baby, good job. And he's already cute. A very cute little baby blob. Maybe next time I see him he'll have arms.

I’m pretty sure being ridiculously excited is zapping all my energy. Well that, and spending the whole day running around Edmonton yesterday. I predict a day of napping. Glorious napping! I saw him* yesterday. My little magic bean. My tiny miracle baby. So small. So tiny. So real. He doesn’t quite have a fully working heart yet, but his cardiovascular system is in the works, and we could see the miniscule little flicker. We did it. We are going to have a baby. God answered our prayers. He said yes. I am so happy. It doesn’t matter that science still calls him an embryo. And then a fetus, and THEN a baby. He is my baby. Right now. From the moment he was conceived. He already knows a mother’s love. Ok, ok, enough sap. I gots a baby in my belllyyyyyy. So. Yes. Eight weeks. And I had to buy maternity pants. Dear baby – WHAT IS UP WITH THAT? Is it because you are a magic bean you are taking up so much room? Hmmm? In my book it does say some women show early if your abdominal muscles were no...