Feeling ugly? Think you wanna get pregnant? Read this.

(sorry about the crazy spacing issues, Blogger is #%*&ing retarded)

Last summer, my body looked like this:

This summer, my body looks like this:

That's right, folks, my cankles have completely swallowed my ankle bones and are going for my entire feet in general. Do you know how laid-back a girl has to be to handle this nonsense from her body? I haven't even been OD'ing on salt. Add to this the fact that I'm not wearing nail polish. What has happened to me?

Things are serious. At age 20 (21 on June 4, I kindly remind you), I'm already a stinkin' shlumpadinka (pardon the Oprah-coined term). My hot little body has completely up and left, and I've all but given it a big kiss and waved it good-bye. My ambition to be a "cute pregnant lady" went out the window several months ago. Sweats, t-shirts, no makeup and ponytails are my signature maternity look. Pulling on a pair of jeans is quite an effort for me. Probably the equivalent of wearing stilettos and a dress for most women.

Lil dude, this is all your fault. Well, I mean, mostly kinda sort of, of course. It's not like I've been peeing myself with eagerness to do any form of exercise or eat super healthfully during my pregnancy. However, I've never gone hog-wild on an eating binge, even though I've had plenty of good excuses. And looking at the whole picture, 40 lbs isn't an extraordinary gain for a pregnancy. (Those of you who refer to past posts to compute my current weight will be punished in one form or another.) But whatever. That's still 40 lbs.

Wait much longer, lil dude, and Mommy might lose her cool about all this. What is "all this," specifically, you ask?

Well, for starters, my inner thighs are rubbing together so often that I think I might start a fire in my crotchal region. Second, my butt cheeks are getting so chummy that I think they might fuse together. They're so close my poop has to ask permission to slip through them. Did I really just write that? I'm sick.

My upper arms, despite a declaration by me to never let them get this way, have developed the classic "pregnant lady arm flab." If I move my arms away from my body too quickly, the top of my arms perform some sort of hypnotic dance that would be rivaled by gypsies everywhere.

I don't even want to talk about that thing sitting on top of my shoulders. If you can look past the plethora of zits, you will see that my face has ballooned to a good twice its original size. For this reason, I have vowed to not allow any photos of my face post-eight-months-pregnant to end up on the Internet. (Unless it is for serious photojournalistic purposes, like my blog, of course.)

And, as you have seen, the cankles. They really weren't that bad until about the last week. The increasing temperatures probably have a smidge to do with it.

This is the first time in at least a decade that my toenails have been naked. Please don't look, they're very shy. I have decided to forgo nail polish for the time being due to body contortion and phthalate reasons.

Finally, the belly. That lovely waist with the cute (slightly tacky, nowadays) navel ring? Oh yeah, we've already discussed this. I rest my case.

In summary, it's still time to get the heck out, lil dude. I haven't forgotten that you're in there. You're not a very good hider.

Random ramblings of an increasingly impatient expectant mother

Silly me, I thought for sure I would have lil dude before my due date. Turns out I'm only that lucky in my head. Lil dude's first due date (the second being June 5) is tomorrow, a whopping three hours away.

Fingers are crossed for labor and delivery tomorrow...as they have been every day since Monday. Maybe he's just a big procrastinator like Mommy and doesn't want to complete a task before it's actually due.

I thought today might be the day since I couldn't sleep last night and it is storming tonight--two events that happened before I went into labor last time.

No way will I ever get desperate enough to eat that spinach dip again to bring about labor (and puking and peeing out my butt). Spinach artichoke dip was on my list of greatest loves ever. Now? Well, not so much. It probably wasn't the cause of my illness, but it won't ever be the same. I hope I never get sick after eating a bloomin' onion. If that happens, I'm not sure I'll ever come out of depression.

Lil dude's dad headed back down south today. This afternoon when he left I told him I would see him later tonight. More wishful thinking on my part. Darn me.

At my doctor's appointment this morning I hadn't dilated any further since I left the hospital--still three centimeters. We set another appointment for Monday morning, at which point she will probably discuss inducing me. Craziness.

They gave me some much-appreciated prescription heartburn medicine today. Heartburn was definitely a factor for my insomnia last night. It also made me not hungry for a McDonald's breakfast bagel today--practically unheard of.

Also crazy? My 21st birthday is less than a week away, and I don't even care. I most likely won't be partaking in any alcoholic beverages to mark the occasion...or even leaving the house. Only a birth or a death could make me this indifferent about that. Thank goodness it's an impending birth!

I'm still undecided about whether to have lil dude receive his first dose of the hepatitis B vaccine at birth. It's not necessary to have it done that early and there are risks with getting the shot, but it most likely won't cause any harm and will be consistent with the obnoxious vaccination schedule. My fear of autism and the non-necessity of it will probably lead me to mark "not at this time" on the form.

It's not that I'm particularly uncomfortable being this pregnant or that I'm that impatient/anxious/excited for lil dude to be here. I'm just really bored and don't feel like cleaning any more. :-)

Labor, no delivery.

The labor advisory system has been raised to a level of High, or orange. Here's a synopsis of why:

Sunday night I had another case of the infamous double-ender--that is, puking and diarrhea at the same time. Repeatedly. This, of course, wasn't in the least bit enjoyable. In case you were wondering, spinach dip looks much the same coming out as it did going in...but it smells much, much worse.

About 2 a.m., Grandma (quite easily) convinced us to go to the hospital to have them check things out. After double-ending in the emergency room bathroom, they finally got their butts in gear and gave me some IV fluids and hooked me up to the monitors. Baby was doing fine, of course, as his never-ending happy hour in the womb was probably just experiencing a little turbulence.

At about 4 a.m., they checked my cervix to see if I was dilating with the contractions I could hardly feel in comparison to the flu pains. I had dilated to three centimeters, so they officially declared me "in labor" and moved me to a labor and delivery room. I was in a whole lot of pain, but still excited to get it all over with.

In the midst of this, I would have killed someone to get a gigantic glass of ice water. I wanted nothing more than a great big pitcher of cold, watery goodness. They gave me ice chips, which I wasted no time in trying to melt faster. Dehydration + nausea sucks.

Anyhoo, I gave the alert to lil dude's father, who had to wake up my future roomie at 4:30 a.m. to get a four-hour ride up to Iowa. You see, his car had broken down a few days earlier and won't be fixed until Thursday, adding to the madness.

Well, to summarize, after I finally got some anti-nausea meds that knocked me out, they arrived, travel-weary, to the nurse staff telling them that I had not been progressing and that they were probably going to send me home after another cervical check.

Shitballs of fire.

I had only dilated a half-centimeter in four hours or so, despite the contractions seeming to get stronger before my dose of phenergan. They sent me home around noon, telling me that the stomach flu I was experiencing had probably sent me into labor. And then nothing.

So here I am at home, been through labor but no delivery. Stilllll waiting. Lil dude's dad is here until at least Thursday, when he has to find a way back down to take care of some things. The pressure is definitely on.

We went for a walk last night and I was having contractions, so things were looking up. However, any inkling of a contraction has disappeared this morning. To top it off, it's a rainy day outside, so walking again will probably not be on the agenda.

So that's that. Now Mommy's not messing around. Time's up yo.

Still *hint hint*ing

Since I'm here at home, sitting on my ever-expanding arse, just waiting for you, there is nothing of substance to write about.

However, since it is getting relatively late in the game (*ahem* gettheheckoutalready!), I would just like to remind you, lil dude, that we have been gifted several adorable size newborn (5-8 lbs for the unacquainted) outfits that I know you would just love to wear.

What I'm saying is this: don't you even dare think about waiting to come out until you're 8 lbs or more. My vagina and your wardrobe would much appreciate it.

In other news, your three cousins are staying over tomorrow night. Hopefully you will decide that they are pretty cool and that you'd like to come out and play with them.

I (somehow) got around to arranging and vacuuming your room today...after finally rolling myself off the couch at 4 p.m. Your bassinet has also been lovingly set up.

Considering that your cousins are coming tomorrow and the fact that Grandma isn't going to clean up any of her messes, let alone theirs, we're pretty much giving up on cleaning the dining and living rooms. Deal with it.

My stomach skin and back have just about had it with your shenanigans. They're kind of important body parts to me.

I'll be packing my labor bag tonight.

These are just some things to think about while you're still casually living it up in your perfectly heated swimming pool... sucking up all my nutrients and energy like it's a 24-hour, all-you-can-drink happy hour.

{ on second thought, forget coming out, just let me in there! }

It's in the stars

Congrats, lil dude. You are now in the clear to be born a Gemini, just like Mommy! I've never been into astrology, but it is late and I'm bored and I looked it up.

According to the ultra-reliable (ha) Wikipedia, as Geminis, we are concerned with "Gemini matters" such as communications (well I'm a public relations major), siblings (mine is pretty okay, you won't have many), neighbors and neighborhood matters (community is pretty important I guess), local travel and transport (who doesn't like traveling?), education (yay learning), everyday matters (obviously I blog about absolutely nothing), and brothers (brothers? I don't get it). Interesting huh?

Some other website says this about us:

"Gemini is symbolized by the Twins. You're flexible, flirty and inventive. Intelligent to the extreme, your idea of a good time is a lively conversation -- or better yet, a friendly debate. Thanks to the Twins' influence, you sometimes feel split in two directions and don't know what to do!"

Hmm...well, I'm not so sure about the twins symbol. Anyone who has ever seen me knows that my "twins" aren't anything of note, to say the least. However, they'll hopefully be a great meal source for you.

Flexible? Well I was a dancer and cheerleader...but I'm guessing they're not talking about limberness.

Flirty? Puh-leez. I either insult people or awkwardly avoid them and hope for the best.

Inventive? Fo' sho! I was the Invention Convention champ in 1997. My t-shirt still fits me, thankyouverymuch. I never patented my invention, but someone else evidently did as it was being sold on a Nickelodeon commercial a few years later. Still waiting on my money, thieves...

Intelligent? Well, that doesn't really need any discussion, now does it?

So yep, we're Geminis. Go us.

If you're ever in need of some fake, ambiguous advice or predictions, you can find yours under the Gemini tab.

Due to the recent events regarding the dilation and effacement of Nicky's cervix, the Department of Homegirl's Uterus is raising the Security Advisory System to a national threat level of Elevated, or Yellow.

At this time there is no credible information warning of an imminent, specific threat to the homegirl. Carry on.

Woot woot!

I'm dilated to 1.5 centimeters and thinning out!!
Do you know what that means?!!

...okay, fine, so it really doesn't mean absolutely anything. I could go into labor any day or weeks from now. Whoop-de-doo.

Still, it's a bit exciting to know that something has been happening down there when I was sure I wouldn't even be dilated a bit.

Dear lil dude,

Can you come out to play now? Mommy's bored. We still have a lot of cleaning left to do (including intensive vacuuming and steam cleaning) before your arrival, but you're getting a bit too heavy to make that much fun. I'll find out tomorrow if you're making any progress down below (your entrance/exit door). I have a feeling it might be a couple weeks yet, however. Just letting you know that you're welcome any time now! Hint, hint.

Love,
Mommy

I'm just gonna throw this out there...

Tired of viewing camera phone pictures? This is my current camera:
except much rougher-looking. It came into my life circa Christmas 2005. It's probably a battery problem, but it really isn't at the top of its game anymore--meaning it decides it is capable of taking two pictures before saying there's a battery issue. If it decides to work at all.

My birthday is June 4.

I'm having a baby soon who is sure to be adorable. Babies love to have their pictures taken with real digital cameras that work, dontcha know? And word on the street is that a higher megapixel count and an optical (not digital) zoom cures colic and increases IQ tenfold. Yep. Uh huh.

Just sayin'...

{ now accepting donations of hand-me-down/used digital cameras that are better than mine. it's true, i'm shameless }

I'd like you to meet...

...no, not the baybay, but judging from my length of absence you would have guessed that he came, right? Sorry to disappoint. Still just me and the belly here! We made it home safely with all my crap belongings in tow. Unfortunately yet fortunately, the house is a total pigsty, making/letting me spend all my time and whatever energy I can muster on purdying the place up. It's too exhausting to go into any more detail about it, really.

Anyhoo, I'd like to introduce you to someone else very special in my life. I should have introduced him/her/it earlier as it has been around for a month or more. Ah, well, here goes.

{ WARNING: do not view the following pictures if you are within two hours of a meal }

Introducing...

my sole stretch mark!! I shall call it Bob, since it is a product of my Big Ol' Belly.

See it? It's a crappy phone picture so it's hard to make out, but Bob is there. Let's take a closer look...well, okay, a zoomed-out look actually.

This is the belly today:


And the analysis:

• Red oval: my lovely, crooked linea nigra, which I will not miss once it's gone
• Orange ovals: scars/holes from the puncture wounds where my belly button ring used to reside
• Yellow oval: funky looking popped out belly button, in a very odd position during photo time thanks to lil dude having a case of the wiggles
• Green oval: not stretch marks (thank goodness), just indents from my favoritest pair of sweats
• and the Blue oval: Bob him/itself! He's much pinker than he appears here and kind of resembles a lightning bolt. Charming, right? Evidently scar tissue (from the piercing) doesn't "do" the stretching thing too well.

As you have probably deduced from these exceptionally unflattering photos, the ninth month of pregnancy is anything but glamorous. Fortunately, there are many other things to keep me distracted from the horror that is my body. Who can dwell on the 10 pounds I've gained in two weeks when there is soooo much cleaning and organizing to do in an indeterminate amount of time?

Shyeah. This pregnancy thing is a hoot. I'm just hoping Bob doesn't get any new friends in the next few weeks.

Packing up life as I know it

Tonight is my last night in a dorm and in this town as a college student. The next time I return, my major life title will be "mom." I'm not so sure how I feel about that. Have I really prepared myself for this? Am I totally warmed up to the idea? Am I ready to let go of my old life?
I'm leaning heavily toward no.

I can't really, actually have a clue of what's in store for me. Do you really know what motherhood is like before it happens? Sure, babysitting or being a nanny can give you a pretty good idea, but then again, those kids aren't yours.

When I move my stuff out and head north tomorrow, I won't just be saying goodbye to my dorm or my staff or the town for the summer, I'm essentially bidding adieu to the entire life I've known. It's an interesting situation: I'm literally packing up my belongings and heading straight for life as a mom. No detours, no traffic jams, no scenic routes, just a one-way trip to the land of mom.
For the rest.of.my.life.

I've been excited and really anticipating move-out day for months now, but now that the time is here...I really don't want to go. Being a 20-year-old college student isn't hard. I have thoroughly enjoyed my free time, my freedom and general lack of responsibility. Tomorrow, I'm going to hang on to my doorknob until someone comes and drags me away. Maybe if I stay here, in this room, room 265, it won't happen; I won't go into labor and I won't become someone's mommy. I can't do this, who am I kidding? Nine months is not long enough for me to be ready and okay with this.

I have to realize that life is not a VCR or DVD player. There is no stop, no pause, definitely no rewind, and as I discover each finals week--no fast forward. There is only play. It's going and there's nothing I can do about it. This is a plot twist, and it's painful for me to watch.

It's difficult for me to ever think that I'm ready for motherhood because I definitely didn't want to be a mother at this point in my life. I could go on and on about the things I wanted to accomplish and experience before this...but there's really no point in it. Thinking about it makes my heart hurt. Only rarely do I let myself think of the things I'm going to miss out on and what I'm giving up. I refuse to let it sink in. What happened, happened. In a month or less, I'm a mom forever. Forever. Forever.




{ one word: abstinence }

Gettin' a moooove on it

I've finally figured out the best way to clean/pack up a dorm room when you are nine months pregnant:

Throw everything on the floor, then scoot around on your butt with a trash bag trailing. Oh yes, it is the only way.

In related news, I think I need to come up with a better craft/scrapbooking storage solution. What do think?

Three years of crafty obsession is fit to bust outta this canvas tote. Fabric supplies not pictured/able to squeeze in. Thank goodness this town doesn't have a Michaels/Hobby Lobby/JoAnn nearby. That would be a financial and organizational disaster on so many levels.

Two big finals tomorrow, one doctor's appointment and 36 residents left to check out by Friday at 6. Wish me luck!