Rest?

Is it still bedrest if you go out everyday?

I. Am. So. Bad.

This week, I have cheated with reckless abandon.

Let's review:
Monday - Movie
Tuesday - Dinner, Movie
Wednesday - Outlet mall trip 30 minutes away, Dinner
Thursday - Home Depot, Movie, Dinner
Friday - Lowe's, Pedicure, Dinner

Tomorrow, we are going to a bar and two New Year's parties. Yes, I am out of control. Someone stop me.

Although, in my defense, Josh still makes me lie down when we are at home. And I do spend the majority of my time in bed. And when we go to stores, I sit down and look at things.

So it's not like I am running around like a crazy person.

So, 33 weeks tomorrow. One more week, and nobody cares how often I stand up.

And and AND it's a mere three weeks until the stitches come out.

Oh how far we have come.

I cheat, therefore I am

Oops, forgot to put in my notice for my mini-blog vacation.

Sorry no updates, I was busy decking the halls and ho-ho-hoing and roasting chestnuts over an open fire. And also, busy cheating on my bedrest.

Hee.

On Monday, we stole away and went to see Syriana in an actual theater with actual popcorn and actual people in the audience. It was good.

Tuesday, I had a doctor appointment where I was pretty much given free reign to cheat at will.

The doctor said my cervix might be short, but it is very closed, and she is not worried about it opening up. She also said it looked fabulous and I could go out and do stuff, but not to overdo it.

Maybe if I walked around a little more, I would not have gained ANOTHER three pounds last week. That makes for a grand total of 22 pounds for the 32 weeks. I think some of it is water weight, as my rings are now tight and at one point, I could not get them off yesterday.

Nice. Now I won't be able to wear my pretty ring and I will look like an unwed mother if I have to go ringless.

It's my own fault for being such a smartass smug preggo with my 9-pound weight gain at 24 weeks. Now I am blimping out. Although, in my defense, my jeans still fit the same and my face does not look fat. So it's all in my belly, I hope.

Along with the popcorn I ate again at another movie last night. King Kong on $5, free-popcorn night, during Christmas vacation, with two very pregnant women was not the best idea. We went to dinner and a movie with our friends, Alex and Madonna, and she is due next week, so she had to be even more comfortable than me. I spent half the movie closing my eyes so I would not get motion sick and the other half trying to adjust my position so the foot in my right side would GET THE HELL OUT OF MY RIB ALREADY.

I ended up contorting myself by contracting my oblique on the left side, freeing up some space on the right side. That worked for about 20 minutes until The Blob shifted himself to the middle of my stomach, rendering me unable to sit still.

Good times.

I am thinking about asking for chairs that fully recline in the theaters for pregnant women. I would pay a premium for that. Hell, for the $10 it costs to see a flick in this town, it should already be included.

A Festivus for the rest of us

Happy Festivus!

In honor of this holiday, I am announcing all the ways I have been wronged over the last year. Of course, I can't perform the feats of strength, what with the being in bed and all, and we don't have an aluminum pole, unless you count the exposed conduit in the downstairs.

But, by God, I will make it through the wrongs. Seeing as this could take the better part of a day, I shall just list a few.

1. The cervix. The shitty, shitty cervix. Need I say more?

2. The people who tried to sell us a house with $100,000 of needed foundation work. Granted, we did get out of the deal, but come ON. Your house was falling down. Like you didn't know that -- or that there was a dead rat in plain site in the basement.

3. The stupid girls who rented our house before we moved in and almost ruined the house by running the furnace at 48 degrees. Nonstop. So the water poured down into the garden apartment. Stupid bitches.

4. The mean lady at the American Airlines counter, who first told us we would never make the flight and to get back in line, then the next lady who told us if we ran, we would make it, and then the gate agent, who would not let the pregnant lady on the plane after the pregnant lady ran a gazillion miles through O'Hare WITH HER CARRYON DRAGGING BEHIND HER.

5. The person who broke into our car while I was in the hospital on bedrest. This person stole our CDs and some change and hello, the car was parked there because my husband was sleeping in a chair while his pregnant wife tried to keep the baby inside her a little longer. Hope that burned copy of The White Stripes is keeping him warm at night.

I could go on, but you get the gist.

I was wronged. I am airing my grievances. I am moving on.

On a more serious note, I wish all of you out there on the Internets a Merry Christmas and a Happy Hanukkah and if that doesn't cover everyone, then Happy Holidays.

May your holiday celebrations be filled with fun, family, friends and competent cervixes.

Get out of jail free

The bedarrest jailbreak continues.

Today, I went to ABT (a home electronics/appliance store) in the suburbs and picked out the appliances for the new kitchen. I did this from a motorized scooter.

No, really.

And because we have no camera battery, I could not take a photo. I know this makes you oh-so-sad inside the Internets, and it makes me sad too.

This outing also included a stop for lunch at Pita Inn.

Mmmmm. Schwarma. Hummus. Falafel.

There I was tooling around ala George Costanza. The great amusement of the scooter was I could not figure out how to go a nice smooth speed. So I would either jerk to a start and continue flying down the aisle, or I would screech to a halt.

Not to mention the many times I almost banged into a display or a large refrigerator. Or other shoppers. Because you know, it's three days before Christmas and there are a lot of flipping people out there shopping.

So a big shout out for getting out of bed again. This marks the third outing in a week, as I went out for Mexican food with my friends on Tuesday night.

Just try to stop me. I cannot be kept in the bed. Bedresters unite and break your chains. Actually, only bedresters who are close to 32-34 weeks and have the OK from a doctor. I am not an advocate for breaking the rules, although I do play one on TV.

They're huge

We have now entered the realm of "porn star" with these boobs. It is official, they are huge. So huge you can't stop them, you can only hope to contain them.

And it's the containing that presented a problem recently. Being on the bed arrest, I can't exactly run out and pick up some new bras. And I wasn't willing to ante up the Victoria's Secret prices for a few I will wear for a couple of weeks. Not to mention the problem that sizing issues required me to actually visit a shopping establishment and try them on.

So at my doctor appointment today, I asked if I could have special permission to go to Target for this errand. The doctor told my as long as I went straight to that department and then straight to the checkout and home, it would be fine.

So Josh dropped me off at the door and I headed over to start looking for a suitable specimen. I found one, tried it on, too small. Found another, tried that one, too big. Settled on the size in the middle, juuuuust right.

But the entire time I was there, I was as skittish as an escaped convict. I kept thinking something would go wrong, that I was standing up too much, that I was bending down too much. I was furtively looking around, as if someone would jump out and scream, "Gotchya! You are so faking your bedrest. I knew you didn't really need to stay in bed."

So the whole experience was somewhat marred by fear. But that's OK. I was there and accomplished something and that's what counts.

My appointment today was rather fun. I had another doctor in the OB practice, as my regular doctor was out for the week. This doctor is pregnant and due to deliver next week, so that was kind of fun.

I gained three pounds this week. Yes, THREE. IN ONE WEEK. But the nurse assured me I might be retaining water and that next week I might lose some weight. Nice.

Then we did the internal, and she said everything seems fine and the baby is fully engaged and his head is in my pelvis. In fact, The Blob is lower than her baby, and it's set to come next week. I offered to trade with her if it would help.

So I am more convinced that ever that he's coming the day they take out the stitches, or within that 24-hour period afterward. I am sure Jan. 20 would be a lovely day to have a baby, outside of the fact it's Josh's company holiday party that night. And I really want to go. So who knows what will happen.

And in saving the best news for last, the doctor told me bedrest will effectively end at 34 weeks. She said she wouldn't want me to go to an exercise class, but they don't care what my weak-ass cervix does at that point and I can start to have my life back. She said I will need to still take it easy most of the time and be cognizant that I could have a 34-weeker, who might need to spend a little time in the NICU if there was a problem.

So I am not planning to go crazy or anything, but I will probably do some nursery organizing and some shopping and go out to dinner a lot. This long, sordid ordeal finally has an end in sight!

Dining out

Today (today, today, today)... I am the luckiest woman on the face of the earth.

OK, so I'm not Lou Gehrig, and I am not being honored at Yankee Stadium, but it's pretty damn close.

This evening, I left my house and went out to dinner like a normal person. I got showered, dressed up, walked out the door, got in the car and went to Fogo de Chao downtown.

I did not stuff my face with an all-you-can-eat smorgasbord of meats, I instead carbed it out with the salad bar, mashed potatoes and polenta. Oh and the 17 cheese poufs I devoured.

I had lovely conversation with my husband, sister-in-law, her boyfriend and his friend. I drank non-alcoholic drinkie-drinks and reveled in seeing all the people -- people I had not been looking at for the last 11 weeks.

I then got in the car and went home and back to bed. The world continued spinning on its axis and I don't think any animals were harmed in the filming of this event.

It was so fun and I was so excited to just be out in public for the first time. Literally, the last time I was in a restaurant was 11 weeks ago today, when I had a coffee "date" with my friend Dave before the fateful ultrasound.

Of course, now that I have done this, I want to do more more MORE. Now I want to go out every day. But really, it's only three weeks until I get regular outings anyway, so this should tide me over.

That is, until my pedicure on Sunday. But then, for real. Back in bed for three weeks. I swear. Until Christmas, when I am going to my sister-in-laws for dinner. Then I promise.

An added bonus

This child is trying to bruise me, internally.

Actually, I would not be surprised to see bruises on the outside of my stomach as well. These are violent outbursts.

I wonder if I have somehow offended him. Perhaps I have angered him with my sedentary lifestyle. Maybe he does not like chocolate milk.

But maybe, just maybe, he is trying to make himself some room by shoving the placenta out of the way. You see, I was lucky enough to stumble upon a video of the birth process. And OHMYGOD the placenta.

The Sarcastic Journalist is obsessed with placentas. I always found it amusing that she was so concerned about seeing it after the birth.

Little did I know that is because the thing is HUGE. Gigantic. Big as the baby. I am not kidding.

I made my sister watch the video and she was also freaked the freak out by it. I mean just when you think it's over, you birth something that looks like a major internal organ.

You know, some women save it. They plant it under a tree or something. In some cultures they eat it, my sister informs me. Which led to this exchange over IM today:

Beth: You know, in some cultures, they eat it.
Amy: Yes, I know. I am ignoring that.
Beth: Maybe that is one of the 14 Super Foods?
Beth: Maybe you could make a smoothie out of it?
Amy: I'll take a No. 1 with a Diet Coke. Oh, and extra placenta on the burger please.

Now of course, I want to keep the placenta for practical jokes. You know, wrap it up and give it to my sister for Christmas. Or hide it with the Easter eggs in the spring. Run it up the flagpole on Fourth of July.

A multitude of festive occasions could be enhanced by the placenta.

I may have to resort to a picture of it. Also hours of fun. I can see the flip books now.

"So there's the Blob during his first bath, there's my mom holding the Blob, oh! and there's the placenta! And there's Josh feeding the Blob."

Good news all around

I had the absolute BEST doctor appointment in the history of this pregnancy yesterday.

First, we had an ultrasound and we found The Blob weighs 3 pounds 5 ounces and is doing great! He stuck his tongue out at us a few times and I found out it is indeed his little foot that sticks out of my left side all the time and that he is really cute.

Then after that, I went for my weekly OB appointment, where my doctor told me that my cervix was again measuring about 1 cm thick, so pretty much the same. So that makes a grand total of six weeks that I have been the same. I would call that stability!

Since I am doing so well and good, she gave me permission to, ARE YOU READY, go out to dinner on Friday night!!!!!! I also got the all-clear for a family holiday get-together on Sunday, but alas, it is not happening due to a scheduling conflict.

I am so excited about getting dressed up and going out in public to a restaurant with REAL! LIVE! PEOPLE! I cannot even tell you.

And then to top it all off, she told us she thinks I will "probably" go past 34 weeks since I have been stable for this long. So again, HUGE news.

Can you tell I am excited because I KEEP USE THE CAPS LOCK?

So I have been giddy since then and dreaming of my big night out. Of course I also think this gives me license to get up a little more, linger a little longer after getting up for the bathroom and nosing around the house.

The house that is being remodeled that I finally have pictures of!

Look! Pictures! Of holes!

And today we made progress -- the floors are done being fixed and the cabinets were delivered. I could not be more pleased.

I present to you...

The Kitchen


The Fireplace/Chimney Before Removal


The Hole In The Bedroom (now with temporary drywall on it)


And, The New Floors And Framing For The Double-Sided Fireplace

Construct this

The construction, it is killing me.

I have a hole in my roof (covered with plastic and several inches of snow), a floor-to-ceiling hole in my bedroom wall (the only previously-finished room in the ENTIRE house), half the floors missing in the downstairs, a hole in the floor between the bedroom and the living room (I am thinking it would make a lovely dumbwaiter while on bedrest) and the constant sound of drills whining and nails being pounded in.

Now I am not complaining, but goddamn is it annoying. We get up every morning at 7:30 when the workers arrive and I nod accommodatingly when they walk through the guest room to access the roof. It's so dusty I think I am blowing pure dust out of my nose and we need to run a humidifier 24-7 in the bedroom so I can breathe.

I would love to know if the dust is causing my nasal issues or the pregnancy, because my god, the nasal issues. Sinus pressure, the constant blowing of the nose, the never-feeling-like-I-have-any-moisture-in-the-nasal-cavity.

Not to mention the fact I am not all that big and I have trouble getting out of bed. Between the throwing back of the covers and the moving of the body pillow and the trying to get up to pee at 3 a.m., it's good times.

I try to sit up, but it's like the upper ab muscles have gone on vacation. It's so difficult to sit up that Josh has offered to help me -- even in the middle of the night.

I LOVE BEING PREGNANT.

No, really. Can I do this again? Soon?

So we see the doctor today. An ultrasound and a weekly. The contractions have been extremely few and far between this week and dare I say, things seem to be going well. I shall report back tomorrow.

Feeling hot, hot, hot

It is flipping FREEZING here in Chicago. As I write, 5 degrees. Makes me glad I am not allowed to leave the bedroom.

In my bedroom, however, there is approximately an 90-degree temperature swing. I am wearing a tank and shorts, I have a fan on and I have thrown back the comforter.

There is no happy medium in this house. You freeze downstairs, where there is ghetto plastic covering the windows, which are being replaced in January. You swelter upstairs in our bedroom, where it feels like Phoenix in July.

Could just be the pregnant lady, but HOLY HELL is it hot up here.

But, but, BUT ... I will survive the fluctuations because the work has started on the Great Remodel 2005! The kitchen cabinets are gone, the electrical is being wired, the insulation is being placed, the floors will be fixed on Monday and we are making P-R-O-G-R-E-S-S people!

Although I did have a breakdown today when I found out the carpet was backordered and would not be installed until after Christmas. You may remember the carpet saga. Mmmmmhmmmmm, good times.

Pictures to come...

Lots to see here

So much to report from the weekend...

First, we had a nice little visit to Labor and Delivery this weekend. I mean really, it just wouldn't be fun without a little drama would it?

I was lying on the couch minding my own business Saturday evening, when I started having crampy, stabbing-painish type contractions. I counted 8 in 20 minutes, so I called Josh (who had been out at a basketball game and having dinner with his friends). I told him I would call him back and let him know how many more I had in the next 20 minutes, when I counted another 7 in 15 minutes and called the on-call doc. Had some more for a grand total of 22 in an hour. Mmmmmm, fun.

All the while, lying on my side drinking 32 ounces of water, which is what they tell you to do and see if they go away. Mine, alas, did not.

So of course they have me come in. They put me on the monitor and I have 10 in an hour, so they start an IV, even though they know I was hydrated, and added Indocin to my current Procardia.

They did a swab and I tested positive for BV, a bacterial infection common in pregnant women. Moe fun! Since BV can cause PTL and weaken the bag of waters, they were glad to catch it. So they got me started on an antibiotic as well.

They normally send women home after this, but the doctor said because I have the cerclage, they wanted to keep me overnight. I wailed that my baby shower was Sunday and they asked what time and when I said 1 p.m., the doc said they would have me out in time.

So up to perinatal surveillance I went again, where I spent the night and was released at 9:30 a.m. Josh was so pleased to sleep in his favorite pullout chair/bed. No, really. Loved. Since I was being monitored the whole night, I could not share with him and he was in worse shape that I was.

After I was released, I rested for a bit at home, then showered and got ready for the shower.

It was so awesome and I loved it. My sister-in-law Marnie (Hi Marn! -- here's your shout out you always ask for) threw it at her house, so I was able to recline on a chaise sofa and eat and chat and open my gifts. It was so nice to see people I have not seen in the last three months and our friends and family were ridiculously generous and my mom went way out of control and gave us about 5,852 outfits, in addition to her other gifts. Can you say "first-time grandma?"

We also got a ton of awesome stuff that I have no idea what to do with -- what does one DO with a Diaper Genie? What about a wipes warmer? Can I use it to heat up cocoa?

I was ridiculously happy that I was able to attend after all the problems I have had. I told my mom and my mother-in-law weeks ago that it was the one thing I had to look forward to and I would be there no matter what, wearing the one super cute/expensive maternity shirt I had -- they of course rolled their eyes and said "sure, sure," thinking I would still be in the hospital!

Ha ha -- I showed them all. I gestated this child past anyone's expectations and now everyone must bow down and pay homage to the cuteness of this maternity shirt. Not to mention the reverance we must all have for the pregnancy rack.

MY GOD, put those things away. It's like Pamela Anderson has invaded and as someone never afraid to show off the ole' chest, I am flaunting it. For your inspection, I present the seven-months-pregnant me...

Nothing to see here

The lack of preparation for this child is starting to get to me.

One of the doctors told us in the hospital that if he had to guess, he thought the Blob might come between 30-34 weeks. Well, that means in TWO WEEKS we could potentially, maybe, possibly have the baby.

Two. Weeks. From. Now.

Excuse me while I throw up in my mouth.

We have no carpeting. We have no crib. We have no dresser. We have nothing. I have some baby clothes, sure, and my shower is Sunday, but I am freaking the freak out!

Josh was dragging his feet on carpeting because it will cause him physical pain to not get the best deal possible. So we had to wait for one more estimate. It finally came in today, and it is the cheapest one, so we went with that. Except now it will take two weeks to get it in the house.

We can't get the crib delivered until the carpet is in and I can't take it anymore. We are remodeling our entire house and Josh is being a trooper doing all the stuff and taking care of me and waiting on my bedrest self. But every time I get pissy about the status of the baby's room, he gets all defensive and points out how much he is taking care of. It's not that I am not appreciative, but this is getting ridiculous. I want to get up and do stuff myself and I hate lying here depending on everyone else.

My mother suggested he sleep in a drawer. Which is amusing, because HA -- if I had an empty drawer, I would fill it with stuff. But there is no emptiness in the house. No room at the inn. No soup for you.

Is anyone sick of my bitching yet? Because even I think I sound whiny today. And that's saying something.

I will now sulk on the couch, since I can't go anywhere to blow off steam.