A change of pace

June 26, 2009


This last week has brought a definite change of pace for the Beck household. Call it an intervention from God, bad luck, a blessing in disguise or an ironic sequence of mishaps. Whatever it was I'm not a fan, and not planning on getting in this situation again (that is, if I have any say over it).

Let me back up.


Two weekends ago (June 12-15), my Mom and Dad (the future Gma and Gpa Rabe) were in Des Moines for the weekend - to help with baby prep and to spend some quality time with Chris and me as we transition from a couple to a "real-live family." Of course, they also came to give Franklin and Parker (our little boys in puppy suits) a dose of love and attention. The boys tell quite the stories about never getting any attention, or treats, or back rubs.... but in reality, they're quite spoiled. That discussion will be for another time, though.


The four of us (M, D, C, R) headed to a Des Moines Barnstormers (indoor arena league football) game that Saturday night. That's when the dramas started. For purposes of getting through the many bumps, here's a recap of the events that ensued...

• Saturday between 7:00 and 10:00 p.m.: My wallet was stolen from my purse.
• Call restaurant, call Wells Fargo arena, call ice cream shop (all places we'd been earlier); no bones.
• Sulk over lost cash ($250+) and gift cards ($400+).
• Curse self for carrying all that stuff to an indoor football game (normally would've changed purses, but he day had gotten away from us with all the shopping).
• Cancel all credit cards, checking account, debit accounts; report library card, health insurance card lost/stolen. (Since mom had a similar experience two years ago, I was inspired to keep a listing of all my credit/debit/etc. account information and phone numbers for those accounts in our safe. This made the process much easier, but no less painful. That said... I recommend it to everyone.)
• File police report; all hope is reduced to "less than one-tenth of one percent" b/c that's what the officer tells me about the likely populous that will 'do the right thing.'
• Sunday: continue trying to figure out WHEN it could have happened; nil.
• AGAIN... call restaurant, call WF arena, call ice cream shop; nada.
• Monday: 9:00 a.m. Visit lost and found; Big Fat NOTHING.
• 9:30 a.m.: Proceed to bank to finish setting up new checking,, savings and debit accounts (b/c they couldn't finish on the phone on Saturday night)
• 11:30 a.m.: Proceed to Adel driver's license bureau (b/c Polk county is CLOSED ON MONDAYs. STUPID.)
• 12:55 p.m.: FINALLY get my license (after walking in, got number 49, they were serving number 39). When it turned noon, one of the two workers went on lunch break… i.e….pace slowed double; four people who were taking driving or written tests that had been there before me finished up, so got to become lodged back into the line… worker had to grade them BY HAND, allow them to review tests, take pictures and grant new licenses to those who passed - 2 of 4). The whole experience there was like a scene from a Ben Stiller movie... where EVERYthing that can go wrong does.
• 12:57 p.m. try to check in for flight online via mobile phone; no bones - error with site. Contact AA customer service mobile help and they say it'll be fine and that I'll get confirmation shortly.
• 1:25 p.m.: No confirmation; call AA general customer service; they won't check me in.
• 1:35 p.m.: Get home, co-worker drops off materials from office, throw in my baggage; SPEED to airport.
• 1:48 p.m.: Arrive at airport; attendant will not let me check in… says it's too late… says there's nothing she can do about it.
• I CRY. This was the "straw." Yes... I realize it was silly to cry... but this was the breaking point.
• 1:49 p.m.: Get booked standby on 3:45 flight that has 15 extra seats remaining.
• 2 p.m.: Do lunch with M&D; decide I have enough time to drive myself to airport so that I won't have to burden Chris with picking me up on Wednesday when I return.
• 2:45: Get home, transfer carry-on to my car. Go to start car. CAR WON'T START!?!?!?!?!?!?!?
• 2:48: Get BACK into M&D's trusty Highlander and head BACK to DSM airport.
• 3:25: Get through security without any issue; approach gate C6 - no listing for Chicago flight. Visit attendee's stand to inquire about flight. Conversation:
  R: I'm wondering about the 3:45 flight to Chicago
  A: Yeah?
  R: My ticket says it's supposed to board at C6, but-
  A: IT is…. The plane's right there (points out window)
  R: OK… but it's not listed on any of the display boards (only a 4 p.m. flight to STL was listed on the C6 display and all other flights on other gates were going to Dallas)
  A: Well, it's a brand new flight as of yesterday, so it's probably not updated yet.
• I presume that was my fault for asking… another flyer commented that apparently we're not allowed to NOT know this kind of stuff. Lovely.
• I wasn't going to push it and ask another question (…. Am I going to be able to fly standby…) because I thought she'd tell me I have to wait anyway. I wait until all other passengers board (that's how standby works) and visit the same lovely attendant who is now accepting ticket for the flight. She sends me back to ticket counter where two other ladies now stand. I am given my boarding pass without issue just as one agent is telling the other, "I'm serious… it's a full moon … there's got to be with the way people are acting"
  I could NOT agree more.
• Get to Chicago 4:40 local time; get checked luggage; wait, and wait, and Wait and Wait and WAIT for shuttle. Missed the first one the moment I was heading out the door; the second one FLIES past me. Jerk. Talk to Chris; says he was trying to get a special something sent to my hotel - some chocolate, a rose, a massage…. Etc… but couldn't locate the hotel information. His thoughtfulness makes me cry, again.
• Phone dies… when considering calling the hotel again.
• THIRD shuttle's a charm - 30 minutes after the LAST shuttle whizzed by (the hotel said they come by every 15 minutes. Right.)
• Get to hotel and settled into my room at 6:20 p.m….
• Dinner and prep for meeting with stand-in (as the scheduled meeting facilitator was suddenly unable to attend due to death in the family).
• 8:30 p.m.: return to room to focus on positives in life and finish work.
• 12:30 a.m. Turn in for the evening... Tuesday's a big day.

The rest of my time in Chicago (Mon-Weds) brought me just over eight hours of sleep (i.e. not nearly enough). After a good close to the meeting, it was time to shift to the other work I'd not been focusing on, since I had been tied up. Thursday I was back in the office for a "normal" work day. Friday, our Des Moines crew "punched in" at 5 a.m. to get an industry "special report" out to our clients. We then headed to Kansas City for a team meeting around 6:30 a.m. Arriving at 9:30, we finalized and sent out the report. Our team meeting started around 10 a.m. and we were having a great time learning about all the exciting initiatives we were all working on, the new team members we'd gained and the plan of attack as we moved into the second half of the year.

At 3 p.m., we took a break. I'd been feeling wonderful, albeit tired, but when I stood up, I knew something was wrong. Something had definitely changed. I'll spare the details, but in short, I quickly realized something wasn't normal. After calling my doctor, I was asked, "Can you be to the downtown location (Des Moines) in 15 minutes?" KC is three hours from DSM. I was instructed to go to a local hospital immediately. Two of my co-workers became aware of the situation and quickly helped me pick up the pieces, gather my things and quickly transported me to the nearest hospital which was less than 10 minutes away.

Once at the hospital, the blur set in. Some highlights:

• Very nice nurses
• Exam reveals that I'm 1.5 cm dialated and 60% effaced
• Baby heart monitors and my persistently moving belly reveal baby is healthy, active and stable
• Monitors on me reveal that I'm contracting every 5-7 minutes.

Because of the stats, and because I was only at 32 weeks and 6 days, the medical team determined that I was in pre-term labor. They proceeded to give me magnesium sulfate - a muscle relaxant used to help stop contractions which also makes you feel like you have the flu. As well, because there was a risk that the baby could still be delivered, they started steroid treatments (total of two shots, 24 hours apart). These help the baby's lungs, intestines and brain develop to their fullest extent, should it decide "it's time."

Chris arrived at the hospital a couple hours later - just before the medical team decided there was enough of a threat that the baby would be making its grand entrance. They felt it was in the best interest of everyone to transfer me to another hospital in downtown KC that has a level 3 Neonatal Intensive Care Unit. An ambulance ride later, I was stationed in a birthing room, still breathing through contractions and still extremly painfully aware of the fact that this was not supposed to happen this way.

Over night, the contractions slowed, lessened in intensity and finally stopped altogether. I was held all of Saturday for observation, another steroid injection and many pricks and prods including 4 IV entrances, antibiotics - "just in case", a RhoGAM shot and many exams. Saturday afternoon, after I had been stable for several hours, a neonatologist came in to tell us all about "what will happen when the baby's born." Excuse me?? She described the likely condition of the babe, the challenges it would face being premature, the milestones it would have to meet.... I had to stop her about five minutes into her schpiel. Conversation went omething like:

• "Did something with my status change that's making you believe that I'm going to deliver this baby?"
• "No. But my job is not to know what is going on with you - it's to take care of the baby you could be delivering here. You need to know what condition this baby could be in, should it decide to come out."
• "Ok." (I then proceeded to focus only on the sound of the baby's heart monitor, as I couldn't face the prospect of having a baby in a NICU three hours from home.

The best part was Sunday morning. Among the lack of answers from doctors and nurses about when I was likely to be released, we finally had some resolve. Because I'd been stable, and because baby was happy and healthy, I was going to be released. That afternoon, that's exactly what happened. Chris and I followed the doctor's instructions to a tee (do not pass go... do not collect $300), and speedily went straight home.

For the last week, I've been on bedrest. This is one of the most difficult things I've done in a LONG time. I don't do the whole "couch potato" thing very well. When at home, I'm usually on the go, especially lately with baby prep.

I've been cleared to get back to my "normal" schedule next week. But what is most important is that I need to learn to slow down, pace myself, know that it's ok to not accomplish EVERYthing on my list of to-dos all in one day... I'll be back to work next week, but focusing on mini-goals, getting in and out of the office at "normal" times and knowing that tomorrow will bring a fresh slate. This will be great practice for when BB does arrive.

Where's the beef? Er... baby?

6/2/09

"You're HOW far along?" "You should be MUCH bigger - maybe waddling by now!"

I've been hearing a lot of this lately. The thing is, I'm a tall lady... and I have a long torso. I've a lot of room for the little bean to stretch out, shift and grow. And maybe this baby's going to be small. Just because Chris and I are not tiny people doesn't mean that's not possible to have a 6-pounder, right? The biggest worry I have is that BB's head will be ginormous. I can hear the remnants of a Chris Farley song coming now... "Big head on a little bod..."

Here's the latest belly shot:

Just 2 months and 6 days left now until we meet our little Baby Beck!

A Classic Debate

It's week 23 now, and we've been told by all the baby expert Web sites that it's time to start considering names for our growing bean.


Since we opted to not find out whether we're having a "Johnny" or a "Jane" (see 3/29 post) we need to prepare two options (or sets of options at this point) for Baby Beck's grand entrance in August.


Chris maintains that if it's a She-Ra, I can pick any name I fancy. But if it's a He-Man, he's got a specific request - he wants the little man to have his initials. I'm not exactly sure why this matters... but hey, that's a reasonable request! It seems a nice and subtle way for daddy and baby to bond through a really simplistic vehicle. Chris's initials are C.A.B. Not only have we explored what we feel is every potential option for names that begin with "C" - we used to have a short list of "C" names that worked for us both. But since then, Chris has entered into the realm of baby name inventing... and feels he's come up with the perfect name. In fact, it's one he's had on his mind for a really long time - way before we were even seriously talking about becoming parents of Baby Beck. He loves the name so much that I am convinced, if we knew it were going to be a boy, he'd already have the rattle engraved and the name on the wall. This has been a discussion in the Beck household for some time. In fact, some of you may have even heard us talk about it...

So, what's the name...? (DRUMROLL PLEASE) "Classic." (GASP!?!)

"Eh?" you ask....

That's not a typo. Not kidding. No need to adjust your screen. He's not saying that the "C" name is a classic... "Classic" is the name. And he's COMPLETELY serious. I would not joke about this.

He thinks my push-back on the name is because I'm too afraid what others think. That I'm buckling under peer pressure. The reality is that I don't think it's a name at all. It's an adjective... and as a stretch, a noun. There's a reason names, even those that qualify as nouns, like "Apple" never become popular. Because they're not names at all. And they're outrageous. It's hard enough to find current names that work at all stages of the baby's life... let alone trying to invent one that fits that bill.

I have to give him credit for wanting to give our first born a meaningful and unique name. I, too, want this. That said, there's a line I'm not comfortable crossing. Specifically, one that:

• Sets our little bean up for potential failure: Classic means "the original." What if BB doesn't become an inventor? In fact... what if he ends up doing something extremely ordinary? No, not likely, but it could happen.
• Positions our BB for a lifetime of "same name" situations: In a grocery store - "Classic Potato Lays" and "Coca-Cola Classic," at community festivals "Classic Car Show," in the realm of the fine arts "Classic music concert"... the list goes on.
• Makes it really difficult to name future babes: Imagine being baby number two... what would we name it? "Runner up," "secondary," "the sequel"... I can't imagine.

Anyway, something pivotal happened. We (Chris) finally agreed that "Classic" isn't going to be the name for this babe, should it be a boy. Phew!! It was really starting to make me nervous (to the point that I'd enlisted some of his co-workers to intercept the birth certificate should it be a little man). He was SO set on the name, and I'm bummed that I can't agree to it. But, I think after getting several reactions that weren't exactly rooting on his choice, it started to weigh on him.

So, while we can't report what the name will be, we are in agreement (for now) about what it won't be. Here's a list of for-sure nots:

• Classic
• Clint
• Chuck
• Curtis
• Clancy
• Conrad
• Carter
• Colby
• Cordell
• Chris
• Chance
• Chase
• Chip
• Casper
• Cabe
• Cade
• Cadence
• Corbin

We have a short-ish list of other "C" names we're still considering. And you'll all know soon enough, where we land on the subject.

Now onto the little lady names...

Baby Beware

So "baby daddy" and I had our first baby preparation class last night (5/26). The class was all about basic baby care. You know - changing loaded diapers, bathing the slippery little bundle, calming the squirmy and distressed babe, etc.

We were one of about 15 couples - and the only one armed with a camera. Hey... it's important we take good "notes." It will enable us to reference them when times are tough, when we're too tired to blink and when we question our ability to really be good parents to the little bean.

The class was three hours - with time in the middle to "get our hands dirty" with the dramas only a plastic doll can offer. One station was to practice diapering. It was here that we both promptly and efficiently took our babies and diapers and assembled them into happy duos. We even took care to not rub the top of the diapers against the babies' healing umbilical cord "stumps." Since we had some extra time at this station, Chris felt it necessary to not waste any time by letting the little plastic bodies just lie there on the table. No, no. This was the perfect opportunity to set up a pseudo-fight scene. Like I said... good thing we had the camera to capture the important parts... :)

This photo came at the end of the fight, where baby A was standing over (and, naturally, rubbing defeat in the face of) baby B, celebrating his victory.

Next up: the five "s" station - that is, the ways to calm baby through the letter "s" (just like Sesame Street, no?) - swaddle, side, ssshhhhh, swing, suck.

At this station, it was our important duty to master the swaddling technique then continue with the rest of the four s's to ensure the plastic babies were as calm as possible before they were stowed away back in their plastic crates for the next class of soon-to-bes.

I felt my swaddling abilities were excellent (or will get there, in time), but I didn't display my pride in wrap-man-ship quite as proudly as Chris. Though, I will say, my technique in cradling the baby in a swinging motion was much better than his...

Certainly we both have much to learn (really, we already thoroughly understand that plastic babies' heads are not nearly as gripable as those of our plastic victims from last night) - and those lessons will come with practice, laughs, hope, luck, probably some frustration - but mostly, with love. And we can't wait!

Old Wives Tales

If you're not familiar with at least one "old wives tale" (OWT) regarding pregnancy, in my experience, you're an anomaly. Nearly everyone who has let their belief about the sex of Baby Beck (BB) be known, references one of these best guess statements as rationale for the predicted outcome of the little bean.

It is with this (what I'll call) "intelligence" from each of the folks who have "called" the sex of the baby (maybe including you...) that I thought I'd do a bit of informing... and at the end of the day, you can still make your guess based on what's physically going on with BB.

OWT: If you prefer sleeping on your left side, it's a boy. Right side? It's a girl.

• I used to LOVE sleeping on my left side, but could sleep in nearly any position comfortably. Now, on my back is most comfortable (but that's not a healthy choice for the baby at this point, because of the pressure it puts on the inferior vena cava - a large vein that transports blood back to the heart from the feet and legs)... and I have been having difficulty with sleeping on my left side.

OWT: If you gain weight in the face, a girl's in your future.

• You be the judge.

OWT: Extreme nausea = girl.

• I was nauseated.... but not extremely.

OWT: Hands dry? Buy blue. Soft? Buy pink.

• No change in softness of hands.

OWT: If skin breaks out, it's a little lady

• I've definitely fallen victim to the zit monster.

OWT: If you feel graceful during pregnancy, it's a Jane. Clumsy, it's a John.

• While I'm not pulling out my 4"+ heels anymore, I'm still in heels nearly every day. (Hey... give me a break... I can't give up everything during pregnancy!)

OWT: Craving salt? He-Man. Want the sweets? She-Ra.

• For me, it has really depended on the day. I haven't had cravings per se. I crave milk, cottage cheese, occasionally a crunchy dill pickle and occasionally sweet red watermelon. Sorry... no real help here.

OWT: Carrying the baby low = macho man. Carrying high = little lady.

• Swing LOW, sweet chariot.

Carrying out front indicates a Mickey; carrying around the middle indicates a Minnie.

• So far, it's mostly in the front, though my waist is completely gone, so it seems to be widening its stance as we enter week 30. In fact, as BB grows, I'm feeling pushes/kicks/flips on opposite sides of the bump at the same time. Seeing and feeling the movement is a really delightful thing. It makes me feel the urge to talk to my stomach in a silly voice at a moment's notice.

OWT: If you dream about having a girl, you'll end up with a boy... and vice versa.

• My only dream about actually giving birth thus far was to a boy (but he was at least the size of a 1-year-old with a full head of hair... and he could talk).

And finally... for those motivated by chance environmental indicators...

OWT: If you dangle a ring on a chain over the bump and it swings back and forth, it's an F; if it moves in a circular motion, it's an M.

• We did this and it started by slightly going back and forth... then, it seemed to swirl with the motion of the earth. So, it's a toss up. I think we need someone else (not the daddy or mommy) to dangle the ring. That way, it's at least partially unbiased.
  

Taking Flight

I had a busy day today... a 7:20 a.m. flight out of Des Moines into St. Louis, a presentation and a training session, then it was back to the airport for a flight back to Des Moines that landed just after 9 p.m. This was the little beaner's first official flight as a mobile little one. Thinking back, the first time I felt Baby Beck move was on March 6 - about a month and a half ago. I did fly during this trip, but I didn't feel any fluttering while in the friendly blue skies. Oh what a difference a month and 12 days makes!!

Either this little bean LOVES or HATES air travel. Both on the way there and on the way back, for nearly the entirety of each flight, the babe was bonkers! Grandma Beck thought this may be the result of the plane's constant vibration. Certainly that is viable. In a plane, you don't have a way to ground yourself. So think of the poor little bean, stuck in a seemingly eternal wave pool - imagine the impact the constant hum of the plane probably has on fluids in the body! It was probably a bit loud as well - or at a minimum, it sounded different than anything baby's used to.

I'm not sure what other environments I'll be in that may cause the bump to keep "bumping" - but when I encounter them, I'll let you know!

Conversations: The Simple Things in Life

A while back, I was sitting at our kitchen table writing a proposal for work. In front of our table is a double window that provides a view of our humble College Avenue. In the middle of a thought, something caught my eye - a little woman strolling along with a walker, moving quite briskly. It made me grin because she was just trucking right along.

Then, focusing back on my computer screen, I was again distracted by something moving on the street. This time, it was a little man... with a matching walker in bright blue... who was doing his best to keep up with the mover and shaker who was apparently his walking partner.

This made me not just grin, but giggle. Out loud. I couldn't miss this Kodak moment! I quickly retreived the camera-only to come back to the window and find that the speedy lady had stopped and was sitting in her walker (apparently they are dual-functional!) looking fondly upon her slower walking partner. By the time I had the right vantage point, this is what I ended up with:

It was this sweet simplicity that reminded me how precious a conversation can be. Each day I feel like I have a new conversation with "Little Beck":

• I can see you're having a bout of the hiccups baby; should I ask daddy to come say "boo!" to the bump that is your home?
• You're not moving nearly as much as normal... is everything ok?
• OOH! I like this fabric design... will you like it as curtains in the nursery?
• That heartburn is really catching up with me... is it because you're growing hair already, little bean? (Wives' tale: babies born with hair caused their "grower" more heartburn than those born bald.)

In addition to these conversations that go mostly un-vocalized, the little bean also already receives plenty of verbal attention from "mom," "dad" and others:

• Chris's ever-available words of recommendation about the activities in which the babe will participate (we will love soccer, right baby?)
• My singing: depending on the day/mood/song I just heard, I may be singing anything from "Baby Mine" (by Bette Midler from Beaches) to "So What" (by rocker Pink), or "Candyman" (by Christina Aguilera as a retro gal) to "Summertime" (the famous Gershwin tune from Porgy and Bess - though my version's more modern)
• If the baby could hear everything I hear (I read that the baby hears most of what I hear... though it's a bit muted), it would hear all sorts of inquiries about itself. Wanting to know if it's a he or a she, when it will officially introduce itself, if it has a name yet, if it's nursery is shaping up, etc.

Of course, these conversations with and about Baby Beck will continue on forever - and nothing makes me happier :)

Happyness

Did you see the Will Smith tear-jerker The Pursuit of Happyness? If you did, you'll no doubt remember wiping tears from your eyes during scenes of struggle and triumph throughout the film. It is movies like this that make me wonder how Chris an I will be as a parents.

It is my hope that even if we do make mistakes along the way, we can recognize them and correct them on the spot, as was done in this scene.



What was one of the important realizations you had as a parent?

Adventures in garage saling

I want to start this post by saying that I understand garage sales aren't for everyone.

I get it. Not everyone has the desire to pillage through complete strangers' expired goods, nor the wilingness to put a little elbow grease into a no-longer-loved piece of furniture, nor the stamina to roam streets, dodge cars and race other avid sale-seekers to the treasures awaiting them.

I, however, enjoy the hunt. This past weekend, I headed north to God's Country (a.k.a. Minnesota) to spend some quality time with the family for Mother's day and for a day of garage saling.

Thinking back to my experiences as a garage-saler-extraordinaire-in-training, under the watchful eye and caring wing of the "best of the best" (mom), I remember WONDERFUL times. Let's put this in perspective. My parents grew up with parents who were recession-era children. Their learnings became mom and dad's (mom literally didn't have indoor plumbing until she was 13), and eventually mine. When you can conserve, reuse or find a bargain, by all means... do it, silly!

Now, just like with everything, there are rules to garage sales. Here are a few:

1. Do not judge a garage's holdings by its appearance from the street. (The book and cover analogy has proven true on several occassions. Some of the most humble looking sales have turned into the biggest "treasure troves.")
2. Do not scoff at something because it's a bit used. If you can clean it up (i.e. no set-in stains), if it is still functional (batteries are meant to be replaced) and if it makes you smile thinking about how you'll use it... it's probably worth the modest fee on the price tag.
3. The best finds are found early - so no sleeping in, slackers. Suck it up, grab some coffee and get ready to rock.
4. Patience is of the utmost importance. Just because you may have a list of "wants" doesn't mean they will be met. This isn't like apple shopping at your favorite orchard. This is all about the hunt. It may take multiple sales - perhaps even a few days to cross everything off your list.

One of the garage sales I remember fondly was when I was about five years old. Mom and I left the house early (we're rule followers, you see) and were on the hunt. I don't recall having a "wish list" - but I remember knowing the minute I laid eyes on it, that I needed to own that musical jewelry box. It was off-white, it had a bear in a tu-tu that spun to the music when I turned the crank on the bottom and three drawers that lined the left side. The best part was what was in those drawers. The epitome of "treasures" - various beautiful buttons, some colorful pencil erasers, a couple Canadian coins, a Barbie hair brush and some other trinkets. I LOVED it. I had the perfect use for each of the baubles. It was an absolute steal at $0.75 of my hard earned cash (er... coins). I kept that musical jewelry box for years and it held a prime piece of real estate on the shelf above my bed where I could proudly display it for all to see.

When it comes to teaching values to Baby Beck, you can bet that the little bean won't scoff at or turn a blind eye to the bevy of wonders that lie in garages across the land.

Reminiscing: Pictionary

Remember Pictionary? I certainly do. Though I didn't know it would ever help inform my immediate family of Chris and my impending little bundle, I did enjoy playing it as a child. There was even a show built on Pictionary's premise: Win, Lose or Draw. Each game started with two teams - ladies vs. gents. The teams would take turns at the drawing board where one player drew and the remaining two players on that same team made best guesses about that which was being Picasso'd with thick and colorful markers on the large flip chart.

So, that's the way my family shaped up our game. Estrogen vs. testosterone (Dad, Paul and Chris vs. Mom, Kari, Sarah and me). The plan was that at some point, Chris woud make the big reveal... whenever the time was right. Well, one and a half games later... we were still waiting for that perfect moment. See, with Pictionary, they have these "all-plays" that allow both teams to draw at the same time. Turns out, each time Chris drew, it ended up being an all-play, so instead of having the undivided attention of everyone at the table, he was only going to have the men's. Hence... we were into our second game (of course, us ladies were POUNDING the competition). Chris's turn came up and it was not an all-play. SCORE!

His hands started to get jittery. He reached carefully to turn on the camera. He read the word on the card several times (he still maintains he has no idea what it said) and acted perplexed at the prospect of having to sketch it.

The sand-filled "minute glass" was flipped and he was off. Though, it was a bit unclear what he was trying to do in the beginning, it became transparent in time. Here's what he drew...

Get it?

Don't feel bad... Neither did the fam; that is, not without a bit of explanation. Chris started to explain: The first picture is a man throwing a "rock"; number two is eyes that are looking, i.e. "see" (they got that one) and the third one is unmistakably an expectant woman (and that one). They just didn't understand how the three drawings worked together. He said it again "rock-see-baby bump"; then "pregnant" + "rock-see." By this time, I was beaming and tears were coming down my face because I was sure they were going to understand in a matter of moments. Then Sarah said "Roxi's pregnant?!"

From there, the game ended in a halt. Mom shrieked and grabbed me for a tight embrace; excited faces lit up all around the table; bodies rose to begin embracing; mom let me go and touched the lack of a bump on my abdomen. :)

Thanks for sharing in the memory!

The Greed Gun

A couple weeks ago, my sister (the future, auntie Kari) was in town to spend some time hanging out and catching up. Since it was mid-week, we decided not to paint the town and get all crazy... otherwise, watch out... we can be quite the duo. Riiight...

Instead, we decided to do more conservative and constructive things like taking a 5-mile walk, chatting about her most recent vacation (including cruise dining, winning a Sudoku competition and averting the clenched jaws of alligators - seriously!) and setting up baby registries at Toys R Us and Target. I know... you wish you could've been there, right??

So then it began...our date with the "greed gun." What's that, you ask? A simple device used to plan the future with every hope, aspiration and dream in mind. You guessed it - the product scanner that introduces your family and friends (and anyone else who wants to search for you) to all those "wish list" items you have for the future mini-me. For those of you who've not entered the future-parent-to-be-domain, perhaps you know the greed gun from a trips to the store prior to your marriage? And if that doesn't spark it for you, certainly you've seen a rogue dad weaving stealthily around department store displays doing his best impersonation of Tom Cruise in Mission Impossible. He grips the registry scanner, peers down an isle of fragile goods, begins his raptor-like pursuit, turns a corner and points the scanner at an unsuspecting crystal vase his bride-to-be is holding oh-so-gingerly. Capisce?



Of course the intent with registries isn't really greed, but rather a simple opportunity to inform regarding those planning on gift-giving of what's really needed, necessary or just too darn cute to leave un-scanned.

Our progress wasn't exactly progress at all. I "mis-fired" a few times at Toys R Us and even though the scanner was supposedly equipped to delete items, I'm not convinced that actually happened. We did learn a lot though. Mostly, that there's SO MUCH to learn :) The sheer amount of options for bottles, strollers, bouncers, diapers and more, made me wonder if I'd ever get started. But with the help of some of you, I've now received excellent advice on what worked best in your opinion (or the opinion of your little ones) for products, brands, needs and wastes of time.

Now if I can just figure out the registry scanner...

Hiccups

There are a handful of folks who've asked me whether the baby's had hiccups yet. "I don't know, I haven't asked the little charmer," is typically my first thought. Really though, the little bean has been on the move quite frequently, but there hasn't been a time when I'd say I recognize any of the movement being similar to that which hiccups cause. That is, until today at 4:22 p.m.

There was a little nudge (not out of the ordinary), then another in the exact spot (again, not atypical), then another - all about two seconds apart. It went on, repeating at least 14 times (yes, I counted).

To think of the bean (who is supposedly about a foot in length - the size of an ear of corn, approximately - and weighs just over a pound) flailing around with uncontrollable abdominal spasms kind of makes me giggle. It was short-lived and as long as it's a part of the developmental process, I'm good with it.

In honor of hiccuping babies everywhere, inside and outside of the "pod," here's a little something for you to giggle at as well:

A Six-Pack Habit

So, I don't even like beer. In fact, I really can't stand it. I don't like the taste, the color's unappealing to me and my stomach's not particularly a fan either. So, overhearing a comment about "looks like she's got a six-pack a day drinking habit" didn't exactly make me feel fabulous... but I'm over it. It's part of this whole miraculous, incredible, creation-of-life thing. :)


With that comment, I suppose I owe you some belly shots (no, not those which some have enjoyed at many a drinking establishment) - here are some progressives since the last time I posted bump pictures (3/4/09). Enjoy - but keep the beer belly jokes to yourselves! Note - they move pretty quick!

Baby Snuggie, For Real.

Who knew that for the mere investment of $80, you could be the proud owner of your very own baby Snuggie. I'm not talking about the uber-popular adult version that served the sole reason for a recent Des Moines Pub Crawl. No, I'm talking about a new and improved version that allows for baby bonding - a shared version called the Peekaru. A revolutionary design adjustment that improves your full body blanket experience by allowing the baby to see the world from your point of view (and no dragging the excessively long blanket across the floor - if you have one, you understand).

Even better, there's no gender qualification for carrying babies this time - so dad's - you're not off the hook anymore!

Log on to order yours now*! http://www.togetherbe.com/productDescriptionPeekaruOriginal.aspx

*No, I am not a spokesperson for the Peekaru; yes, I am awestruck at the ingenuity of "some people's children" :)

Calling all Mamas (and Papas!)

So, I am in need of some "been there, done that" advice. Several of you have, in your own tenures as "mama" or "papa" (or any other name you'll answer to when called out by a wee one), provided a great deal of wonderful advice on the best of the best products, services, brands, etc. you've found. Unfortunately, most of that advice came prior to being an expectant lady. SO... in building our "baby wants and needs" lists, I'd love your assistance in identifying your favorites in the following categories:

• Stroller (Best brand? Four wheels or three? Do you need all the storage capacity? Which style is the easiest to handle with one hand?)


• Bouncy Chair (Best brand? When do babies start using it?)


• Swing (Best brand? What else do I need to know here?)


• Vibrating Chair (Best brand? Is it necessary to have more than a couple speed settings?)


• Bottles (Best brand? Glass or plastic? Disposable inserts?)


• Diapers (Best brand? Does the brand differ by age of child? Disposable or cloth?)


• What else?

As well - tell me if I'm crazy to be thinking of some of these.... perhaps it's not necessary to have some of these things at all...and maybe I need three swings. Again, this is a first time gig, so I need some slack for asking less-than-intelligent questions.

Dogs and Kids - WARNING

My Sister-in-law, Sarah, sent me this very serious warning about those of us looking to welcome newborns into the world who have dogs. However, I think it applies to children of all ages. It warns of the dangers of leaving children unattended in the presence of dogs. This is an example of why that is so important:


Wait for it....

Happy April Fools' Day ;)

Not QUITE Alien, But Close

I saw the little bugger move today! Well, I saw my growing tummy move. "Little Beck" (this is how my mom is referring to the bean) was having quite an active day, which is pretty normal now. As I was working, my arm was feeling pulses as it was touching my bump. After about a dozen little "knocks," I decided to take a peek and see if it looked as dramatic as it felt.

Just a few short seconds later, there it was. The lower left part of my tummy quickly expanded then detracted in a flash. It was like there was a chopstick pushing from the other side. I don't recall swallowing any chopsticks... but perhaps the celery I ate last night served as a stand-in.

I'm sure that as my "pod that encases the pea" continues to pulse, expand and stir, all this may become less fascinating... but for now, it's stellar.

Baby Beck's debut!

Even though this isn't the official debut of Baby Beck (you'll have to wait another 20 weeks for that), it does mark a special time in the development of the little bean. It is with this that we wanted to share the progress and evolution of the pregnancy thus far.

We'll start with the first ultrasound - a single snapshot at about 8 weeks (December 31, 2008). With this image, you'll surely understand why we thought we may be having something other than a homosapien! (Turtle, dog, dinosaur?)

Though, we were looking at the shot backwards. The head is actually on the left (at that early stage of development, the head is oversized in comparison to the rest of the "body." At that point, it had just started to develop webbed fingers and toes on the ends of the hands and feet, the eyelids nearly covered the eyes, breathing tubes were extending from the throat to the developing lungs and its "tail" was just about gone. (Yes, if you didn't know it, they have tails early on!) What appears to be a puffy tail in this picture is a portion of the umbilical cord.

It's amazing what just four weeks can mean for a developing little being. That brings us to our 12-week ultrasound (January 28, 2009). You'll see that the turtle has exited and a new swan has emerged! We came away with a couple nice profile shots - one of the little noggin (the black spot is the brain - YAY! We'll need one of those! - the white areas are the nose bone, the soft palate and the chin bone):

...and one that includes the torso and leg mid-kick:

You can try to make guesses or wagers on the sex, but at 12-weeks, it's kind of a lost cause. As we were told, they can't tell that early via ultrasound. Now, if we would have had a "4-D ultrasound," it may have been a different story.

That brings us to this last Friday (March 27, 2009) - our 20-week peek at the rapidly changing bean. (This was the appointment at which we had the opportunity to find out the sex of Baby Beck... but as I mentioned earlier, we opted out of that chance.) We think we neded up with some pretty good shots, but we'll let you be the judge!

The first is something that may symbolize "making an entrance" - the foot:

Next comes a look at the profile with head and torso. The little "bubbles" at the end of the leg are the side of the foot. In this one, you can see that the shape of the head has changed just a bit - it's rounded out a bit from the 12-week shot.

This one is a close-up of the head - but what's funny is it looks like the baby is mimicking Mike Myers' pose as Dr. Evil as he said "one million dollars." See the resemblance?

That brings us to the final shot we received - a look at the face of the baby. Now don't get too excited... it may more closely resembles a skeleton than the innocent eyes, pinchable cheeks and pursed lips typical of a baby's mug. The yellow arrow points to the baby's fingertips resting on its forehead (not sure why that would be comfortable, but who am I to judge?!). The blue arrows indicate the eyes, the purple is the chin and perhaps you can fill in the other spaces.

It's not likely we'll have any other "snapshots" of the bump until August, but if we do, I'll be sure to share them!

Smile!

Our 20-week ultrasound is tomorrow, so we're pretty psyched to see the little one. At our 12-week ultrasound, the little bean was very active... that is, after it woke up.

It started out tucked under my left hip. The ultrasound technician had me cough and walk around to get it to reposition. When I returned, it was completely under my right hip. I didn't realize I had room for a "free-range" baby, but obviously that was the case. After a couple more coughs and some shimming, the critter was on the move.

It kicked, it punched, it did "the worm" while on it's back.

A side... You know what I mean when I say "the worm"... right? Certainly you've been at weddings where your crazy cousin or rowdy neighbor or some friend of the bride turns their body into a wave-making-machine. If not, check out this video and prepare to be enlightened. Nope... I don't know "Uncle Pete," just found him roaming the Web.)



Back to 12 weeks.... the little break-dancer also felt the need to show off and did a sommersault! No joke! We saw the back of the head, then the back, and then the little feet. A-ma-zing. But how in the world did I NOT feel it? I guess since it was just 2 inches long and just a few ounces, I shouldn't be surprised. Still... it was simply surreal to think the little bugger was doing all that and had it not been on the moniter, I would have completely missed out.

Watch for comparison pictures after tomorrow!

Top banana

Chris and I just finished reading the 20-week update on baby's status (in an average world, of course). It is at this point that the baby stops being measured from head to rump (b/c until now, the legs were all scrunched up near the abdomen) and starts being measured from head to toe.

We were surprised to learn that the little (maybe I can't say "little" anymore...) being-to-be is about 10 inches long and about 10.5 ounces. In Baby Center land (http://tinyurl.com/7pgwae), this marks the first week our babe isn't compared to a round-ish fruit or veggie (each week of pregnancy, they provide the size of the baby to that of produce); now, it's comparable to the size of a normal banana. Makes me giggle.