Quite possibly - a boy!

We had an appointment last week, at 18w5d, and the doctor decided to do the first round of the anomaly/anatomy scan. It's pretty nice that he does it at least twice, around 20 weeks - he says it's more reliable that way, since it gives him a chance to compare the growth, amongst other things. Everything measured perfectly, and no abnormalities were noticed. The little one seems to have legs a few days younger, and arms a few days older which, if you know what Derek and I look like, makes some perfect sense.

And then, we got to see the crotch. I am fairly sure all the right parts were dangling between the wide-spread legs, but the doctor decided to stick two questions marks in the picture he printed for us. He said he'd go with only 75% boy. Mmk.

Either way, here's the picture we got, and I have to admit I can barely tell what any of the body parts in it are. It was all a lot clearer on the actual screen, seriously! (I apologize for the quality, it's a photo of the printout. The scanner is upstairs and I am lazy, okay?)

I've been feeling mostly fine. The main (or kind of only) thing bugging me is lack of sleep. I fall asleep pretty much immediately, but the bathroom things tend to mess me up, as I'm not at all used to getting up in the middle of the night. I sleep with a huge body pillow, because I can't figure out how to sleep without one, so that wakes me up, too - it's hard to turn around without reorganizing the whole environment, and I often overcook hugging the fluffy thing, too. For whatever unknown reason, Kittica begins her meowy ritual between 5 and 5:30, so that's usually another reason for me to get up, get her, and bring her back to bed. She eventually then falls back to sleep, too. And so do I, but not for long. (Yay, work.)

My yoga class is on break right now and the new session starts in about a month. Lame, because I need to find a different activity to commit to. It's pretty nasty outside, so walking is often a big fat no, and I still haven't found anyone willing to come along, either. I might go back to water aerobics at the Y (the doctor said it was perfectly okay and safe in my case), but I need to figure out first what to wear. I've tried a few maternity swimsuits, but I have to admit I don't really understand them. The low-cut bikini bottoms tend to roll down and fall off, while the top either doesn't hold those overinflated parts, or the whole thing rolls up like a crêpe would. I was bigger back in the day than I am now, even with the bump, so my old ones are actually pretty decent in size. It's again that one particular part of the body (or in fact two of them) that just refuses to cooperate. We'll see what happens. If everything fails, I'll just wear some sort of a blanket or an astronaut suit, or whatever, really. 

Here's an update on what I look like, just in case someone hasn't been to my Facebook page, or my forum, or everywhere else where I've been constantly spamming my own (or our kid's/cat's/house's...) photos:

4w2d, 9w6d, 13w4d, 18w2d

I don't know why the bump looks so small, compared to the one from five weeks back. It's most definitely bigger in reality. My last official weigh-in, at the appointment last week, said: 2200 grams (4 lbs 13.6 oz) more than the starting point. I guess that's okay for 18w5d, even though I seem to have gained another 200-300 grams since. I have to admit I hate watching the numbers go up on the scale, even though I know it was bound to happen and that, well, it simply has to. I've not been counting calories for a while, but I am well aware of what I eat, since I know the value of just about any thing I consume. The daily intake is definitely higher than what it used to be and I'm not anywhere near the excercise regime I was on prior to the bump days, but I am not a couch potato either. So that's good, too. Weight's been good, blood pressure's been good, no glucose has been found in the urine, so for now, we're doing fine. I guess they'll be scheduling my OGTT in a handful of weeks, so we'll see how we're doing on that front. (Ick, I say. I've had that thing before and I find it to be one of the most disgusting things I've ever had in my life.) 

I do have a confession to make, though. I drove to McDonalds tonight and bought myself a Happy Meal. Yup. I ate my little burger and I got a little funky toy. I chose the crappy artificially sweetened lemonade, as I didn't want anything with bubbles and I still don't know if the US fast food chains even carry orange juice, or something similar to that. I laughed my ass off when I saw what else was in my package - a sampler of fries (seriously, that was a joke) and a few slices of apple. I don't actually know if it'd mean anything to you if I said the apple package was worth 15 calories. They call that a healthy meal, just to let you know. I'm not sure if this was my first craving ever. Probably wasn't, because I didn't really feel like I had to have the damn thing. I just had no clue what else to eat for dinner, or something.

On Sunday, I prepared the first dish from my new Somali cookbook. I chose to go with Mallaay Toonno, which happened to be a tuna steak, cooked with tomatoes, garlic and onions, fresh parsley and served with rice. We don't really eat white rice, so I chose Chinese black, also known as forbidden. The meal was awesome. And healthy. So I made sure to undo the benefits by munching on my McDrek. (lol)

We'll be eating this again, just with more veggies.

We started remodeling the upstairs the other day, too. The carpet for the hallway, spare bedroom and staircase has been picked (rusty red!). We also know what some of the wall colors will be, as well as the floor in the kid's room. The old bathroom has left the building today, too. Too bad they took the old bathtub to the dumpster (they even cut it in half!!) - now I can't turn it into a cute little sanctuary, or something, that I could place at the beginning of our driveway...

Ok, ok, I'm joking, just in case someone thought I would really do that, for real. 

Most of the construction is being done while we're at work, so that's good. I have to admit I'm not a big fan of noises, such as drilling, hammering and whatever else comes with tearing down some walls, for instance. We need to figure out the tiles for that bathroom and, for some reason, I'm slowly running out of ideas. Might be just a slight case of information overload, or something. 

Another piece of news: I've met some new people. Odd, huh? I guess weirder things have happened. I went to a babywearing gathering some weeks ago, and then right after to a Homebirth Q&A meeting. Even though I don't plan to give birth at home, it was very nice to meet some people who are a lot like me and to learn some new things. I hope I'll see them all again!

Now that I look at this post, I'm kind of thinking I should update the blog more often, huh? This way, I keep jumping from one thing to another. But oh well?

I so don't like weekends!

Weekends are horribly boring. I used to like them, but they also used to have some substance to them. Ever since I moved to the other side of the ocean, they feel like a horrible waste of precious time. 

I bet this sounds weird, even moreso because I am not one of those people who are absolutely in love with their jobs and who can't wait to get up in the morning to go to work. I am nowhere near that, unfortunately. Last time I felt that way, I actually did something I really liked and was really interested in. Right now, work is what pays the bills. But, in all reality, it's in a way better than no work.

I am not a big fan of schedules, structures and rules either, but I do find life to be a lot more interesting if I can see a purpose of, say, my hours. So during weekdays, once I go in, there's the end of the shift to look forward to. Then some errands to run (usually just a grocery run or something similar, because this tiny little town makes sure nothing at all can be accomplished outside of the 8-5 window, unfortunately), a meal to cook for the next day, and overall, that's about it. Then the whole deal starts all over again the next morning.

Boring as hell, I tell you! 

It's getting close to my third anniversary in the American Midwest (a town of, according to the latest census, something like 50,000 people) and I still don't think I understand what is going on here. Or isn't going on, when I think about it. I don't know what people do for fun, or at least what I do know of I have to admit I don't consider to be interesting at all, or something I would personally do.

To me, weekends used to be time to get some cleaning done, maybe some shopping, but the majority of those free school/work-less hours would be spent with family and friends. People get together and go out, for instance. Sometimes, it's all about some bigger, organized gatherings that include grilling, drinks and whatnot, but a lot more often it's just a nice walk downtown, or somewhere else, and some time spent around a table of some sort, at a cafe bar or something similar. No mandatory foods, no horrible fountain drinks or just plain water. Instead, you actually get to choose between dozens of different non-alcoholic beverages, ranging from sodas to natural fruit juices, all of which come in single packages, instead of the fountains. And your cups are always made of glass (I really miss that, as I find the icky plastic containers to be, well, kind of disgusting). 

I miss the cafes and other places where you could sit down and just hang out without needing to order an entire meal (that then often consists of things you don't even like, or normally wouldn't ever eat). Once you're with people, nobody needs to run and be somewhere else the next hour, so even if you do choose to eat, you won't need to quit eating midway through your meal because the other party is getting ready to leave. People don't split the bills constantly, especially if you're out with someone you see on a regular basis. If you pay this time, they are likely to return the favour next time around. Or, seriously, who cares. I guess I am just not all that used to counting. 

Another thing I miss is - walking. I've been walking a lot lately, as part of my pregnancy exercise routine and it's pretty sad to not ever see another human being, pretty much. I don't walk through fields or woods, or anything like that, but instead the residential area where it would (eh, should) be pretty normal to see other people, especially during summer time, in the evening, when the sun is down and the temperature becomes not just bearable but actually pretty damn awesome. Yet, there is nothing. People don't use their yards, kids don't play outside, barely anyone ever walks their dog. I have no clue where everyone is and what they do with their time. It's kind of none of my business, but I find it all to be pretty depressing and sad. At almost any given time, the town looks like it's just been struck with several nuclear bombs; it just simply lacks life. 

Unless you go to the mall, I suppose. That place is always busy, and so are other stores. I suppose everyone needs some air conditioning and a roof above their head, for just in case purposes. Perhaps the fresh air and daylight turns people into pumpkins. 

Perhaps if I golfed, or wanted to run by myself or if I would be happy with a seventy year old walking companion wearing sneakers and a sun visor, there would be something for me to do that would include another person. Or maybe if I wanted to get stoned at a bar on weekends, I'd find someone to accompany me in my adventures. If none of the above tickles my fancy, I suppose I'm on my own.

There is not much going on in this town, anyway, and if someone does organize something, for this or that reason they love to plan their activities (shows, fairs, festivals, what have you) for the worst hours of the day during the summer. Wouldn't you love an outdoor activity in the sun from noon to three or something of the sort? You wouldn't? Wow, what's wrong with you? It's lovely out there during that time! The temperature usually hits way over 30C in the shade (with likely some nice forties or sixties s in the sun), it's awesome and humid and, above all, windy. And if you're lucky, your venture might even end with a trip to the hospital once you overcook and nearly die. 

Not my cup of tea, I have to admit. My fourth summer in Minnesota is about to begin and I am already hating it. Before I moved here, I was told summers were nice, not nearly as hot and bad as they are back in Croatia. Well, I suppose I was lied to. Except for that first year, 2009, when I came here at the beginning of August, everything else was plain crap. Too hot, too humid and absolutely useless. On top of that, I have yet to see some real spring and fall weather, too, so I have to officially say that I love the Minnesota winter. At least with that one, you know what you're getting and, if you wear the right clothes (which you can, because it's accessible and cheap), you can actually go places and get things done. In summer, you can die from boredom, unless dying outside is something you live for. With no tall buildings around, you can't usually even walk anywhere during the day because there's no shade. Parking away from the sun is impossible, as well. There's no sea, or even any clear water I'd want to dip my butt in anywhere in the area.

So, bleh. I am seriously disappointed with the weather here, just like I am disappointed with the social life - there are no options. I wonder if living in a bigger city would change this (on this side of the ocean, that is). I assume it would, or at least even Minneapolis sounds interesting when I hear about daily events on the radio. But for now, that's not an option.

We'll see what happens sometime down the road. At this point, I'm nearly halfway done cooking the little bun. Perhaps things will change when the baby arrives. (Or at least I'll have someone to take for a walk with me, even if it's against their will).

(Have I ever said how much I hate weekends and how pointless I think they are?)

D is for Delivery (and Doctor and Doula and Dilemmas...)

I brought up the delivery issue last night, so here's the deal:

I don't have the balls to do the whole homebirth thing, (un)fortunately, but I have to admit I've been considering it as one of the options. First of all, there is too much of the unknown going on, likely more than the next person would have. I'm not particularly scared for myself, because there are no complications expected at this point, at least, but I would hate to prevent the baby from getting any and all medical attention it might need. Granted, an ambulance can be here in no time, but if we're already at the hospital, they'll be by far closer.

 Then, what I also think is pretty important, this is my first pregnancy and, despite all the information I have gathered from books, other people or whichever resources, I am fairly certain I have no clue what labour feels like and what all I'll eventually have to go through. No matter how prepared I'll end up being, I kind of think a bunch of things will get me confused or startled. I know I would never do an unassisted homebirth, but, at this point, I just don't think I could rely on a midwife alone.

I also considered birthing centers for a moment, too, but it seems we only have one or two available in Minnesota and both are way too far from our house. Driving over an hour and a half in November? No way. There would be a fat chance I'd end up delivering on my own, in some ditch, with Derek gnawing on the umbilical cord, or something. Brrr. Also, when I really think about it, what is the difference between a birthing center and my own house? I'd probably feel more comfortable at home, then.

So, dear hospital, here we come. 

It took a long time to find a doctor I like, even before I was pregnant. A few that I got to see were just, pardonmyfrench, kind of too stupid for my liking. For now, I really have been satisfied with the doctor I've been seeing and I think we agree on just about any and all things, birth-related, that we've brought up so far. What I want to avoid at all cost, barring some real and serious medical issues, is induction. If the baby is fine and I am at least remotely in one piece, I don't care which date it is or whose schedule my delivery might fall into. No induction for me. If the baby is too big... well, who cares? What does too big even mean? It will get out eventually, if you let me mind my own business, pretty much.

I am, at this point at least, against any and all medication, too. I won't say I am absolutely set on it because it's too hard to predict the future, but I think I should be able to deal with all the pain (again, especially if they leave me alone to mind my own business). I've always been pretty good with pain management, but there are some things that could throw me off. Puking is one of them. Aaaargh. Of course there's a chance of getting sick in labour and that's one of the things I fear the most. Before I got pregnant, I was constantly freaking out at the thought of morning sickness. And then I had none of it! Or, well, the little spells every once in a while, usually in the evenings, were no big deal at all, especially since nothing ever came out. Hopefully I'll get as lucky when it comes to the big D-day, too. Or else. (This else part I imagine to be really horrifying. Poor me.)  So, yes, I would like no pitocin. I don't want my water to be broken. I don't want unnecessary fingers to be stuck up my uterus for various random reasons. I don't want any of these things to lead to an emergency C-section. If something is utterly wrong, just please schedule me for a section right away, okay?

So far, the doctor has been in agreement with me, but we have not yet had the big major delivery discussion. He said it would happen a bit later, probably after the 20 week mark. I know there's a hospital tour available, too, and I want to do that (as well as the birthing classes), but so far I've only gotten some weird information from the ladies at the front desk. Whatever flyer they gave me kind of related to nothing but a weird appointment with someone who is not my doctor, pretty much, towards the very end of the pregnancy. I'll have to ask again next time I go in for an appointment (which is in about two and a half weeks).

I also need to find out if it's possible for my doctor to show up at the hospital for the delivery. My little pregnancy booklet/record that I am supposed to carry around has his name on it, with a phone number attached, and it's in a field saying something along the lines of 'call for delivery'. Well, it'd sure be nice if I could just call him, any time day or night, and have him show up at the spot. I'd pay money, of course, I don't care. I just kind of don't want to be jumped by a bunch of nobodies I've never seen before, y'know. 

And then, finally, I've been considering a doula, too. Derek will come with, for sure, but at this point, neither of us knows what it will all be like and if we'll be able to stand up for my rights, should we need that, in the first place. I have no idea, though, where I would start looking. There are some available through the Mankato Clinic website, but that just sounds weird, even moreso because I don't even go to that clinic. I've managed to find a couple websites online, too, but I have to admit I didn't like the ladies I got to see there - they just didn't look like someone I would click with and, amongst other things, one of them mentions god too  many times in too few lines of text. That just doesn't seem to be my cup of tea.

In the meanwhile, I was made aware of a babywearing group from right here in Mankato and I joined the thing on Facebook the other day. I'll be going to one of their meetups next weekend, so I am looking forward to meeting some new people. I kind of expect to get at least some doula-related info there, too. After all, they seem to be those crunchy people. And yes, I also have to admit I had no clue what crunchy meant until just the other day, too.

I'm sure I forgot a whole lot of things I wanted to mention, but oh well. This topic will likely be brought up several more times before mid November, really!

Bla bla, blablabla, bla. Random ramblings, round 23479245

I assume you all know what happens when you drop a slice of bread with some sort of a topping on it, right? I intended to have a Wasa cracker for dinner tonight, with a thin layer of peanut butter and apricot jam on it. As I was turning to reach for my cup of milk, the cracker slid off my plate and landed face down on the kitchen tiles. Normally, I'd get a machine gun, a chainsaw or two and throw myself into seventy six fits of throbbing rage. Or something of the sort. While pregnant? No way. Don't care. I wiped the remains off the floor and spent a few seconds considering making another one. I've been the queen of calm and Derek keeps saying I should be pregnant forever and ever.

Uhm. I don't think so.

I really can't complain about anything in particular, other than sleep, or lack thereof. It takes seconds to fall drift away, but I wake up a few times during the night, sometimes to run to the bathroom, sometimes to figure out where my body parts are and to, hopefully, bring them back to life. More and more of them are sticking out too far and getting in the way of comfortable positions such as, you know, simply lying down on one's side, for instance. And then if I do somehow sleep, the cat decides it's playtime and walks all over me, meowing into my ear.

Ohwell. I suppose it can all only get worse. (And it will.)

I still fit in most of my pre-pregnancy clothes, even though my bump looks like I'm a few months ahead of my schedule. I've gained about a kilo and some grams (a bit less than three pounds) and I guess that's okay. Actually, I keep telling myself that it has to be okay, even though I am not at all pleased with the increasing numbers on my scale. I mostly wear maternity clothes, though, because they are just so much more comfortable. I ended up with a nice bunch of stuff, mostly gotten from various second hand stores and garage sales. I was glad to see that there are women who didn't care about flowery dresses or some weird tops I would prefer to see on a grandma (or great grandma) much rather than on any woman of reproductive age. 

We're starting to work on the upstairs of our house and the more we look at it, the more there needs to be done. I guess that's pretty normal, though. We need new carpet, new paint on the walls in the hallway and both bedrooms (the third room was painted sometime last year), new baseboards, new doors, new bathroom (I am keeping the toilet bowl, which is just fine and the sink, along with the faucet, because it's some funky old thing from the sixties, or even fifties, but everything else needs to go)... the kid's room needs a floor that won't be carpeted and I think we're going to go with some sort of laminate, but only if we can figure out thermal, as well as sound insulation. Whoever worked on the house originally forgot to insulate the garage ceiling, which then makes one third of the uptairs bedroom, which is going to be the baby's room, stupidly cold. Lots of work, all over the place, including the deck on the back side of the house, which also needs to be pulled out and replaced.

We are also guilty of having most of the kid's furniture, not only for the early... uhm, years. Ohwell. We like to be prepared, I guess, and I also don't like my projects to be unfinished, whenever I can help it! The high chair came in the mail the other day and we put it together this afternoon. It's very pretty (and it was expensive), but what justifies the price is ther fact that it converts into a chair for a kid all the way up to age 5, or so. Here's a photo of it, for some good measure:

Oh, also, I suppose I forgot to mention that we still have no clue what the little one actually is. I mean, okay, I suppose it's pretty safe to assume it's a little human being (despite the fact it looked like a scary alien in the newest ultrasound scan pics from the end of May), but the doctor said it was impossible to guess what was hiding between tiny crossed legs. Grrr, I say. The next scan is scheduled for June 20th, when I'll be 18 and a half weeks and I sure do expect the little one to show what it's hiding down there. Hopefully I'll be aware of its movement by then, too. So far, I don't think I've felt it, or at least I am not aware of it. During our next appointment, I need to go over my birth plan and things like that with the ob/gyn, too. There's a long list of questions I need answered, most of which are technical.

But more on that in some other post.