Intro: Meet Mama

Hello, I'm Mama. I'm a sometime-stay-at-home mother to my almost one-year-old boy-- we'll call him Boo Boo. My husband, we'll call him Pooky (he'll love that) works from home, so we're both doomed incredibly lucky to spend as much time as possible with the kiddo. This is not my first foray into blogging, but it might as well be-- while pregnant and in the middle of renovating our home (not personally, but still) I had the grand idea to blog about both. I posted a total of three times. Two of those posts were in the same day. None of them was about the renovation. Have I mentioned that I'm a slightly distracted procrastinator? Eventually I'll figure out how to migrate those whopping three posts over here. Or not. I suppose cut & paste is always an option. At any rate, I hope to be slightly more consistent now-- it's my goal to post at least twice every week.  Wish me luck!

Intro: Meet Sprout

I figured out how to import old blog posts!  The following three posts are a bit of light background reading.  Enjoy.

Pooky and I had our first OB appointment and ultrasound when I was 6w3d pregnant—kind of early, all things considered, but since we found out we’re expecting when I was only 3w2d along, it felt like forever. I’d had a couple of spotting scares in those early weeks, and while my beta draws (742 hCG at 18 DPO and 1800 hCG at 20 DPO) were reassuring, I was really craving some visual proof that this whole pregnancy thing wasn’t just a figment of my imagination.

I was holding my breath (and my bladder—32 oz. of water is a lot to consume and retain for over an hour) while the ultrasound technician moved the wand around on my belly, but still had room in my lungs to gasp when she pointed out the amniotic and yolk sacs and inside, Sprout’s impossibly small, flickering heartbeat. Neither Pook nor I were prepared for the incredible rush of that moment, and we’ve pretty much been playing catch-up with our emotions ever since. Our OB came in shortly after the tech took the necessary measurements (which were right on track) and took the wand himself, unknowingly christening our tiny babe when he proclaimed, “Looks like you’ve got a little sprout in there.”

Sprout as a grain of rice at 6w3d:

Our next peek inside was at our 10w4d appointment, during which we not only saw a few bouncing movements (by far Pooky’s favorite baby-related occurrence up to that point), but were also able to hear Sprout’s heartbeat on the Doppler—that whoosh whoosh whoosh sound still thrills me every time.

Sprout as a gummy bear at 10w4d:

We declined any sort of pre-natal screening (no quad screen or NT scan for us), so our next appointment at 14w4d was fairly uneventful, though we did get the chance to hear Sprout’s cute little heartbeat again. Our next ultrasound was the anatomy scan at 18w3d, a.k.a. the BIG ultrasound, as so many couples choose to find out the sex of their little ones. Pooky and I, to the dismay of pretty much everyone we know, took the road less traveled and opted to wait for the delivery room to find out what color we’ll be painting Sprout’s nursery. The time the tech spent on this ultrasound was about three times the amount she’d spent on the first, and Pook and I took in every second with a mixture of awe and pride—we saw Sprout’s feet, arms crossed at the wrists, slightly startling face, strong spine, and my favorite, the sweetest profile ever (it seems like Sprout kind of resembles me, though that might just be wishful thinking on my part). We also discovered that I have an anterior placenta, so while Sprout was moving here and there during the ultrasound, I still wasn’t feeling anything that I could definitely say was baby.

Sprout looking like Mama at 18w3d:

Now at 24w3d, I’m feeling Sprout off and on all day long—always low on the left and high on the right, and sometimes in both places at once. I think I can pinpoint the 17w mark as the week I first felt flutters, though I didn’t realize I was actually feeling baby movements until a couple weeks later. Pooky got his first kick to the palm at 20w2d (it was the first time I could feel Sprout from the outside as well), and we saw visual movement just last week at 23w2d. Our little one is growing stronger every day, and we’re so lucky to be along for the ride of our lives.

1 + 1 = 3

Pooky and I found out on our 2nd anniversary that we're expecting our first little one. I won't go into every detail (don't worry), but I'll say that we'd been charting to avoid for almost a year, and were incredibly lucky to get pregnant our first month TTC. I told myself that it could, and most likely would, take months, and that I shouldn't get my hopes up so soon. Nevertheless, I surreptitiously bought a few pregnancy tests, and on the morning of our anniversary (at 12 DPO), sneaked into the bathroom to pee on them.

The first was a Walgreen's cheapie-- right after I checked it and swore I saw a line, I remembered that blue dye tests were notorious for giving false positives. How could I have forgotten?! I needed confirmation.

Next up was a First Response which, to my amazement, also showed the faintest of lines. This was it-- time to go to the digital (I'd heard that they're not as sensitive, but by their nature leave less room for interpretation error).

And cue the Clear Blue Easy digital-- it took the entire allotted waiting time, but "Pregnant" finally popped up in the window.

The proof is in the pudding:

I took the digital into our bedroom and practically shoved it in Pook's face and said, "Happy anniversary, Papa!" It took him a minute or two (his reaction was slowed considerably by a lack of light/contacts/glasses, combined with his anti-morning personality), but he finally got it and said, "Really?" To which I replied, "Apparently." We're not overly sappy people, obviously.

We spent the rest of the day in a dreamy, expectant-parent fog, both thrilled and totally overwhelmed at once.

Introductions

Hi, I'm Mama. Clearly. I just turned 30. (Whoa.) I'm pregnant-- yea! And I've started a blog. Oh, how original: a pregnant chick who has something to say.

My husband and I are on day one of a 3 month renovation of our attic/future master suite. Sprout is due in 4 months. Cross your fingers that our contractor stays on schedule, and that baby does, too.

There's more to me than just drywall dust and an expanding waistline, though-- I'm also a bookworm lawyer with a Sephora addiction and a weakness for Citizens of Humanity jeans. (Yes, even maternity CoH.)

Pooky and I have been married for two and a half years-- we started as friends in college and dated for a few years prior to our year-long engagement. Our home is (currently) a cape cod-esque 2 bedroom, 1 bathroom, with a previously (and shoddily) converted attic, built in 1941. We have a cat, Roxie, and a dog, our Shiba Inu, Kuma.

Roxie, a.k.a. Roxie-Roo, Roo Baby, Fat Chicken, Arctic Wildcat, The Duchess:

Kuma, a.k.a., Kuma Booma, Scaredy Puppy, Piggy Puppy, Chicken Little (who doesn't always look this sad, I promise):

And I think that's enough for now-- the rest I'll make up as we go along.