Well, this has certainly been an exhausting week.

On Friday, I woke up with another headache at the base of skull. It was relentless! I took Tylenol on every 4 hours and it didn't phase it at all. I can only assume that my neck is suffering the consequences of the way I have to sleep these days, but let me tell you, I've had about enough of these headaches. I had to soldier through though, because some of our sweetest friends threw a diaper shower for Cody, and it was an evening full of laughter and youtube. Because what's a party without competing to find the funniest youtube video? We really do have the wittiest of friends, and the intricate details of the shower further reminded us of why we're so thankful for them. I loved seeing Cody interact with his man friends, and I'm thankful that he'll have people to call when our sweet baby is screaming at the top of her lungs and I'm crying hysterically and all he can do is observe the chaos. It's nice to know that he'll have a friend that can tell him "Take the baby away from Kaylea, tell her to go and take a shower for the first time in 9 days, and bounce that screaming child from one end of your house to the other." He'll need that. I'll need that. I'm glad that he has people who have walked this road before him and can tell him in the calmest of voices:  "Sometimes they scream..." I only hope that Cody's hair survives the excessive head scratching ahead. That's Cody's nervous habit. It's only of my favorite things about him. He normally says "Hmmm" and then uses his top knuckles to scratch the side of his head. My nervous habit involves drumming my fingertips together. It's not as interesting or fun to watch. Anywho, after another pregnancy induced rabbit trail, we had a wonderful evening celebrating Cody's transition from Husband to Daddy. He's going to be wonderful.

 
 I laughed and laughed at this card. You'll recall Cody's baby name choice was Zanella, so our punch was delightfully named accordingly.  
 
 









This was our fun dessert table. So attentive to fun details. I loved the flowers on the table!


 







This was Cody's man food bar. Wings were devoured by the females as well.








He got a few boxes of 5 hour energy. We laughed, but also died inside a little bit thinking about the sleep we'll be losing.

 
I don't know about this goofy look he's giving, but isn't his diaper toolbelt TOO cute?!


 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
On Saturday, I woke up to another headache. At 7:30 in the morning. When I rolled over to check the time, Cody was creepily staring back at me. I guess we were both rested enough to be wide awake, so we laid around until 8 and then got up to begin one of the busiest Saturday we've had in quite some time. One of my dearest friends, my wonderful sister-in-law, my brother's amazing woman, and my lovely boss came together to throw me a baby shower that completely blew my mind and exceeded all expectations. I requested Pink and Navy as the theme colors, but that was the only thing I was allowed to know. One of my favorite thing about Ella's name is that her daddy has shoved Elephants on her since the very beginning. One of his nicknames for our sweetest baby is "Ella-phant," and so I was thrilled when I walked into the shower to see elephants EVERYWHERE! Elephant cupcakes, elephant diaper cakes, elephant cake, elephant wrapping paper... elephants took the place over. It was wonderful! Alyssa took so many wonderful pictures, so I had to combine them into collage form in order for the blog to let me post them. Here's a peek at our day!

 

 

There was something about seeing the carseat that made everything real. I was suddenly aware that we were there to celebrate this tiny human in my uterus... the tiny human that I grew. I couldn't look at the carseat because I got pregnant and hormonal, but it was truly insane to know that in just a few short weeks, this baby would be in my arms, forever attached to my heartstrings. I made it through the shower with no tears shed, which I was thankful for, because I've never understood pregnant folk who cry through their gifts. My sweet niece was so excited to help me open my gifts, and as frustrating as it was to calm her down repeatedly, it was a sweet memory for me. I sweat most of my body weight off during the shower, and I was so thankful for my paper plate fan. I don't know if it was because I was in front of a room of people, because I'm pregnant, or because it was just that hot, but I've never been so miserably uncomfortable in a dress. My thighs were sticking together, my hair was clinging to my face, I was praying that my deodorant held up, and I counted down the seconds until I could put my ghetto shorts on. I started feeling a little wonky because I was surrounded by food that I neglected to eat (there was no time!) and somehow managed to eat two pieces of orange cake at the end of the shower. My sugar spiked and I started feeling shaky. You know how it is. I was also WAY behind on my water intake for the day, and my excessively sweaty pits probably didn't do much to keep me hydrated. I was ready to be at home and sprawled across my couch by the shower's end. I want to take a moment to say that I applaud those of you that waited to have your shower between weeks 34 and 36. I am not as brave or as strong as you are. I was worn completely out when it was all said and done, so I am thankful we knocked it out during week 31.

After a sandwich and two liters of water at my house, I started feeling a little more human. I wanted a nap, but Cody's sweet family drove all the way from Wheeler to be at the shower, so it was only right that we spent a little quality time with them before they returned home. I spent most of the evening sprawled across a patio lounge chair, with my feet resting on the headrest. Not super comfortable for my back, but my feet were too swollen for me to combat any longer. I remain thankful for a husband that recognizes when his wife is on the verge of a breakdown, so we left the party much earlier than I had planned, but it meant bedtime for me, so I didn't complain even once. I slept for twelve straight hours (excluding the 15 minutes I was awake before Cody made me go back to bed when I woke up at 8:30.) I felt refreshed and revived, so I enthusiastically started barreling through Ella's things from the shower. ALL. DAY. LONG. I was so cranky by the end of the day that I considered locking her room and never entering again. But perspective kicked in, and my heart took flight at the knowledge that people love our baby enough to completely fill her room to the brim with things that she'll need to survive the first couple of years of her life. We were overwhelmed by the outpouring of blessings given to us, and even though I wonder how we'll make this thing work financially sometimes, the shower made it evident that the Lord has blessed this chapter of our lives... so I don't worry about it much these days.

The rest of the week was pretty slow paced. The squash section of our garden is blowing us away, with fruits that will be ready by the end of this week, no doubt. The tomatoes are not cooperating with us this year. There are tomatoes all over the plants, but the weather won't stay hot enough to turn them red, so they're getting old before they can be enjoyed. The fluctuating temps aren't helping. But things are still growing instead of dying, so we'll count it as a victory. Our front yard is turning a magnificent shade of green, which is a major relief, because for a couple of weeks it was yellow. As in dead looking. And Cody obsessed while I rolled my eyes. It's finally turning, though, and it makes our sweet little house look even sweeter. I love it.

The only other major news I have is that Ella finally turned! I've been carrying her transverse this entire pregnancy, and I was really starting to panic a little bit. We had our last sonogram yesterday at the doctor's office, and saw more of her face than we ever did at the sneak-a-peek sonogram. Her blasted feet are still hanging out in her face, but the kid is head down, and that's where we needed her. The best way I can describe the way she's laying is to say to envision a diver. You know, when they flip and grab their feet until they hit the water? After researching said dive, I've learned it's called a Pike dive. It Looks like this:

I tried to find a man with more clothes, but I figure that since this guy was in the Olympics, it's okay. Anyway, that's pretty much exactly how Ella lays. Her back curves along the right side of my stomach, her sweet little hiney is up by my diaphragm, and she brings her feet back down to her face. So once again, instead of seeing her entire face, we saw her big foot and what was left of her face.Our weird baby chews on her umbilical cord (I don't know, she's Cody's kid.) So we also got plenty of cord pictures, but it's okay. It'll be even sweeter to not completely know what to expect when we see her for the first time. Knowing that this was the last ultrasound was bittersweet for me. I spent a lot of time wishing the pregnancy away, but I really will miss seeing my stomach convulse. I'll miss the feeling of knowing I'm doing something right when the ultrasound tech confirms perfect growth. I'll especially miss the way Cody looks at my belly when I roll over in the mornings. But I'm mostly ready to just get the show on the road. I hear that there are days of  severe discomfort just around the river bend (Pocahontas really was the worst disney film), so I'm not super thrilled about it, but I'm ready to get through June. Cody leaves me next Friday for SGY camp, then my parents leave me the day he gets back for a "work conference" in Florida. By the time everybody is done traveling (while I sit on my couch with Todd the obese dachshund,) It'll be mid-June. I'll be done working, then I'm only requiring Ella to stay in-utero for 2 more weeks before I begin throwing in a "And Ella can come pretty much whenever" into prayer time. I'm ready. I only have 2 more doctors appointments over the next three weeks before I begin going every week! God bless the Child, it's time to start getting excited. Here's a picture of my baby, and I am aware that she looks like a blob, but the tech really had to adjust the contrast on the pictures JUST to hide her foot (and cord) and let us see a peek of that face. Look at that fat baby's cheeks. I love them.

Oh, also... Ella-phant is guesstimated to weigh 4 pounds and 3 ounces. My books and app say that at 32 weeks, she should be 3 pounds and 7 ounces. Don't mind my fat child. No wonder the stretch marks are starting to pile up on my stomach. Ugh. They're so hideous. Anyway, that's not something I want to think about right now. Speaking of, I made about 9 attempts to take a bump picture today, but if I'm being honest, those pictures are getting harder and harder to look at. I love my baby, but I feel I could advocate for the Save the Whales campaign right now. So here's one from my baby shower... right smack in the middle of my sweatfest.  Please excuse my ghost skin.

Did you know that my boss delivered her son at 32 weeks? He was perfectly healthy, just done growing, I guess. Her water broke, she had a baby, then they went home two days later. Isn't that INSANE?! That would be like me going into labor... like now. This instant. Ella even weighs more than he did. I can't handle the crazy. Okay. Farewell!

Week 30

Dear Tums,

I have to say that our love affair was unexpected, but certainly not unwelcome. That's a Levi Smith song, but I feel like it rings true in our lives. I've always judged others who depended on you, considered them weaklings and swore that I would never need your chalky residue in my life. I recognize my foolishness now, thankfully, and I'll spend the rest of my life celebrating your existence. You have been a relief in times of acidic peril, truly rescuing me from the depths of a darkness I've never known. My heart has burned, not with the passion of a lover, but with acid from Hades himself. I've come to need your berry flavored goodness in my life, despite my best attempts to fight the feeling.Thank you for your faithfulness, never disappointing me, even though it takes 45 of you an evening to keep the acid away from my esophagus. I'm forever indebted to you, and though our time remaining together is fleeting, I'll always hold a special place for you in my memories. Like Rose on Titanic remembered Jack. XOXOXOXO

Kaylea


Ya'll. Heartburn has plagued me since about week 23, but it was always kind of off and on, and it never really bothered me enough to change my diet. My life now revolves around what will cause the least amount of acidic damage to my throat. Because it doesn't matter what I eat, it's going to cause heartburn. I had a peanut butter and Jelly sandwich for a snack yesterday. Regretted it immediately. It's absolutely, positively, indubitably, completely the worst part of pregnancy for me. That's a big statement to make. Pregnant women deal with babies in rib cages (which tickles me more than it hurts,) ligaments waking you from a dead sleep if you move in the slightest wrong way, near constant back aches, front aches, shoulder aches, and sleep deprivation. Nausea at the most random times, dizzy spells from the hormones racing through your system, swelling of multiple extremities at once. Food Aversions, Food Cravings, Food binges, and a brand new digestive tract that very rarely cooperates. There are body changes that I can't even bring myself to discuss, but they are UGLY, and it's hard to look in the mirror lately. So for me to say that heartburn is the worst part of this ordeal speaks volumes about my hatred for it. I should really invest in the TUMS company, because maybe then I'll get some of my life savings back. God Bless Tums.

The garden is THRIVING. There are tiny little squash, squash blooms, zucchini galore, and tomatoes already weighing heavily on the branches. Nothing is edible yet, but I was really concerned about whether we needed to rip everything up and try again, or soldier through. The weather has not been an ally for us this year, and good weather is kind of an asset for a good garden. I hear that summer temps are on the horizon for us though, so really, it could only be about a week before I can chow down on some garden goods. I was finally brave enough to try some of the squash I blanched last year (I had never blanched squash for freezing before,) and it was amazing. AMAZING. So I'll be a blanching fool with my newborn baby this summer. Anyway, I don't know if it was a craving or a streak of inspiration, but I made Cody plant a few cantaloupe seeds. We've never done cantaloupe and I've never felt the need to, considering Pecos cantaloupes are sold on every corner of Odessa in the summer, but it's too late to turn back now. I figure worst case scenario, if they don't taste like they should, we don't plant cantaloupe next Summer. I love simple solutions. It's really hard to be a gardener in West Texas. You never really know where the line is. It's taking everything in my power not to throw green bean seeds in the ground. But I've never been very successful with green beans. I get like 2 green beans per plant. 6 green beans do not make a successful dinner. Cucumbers are also a battle that we have surrendered against. Even when we make them grow, they're so horribly bitter. They require mild temps and a lot of water... which is something we can't provide in West Texas. I also can't believe that it's almost time to plant the okra seeds again. Okra requires HOT temps and very little TLC. They're perfect for someone who doesn't really have time for a garden, but enjoys a little southern with their dinner. Ah. I love our garden. I love this season of our lives every year, and always resent the winter a bit when it rolls around. Here's a few pictures of our progress. Aren't squash blooms pretty? I would never think that a squash was on the other end of that flower. The tiny guys are the cantaloupes sprouting, and Elle just made me laugh with her Batdog impersonation while we pruned tomatoes this morning. 

Ha, I love that the garden has completely taken over this blog about my pregnancy this week. My bad. This week was a tough week physically, but I'm sure that has something to do with my 4 pound baby taking her toll on my body. I'm going to have a super shallow moment and confess that I found my first "stomach" stretch mark. I've grown accustomed to stretch marks on my sides and thighs, but to see one on my stomach was crippling. Of course, I made a rookie mistake and ran to the closest scale, where I almost swallowed my teeth. I've grown so used to gaining just a couple of pounds a month, so to actually see that I'm really beginning to gain more than that is hard. It's not exactly an opportune time to begin dieting, but I'll definitely be cutting back on some of my carb intake. Carbs are just so convenient. I don't expect my doctor to be too disappointed in my weight, but I won't be surprised if he says "Hey Soul Sister, let's take er easy on the sweet tooth!" Actually, he would never say that, though I wish my Doctor called me Soul Sister. He's more the type to say "Hey, so we're gaining some weight..." then he'll see the look of shame on my face and say "Well, we're growing a baby, so it's not a big deal, but just keep in mind that you really only need about 300 extra calories per day... which isn't a whole lot." Subtle, but still a slap in the face. Oh well. I only have 9 more weeks. If I learn how to say "No" again to second portions, I should be alright.This also means that I should limit my fruit loops consumption to one bowl a day instead of four. 

My ligaments are stretching pretty miserably this week. It's a pain equivalent to REALLY pulling a muscle, but there's not a whole lot you can do about it once they start their stuff. You grin and bear it... or hold your breath... or freeze whatever you're doing in case you can change the course of your destiny by backtracking. Some days aren't bad, but some days are miserably uncomfortable. But it's just another one of those things that you grow accustomed to. The baby lays sideways in my stomach, so most of the time, my back suffers the consequences of our day more than the rest of my body. We're praying with all of our souls that she turns soon, as I've been assured I'll get a little relief. Other than that, nothing has changed much. My appetite has increased dramatically, but it's a limited menu thanks to our good friend acid reflux. I feel pretty good most days, because I transitioned to part time hours at my job. I go in later and leave early, which gives me time to relax a little bit before Cody gets home and I resume wife duties. It's been one of the best decisions for us... as my moods are significantly happier, I don't go to bed at 10:02, and I'm generally a bit more patient with people. I love part-time. Beginning part-time also marked the beginning of my last month of work, so it's really pretty unbelievable that we're already to this point. The days used to drag, and now we're almost to the end. I love, love, love it! 

I feel like I'm forgetting something, but that's just the way I live my life these days. My first Mother's Day was a sweet day, filled with continual affirmation from my husband that he chose the perfect woman to grow his baby, and that he was just as crazy about me as I am about him. At church that evening, we listened to a message that re-affirmed everything that I am as a mother AND woman to the Lord. I'm thankful for a church that strives to remind me that being a mother is not my identity, because I know that I'll tend to forget that when a baby is screaming her head off and I can't figure out why. I'm beginning to feel very prepared for the journey ahead, and I can only trust that it's because the Lord has heard my prayers. I've felt more peace about being her mom this week than I've felt since I saw those 2 pink lines. I've loved watching myself transition from fretful to relaxed, and I love that I can see that transition. My prayer times are filled with hopes and dreams instead of frets and worries, and I think maybe that's part of what has made these past couple of weeks seem so boring and uneventful. I'm not looking forward to labor, and I'm sure I'll be the laughing stock of the hospital when I start buzzing for my epidural after the first major contraction... but let's be honest, who wants to be the weirdo that enjoys pain? Exactly. 

She is a sweet, wiggly, stubborn baby. She loves fruit, hates most Mexican food, and brings so much laughter into our lives. She has captivated our hearts, and we're already wondering how we ever lived without her. Well, I know how we lived. It involved a little more wine and a lot less antacids. It involved cereal for dinner and gallons of sweet tea. It involved a gallbladder and a functioning digestive system. I feel I'm straying from the sentiment. She is dearly loved and adored, and we're so excited for you to see her. Here's the bump as we enter into our 31st week of this pregnancy, beginning the 9 week countdown!

Also, a small side note for those invited to the baby shower, it's at the Ellen Noel Art Museum. Silly Alyssa forgot to mention that part when she typed the address. You're not at the wrong facility! It looks like this: 

See you next week with an excessively emotional update about the baby shower and my new house full of baby items.

29 Weeks/ Mother's Day

*****Doing things a little differently this week because it was such a boring week.  I passed my 3 hour glucose test with flying colors, and my doctor believes that the only reason I failed my initial test was because I was fighting an infection (apparently my white blood cells were elevated.) That would make sense, because I was a snot filled, lung hacking, cranky, continually exhausted pregnant woman that week. So, that was good and annoying to hear. That was the only big news! So, this week you get a letter to Ella (for her baby book. Which is the entire purpose of this blog.)

Hello, Sweetest one...

This is a really weird day for me, and a really weird letter to write. You see, on the outside of the womb, tomorrow is Mother's Day. It's a holiday dedicated to honoring mom, getting her a small gift as a token of appreciation, competing with your siblings to make mom cry the hardest with your words in a greeting card, and fighting restaurant crowds to bond as a family while mom looks at her flock and smiles at a job well done. We hug mom a little tighter, voluntarily take photos to make her happy, and make sure we say "I love You" before we say goodbye. Mother's Day is a good day, and I've always looked forward to cashing in on it. Always. Like, I was thirteen years old and thinking "Mother's Day is awesome. I can't wait to get in on this action."

Yet as we approach the day, whenever people tell me "Happy Mother's Day!", I find that I don't know how to respond. Part of me smiles, Part of me scoffs, Part of me feels like throwing up. Because it's all over now, Cinderellie. Though I technically don't have you here to show off to the world, you're kind of hard to miss in this belly. People see you, and acknowledge you, and they smile. Pregnant bellies do something to people. I don't know if it makes them remember a time before soccer tournaments and hectic schedules, or maybe it gives people the people who want a baby belly hope, or maybe they're just happy that it's me and not them. I don't know what it is, but even though you're not here to cuddle with, you've been accepted into our family by society. Well done. Anyway, it's hard to believe that I've finally made it to the realms of motherhood. And that's the part that's kind of nauseating. So before you finish baking, there are some things you should know. I feel it'll bring us closer, and it's better to clear the air.

1. I am absolutely crazy about your daddy. I mean, I adore him. I love his fluffy hair, his contagious laugh, his redneck tendencies, and how much he loves me. Sometimes I'm a little nervous about sharing him with you. We have the most wonderful time together. We love to sit on the porch together and talk about our dreams. We love gardening together. We love to hold hands while we walk. We really just love being together, and it's been that way for about 5 years now. I'm not saying that things have always been easy, because sometimes marriage is hard. But it's always been right. It's always been worth it. I know that having you is only going to make us love each other more, but I also know that you're going to wreck his world. I'm excited to watch you two fall in love with each other, but part of me is sad to know that the days of being the only girl in his life are almost over. The other part of me knows that The Lord blessed us with a wonderful man, and I have a feeling that he'll do everything he can to let us both know how deeply loved we are. So it'll all work out. Oh, and just so you know, we kiss a lot. We love to kiss each other, so that's just something you're going to have to learn to live with.

2. Sometimes I'm terrified of being a mom. I know babies. I know how to pacify them. I'm not scared of you as an infant. I'm scared of you as a child. I'm afraid of how I'll respond the first time somebody hurts your feelings... because I just want to be honest with you, girls can be vicious. Even at 10 years old. I'm afraid that you're going to love math, and I won't know how to encourage it. The alphabet doesn't belong in the number system. I don't know WHY your daddy loves it the way he does, but it's pretty much not American. I'm afraid that you'll roll your eyes at spelling and grammar, and I won't know how to cope with it. I'm afraid of the first time you tell me you have a "boyfriend" in the 6th grade, because I'll be forced to inform you that you don't. And then find some way to tell your daddy this news, because there will be no secrets. I'm afraid that I won't be patient enough. I tend to expect children to act civilized and calm at all times, and I want to be okay with you acting like a looney tune sometimes. I'm afraid of being a worrying mom, and I don't want to discourage you if you're fearless. I'm afraid of being too strict, but I want you to be a good person. I want you to be a reader, I want you to be intelligent, and I want you to fascinate people with your trivia. I will not allow Dora the Explorer in this house. I can't handle that nonsense. I'm afraid of learning to let you go as you get older, because I already want to protect you from heartache. I'm not even going to dive in to junior high and high school, because I'll hyperventilate. Basically, I love you so madly. I'm so absolutely in love with your sweet face that I'm afraid of not being enough. I'm confident that the Lord wouldn't have given you to me if I wasn't ready, but I don't know anything about kids over the age of eight, because I tend to avoid them. Fortunately for you, I'm the only mom you'll know for awhile. So I have a little bit of time to sort through my fears. And by the way, I know that I have nothing to fear because we're on team Jesus, but Jesus appreciates it when I bring my worries to him. I just felt it was appropriate to let you know ahead of time that I have no idea what I'm doing, but I'm willing to figure it out... because I kind of adore you, and also, it's too late to turn back.

3. This is your Pappy, and he loves me more than he loves you. Okay, that was a little immature of me, but it'll be a while before you can actually read this. By then, you'll know how much he loves you... But he'll probably love you in an entirely different dynamic that I'll still be jealous of, but willing to tolerate. I just wanted to clear the air. He was mine first, and I will thump you in the head if you try to steal him from me.

4. This is your Nani, and she is the reason that you have clothes in your closet. She's the reason you've had clothes in your closet since you were an embryo. She will move heaven and earth for you, and while it's incredibly awkward for me, she has full conversations with you... even though you're in my stomach and ignore her most of the time. She encourages me to survive each day of pregnancy, forced me to feed you when I was the sickest (you'll recall the gallbladder incident,) and has been super involved with every step of your life so far. We are eternally indebted to Nani, and it makes me love you more because you've brought me even closer to her. So Mom, I know you'll read this because you're a cyber-stalker, Happy Mother's Day. Thanks for carrying me through this whole journey, you'll never know how much it means to me. Also, I will consider calling you the evening before her birth instead of the hour before. It's the least I can do.
 

 

 

I think those were the major things. You should mostly know that you have about 10 weeks before your world is wrecked, but you have no idea what you're coming home to. I don't know that a baby has ever been more loved than you are, and you're not even here yet. I'm ready to kiss your toes while they're still pretty, but I probably won't do that after you're about 6 months old. I'm so blessed and overjoyed to be your mom, and I can promise you that nobody will be crazier about you than me. There was a time where I wasn't even sure I'd ever get to be a mom, so that fathom that you're mine is still so breathtaking. I cannot wait to share dreams with you, to hold you, to introduce you to Jesus, and to take you to a Rangers game. You are loved, adored, welcomed, and cherished... and I'll spend the rest of my life making sure you know it. Here's a photo of us, and I'm so excited to see what you look like in next year's picture.

 

 

 

I love you more than my luggage,

 

Mom. (Mama, Mumsy, Mumsicle... whatever you want to call me. Anything but mommy. It's my least favorite mom-ism)



Week 28

Well, I failed the one hour glucose test. I'm not shocked, but a part of me was still disappointed. I felt so great during the one hour wait that I just knew they were going to pass me. And I will say that I didn't fail miserably, but still enough that they called and said "Come pick up the order for the 3 hour!" I thought about saying "NO!" But that wouldn't have been the grown up decision. Part of me wants to go Monday and get the thing over with, but the other part of me looks at my very bruised arm from the last go around and thinks "Meeeeh." This test requires 4 separate needle pricks, and even though they switch arms each time, I can't imagine that it would feel great sticking a needle into an already bruised arm...twice.

*UPDATE* Today is Monday, and I didn't go for my 3 hour glucose test. I have a terrible tension headache at the point where my skull and spine connect, and sometimes you just know when it's a bad idea to have 6 tubular devices of blood pulled out of your system. I would've been on the floor.  I've also been awake since 5:45, because husband had to leave town this morning, and his alarm welcomed and beckoned me into the day. Well, it woke me up, at least. It was amazing to feel my sweet girl move on both sides of my womb at once as I stayed in the bed with a pillow over my face, begging for sleep to return to me. But it didn't. My back was hurting, my legs felt like weights, my hips ached,  and my stomach was alive with the glory of Ella... sleep never returned. PLUS, my arm is still bruised and it hurts to poke it with my finger; so I said no to needles this morning. Exhausted + Needle Pricks + Fasting + Headache + 3 hour Wait= The recipe for awakening the ugliest and meanest side of me. I'll try to be a better person on Wednesday... but not today.

*UPDATE, UPDATED* Today is Wednesday, and I did go for my 3 hour glucose test. It  was an interesting ride. This week, the clinic was out of "orange" flavor, so I was given Lemon-Lime. It tasted like watered down Sprite. Not bad, but not as smooth as the orange. They took my blood when I got there, I drank the juice, Then they took my blood on the hour, every hour, for the following 3 hours. I wish they would've provided a bed, because I was sleepy and bored, but I only had to drink the juice once. My arms are very sore, and quite bruised (especially the arm that was already bruised), but again, this hasn't been a bad experience.  

I also had my Rhogam shot on Friday. It was the first shot I've received in the hip (I prefer arms, in case you're planning to offer me a shot,) and after the initial shock to my system wore off, I was ready to roll. I would be totally okay with Ella being a negative blood type at birth so that I don't have to get another, but it's good to know it's a tolerable shot if I have to do it again. I would choose it over a shot in the mouth any day of the week. Those are the WORST.

I was supposed to start "Kick Counts" This week, but homegirl isn't feeling it. Ella moves of her own accord and will, and sometimes that means 10 times an hour, and sometimes that means 10 times in a morning. I've really struggled with it, since all of the books say that it could mean a problem, but her heartbeat is strong, and she does move. I've talked to my Doctor about it, and he says it could be the way she's laying. She could be moving all day everyday, but not in an obvious way. He seems confident that I would know if something wasn't right, so until then, I torture my child through the various ways I've read to make them move. Flashlights? Immune. Sweets? Immune. Cold Water? Immune. Lying on my side? Immune. Music? Immune. A little belly shaking? Immune. She moves when she wants to. That's the best way to describe my frustration. I've noticed that when I'm relaxed and happy, she's WAY more active. But since I'm at work for the majority of the day and generally pretty unhappy about being there, she stays pretty still. She usually moves when I laugh, and she always moves when I'm sitting in the rocking chair talking to her daddy. I've learned to be still through the parts of pregnancy that make me anxious. The Lord has his hand on her life, and even though some days it's REALLY hard, I have to walk in the confidence that He really does have things under control. I can't see her, but He can. She belongs to Him, and it's really better for all of us.

We had our Sneak-a-Peek ultrasound yesterday. She is still stubborn, but it's easy to get over because she's so funny! She lays across my stomach horizontally, giving the public the impression that I have love handles, but that's beside the point. She lays with her face looking up (as if she was looking at me), and her legs up by her head. She sucks on her toes and loves putting her arms behind her head. She does the sweetest little half-grin, and though I was disappointed by our pictures, it was sweet to be able to see her acting like a baby. Her head measured 28 weeks, Her legs measured 27 weeks, and her sweet little belly measured 31 weeks. Yep, 31 weeks. They guesstimated her weight at 3 pounds and 2 ounces. My app says that she could potentially triple her weight over the next eleven weeks (Please Lord, no,)  so she'll only get pudgier. The way things are looking now, she's petite, fat, and blessed with incredibly large feet. She has her daddy's cheekbones, without a doubt, and she never gave us a super definite picture of her nose, but it's not looking quite as puggy in her profile. The tech swears that she has hair, but I don't know that I believe that. I guess we'll just have to see. Her lips are my favorite part of our pictures. They're so sweet. Agh, I'm really just in love with her, and her daddy is equally (if not more) captivated. I'm so thankful for technology.  

I've done super well with opting out of buying clothes for tiny girl. I know my mother would never let her look homeless, but if she's anything like her daddy's pictures suggest, she'll be a diaper baby most of our days anyway. It'll be hard for me to let her have that freedom (because I am NOT an advocate for clothe-less children,) but if she's happy, she's happy. Back to the point, I've bought maybe 3 dresses and a gown that made me laugh hysterically. I bought all of those things before I even knew for certain that she was a girl, so to say that shopping has been minimal is an understatement. She's being born at a super awkward time of year anyway, because when she transitions into 3-6 month attire, it'll be October, so most of the clothing out right now won't do any good. I did splurge last week, however. I bought the sweetest little mint green romper. I plan to get her newborn pictures made in it, but I've been obsessed with these rompers since before I was pregnant. Seriously, ask my mom. I used to show it to her and say "I'll buy one in every color when Cody and I have a baby." Well, I can't afford one in every color, but I'm super excited to get a red one for her first Christmas Pictures. A red Romper with a white cardigan and white tights... with Red Shoes...or maybe even Christmas socks, because a girl should always choose comfort over pain. Her daddy is anti-big bow, so maybe I'll put one of those reindeer headbands on her. It's a Christmas picture, it's meant to be tacky and hysterical, right? Right? Hm. Anyway, here's her sweet romper:

Um, I don't know if anyone has paid attention to the weather, but it's MAY and 46 degrees outside... with a cute little asterisk that says "Feels like 38." IN MAY. Ridiculous. So now I'm forced to watch my little tomato plants shiver in the wind, my squash and zucchini plants shrivel into unrecognizable forms, and our new grass look even yellower than usual. It's all sorts of frustrating. I looked at our old pictures, and we were already picking squash on May 14, 2012. We're at least a month away from squash at this point, so this is a funky garden year. Who knows when we might see vegetation at this point. Everything is growing in spite of our bi-polar weather system, so I guess that's really all we can ask for. 

I think that's everything I felt obligated to share today. In terms of symptoms, my feet are really battling me in terms of swelling. I spend our evenings with my feet up and it helps significantly, but it's hard to get out and walk when my feet are so beet red and funny feeling. Walking helps more than anything though, so while our walks are brief, we're pretty good about going. My back has hurt more this week than it has in the last month or so, but it's nothing severe. My rubber band ligaments are feeling the stretch this week, so I try not to move or walk too quickly, otherwise I find myself to be severely uncomfortable for a long period of time. My hair is starting to get super annoying. I initially loved my lush locks, but now it's just getting toooooo thick, and I find myself staring into the mirror and saying "I...KILLED...MUFASA!!!" after I've battled my hair and it still looks like a lion mane. I've developed the "chronically tired" look to my face, so even when I smile my prettiest for a picture, my eyes give me away. I have found the secret to combating charley horses, so I haven't had one in quite some time. *fingers crossed* And I've actually slept better this week than I have in about a month, so I'm thankful for that. It's been a pretty simple week. People ask me how I am, and I say "Pregnant." Strangers try to touch my stomach and I politely sidestep their grabbing. I haven't had to use force yet, so thankfully people will continue to pick up on my hints as we finish out these last eleven weeks. ELEVEN weeks. Unfathomable. 2 1/2 months sounds too long, but eleven weeks sounds so imminent and short. 77 days sounds even crazier. 

That's it! This blog was kind of all over the place, but my brain is kind of all over the place lately. I'm getting excited to quit working and spend my days with my feet reclined while I plot menus and recipes while we wait for this baby to join us. I'm hoping the glucose mess comes back clean so that I can chow down on fruit without pondering the sugar in the fruit. I'll be 8 months pregnant in prime cantaloupe season, so you have NO idea how excited I am about that. Watermelon too, at that. Basically, even though it'll be a thousand degrees outside, I'm pregnant in the BEST weather for smoothies and fruit based ice creams. It's one of the only things I'm excited about.Unless the weather keeps it's nonsense up, then I'll probably be making cocoa and re-reading Narnia while I long for summer temperatures. Dramatic, maybe... but apparently possible. Here's the Bump as we embark on our last week in the twenty-somethings!