I Didn't Miss Her One Bit

She's baaaaaaaaaaaaaack.

AF.

Over four months after the birth of my little guy, AF showed up. Completely unexpected (but, really, when should have I expected her?). I did a triple-take this morning in the bathroom when I realized what was going on.

To be honest, I am a bit happy she's here. I've been wondering what the heck is going on... my doctor said it would take a few months for her to show up again, but I was thinking more like 2 months after delivering. Also, I am going to start tracking again, hoping that in a couple of "regular" cycles, we'll be back on the TTC wagon again.

But, overall, I didn't miss her at all. The cramps, bloating, tampons... it all came back to me, and after my one minute of happiness faded away, I realized that I get to deal with her for the next week or so.

{Sigh.}

Welcome back, AF, welcome back.

Tears

I don't remember being as sad as I was this morning in a long time. Not throughout IF, not with my miscarriage, never through pregnancy, labor, birth, or post-partum.

I cried myself to sleep last night, woke up crying, cried getting ready, and cried in the car bringing Max to daycare.

Seriously, I could not get a grip, and I couldn't figure out why. I mean, sure, it isn't fun to leave your kid, but I knew he would be safe, cuddled, and protected. Were hormones finally rearing their ugly head? Who knows.

It was all I could do to hand him over to Susan this morning. She started asking me questions - how much has he eaten already this morning, have you changed his diaper recently, do you think he will nap this morning - and all of a sudden I got so choked up that I couldn't breathe, let alone answer her questions. Thankfully, Mr. D did drop-off with me this morning and could answer her questions as tears streamed down my face.

I cried all the way in to work, and finally was able to get a grip about 2 miles from my office. As soon as I stepped in to work, I was fine. It was the weirdest thing. Did I think about Max today? All the time. But I wasn't sad necessarily - just wondering what he was doing and if he was having fun. A few co-workers stopped by today, knowing that today would be tough.

I didn't get a ton done at work today, although I did have a pretty good meeting with my boss where she was impressed with my organization and updates. Guess I put my game face on.

I left work around 3:00 and picked up Max around 3:45. He had a great day and knew me the second I walked in the door. About 1,000 pounds lifted from my shoulders as he flashed me the biggest smile I've seen in awhile.

No more tears :)

But She's Not Me

This may make some of my blog followers roll their eyes and think, "Oh, Mrs. D, come on now... get over it."

But, tomorrow is a big day for me. For us. For our family.

Max starts daycare.

I have not been emotional at all through my pregnancy, birth, post-birth... nothing. No tears about anything. But daycare? Waterworks. I've cried about it since I started realizing it was real... my baby goes to this woman's home (who is completely lovely and I know will be wonderful for our little man) and he spends his whole day with her and 7 other little kids.

I am sitting here, bawling as I type.

Do I regret going back to work? Not in the least. I love my work so, so much, and not only do I selfishly want to have a career outside of being a mom, but I know it makes me a better mother (plus, who am I kidding... my salary keeps me working).

But, do I want my son to go to a foreign daycare every weekday, which I know he'll get to know and love but until then, he'll probably think I dropped him at a stranger's home with lots of crazy kids?

No. It makes me cry harder to think about it.

The worst thing is thinking that he might forget who I am. I know, realistically, that he'll remember me as soon as I say, "Hey, buddy!" when I pick him up, but still... will he wonder why his parents dropped him off in an environment that isn't his own?

I know our daycare provider will do a wonderful job cuddling, feeding, changing, and playing with him. Her name is Susan and she has had an in-home daycare for the past 33 years. She is the picture of a cuddly, warm grandma in her mid-to-late 50's. Super sweet, kind, and can't wait to snuggle Max.

But she - our daycare provider - isn't me. She doesn't know that when he gets a little fussy, whispering "I love you buddy" over and over in his ear will calm him down. She doesn't know that he doesn't like when his feet get cold. She doesn't know that he likes to hold on to a pointer finger, but not a thumb. She doesn't know that he needs to be held and rocked while singing the special "I Love You" song Daddy made up 5 times before he can lie down to sleep.

She can get instructed about all of these things, but she'll never do it the way I do.

And that is what makes me sad... he won't be with me.

Send me some prayers tomorrow... it's going to be a long, tearful day.

Thankfulness

I feel like I have been absent from my blog for awhile, and I promise to be a better blogger next month. Time is zooming by... Max is getting so big, I went back to work (more on that in another post), and every day is a detailed plan of how things need to get executed to keep everything moving in our household.

It would feel like a miss to me if I didn't post today... Thanksgiving. Mr. D is upstairs feeding Max, I am still in my pajamas, and have a few Thanksgiving dishes yet to make, so I'll make it quick...

THANKS can't really sum up the true, heartfelt gratitude I have for everything in my life. Our marriage, our lives, our careers, our new house, our health, our spirits, our families, our friends... my cup is overflowing with joy and I have so, so much to give thanks for this year.

Oh, and that little boy named Max? You better believe we are giving thanks for him this year. He is an absolute blessing, and for the journey, the sacrifices, the heartache, my pregnancy, and eventually... our healthy, happy, beautiful son, we are forever thankful.

Happy Thanksgiving to all of my blogging friends... I am also so thankful for YOU. I never thought I could grow close to a group of women who I don't even know, but you all are my soul sisters. I keep thinking, "maybe some day I'll get to travel to Florida/Kentucky/Nebraska (insert your state here) and get to meet ____!"

Blessings to you and your families!

XOXO
Mrs. D

Ready to Share

It's no surprise to anyone following my blog that I seem to be "vague."

I go by the alias of "Mrs. D," my husband is "Mr. D," and I've never posted pictures of our family.

I'm not 100% sure why, to be honest. Without giving it a lot of thought, I started this blog while I was in my secretive place of TTC... not telling anyone, really, in real life, what we were struggling with.

And, somehow, over time, that changed. I wanted to be able to share, but for some reason, it felt weird to do so on this blog. I went on for so long without posting private details about our life that it all of a sudden felt even more awkward to post pictures, names, and details about our lives. So I chose to stay private.

This blog will continue... it has become part of me. But I think I will continue to keep it semi-private, kind of how our TTC struggles have been. I am still part of the community, especially as we start thinking about TTC #2 within the next few months, and I feel a sense of wanting to honor the way in which I started this blog... as a place to share but not have to "answer" to anyone who might know me. I know this all might sound weird, but for someone who knows me in real life, I think you'll not only understand, but also totally get where I am coming from.

So - the reason for my post: if you are interested in learning more about me and our family (totally non-IF related), please leave me a comment and I'll send you my new blog address. NOTE: It's not a replacement blog, just my second one.

Hope everyone is having a good week... winter is officially on its way here in MN!

XOXO
Mrs. D

Dear Life, Please Slow Down

It's going by too fast. By that, I mean everything... Max continues to grow before our eyes (how can he be 11 weeks already?!), my maternity leave is slowly coming to an end, summer is officially over here in MN, and the holidays are right around the corner.

I get a little anxious when I get caught up in time, the lack there of, and how it seems to fly by sometimes.

However fast time may be flying around here, life is good. No, life is great. I am starting to get a bit anxious over my transition back to work, which is scheduled to happen on November 15. I was promoted to a bigger leadership role while I was on maternity leave, and I am thrilled to be going back to a bigger, even more exciting job with a team to lead. Max will be starting daycare on December 5. Between November 15 and December 5, Mr. D has a week of paternity leave, I will be off a few days, and our mothers are watching him a couple days. I am so happy that I will have a couple of weeks back at work to transition back in before Max goes to daycare. I think going back and starting him in daycare all at once would be too much for me. Not only am I excited to get back to work because I love my company and job, but I am excited for Max. He needs interaction with other kids in an environment that I can't provide him. I know it will be so good for him to be with other kids, watch them play, and be stimulated by others. Of course, it breaks my heart that I have to leave him, but I am praying that the transition works for our family.

I can not believe it is almost the holidays. I was at Ann Taylor Loft on Monday, picking up a few items to freshen up my work wardrobe (it's been awhile since I wore non-maternity clothes!), and "All I Want for Christmas is You" was playing. Holy crap... I am NOT ready for jingle bell tunes yet.

I hope everyone who reads my blog is well. I seem to have lost a few followers over the past few months, and I truly thank those still staying connected to my blog. It's nice to have blog buddies :) I think about everyone and their unique journeys often!

All Clear

I had my post-delivery check up with my OB.

All good. My C-section incision looks good, my weight is 8 pounds lighter than pre-pregnancy, I am in good spirits, and my uterus is back down to its pre-pregnancy size. I can exercise (even though I was way ahead of the game - without the Dr.'s okay... oops - and already back to running), get massages, have sex, and do whatever. The only caution my OB gave me is to take it easy on sit-ups, given my incision needing more time to heal internally. No problem... who likes sit-ups, anyway?!

She then asked me what kind of birth control she could prescribe. It felt SO WEIRD for her to ask me that, after the years and years of medicine I took and discussions about how to make pregnancy happen, not prevent it.

I chose none. If I get pregnant again now, great. We aren't exactly trying (meaning, not tracking or anything... I haven't even gotten my period yet), but if it happens, it happens. We are totally cool with that. We will officially start trying again next spring/summer. It would be awesome if, by Max's first birthday, I am pregnant again. Given how long it took us to get pregnant the first time, who's to say that the second time won't be equally, if not even more, hard? Plus, if we start next summer and it takes us another couple years... well, at least we were actively trying and not sitting back waiting. I've always wanted two kids, close together in age. I have a younger sister, and there are 6 years between us. We never were close, because we were raised almost like only children. She was still in elementary school when I started high school. We have never been close because of our distance in age. So, I've always known I want kids close together... 1 or 2 years, if possible. But given that I now know that infertility was - and is - a part of our lives, we will start trying sooner than later, knowing that it's certainly not a sure thing.

Otherwise, life is good. Max grows more and more everyday, as does our love for him. He turned two months this week... crazy. We are bringing him to the pumpkin patch on Saturday - Mr. D's birthday - I'll post pics afterwards :)

Hope everyone's week is going well! Enjoy this beautiful autumn day.

XOXO

Mrs. D

Once an IFer, Always an IFer

I've said it before, and will say it again: once an IFer, always an IFer. Even if a woman's (or man's) dreams of conceiving, carrying, and delivering a live baby come true, IF just never leaves your soul once you've experienced it... whatever your journey may be. You don't "graduate" to non-IF status, in my opinion. You're part of the lifelong club. Personally, I am okay with - and even grateful for - that. IF has made me humble, more sensitive, more thankful, and more supportive.

Today, Max and I went to the Pool & Spa store. We have a hot tub, and have been to this store multiple times over the summer to purchase hot tub chemicals. The store manager is super nice and has been extremely helpful. We always ask for her when we go in.

So, I walk in with Max, and there she is at the front counter. I was so happy to see her (instead of looking like a stalker and asking only for her to help me). She, however... not sure if she was happy to see me. She said, "Oh, hi - it looks like you have a baby now and not a baby bump." It wasn't a rude tone, but one that sounded... different. Hollow. Painful. Sad.

I would put my paycheck on the fact that she's an IFer. I could tell how she was looking at Max and how I could feel her heart hurt. She said all of the things someone should ask if they know you, but not really... I love his name, he's beautiful, life must be different but in a good way, etc.

But I could tell. It was painful, fake conversation. In one way, I wanted nothing else but to get the hell out of that store. But I stayed... and I answered all of her questions and thanked her for her sweet comments about my little boy. Our voices were really low, and it took all I have not to say something lame, like, "You know, it took a long time for us to welcome this little guy." But I let it be. Because I know that if the roles were reversed (which, trust me, I've been in similar situations time and time again), I wouldn't want anyone to say anything to make me look emotional on the outside when I was breaking inside.

If anyone is reading this who is in the trenches of IF, please know that my opinion is that we all never really leave IF Land. Once a baby comes along, it's not like you're "cured" or get to "graduate." We all belong to an amazing community where support is a necessity, no matter what stage you're in. It makes me happy to know that we all belong in one way or another.

Leaving Town

I've been a bad blogger and bad blog friend... I've been checking in on blogs but not commenting this week. It's been a busy one for us! I promise to get back in the swing of commenting and posting updates next week. Overall, everything is going awesome. Max is doing really well and continues to get cuter and more fun every day.

We're off to Brainerd, MN - a sweet, quaint resort town where my parents rented a cabin for the week. Mr. D, Max, and I are heading out this afternoon and will be back on Sunday... it will be Max's first time sleeping somewhere other than our house!

The weather here in MN is GORGEOUS... below are a couple of pictures of my front yard view. We have a ton of trees in our yard and neighborhood, and it's so beautiful this time of year to watch the seasons change. If you ever have the chance to visit MN, please do... it truly is such a beautiful place. And, of course, let me know if and when you travel to MN :)

My parents' cabin is on a large lake, and although it may be a bit chilly, I am going to attempt waterskiing (first time since last summer). Sometimes at this point in the season, the air is a bit chilly but the lake water is still warm from the summer... we'll see :) It's been about 80 degrees this week here in the city, but it's likely at least 10 degrees cooler up north in Brainerd.

Have a great weekend and I promise to be in touch next week!

XOXO

Mrs. D

Trees in the front yard going up our driveway:

View of the pond across the street:

Max, chillin' in his diaper on our bed:

Single Parenting

During the week, from the hours of 8 a.m. to 6 p.m., I am alone with my little man. At some point in the evening, Mr. D gets home from work and we help one another... with Max, with getting dinner ready, dishes washed, laundry done, etc. We also went into this whole parenthood experience supporting each other and wanting our son more than anything... knowing that this would be a two-person effort.

Mr. D is away for the afternoon, evening, and night at a bachelor party for his good friend, leaving me alone until tomorrow morning. This is the first time I will be alone with Little Man over night, and I am a bit nervous. And then I realized... there are parents who parent alone 24/7. Wow. I don't know how they do it.

Today, I am giving a shout-out to all of the moms and dads who parent alone. Whether by choice or not, I have a whole new respect and appreciation for those who raise children by themselves.

Best Night Ever

Max slept through the night! Oh, my gosh, did it feel good to sleep, uninterrupted, all night. Of course, I woke up several times to check to make sure he was still breathing, but he never woke up to eat.

Fell asleep at 9:30 p.m and woke up at 6:15 a.m.

Let's hope this is a pattern, not just a fluke :) He is requiring more milk during feedings and less times to be fed, so hopefully we are all in for some more night-time sleep!

I read so many things about the "magical 6-week mark" of a baby's life - how they are awake more, more content, smiley, sleep longer, lose some of their baby acne, and are overall just more calm. IT IS SO TRUE... literally, the day before Max turned 6 weeks, I started noticing changes, and now, one day after his 6-week birthday, it's like he is a different kid. I love it!

To Freeze or Not to Freeze... That is the Question

Last night, a friend and co-worker of mine came over to meet Max. Her name is Katie, and I've known her for about 4 years. Katie is very independent, very smart, motivated, nice-looking... very type-A personality. She is 35 years old, has a great career and makes well over $100K, never been married, and wants nothing more than to have a wonderful relationship that turns into a marriage. She is very active in the dating scene and keeps wondering when she will meet Mr. Right.

During my 4 years of knowing Katie, she has made it pretty clear that she doesn't want kids. Just not her thing... she is career-focused, likes having freedom, not sure she wants to be a mother, etc. She's been dating guys on-and-off for as long as I've known her using online sites, and she's kept her profile to show that she's not interested in having kids.

So, last night, she tells Mr. D and me that she is considering going to a fertility clinic to have her eggs collected and stored. When I asked her about the change of heart (because, I mean, come on... going from not wanting kids at ALL to now working with a fertility clinic?!), she said that she wants to do this to at least have the option to have kids if she meets the right guy, gets married, and they decide they want children. Plus, she mentioned that 35-year old eggs are "younger" and "better" than if she were to try to achieve pregnancy on her own later in life.

I was in complete shock. Not only is this coming from the friend who only dates guys who know that kids are not in her future, but she nonchalantly mentioned that the fee is $5K to retrieve the eggs and $60/month to store them (and then another $5K or so to put them back)... not a big hit on her pocketbook, I guess. So then I asked what she would do with the eggs if she determined she didn't have a need to use them, and she mentioned donating them.

So, here's my question... and I apologize if it offends anyone reading my blog. Why would you freeze eggs if you're not 10000% sure (yes, I know I typed 10000 instead of 100) that you want kids? I think donating them is fantastic if you aren't going to use them, but I would assume that the purpose of freezing them in the first place is for your own use?

And here's my even bigger question: would you freeze eggs just in case you met the right guy who definitely wants kids? Even if you never really wanted kids?

I know it's really none of my business what Katie does and I will support her in anything she decides, but this just caught me off-guard. Maybe it's because I knew that I wanted kids more than anything, and investigated all of the avenues to do so. She seems to be taking it the opposite way and investigating all avenues and then making the decision of if she wants kids.

I guess there's multiple ways to look at people's fertility journeys.

Healthy Little Man and Pictures

Max was in for his one-month appointment yesterday! Here are his* stats:

(*May I just pause here and mention that it is surreal to be posting Max's information, not my infertility or pregnancy-related info... HCG levels, baby's heartrate, protein levels, etc...)

Weight: 10 pounds, 9.5 ounces = 75 percentile

Length: 22 inches = 75 percentile

Head Circumference: 15 inches = 95 percentile

We have a strong, healthy, growing boy!

I am trying my hardest not to resort to the feelings of "where did the time go" or "I wish he was still only a couple days old" and making sure to live in the present and feel blessed for what we have today instead of dwelling in yesterday. The truth is, Max gets better and better as the days go by, and I need to remind myself that this isn't a dream. He is my son, and he will be here, God-willing, with me for the rest of my life. I get to be this little boy's mother. And although he was smaller, more newborn-ish yesterday than he is today, he will be here tomorrow, will need me to be his Mom, and will still be part of our lives. I don't know if any of that makes sense, but it does to me, and I needed to type it out to feel like I've communicated it somehow.

Here's a few pics of my little man...

Kind if a funny expression on his face, but I love it:

Max LOVES taking naps in his swing:

Love this picture (minus the baby acne):

Happy One Month, Maxwell!

One month ago, my life changed forever and my little man was born. Ahhhh! Time flies.

We've been having SO much fun. One month ago, as I type, the doctors were starting to hint at a C-section after I was exhausted from hours upon hours of labor. Feels like just yesterday in some respects. On the other hand, it feels like this little guy has been in our lives for months now. We learn something new about him every day.

Here's what we've been up to:

- Max developed a protein allergy a couple of weeks ago, which has sent us on numerous paths to figure out the best food for him. I stopped breastfeeding. Two things contributed to this: one, I had a breast reduction about 10 years ago and wasn't sure if I'd ever get any milk in... turns out, I barely got any; and two, if I was to continue, the pediatrician wanted me to cut out dairy and meat... that was enough to make me quit. Not that I wouldn't have done anything necessary for him, but I was literally getting about 1.5 ounces combined from both breasts when I pumped (which was ALL THE TIME)... not worth it. My pediatrician agreed. So, now we're trying a protein-sensitive formula, which seems to be helping. Time will tell.

- I returned to my love of running. I strapped on my Nikes exactly two weeks after Max was born, and reunited with the road after 9 months. It felt AMAZING. I actually shed some tears after my first run (might have been hormones). I ran about 3 miles this afternoon and keep thinking about a 5K that is going on in our neighborhood next weekend... pretty sure I need to run it :)

- Trying to stay busy while on leave. Maternity leave always sounded really glamorous to me... 12 weeks (or more, in my case) of paid time off work... what could be better?! And, don't get me wrong... it is wonderful bonding time. But I've struggled a bit with normally being so productive and value-added at work (truly, not trying to toot my own horn here) and now transitioning to a different kind of "staying busy". My days are consumed with laundry, feeding, washing bottles, cuddling... all fun stuff, but totally different than my days of wearing suits and stilettos to work and leading meetings in Corporate America all day. So, I've tried to stay busy... joined a Mommy-and-Me class, going to Target (multiple times!), and running errands.

I'll post pics in the next couple of days... need to get to my computer downstairs so that I can download some off our camera!

Happy weekend, everyone!

... And, Happy One-Month Birthday, my little Max... words can't express how much you were wanted and are loved :)

Things that Surprise Me

Although I prepared my whole life for the experience of motherhood, there are several things that I have surprised me.

Overall, I learned that I over-prepared, which isn't such a bad thing. Take, for example, my stock pile of diapers:

Yup, I have a 6-month supply. I received some very good advice from our financial planner: once you have enough storage (which, for us, meant April, since that's when we closed on our house), buy a box of diapers every time you make a weekly shopping trip to Target. That way, you'll stock up little by little and can just buy diapers here and there while still keeping a decent supply.

We also bought way too many things that seemed like something we would use. A few examples: wipe warmer, travel bottle warmer, Mothers Milk tea, SwaddleMes (my kid only likes SleepSacks), and the list goes on. But I am glad we over-prepared instead of under-prepared... there's really not much that we've had to go purchase.

But here are some things that have truly surprised me:

About Max:

• He really does look like my husband and me. It's crazy to see your own flesh and blood that was created. Sometimes I just stare at him and realize how much of a miracle he is.
• The kid eats. A LOT. I didn't realize how much and how often babies eat. My whole schedule revolves around when the next feeding time is.

About Mr. D:

• He wanted to be a father just as much as I've wanted to be a mother. Of course, I knew that we both wanted kids, and that our journey with infertility affected us both in different ways, but I never really sat back and realized how much he wanted to be a Dad.
• He loves me more than I imagined. The hugs, kisses, and snuggles in bed I've received since having Max feel much different now... it's almost like he is thanking me for our son every time he is around me.

About Me:

• Motherhood fits me. Not that I ever really doubted that it would, but I am surprised at how instinctual and motherly I've become in three short weeks.
• Although motherhood fits me, I am looking forward to going back to work when the time comes. Not that I am not enjoying time with my son, but I know that I would not be a good stay-at-home-person. I value my career, and Max will value his time interacting with other children at daycare.
• I loved being pregnant. I lost all of the pregnancy weight I gained (about 20 lbs.) within 10 days of Max's birth, and now weigh less than pre-pregnancy (although I am now working off some of the lovely, chubby-looking skin left over...). I loved how I treated my body, how I ate, how I exercised, how I carried my baby... everything.
• I am dead-set on working out and getting my old stomach back. I started running on Max's 2 week birthday (only a couple miles), and have been running every-other day since. I need to get rid of the little bit that's left.
• Although I conceived, carried a healthy baby, and delivered our son, I still consider myself to be on this journey of IF. It kind of irritates me when people who have conceived or had a baby say things to the effect of, "thinking of you who are still struggling" or "I remember dealing with IF... just keep hanging in there." In my opinion, once an IFer, always an IFer. We are all bonded for life, and it seems funny to me that some people who think they used to be IFers feel as though they have "graduated."

The biggest thing that surprises me is how much I want another kid. Max isn't even a month old yet, and I am already thinking about when to pull out my ovulation tester. It's weird. I always have wanted kids to be close together in age (maybe 2-3 years or so), but it's surprising to me how much I have thought about how and when to try for #2. Even more surprising? Mr. D is totally onboard and is thinking about it, too. Given how much time it took us to get Max, I think we are both thinking that we should start at the earliest point we would be okay with. Maybe next summer... who knows.

Hope everyone is having a good weekend :)

Max's Birth Story: Part Two

They kept saying that I was progressing really slowly, but that the baby would be born anytime... certainly sometime that morning or early afternoon. But that didn't exactly happen...

I literally slept pretty much all day from 8:30 a.m. until about 8:00 p.m. The times I would wake up is when a nurse or doctor would come in to check on me and need to talk to me, when the medicine would start to taper off, and I could feel contractions again, or I wanted to talk to Mr. D. The doctor came in to break my water at about 10:00 a.m - what a weird sensation. Felt like I took the biggest pee ever all over the bed. TMI alert... Throughout the day, I also bled a lot... the nurses kept saying it was bloody show. I guess I thought that bloody show was just a little blood, but if what I saw was truly bloody show, there was a LOT.

We took some pictures of us in the labor room, but because I looked like absolute hell (pale, no makeup, baggy eyes, drained face, etc.), I'll refrain from posting :) I will, however, now that Max is here, post a family pic soon. I have never posted a picture of myself on my blog (for a long time, I intended to remain anonymous), but feel that now is the right time to share pics of our family. Soon to come :)

Anyway, throughout the day, I was checked numerous times, and little progress was being made. Around 11:00, my doctor finally explained it to me: during labor, the cervix is supposed to open (duh). Two things were happening to mine: first, mine was getting harder and thicker (the opposite of effacing). He had seen this before, but wasn't sure why mine was doing this. In addition to my cervix doing the opposite of what it was supposed to, with every contraction, Max's head was bumping up against my cervix instead of gradually applying more and more pressure to open it. This was resulting in my cervix becoming swollen, and poor Max tilting his head and trying other positions for his head to come out. Eventually, his forehead/eyebrows/eyes were the parts of his head that were trying to come first, when it is best when the top of their head comes first.

Throughout the day, I SLOWLY progressed off and on. As long as I was technically progressing (meaning, dilating further), they wanted me to continue laboring. Every time a nurse or doctor would come in, they would say something to the effect of, "Oh, this won't be long... soon, you'll start dilating really quickly and the baby will be here. Just you wait!"

But by 8:00 p.m. - almost 24 hours after my contractions started - we were losing faith that it would really happen naturally. 8:00 is the last time I remember the nurse saying, "you've progressed" - and at that point, I had made it to 5 centimeters. At 9:00, the doctor came in, checked me, and said that I was still at a 5 and that it was time to start talking about a C-section.

I was really sad. I had just spent almost a whole day in painful labor only to result with a C-section. But there was really no choice. Had there been anyway that I could have delivered naturally, I would have held on hope and continued trying, but my cervix was starting to close. Since my water had been broken, we had a few hours to keep trying, but the doctors said that there was really no way that the baby would come out of a closed cervix.

So, I was given until 9:45 to continue laboring to see if any additional progress could be made. And at 9:45, when I was still at a 5 and my cervix was even more swollen, the decision was made by the doctors, Mr. D and me to go ahead with a C-section.

Within 10 minutes, my doctor, about 7 nurses, 2 anesthesiologists and I were in the operating room. I was given numbing medication and prepped for surgery. They kept Mr. D out of the operating room until I was cut open (not exactly sure why - I am sure there's a policy or something about this), and I kept asking for Mr. D. He finally came into the room in scrubs with the biggest, excited grin on his face. Up until this point, I was exhausted and kind of sad about needing a C-section, but seeing Mr. D so, so excited at that moment completely re-energized me.

Mr. D stayed at my head with the camera and talked to me. I remember him saying how he was so proud of me and how excited he was to finally be a Daddy.

And then I heard, "Okay, you're going to feel a little pressure..." (up until this point, I hadn't felt a thing), which just felt like a little rocking motion in my belly. They told Mr. D to stand up and watch them take our baby out of me. I watched him as he looked over the blanket covering my stomach, and smiled as I saw his expression of complete amazement.

And then I heard the most wonderful sound I have ever heard in my life.

Screaming. It was Max. He was alive, I was a Mom, and he was here.

Mr. D gave me a kiss before a nurse quickly rushed him off to the scale to take pictures of Max being weighed. As they were pulling him out of me, I heard a couple nurses say something to the effect of, "Wow, that's a big baby!" and "He's a healthy, big boy!" I thought for sure that meant he was a 12-pounder. But I soon heard the nurse call out: "Time of delivery: 10:12 p.m. Weight: 8 pounds, 5 ounces. Length: 21.6 inches. Baby Boy."

And then the waterworks started. I cried the whole time as I was being stitched back together. Max cried, too, which made me cry harder... complete happiness. I didn't see him for about 5 minutes as the nurses performed the AP.GAR tests, and I kept asking Mr. D questions from across the room: Does he have all 10 fingers and toes? Does he look healthy? Did he open his eyes? Is he breathing?

Finally, Mr. D came over to my head, and the nurse untied my left arm so that I could put my arm around my son. As soon as I put my arm around him, I stopped crying, and so did Max. We locked eyes and just stared at each other. It was probably the most surreal, amazing moment of my life... this little baby was just pulled out of me, and the second we laid eyes on each other, it's like he knew exactly who I was. Mr. D and I confirmed our name choice of Maxwell within about 5 seconds... we always said we wanted to wait to "see what he looked like," but Max was always our first pick. And after looking at him, we both knew this little guy was a Maxwell.

He was a perfect, healthy little baby boy... just what we had prayed for.

Max's Birth Story: Part One

Although there are a million other things I need to do right now (Max's laundry, our laundry, cuddle with my little guy, dishes.... etc.), I owe it to my blog, my followers, myself, Max, and anyone who's interested to fully document this amazing experience. As I take a sip of my red wine (oh, yeah... it's amazing - and the only thing I really craved during pregnancy), I will begin...

On Tuesday, August 16, I was irritated. I was 40 weeks, 3 days pregnant, still feeling amazing, and seriously doubting if I was ever going to go into labor. It's amazing what was going through my mind... I was truly starting to question if I was even pregnant, or if this was just a huge practical joke and I had just put on some weight and appeared to be pregnant. That Monday, my boss had continued to be the best ever, and told me to have my cell phone close, but don't worry about logging in to work or doing anything work-related. So, I spent most of Tuesday watching The People's Court, Maury Povich, and cuddling with my dog.

Mr. D arrived home from work around 5:00, and we started dinner. Tacos. Never thought tacos would be my last dinner, but it ended up to be. For some reason, when we were doing our weekly grocery shopping the past Sunday, they were out of our regular taco seasoning (we pre-plan all of our dinners for the week... I know, it's a bit OCD, but it keeps us organized). So, we bought a new taco seasoning that ended up being SUPER spicy - which I didn't mind, but did it contribute to putting me into labor? Not sure. Anyway, around 6:30, a huge storm rolled through the Twin Cities area. Lots of rain, some thunder, lightning, and dark clouds. It passed within an hour or so. On top of the spicy tacos, could the storm have started labor? Again, not sure, but looking back, both serve as old wives' tales things that trigger contractions.

At 8:30 p.m, I felt a contraction. I was laying on one couch, and Mr. D on the other as we watched Teen Mom on MTV (yeah, I know... lame, but I am addicted). It was not my first contraction ever, so I really didn't pay a ton of attention to it - sure, it kind of hurt, but I had Braxton Hicks contractions since 20 weeks and real contractions since about week 34, so it wasn't anything out of the ordinary. By 9:00, I had consistently had contractions 4-7 minutes apart, lasting about a minute. Mr. D and I decided to go to bed and watch TV. I continued to have contractions until 11:00 - again, consistently timed and one minute in length. Mr. D, as sweet as he is, had to get up for work in the morning, so fell asleep around 11:00. Both of us were completely unfazed at this point... I truly thought they would go away and we'd be sticking with the original plan of induction on Sunday, August 21. Funny enough, it never really crossed my mind up until that point that I could really be in labor.

I tried to fall asleep around 11:30, but woke up every 5 minutes with a contraction. By midnight, they were more and more painful. I could always breathe through them, but my stomach was as hard as a rock and crunching into a ball laying in bed seemed to be the best position to get through the pain. I woke up Mr. D at 12:30, thinking, this has GOT to be labor. We called Labor & Delivery, and the kind nurse told me we should pack up and go into the hospital, especially since at this point I was overdue. I can't believe I did this, but I actually told her that I was going to wait awhile to see if the contractions would go away. I remember the nurse saying, "Are you SURE? From what you are telling me, you need to go in to the hospital because you are in labor." But I think I was in denial... I truly thought the contractions would stop, and I had a huge fear of going to the hospital and being told to go back home. I thanked her for her help and told her I would call her back if I decided to go in. Mr. D fell back asleep, and I continued laboring for the next 45 minutes (at this point, I was walking around the house, hunched over every time a contraction would start). I finally woke him up at 1:15 and said, "It's time."

Mr. D shot out of bed quicker than I had ever seen and started packing the last-minute items into our hospital bags. In the meantime, I showered, knowing that I wanted to do my hair and shave my legs, armpits, and you-know-where before the big show began. I can't believe I showered and shaved without falling over in pain, but somehow I did. I even got out of the shower, blow-dried my hair, and straightened it (I have pretty thick, long hair, and the drying-and-straightening process takes about 30 minutes). As I was using my blow dryer and straightener, I had to put each down about every 3 minutes so that I could walk fast back to my bed and sit down as a contraction would start. It felt like a TON of pressure and I felt like the baby was coming out as the contractions continued. I wasn't crying, but the pain was pretty bad... I am surprised I never shed tears with the amount of pain I was experiencing.

After my hair was as good as it was going to be and Mr. D had everything in the car, it was time to go. Except... our dog. The plan was for my in-laws, who live about 15 minutes away, to come to our house and get him whenever it was time. But, since it didn't seem that I was going into labor before our scheduled induction, they had went out of town to Wisconsin for one night. So - we called my parents, who live about 5 miles from the hospital and asked them to please meet us there.

The ride to the hospital was the longest ever. We left our house at about 2:00 a.m., and I contracted once every 3-4 minutes. And they were PAINFUL. My dog was sitting on Mr. D's lap and just staring at me... he totally knew I was in pain and didn't know how to make me feel better. We called Labor & Delivery again and told them that we were on our way. My Dad met us at the hospital, gave me a kiss on the cheek, and took our dog. Mr. D and I went through the Emergency entrance and went up to the Family Birth Center. We were escorted into an exam room and I was placed on two monitors - one to monitor baby's heartbeat (which, thankfully, throughout the entire labor and delivery process remained completely normal) and one to monitor my contractions.

I was given a cervical exam at about 2:30 a.m. I was thinking I was at LEAST 3 centimeters dilated, after all of the laboring I did at home. But, no... I wasn't dilated at ALL. I was so pissed at my body. There was NO WAY I could be in this much pain and have this many consistent contractions and NOT be in labor. The nurse had me stay on the exam table for an hour and continue to contract. She thought that I would progress and they would be able to admit me. Their "policy" is to only admit women who are at least 2, if not 3, centimeters dilated. At 3:30, when I was checked again and still at a ZERO, I just about started crying. The nurse could tell that I was definitely in labor, but not sure why I wasn't progressing. So, I was told to walk around the Family Birth Center for the next HOUR and come back to get checked again.

Mr. D and I slowly walked the most painful walk and longest period of my life... I was contracting every 2-4 minutes and they were STRONG. I almost threw up at least 10 times, and gripped the side of the wall every time I had a contraction. Poor Mr. D didn't know what to do, but was such a trooper... rubbing my back and literally holding me up when I thought I was going to collapse. As we were walking, I felt a wet glob fall down my right leg... totally thought it was KY jelly they used during the exam, but nope... it was my mucous plug. I thought I was going to die from the pain and thought for SURE I had progressed.

Around 4:45 a.m., the nurse checked me again and I was still not dilated at all. She actually asked if I had any procedures done to my cervix to hold it together, as she couldn't quite believe that nothing had happened either.

At 5:30, a Doctor from the group's practice came in. She checked me, and I had FINALLY dilated to a ONE (I wanted to scream, 'WTF?? ARE YOU SERIOUS???'). The decision was made to admit me... THANK THE LORD. The Doctor thought for sure that I would just progress from here and the baby would be here in no time.

I was officially laying in a labor room at 6:00 a.m. and was asked if I would like pain medication. "Hell, yes," I said, "Give me anything you got."

I was given an IV and some mild pain medicine right away, and the nurses said that, in looking at how quickly I was contracting (which usually means that I would be progressing quickly), they would recommend an Epidural sooner than later. So, at 8:05 a.m., I was given an Epidural. And it did not hurt a BIT... I had heard so many horror stories, but it seriously felt like a mosquito bite. Within 10 minutes, I was floating on cloud nine... no pain whatsoever. It was lovely. I couldn't feel anything from my belly button down to my toes, but I could care less. The medicines did make me sleepy, though, and I slept for the most of the day. I kept getting woken up by Doctors and Nurses who would come in to check me, but I was exhausted and couldn't have cared less.

They kept saying that I was progressing really slowly, but that the baby would be born anytime... certainly sometime that morning or early afternoon. But that didn't exactly happen...

Part Two of Max's Birth Story coming in the next couple days!

A Couple Pictures...

Mr. D and Max are snuggled, sleeping skin-to-skin on the couch, so I thought I would take the opportunity to post a couple pictures...

Here is Max when he was about 12 hours old. I love this hat!

Max, asleep on my arm, at 4 days old - about 2 hours after we got home from the hospital.

Things are going REALLY well... we love Max to pieces and are loving our new roles as parents. It certainly is challenging, though - one of us is constantly doing something baby-related... feeding, changing, burping, cuddling, making bottles, doing another load of his laundry (holy cow - I was totally unprepared for how much laundry a baby goes through! We are averaging 2-3 loads a day). I seriously have NO idea how single parents or teenage mothers do it... Mr. D and I are loving it, but even as well-prepared as we were to have this little guy join us, it's a ton of work. It's so incredibly worth it :)

Max had his newborn pictures done today by a family friend and amazingly talented, well-known baby photographer in the Twin Cities. I will post some once we get access to the online gallery - should be a week or so.

XOXO

Mrs. D

The Revised Plan... He's Here :)

Well, let's just say that I didn't make it to induction date (which was supposed to be Sunday)... Baby D had other plans in store :) It was my first lesson as a mother that, indeed, this baby has a mind of his own!

I will post so much more later, but it is with amazement, joy, excitement, and all the love in the world that I introduce:

Maxwell (Max) Brian

Born on August 17, 2011 at 10:12 p.m. (sorry I didn't post this earlier - my iPhone would not allow me to post with Blogger, so I had to wait until we got home)

8 pounds, 5 ounces

21.6 inches

Spitting image of his Daddy, with a few features of his Mommy :)

I will post his birth story in the next week or so (I really want to hold myself accountable to this so that I remember all of the details!), but here's the summary:

- Contractions started at 8:30 p.m. on Tuesday night, August 16 - they were consistently 1 minute long and 5 minutes apart. I was in pain.

- I labored at home until 2:00 a.m. on Wednesday, August 17. I called my Doctor's office, they told me to get to the hospital. We packed, got ready, and made it to the hospital at about 3:15 a.m.

- I was only dilated to a ZERO (go figure), but the nurses could see that I was, indeed in labor. They needed to see me progress to a three to technically be able to admit me. The time between 3:15 a.m. and 6 a.m. was NOT a fun time... they made me walk around the hospital as I was in major pain, contracting constantly. I thought I was going to die. I lost my mucous plug as we were walking around labor and delivery.

- At 6:00 a.m., I was checked by the Doctor on call, and I was a 1.5 (seriously, a 1.5?!?! I was so angry with my body). They decided to admit me - at this point, I was due to be induced on Sunday, anyway, so they figured my labor would progress throughout the day and we'd be in business.

Here's where my summary will stop, as I owe this birth story all of the details. Long story made short, I was in labor for a total of 26 hours before he was born, the Doctors still don't know the reason why, but my cervix ended up doing the opposite of what it is supposed to do during labor... mine got harder, thicker, and swelled up. Besides the fact that my cervix was not cooperating and by 9:00 p.m. and I had only progressed to five centimeters, Max's head was turned and there would have needed to be significant effort by the Doctor to turn him, which wasn't guaranteed to happen. So, at 9:50 p.m., the decision was made that Max needed to come out via C-section.

Max was born at 10:12 p.m., and the moment he was pulled out of me, he started to cry and scream. And I lost it... right there on the operating table. ALL I could think about is how much we waited for him, how difficult it was to get to this point, and it was official... he was alive, I was a Mom, and I loved him more than anything in the entire world. I remember the anesthesiologist saying something to the effect of, "Tears of joy!" and it just made me cry harder. Yes, tears of joy, but also tears of every other emotion possible. It was overwhelming. They brought Max over to me, and from the moment I laid eyes on him, it was love at first sight. And he looked at me as if to say, "Hi, Mom, I am finally here."

Thank you to everyone for their prayers, e-mails, support, and love... it was and is the most incredible experience imaginable.

Birth story and PICTURES to follow soon... :)

XOXO

Mrs. D

The Plan

I am still here, 40 weeks and 3 days pregnant! Officially overdue, and officially so, so, so excited to meet this little guy.

Had a Dr. appointment this morning, and guess what? Dilated to ZERO... still. It's a bit frustrating, knowing that we've planned our lives around this grand finale that was supposed to culminate no later than this past Saturday, but alas, that hasn't happened. I have gone through many emotions of being angry, pissed, sad, happy, and now, just content. I can't control this, and it's out of my hands... totally up to God to decide for us.

But - as for the good news. There is now a plan. Assuming we see no action (hard contractions, water breaking, etc.) in the next 48 hours, we go back for another appointment on Thursday at 9:30 a.m. We receive an ultrasound, which Mr. D and I are kind of excited for... we haven't seen our little guy since 20 weeks. They are going to measure amniotic fluid and size of the baby. Then, another exam right afterwards to see if I am dilating yet.

Then on Sunday, if I haven't gone into labor, we are being induced. We need to go in to the hospital at 4 p.m. and start up the process. My Dr. is working Monday and said if we do induce on Sunday, we'd likely have the baby on Monday, August 22. I have mixed feelings about all of this, but at least it's a plan, and I am happy about finally knowing when this is all going to go down. Even if I go into labor in the next 4 days, I am cool with it... as long as I know there was a plan in place to execute.

If we do need to be induced on Sunday, here is what I am sad about:

• Not experiencing the, "holy cow, honey, I think it's time to go to the hospital" moment - although this would freak me out and not be easy to manage, there's something about spontaneously knowing "it's time" that seems like kind of a thrill
• Not allowing my body to naturally go into labor. However, I have learned that my body is not cooperating at this point, and we need to jump-start it. For someone well-versed in the trenches of infertility - I am not surprised that my body won't do what it's supposed to.
• The elongated, painful experience of being induced. Just sounds like a long, tiring, exhausting, painful process... wish my body could get us a little ways there (ie: dilating just a bit) before needing medical attention.
• Increased chance of C-section. I am praying and hoping that I do not need a C-section, but of course, whatever it takes for our little guy to be born healthy and alive is most important. My Dr. said that, on average, there's a 25% chance of C-section with inductions, and about a 20% chance of C-section on non-induced labors. So, although chances are increased... it's not increased that much. I'm going to try my hardest to deliver naturally.

And here's what I am happy about:

• It will be kind of nice to wake up on Sunday, have breakfast, get everything loaded in the car, take a nice, long shower, get ready, and peacefully drive to the hospital to start the process.
• Starting labor over the weekend qualifies Mr. D for another full-week of paid paternity leave, so that would be nice. He will take two weeks, and then the next Monday after is Labor Day... no work. So, we could maximize his time off. If baby is born before the weekend, Mr. D would lose out on some vacation time we are saving for later in the year when I go back to work.
• Mr. D was born on October 22, and his favorite number of all-time is 22. He considers it is lucky number, and he wore it on all of his sports jerseys. When Dr. told us that if I am induced on Sunday, that means chances are very likely that he would be born on August 22, you should have seen Mr. D's eyes light up. So cute :)

So, that's the plan. I feel good that we finally have something outlined to show us how this is all going to happen. Of course, the plan may not work out and baby might be born before then, but it gives me a sense of calm that there is, indeed, a plan.

40 Weeks!

Absolutely unbelievable. We made it! 40 weeks of pregnancy. This journey is far from over... there's still labor and delivery of a healthy baby that we are anxious to have happen any time now, but one miracle is that I got pregnant, remained pregnant, and am now officially due to have a child. Wow. Last year at this time, it wouldn't have seemed possible.

But here we are, on our due date. Mr. D took me out for breakfast, we took a walk, played around in the baby's room, and I am looking forward to a spicy Asian dinner tonight at a local joint this evening. I am so ready to have this kid, but really trying to enjoy the last day(s) - hopefully - of this wonderful pregnancy.

And, with no further ado... here is the grand finale (although no baby yet): my 40 week update:

Best Moment of the Week: Hitting 40 weeks. Although I would have loved to deliver already, the other side of me is so incredibly thankful that our little guy has had 40 weeks to develop inside of me. So many concerns are avoided by hitting this point of pregnancy (he likely will have lower risk of jaundice, more fully-developed lungs, better sense of sleeping and eating, etc.). It is all a blessing.

Entertaining Question/Comment of the Week: "WHEN IS THAT BABY COMING OUT?" Asked by: everyone, including me. If anyone has the answer - not guess - so I can plan this whole labor thing, let me know and I will seriously pay you a lovely cash prize.

Obsessions: Wondering when this show is going to go down. Will my water break? Will I start having hard contractions? Will I end up being induced? Who knows...

What I am Most Looking Forward to This Week: Giving birth. I have a Doctor appointment on Tuesday morning, and if he's not here yet, my Doctor said we will likely have an ultrasound to ensure everything still looks good (right amount of fluid, baby is reacting to certain senses appropriately, etc.), and she will likely schedule an induction for later in the week. So, I am assuming that we will have a baby by this time next week - even with induction - but maybe the induction won't be scheduled until next Sunday? Not sure. Either way, I am looking forward to learning more and *hopefully* welcoming this little guy to our family this week.

What I Miss the Most: Nothing really... I am sleeping better this week (although a night sleeping on my stomach sounds like absolute heaven).

Symptoms: Contractions here and there, but nothing in a pattern. Foot/ankle swelling. Anxiousness, nervousness, excitement... all of the emotions you can think of (if those count as symptoms) :)

Like Father, Like Son

It totally clicked when my Doctor got done with my cervical exam yesterday, took off her gloves, and said, "Well, you're still not dilated."

Key the "ah-ha" moment (imagine a lightbulb going on in my head): Little Man isn't even born yet, and I already know... this kid is totally like his father.

Although I haven't passed my due date yet, after this true ah-ha moment, I now am pretty sure I will go over.

How do I know this?

Have I shared that my lovely Mr. D was 2.5 hours late to our first date? Oh, yeah, 2.5 hours. Long story made short, we met one another, talked on the phone for a few days, and decided to go out on a date. He was to pick me up at my apartment Friday night at 6:30.

Imagine me... dressed to the 9's, ready for the big date. I was ready by 6:15, the latest. At 6:30, I tried to appear that I was still busy - just in case he came to the door right then - by washing the countertops, writing out bills, watching TV, and hanging out and messing with my hair in the bathroom. 6:45, 7:00 passes... no Mr. D. 7:15, 7:30. I am now a bit ticked, but mostly worried. Did he get into a car accident? Get cold feet and not want to see me? Forget about our plans all together? I called his phone, and he answered. "I'm on my way!" he told me. Okay, no big deal... he's just running late. I tried my hardest to be patient as I watched TV.

8:00, 8:15, and 8:30 now pass. And I am ticked. It is TWO HOURS after he was supposed to pick me up - where the HELL is he? I called him again and got some lame excuse about leaving the house late, had to stop and get gas, there was traffic, BLAH, BLAH, BLAH. It was at 8:45 that I finally decided I was going to put on my PJs and call it a night. So, I did. And no more than 5 minutes after I put on my PJs, who showed up at my door? Mr. D and all of his handsomeness (with flowers, thank goodness). To this day, I can't believe how his charm, smile, and apologies completely faded the past 2.5 hours away. Within 10 minutes, I was back in my going-out clothes and we were out the door to dinner.

Seven years ago, when this happened, I should have taken this as a sign. The boy was late. Not just a few minutes, but HOURS late. And what did I learn from this experience? Not just Mr. D, but his ENTIRE family, are ALWAYS LATE. Not 2.5 hours late, like he was for our first date, but just straight-up LATE to everything they go to.

For years, it drove me nuts. I used to get so mad every time he was late, or WE were late because of something or another... church, parties, dinner reservations, movies, you name it. It's almost like it's in his family's blood. My family is always on time (or early), so this was quite the change. But over time, guess what happened? Mr. D made ME late so many times that I now consider it EARLY if we actually make it somewhere on time. I've gotten to be really sly about what time I tell Mr. D to show up at things - for example, doctor appointments. My appointment yesterday was at 3:50. What time did I tell Mr. D to arrive? 3:30 - actually, I told him 3:25, because I reminded him that we need to be there 5 minutes early. We drove separate, and guess what time he got there? 3:50. Right on time, due to my meticulous planning :)

I am now 2 days from my due date, and it finally struck me like a bolt of lightening...

What am I waiting for? Do I actually think anything is going to happen before Saturday? Heck no... not anymore.

Like father, like son... this kid's gonna be late.

Let's Get This Party Started

It's probably weird to WANT labor to start, but I am officially there. Bring it on. I've had on-and-off contractions all week, and I just want them to finally be in a pattern.

I have a Doctor appointment today at 3:45, and I am praying that this little guy is getting close. Last week, I was effaced, but not yet dilated... hoping that I've progressed and dilated since then.

Come on, Little Man, it's time for you to come out and meet your Mom and Dad. We've been dreaming about and waiting for you longer than you can imagine.

38 & 39 Weeks!... And, I am Ready...

I am 39 weeks, 1 day pregnant, and I can officially say that as of this past Friday, I am ready. I want this little guy to be born. Selfishly, it's starting to get harder and harder. I have had the easiest, most blessed pregnancy up to this point, and I am just starting now to slow down. It's impossible to sleep. My hands, joints, back, legs, ankles... they all ache. And I think the baby is thinking the same thing... time to blow this Popsicle stand. He can barely get comfortable himself... every movement is a significant adjustment, and I am sure he is thinking, "okay, there is clearly NOT enough room in here anymore."

I was done working as of Friday. I work for the best company in the world, and my boss is cool with me working from home until the baby is born. So, although I'll be logging in and calling into meetings, my production level will be cut at least in half, and nobody seems to care.

So, now it's just a waiting game. Will he be born today? Will I go into labor tomorrow? Or surpass my due date? Who knows, but I just told Mr. D last night that I am officially ready for him to come out. Mr. D agreed. It's time. After planning and waiting this long, it's time to get the show on the road :)

I pray that everything is going well for my blog friends... now that I'll have more time on my hands this week (assuming Little Man decides to stay put), I'll have some time to check up on you ladies and leave some comments :)

I missed last week, so here are my two weekly updates:

Best Moment of the Weeks: We had a baby shower at my work that Mr. D came in to attend. It was so much fun... 30 people at least, and everyone was excited for us. That was a fun day. Also, getting everything - and I mean everything - situated. We've been planning, and organizing, and situating for months now, and we're FINALLY all done. Feels so good. Now we just need Little Man to be here.

Entertaining Question/Comment of the Week: Because I am officially trying to get this kid out, Mr. D and I started BD'ing (not that we had stopped, but it's a different experience 9 months pregnant). I don't remember the exact comment, but he said something to the effect that he was having back spasms... the positions you have to try at this stage in the game are interesting, to say the least!

Obsessions: Whatever it takes.... let's just get this show on the road.

What I am Most Looking Forward to This Week: Not physically going back to work until mid-November - whoo-hoo! - and going to my Wednesday Dr. appointment. Curious to see if anything has progressed from last Wednesday...

What I Miss the Most: This week, I miss sleeping. It's impossible to sleep well right now.

Symptoms: Contractions here and there, but nothing in a pattern. Foot/ankle swelling. All exciting, lovely stuff :)