To the ends of the Earth

We finally had a free weekend all to ourselves. No working. No parties. No nothing.

It was blissful. All three of us, including puppy, slept in until about 9:30 a.m. We had a leisurely breakfast and planned out the day. The biggest event was to visit Morgan. Since the temperatures were melting the snow, we thought it'd be perfect to spend some time there without feeling rushed.

And we were wrong. When we arrived, there was still a six-inch layer of snow and ice on top of the grass. We donned our galoshes, Brent walked over to where we thought the grave was, and he started digging with his heel. The snow barely moved.

I ran to the car and grabbed this mini ice-scraper out of my trunk. Then, Brent started digging holes all over the graveyard, hoping against hope that we could find our little baby. Every time we reached grass, our hearts sank lower and lower. I gripped the bright purple and orange flowers in my gloved hands, refusing to let them go.

After a bit, I asked Brent if we should just come back. I was defeated and depressed. But hubby was not. 
His rosy cheeks turned toward me and then he looked down. He struck gold and uncovered "Burkey." Furiously, he continued slashing and wiping the ice away.

I sobbed and sobbed, crying harder than I have in a long time. It was an unbelievable relief that we found our little one. We jammed the fake flowers into the ground and stood hand-in-hand. Brent triumphantly smiled, his eyes dancing. Looking down, he said, "Don't worry, buddy. Daddy wasn't leaving without finding you."

Day care No. 1

At 7 tonight, Brent and I are heading to our first day care, which is actually an in-home jobber run by a woman named Anna. She has one child (not sure of the age) and no pets. I'm a little cautious walking into this, as I found her ad on the local Craigslist.

I have a checklist I found on Childcare Consultants. It contains all of the certifications to ask about, questions to ask and what the right answers are. Stay tuned for details!

Hello, dear baby

It's official.
I can feel her!
I can feel the punching and kicking.
I can feel the wriggling and rolling.

The very first occasion was on our trek northward to Berrysburg Feb. 7. I was one day away from 17 weeks, so I didn't think anything of it. All of the books says first-timers don't feel "quickening" until 18 to 22 weeks. But as I sat in the passenger seat, I whispered to hubby, "It's moving in there. I think it's moving."

He looked over with a goofy grin as big as his head ... and only slightly pale.

At 19-and-a-half weeks, I feel her more and more. It's not quite every hour yet, but it's every once in a while. I'd describe it as a flick on the inside of my tummy or a muscle twitch. Not painful at all. Although, I hear that's not too far away.

Hey, for a healthy little one, I'll take it! (After all, she needs to perfect her lacrosse/field hockey/basketball/running skills early. Practice doesn't make perfect -- perfect practice does.

What a world of day cares

When I thought of having a baby, images of snuggling a wriggling baby in my arms all but consumed me. And now that this little munchkin seems to be healthier than ever, reality has smacked me in the face yet again.

Brent and I are on the day care quest. I've been putting this off for five months because it seemed all too impossible. When I started researching places in the area last week, tears welled up. Not because I was happy for this baby, but more because I had this aching in my heart for Morgan. I miss that child so much. Then, guilt filled my heart for this baby. I've spent more time carrying this child. Oh, I don't know.

Anyway, I never actually thought that I'd morph into a stay-at-home Mom, but I never really pondered what would happen to the kid. After all, Lucy can roam the house, but I think certain organizations might frown upon that for children.

So, we're on the books for two local places next week. I'm looking forward to scoping out the infant rooms, but I'd rather just skip the enrollment rates. (I might need reality to pay a visit again.) Luckily, my mom has offered to supplement the daycare for baby Burkey. At least I know there's time with Momo built in the schedule for lots of hugs and snuggles during the day!

Interpretation of comments

It seems my stomach has popped overnight. For once, it's not attack of the chippers! My normally "big" sweaters are now a little snug, and I even had to retire my warm, festive red one this morning.

I always know when clothing doesn't quite look right by Brent's reaction. Here's an interpretation:

"It's fine" means "Hurry up, we're running late, and you've already changed three times, and I said the first outfit looked great."

"I don't think you've worn that yet" means "Didn't you already wear that this week?"

"Beautiful" means "HOMERUN!"

"That might be tight" means "Take it off, take it off, it no longer fits." (That was this morning. I already knew this looking in the mirror at the back fat.)

Ah well, baby keeps growing and growing and growing ...

Kudos to pregnant Olympian

A friend sent this story to me, and I had to read the story twice. Canadian curler Kristie Moore is 30  years old and five-and-a-half months pregnant.  She's an alternate, which means she won't see the ice unless one of her teammates is hurt and unable to perform. But, can you imagine? She's only a month ahead of me, and I couldn't imagine balancing my growing belly on ice purposely. Walking the dog around the neighborhood is dicey enough!


Check out the story here.

Happy birthday, Brent!

Up at 5:30 this morning, I baked my first-ever attempt at a birthday cake. I thought I had two round pans, but alas I didn't. Just one 13-by-9 pan. After it was finished, I thought I'd cut it in half, so that I could make a layered cake,

It smelled delicious as it rose in the oven. I let it cool for about 45 minutes. Cutting it in half, I frosted the bottom layer and then moved to the top. So far, so good.

I started smearing the chocolatey goodness onto the sides. Then, it happened. The cake started to crumble and crumble and crumble. Desperately trying to keep the creation upright, I started shoving my fingers onto the icing to better smear it. (PS. That doesn't work.)

Might not look like the Ace of Cakes, but it sure will taste scrumptious! Now, for the candles.

Happy Snow Day

Lucy loved the recent snowstorms. And I must admit, Brent and I didn't mind it too much either. Must be because we're winter babies. Looks like our little one is going to have much different feelings about it! (I should ask my Dad, who was born July 17!)

 

  

 

Regularness

At our regular OB appointment that followed yesterday's ultrasound, the nurse took my vitals and the baby's heartbeat was 157 bpm. (It can range anywhere from 120 to 170 depending on what I've eaten or drank in the last two hours.)

Then, the midwife Felicia came in and said that the restrictions were lifted! I can now walk our little puppy and generally move about as I please. (No running still, but I'm OK with that. I'd probably gas-out after a mile anyhow, and that's just depressing after finishing a marathon.)

So, now I'm just a regular patient. Ahh.. I never thought I'd be happy to be ordinary.

Quick update

Breathe. I'm breathing and I'm smiling and ...


Our ultrasound showed unbelievable news -- the baby is huge, the clot is small and I'm off restrictions! Oh, you should have seen the little wriggling bugger waving at us. Then, a little turn. And then a yawn! So precious. I was tired just watching.

We also found out some other news. It's (most likely) a girl! I know, I know. I was a big proponent of not finding out, but Tim asked and said he couldn't be 100-percent positive. So... I said OK. I think Brent nearly fell out of his chair.

I'm glad we know, though. Strangely enough, it makes me even more excited to know. And I feel like I have this overwhelming sense of connection with her now. Instead of him/her or he/she, it's less complicated. Of course, if the baby is a boy, he'll certainly be confused by the time he arrives!

Check out how big! You can see her baby teeth forming above the gumline, her spine and ribcage. It doesn't do the ultrasound justice at all, though.