Ready!

My friend Missy said “The end is in sight,” and then she immediately corrected herself and said “I guess I should say the beginning is in sight.” My cousin Tamie said “Yay. Very soon you will be un-pregnant.” My friend Kae said she’ll be thinking of me as I enter this next phase of my life.

Despite all the recent complaining about my inability to bend over or the fact that my arm is just barely long enough to wipe when I pee for the hundredth time each day, I have really enjoyed being pregnant, and I am actually going to miss the way my belly dances in the middle of the night or the baby’s hiccups can twitch me so much that I become distracted from whatever else is going on around me. I will miss being able to push on my right rib cage and then feel an immediate reaction on my left side as his fist or his knee readjusts to the new limitations of his space. I will miss having people come up to me in the hall at work and say “How much longer?” and “You look great.”

Ann says that the second that baby is born I’ll become invisible, and that is fine with me. I am ready and so excited for my son to arrive.

It’s been almost six and a half years since Zack looked up at me with his big brown unfocused eyes and captured my heart. And it’s hard to believe it’s been 4 years since an adorable red-blonde little girl who looks more and more like her mommy every day entered my world. (“I’m not a baby any more,” she tells me. “I’m a kid.”)

In less than 24 hours my own son will enter this world and though everyone tries to describe the love I’ll feel for this little being, I know I can’t begin to imagine it. But in less than 24 hours I won’t have to imagine it because he’ll be here. I can’t wait.

I’m ready!

40 More Hours

TT, Sarah T, Barb, and Ann---all ready for Baby's first Christmas

The girls have all arrived in anticipation of the arrival of the boy. (Zack had to stay behind for another week of school.) We're counting down in hours now, and in less than 40 hours a boy will be joining this crew. Then you can all stop asking me what his name is because I'll know when I meet him.

Two Christmases

Two Christmases, 41 years apart

December 1966

December 2007 (38 weeks)

37 Weeks

Kelly and Barb and Belly on the back deck

With only 14 days left until Baby's arrival, I'm finding myself more and more exhausted and uncomfortable (hence less writing), so rather than complaining about all that, I'll just post some pictures from my awesome weekend with Kelly. She drove over and back during a winter storm that carpeted our area with beautiful white snow, and we had a relaxing weekend. She brought me the most beautiful baby blanket (perfect size for swaddling) that she crocheted herself. Self-taught. A gift I will always treasure.

A precious personal gift

A HUGE Fan

This year I really am a HUGE fan!

TT and I spent the holiday watching football, eating pumpkin pie and breathing in the odors of onion, sage, and cinnamon wafting out from the kitchen. We started the day with a brisk walk in the 20 degree temps with the wind in our faces so that we could, as Jim would say, "earn our pumpkin pie." I don't think we earned as much pie as we ate since we ended up making a second pie during halftime of the Packers-Lions matchup.

I really miss Annie and the kids this Thanksgiving, but I'll see them in just 3 and a half short weeks when Baby arrives. Despite the backaches and the heartburn and the insomnia, I have a lot to be thankful for this year. Baby hiccups are definitely one of my favorite things (since they remind me he's in there and alive but they don't hurt my bladder or my kidneys or my stomach), and I can only enjoy them for a few more weeks. It seems pumpkin pie brings them on even more than Fresca, so I think I'll go cut my first slice of the second pie.

Definitely a Matousek

35 Weeks HUGE!

Dr. Peck said the baby's hiccups are a great thing and they tell him three different things: 1) Baby's "an aggressive eater" (definitely a Matousek... for proof of that read the early postings from the first trimester or consider the fact that for lunch today I ate two pieces of Rocky Rococo's sausage and mushroom pizza followed by an entire box of Julie's organic ice cream sandwiches), 2) the tube from Baby's mouth to his stomach is free and clear and he has no birth defects related to these areas, and 3) there is lots of amniotic fluid for him to practice swallowing.

I got to see more of this swallowing today during my third BPP (I have these weekly now), and I also saw Baby suck on his thumb and sleep with his arm over his eyes. He's got lots of hair (which they say will fall out shortly after birth), and he's as active as ever... kicking the ultrasound device and squirming and turning and bouncing on my bladder.

Tomorrow is 35 weeks. The countdown continues. 27 more days.

34 Weeks - Just 34 More Days

A definite increase in Hugeness!
I think my pajama bottoms have reached their limit

Okay, my belly is officially HUGE. And the reason I know this is because I cannot seem to walk through a door without bumping my belly. I kid you not. The stalls in the bathroom at work present a particular challenge (I have to back up next to the toilet bowl just to swing the door wide enough for me to get out), but walking through the door that leads to my garage to grab a cold can of pop from the garage floor, and boom, the door doinks the belly. Out the front door to grab the mail and ouch, another belly bump. Car doors. Store doors. Oven doors. The employee entrance door at work. How is it possible that even though I’ve had this giant thing sticking out in front of me for weeks I suddenly manage to hit it with everything in site?

And there are more changes…

The very distinct kick and punch feelings have been replaced by rolls and pushes as the baby is now big enough that he can’t really wind up and pitch or kick with great force. There is now more baby than amniotic fluid. And when I feel a foot or a knee pushing one part of my belly out, it’s a great deal of fun to push back and watch it pop up elsewhere. It’s a little game we play. A lot. But in the last few weeks I’ve also started experiencing a new sensation. Baby hiccups. Once or twice a day my belly will start these tiny, rhythmic pulses that are 2-3 seconds apart. It’s like having a heartbeat where my stomach used to be. My doctor says this is very common, especially with more mature fetuses that have a well developed central nervous system. Many experts say that hiccups in the womb are a response to the baby practicing breathing movements with their lungs and diaphragm. Who knew the hiccups could be so fun? Way more fun than the occasional elbow into my kidney or foot into my rib cage.

Tomorrow is 34 weeks. Another ultrasound. The first of my weekly ultrasounds. And as exciting as that is, the thing I am most excited about tomorrow is the arrival of my new Queen-sized boxspring and mattress. I’m operating under the, perhaps, mistaken delusion that a new, high-quality bed will make it easier to sleep. But when I think about it, I realize that my bladder won’t care whether I’m on a good mattress or not. I’ll probably still be getting up every hour or two to pee.

I had lunch with Sarah today, and she brought along Nathan. We took turns holding him and bouncing him so that we could each eat, and my body just melted when the little 14-pound heater relaxed against my shoulder and started drooling on my blouse. It took me right back to when I used to hold little Zachary James for hours. Hard to believe that was six years ago. (As an aside, Zachary has said he thinks James would be a good name for the baby "because that's part of my name too!")

34 more days until I bring one of those home. As the booper and I played our little push-pull game with the wall of my belly tonight and he made me laugh (as he often does), I spoke out loud to him again.

“I can’t wait to meet you,” I said. “I can’t wait.”

Really Neat Thing

I was walking through the hallway that winds past the office of the man who owns the company I work for today, and as I turned the corner and passed his secretary’s office I heard “How are you doing, Barb?” I backed up and peeked my head into her office and said I was hanging in there. She pushed her chair away from her computer and ran her hand through her thinning red-gray hair. I told her this 3^rd trimester was more challenging than I expected.

“It’s worth it,” she said.

I told her I am sore most of the time and I really can’t ever get comfortable enough to sleep.

“Now when are you due? Soon right?”

I told her 6 weeks. 6 weeks from yesterday. 5 weeks and 6 days from today. 41 days.

She told me it would go fast, and I told her I wish it would go faster, that I haven’t slept for a week.

“You’ll never sleep again,” she said. “But it’s worth it. It’s so worth it.”

“That’s what I hear,” I said. “Which is why I did this.”

She knows my story. Somehow through the grapevine at work she’s one of the people who has gotten the right story, the story about how I made a conscious choice to make a baby as a single mother because I was turning 40 and running out of very precious time to start my family. (As opposed to the guy who sits three cubicles down from me who has heard a different grapevine story and had the nerve to ask one of our sales people if HE was the father of my baby.)

“I admire you so much,” she said. “I think you’re doing a really neat thing.”

I walk past Julie’s office all the time on my way from my office to the offices up front, and I see her candy jar filled with chocolates and I always think about taking a Reese’s or a Snickers. But I don’t really know her and I don’t want to disturb her, don’t want her to think I’m just a candy hog. But I think from now on I will peek my head in and say hi, whether I take a piece of candy or not.

“Thank you,” I said. “That really means a lot.” And I meant it.

It’s amazing what a little kindness from a stranger can do when you’re exhausted and sore and lonely and wondering how you are possibly going to manage to get through another 5 weeks and 6 days without anyone to rub your feet or massage your back or make you a cup of chamomile tea before bed. It’s amazing how the kindness of a stranger can make you realize that you can do just about anything.

Great River Trail

Nathan and Sarah and Barb (with her 5-pounder)

Just six more weeks, and though my belly is aching and my hips are sore and I have a myriad of things to complain about every day (most of them exascerbated by a complete lack of sleep... nobody ever tells you that 75% of pregnant women have insomnia and difficulty sleeping in the final few months before delivery), I invited my friend Sarah out for a sunshiney hike on the Great River Trail this past weekend. And just like my earlier hike with Rhonda, this one flew by as we talked and talked and talked. We didn't really realize how far we had walked until about the last 200 hundreds yards on the way back to the car when my hips started burning. Sarah brought along her own little bruiser who is now six weeks old and almost 14 pounds, and the four of us posed for a picture along the trail. We had so much fun, and I hope we can still sneak a few more of these walks in before I'm too sore to walk.

After our walk Sarah and Nathaniel came back to my house. Sarah and I talked while Nathan had some lunch and fell into a milk stupor. Then Sarah generously donated her Snoogle pregnancy pillow and her maternity support band to the remainder of my pregnancy. As the list of pains and aches continues to grow during the final trimester, I'm grateful for every little bit of comfort I can find.

6 more weeks.

Halloween Treat

After a few days of unnecessary anxiety (caused by a few friends who told me that the pain I was feeling in my right side was an early symptom of pre-eclampsia), I went in to get my BPP (biophysical profile) which is a test they do to check the overall health of the baby. I will be having these every week starting two weeks from now, since my "advanced maternal age" puts the baby in the high risk category... especially early and late in the pregnancy.

"Bruiser" at 32 weeks

TT came with me to see her grandson on the ultrasound, and because the BPP is a timed test, the sonographer couldn't really spend much time looking at Baby in too much detail. But TT got to see him open and close his hand, move his spine, breath (which, apparently, is really rare to see so easily on an ultrasound) and suck on his thumb. The first thing he showed us when he got on the screen was a special present for TT that she's been talking about ever since: his boy parts. I was guessing Baby was about 4 pounds at this point (based on all I've been reading from various pregnancy sources) but the measurements taken of his abdomen and femur and head indicated a weight of 5.1 pounds. His new nickname is Bruiser, though TT still keeps calling him Sam.

After the BPP we met with Dr. Peck and he told me that I shouldn't listen to any women I know because they will just cause me undue anxiety and I do not need to worry about pre-eclampsia. He said the pain I'm feeling is likely the little guy's butt pushing up against my ribs.

"Get used to feeling a lot of new pains," he said. "It's pretty cramped in there, and he's going to be pushing things that have never been pushed before."

My weight gain is now up to 24 pounds. My blood pressure was 123/70 which is high for me (I've been consistently 102/68 for a while) but Dr. Peck said unless that lower number reaches 90 there is no reason to worry. And thanks to my anxiety earlier this week I now know where the free blood pressure check is at Target.

I go back for my next BPP in two weeks, and then weekly after that. Not because the doctor or the sonographer see anything wrong (everything looks great, as a matter of fact), but because stillbirths are one of the risks of "advanced maternal age" and if we check Baby every week we can see if he seems to be struggling at all. Doctor Peck stressed that I should not worry about this because I am very healthy and Baby's BPP results were fantastic. We got an A+ this week.

It was a great Halloween treat to be able to share all that with TT, and we've started the countdown. Less than 7 weeks until we finally meet him!

Belly Dance

If I had a video camera and knew how to upload a movie to this site I'd film my belly for you all so you could see the fun I have every afternoon about 3:30pm. It's a rather fun show. Pregnancy has given a whole new meaning to the phrase "belly dance."

Warning---Pregnant Belly in Jeans

I woke up this morning excited about the gorgeous drive up the Mississippi River Valley, the entire area decorated with flame-colored stands of birch and poplars and maples. But I wasn't sure how to dress. This is fall. Jeans weather. But a pregnant woman in jeans? I'm not comfortable with the way my butt looks in jeans when I'm not pregnant (though, like every woman I know, I fake a level of security with my own body that really only exists for brief moments of time). But the cool, crisp air and the thought of crunchy piles of leaves under my feet made me dig out the three pair of maternity jeans that my friend Sarah gave me four months ago. And when I found a pair I didn't hate, I decided to leave the house in them and wear them for my meeting with Rhonda.

The Belly in Jeans

Rhonda is a friend from the Twin Cities who is just 6 weeks behind me, carrying an active little girl that is probably well over a 1 pound at this point. And now that we live two and a half hours apart, it's been tough to find time to get together and catch up. We decided to meet halfway in Red Wing for a walk on the Cannon Valley Trail and lunch at Lilly's Coffeehouse on Main Street.

Despite the cloudy skies, the drive up the Mississippi River Valley did not disappoint. Around each new curve I encountered slashes of bright yellow and orange that always surprise me when they occur naturally. The bright yellows along the highway and hanging over the little towns along the river look like they would glow in the dark if someone turned the lights out, and I kept pulling over to take pictures. The drive is a commute I made every single day for the last several years, but for a few weeks in October every year, it becomes even more magical, and i feel truly blessed to live in such a beautiful place.

Rhonda and Barb, Two Bellys on the Cannon Valley Trail, Red Wing

Rhonda and I met and started walking fast and hard, not even paying attention to our heavy breathing and the stretching ligaments below our growing bellys. It had been so long since we'd seen each other and we had so much to catch up on... boys and houses and jobs and money and so very many stories. But most of all it was so great to be able to talk to somebody else who knows exactly what you're talking about when you say you are in love with the movements going on in your own belly, somebody else who understands that sometimes you stand in front of the mirror after your morning shower and study the line down the center of your belly and the way your belly button has flattened out and the way your profile looks like you have a basketball stretching your skin from the inside. It is so nice to confess these things to someone, to say "I can't believe it's me that's pregnant, it's me that's going to be the mom" and have them say "I know. Exactly." It really is the most unbelievable experience, and I am so glad to be able to share it with so many people, but days like today when I get together with my friend who has chosen this same path of single motherhood and understands so many of the ups and downs and fears and joys of this whole process, I feel especially grateful. When we got back to our cars in the parking lot and looked at the clock and realized we had been walking and talking for two solid hours, we let ourselves admit to sore backs and aching feet and stretching ligaments. We probably walked well over 5 miles which ain't too bad for a couple of pregnant women of "advanced maternal age." In Jeans!

Something About Me That's Normal

Just a quick update since so many people have been calling or emailing to ask about the glucose tests. After 100 g of orange-soda-flavored sugar and 4 blood draws and 3 hours sitting in a doctor’s waiting room observing old men in farmer hats with canes and old women with walkers and young paralyzed people in motorized carts and young mothers toting infants while holding the hands of unruly toddlers, my results came back as completely normal. All four blood draws (fasting, 1-hour, 2-hour and 3-hour) all came in at normal levels. So there’s something about me that’s normal.

The time in the waiting room wasn’t as bad as I expected. I spent much of it watching all the people and reading a Howard Norman memoir on the time he spent translating the Noah folktales of the Inuit people (more interesting than you’d think) and watching The Belly bounce around. As I tell Ann every day, I don’t think this child ever sleeps. When I’m sitting in the car he’s kicking at the seat beat. When I’m at my desk the skin above my belly button pulses and taps against the edge of my desk. When I sit with my arms crossed at a work training session he pushes my arms up, reminds me that he wants all the space he can get. When I sleep he wakes me at 3 am with an elbow or a foot or knee to my bladder. He never seems to stop moving… except when I move…. which isn’t often these days. I spend a lot of time NOT moving. And when I’m not moving I am constantly entertained by an active little one who I am hoping will sleep much more after he’s born.

30 Weeks and Growing

Aunt Judy sent me an email the other day and told me it was great to finally see my belly sticking out further than my boobs. (Thanks, Aunt Judy.) To date I’ve gained 23 pounds, and since I’m supposed to gain about a pound a week during the last trimester, I’m right on track for a 30 pound weight gain. And according to the experts, this is where all that weight will go:

Uterus 2 pounds
Breasts 1 pound
Increased blood 3 pounds
Water 4 pounds
Fat 8 pounds
Baby 7-8 pounds
Placenta 1-2 pounds
Amniotic fluid 2 pounds

And most of that is riding out in front of me at the moment straining my lower back and making it painful to sit and uncomfortable to try to sleep at night. (Notice I said “TRY” to sleep.) On top of all that Baby recently shifted into the head down position, so his head is sitting right on top of my pelvic floor muscles and my bladder. Not fun. It’s a good thing he continues to entertain me all day long with kicks and jabs, so I can remember why I’m going through all this. My mornings continue to be joyful as I sit at my desk and watch my belly jump around. Sometimes I am so enthralled with watching him poke and pulse the skin of my belly that I get almost nothing done.

Tonight I fast for my 3-hour glucose tolerance test tomorrow. And in two weeks I go in for the next ultrasound. TT is going to make the drive over to go with me, and I can’t wait to see how big my little boy has gotten. He’s probably well over 15 inches and 3 pounds by now, but he should start gaining weight rapidly now. Just 9 more weeks before he arrives.

29 Weeks

Another doctor’s appointment. Another step closer to bringing Baby home. I drank the orange syrup that so many women have warned me about (it really wasn’t bad at all… just tasted like orange soda), and then the nurse and I went over treatments for all the little “challenges” the third trimester brings. I’m supposed to lay down to avoid hemorrhoids, but I have to stay upright to avoid heartburn. No wonder hormonal pregnant women have trouble remembering little things.

I was fighting a nasty cold at the time of my appointment.

“If you could take anything for your cold right now, what would you take?” Dr. Peck asked.

“Alka Seltzer Cold Plus,” I said.

“Go right ahead.” He said I’m at the stage in my pregnancy where just about anything is safe because the baby is well developed.

He reviewed all my surgical records and drew little pictures to help explain to me that my previous surgery did not enter the endometrial cavity, so I can keep the baby in there a lot longer than Dr. Brown (in Minneapolis) wanted to. So it looks like I’ll be bringing baby home just in time for Christmas.

“Smart baby,” Dr. Peck said as he measured my uterus and felt my abdomen. “He’s already head down”… which explains why so much of the kicking and movement seems to be right around my belly button.

Last night I drank a big glass of Alka Seltzer Cold Plus and finally got a good night’s sleep, and this morning I got a call from Dr. Peck’s nurse. I have to go back in for the follow-up 3-hour glucose test. They require the more extensive testing for anyone who tests over 140 on the glucose test, and mine came back at 141.

“Damn,” I told her. “I should have done a few jumping jacks on my way to the lab.”

So next week I go in for 3 hours of bloodwork. Halloween morning is the next big ultrasound, and then after that I’ll have weekly appointments to monitor the baby. This is standard protocol for a 40-year-old high risk pregnancy.

I’m getting very excited!!!

A Visit from Grandma

TT Relaxes on the Deck

A great weekend with Mom. She seemed to be very tolerant of my new lifestyle which includes a lot of eating (followed by heartburn and indigestion and whining about how full I am even after small meals) and a lot of sleeping. We went for walks and watched the sunsets and drove through Perrot State Park and ate delicious sandwiches at The Trempealeau Hotel and bought a pie at Galesville Apple Affair. She told me stories of when she was pregnant, and I kept making her put her hand on my belly just in time for the baby (who she calls Sam or Max) to apparently decide he didn’t kick on demand. He continues to be very, very active… except, as it turns out, when you want him to be. Last night Mom kept trying to feel the baby kick while I was, as she said, “channeling your father” during the Packer game. (How could anyone NOT be upset by the turnovers and Brett’s dangerous interception followed by two quarters of ridiculous play calling and unnecessary penalties? We should have won that game!)

The Belly At 28 and a Half Weeks

I Fell Off the Wagon

When I gave up caffeine 8 months ago, I didn't know everything my body would have in store for me during my pregnancy.

"They are parasites for 9 months," my mother says.

There are lots of things a baby inside you and the hormones he brings along with him do to your body that nobody warns you about until it's too late. Today I decided that a little caffeine was a fair trade for hemorrhoids and constipation and constant heartburn and lower back aches and insomnia and tugging abdominal cramps and sore boobs and night-time congestion and other more unmentionable symptoms that any pregnant woman knows about but doesn't talk about.

I fell off the wagon. Hard. I pulled up to the Mugby Junction drive-through and ordered a double hazelnut frappe. No whipped cream. Half-caf. (I did show some control.)

Oh my God. I have missed you, my sweet friend. Oh, how I have missed you.

Very Special Gifts

This weekend Brooklynn spent the weekend at my house. We made cookies and homemade pizzas and hiked through the Wildlife Refuge and played games and sorted baby clothes and cheered for Brett Favre and the Packers to defeat her father's team and just had fun being together being Sisters. Brooklynn is such a joy to me, and we talked a lot about how important it will be for us to continue to make time for each other after the baby is born. She is very excited, and she helped me sort the baby clothes so we had the newborn and 0-3 months stuff ready. We oohed and ahhed at the little brown dogs on light blue stripes and fuzzy lions on safari-colored overalls and the little Winnie the Pooh sleepers and the tiny little newborn mittens to keep him from scratching himself. She told me that she thinks "this boy will be spoiled. He's already got more clothes than me, and he's not even born yet." As soon as we finished sorting and I put the clothes for 9-12 months away, she asked me if we could pull them out and sort them all over again because they were so cute and so fun to look at. Brooklynn's presence in my life is such a gift, and every time I see her I am grateful that we found each other when we did.

Oh, how I wish she were here tonight to see what greeted me when I got home from work... a package from my beautiful friend Kae who lives in Denver. She sent me adorable little Denver Bronco socks and a onesie that my son will get to wear while Bush is still president. I love it!!!! Thank you Kae.

"I already know more than the President."

For more pictures from my action packed weekend with Brooklynn, see my website.

How To Create a Perfect Nursery

Talk to your sister on the phone. Tell her you are thinking that Winnie the Pooh might be the theme of your nursery, that you love the sage green in the sheets you saw. Answer the phone when she calls to tell you that she just bought all your crib bedding on sale at Target. Follow her instructions when she tells you that you should go to Home Depot and buy a gallon of Christopher Robbin’s Swing from the Disney paint collection. Pick her up at the airport and make sure she has her favorite pumpkin spice coffee creamer and blue painters’ tape available when she wakes up in the morning. Sit on the soft new carpeting in the nursery and lean against the stark white walls and talk to her while she removes the outlet cover plates and tapes off all the woodwork.Open the windows and close the bedroom door and sit in the living room with the cats while your sister trims the edges with sage green Christopher Robbins’ Swing. Blink your eyes awake when she comes in the living room and tells you she wishes she could have found your camera to take a picture of the 3 big bellies napping in the living room.

At the fancy baby furniture store, oogle over the first crib you see and listen when your sister tells you it’s the same crib she bought for her son 6 years ago, only in a different color. Walk through the store admiring all the other cribs and listen as she tells you what is good and bad about each. Be grateful that your younger sister has been through all of this before, that you don’t have to enter into it completely blindly. Tell her that you think you like the darker wood better and sigh in relief when she tells you that she thinks it would look much nicer against Christopher Robbins’ Swing than the honey-colored crib. Listen as the sales associate gives you the spiel on the different expensive safety features of all the mattresses they sell. Turn to your sister and say “Whatever you think.” Be relieved when she tells you that the $80 Target mattress is just as good as the $200 mattresses you’re looking at. “Mine is 6 years old and Sarah still sleeps on it,” she says.

Be suddenly overwhelmed with emotion when she tells you, after she has lifted and struggled to fit the unassembled crib box into your Subaru Outback, that you’re going back into the store to order the rocking chair you love. Be glad you are wearing your sunglasses and nobody can see the tears building in your eyes.

Look at fabric swatches and be relieved when she says direct things like “Oh not that one,” and then apologizes for taking over. Tell her you are glad to have her there, that it reminds you of the time she helped you pick out a couch at Dayton’s Home Store. Remember how you had both laughed at Dayton’s when the sales associate left the room for a minute and you speculated that she thought you were a lesbian couple. “We could kiss,” she had said and you had nearly wet your pants laughing.

At Target carry the mattress pads and covers (2 of each so you always have one clean) while your sister carries the crib mattress. Back at home nap in front of the TV while your sister rollers the nursery walls. Admire the perfect color and how you’d probably love that color for your own bedroom as your sister walks around the room and points out flaws in the paint job that you can’t even see. Tell her it’s perfect.

Sit on the floor and hold wood pieces in place and hand allen wrenches and bolts back and forth until the Amber Baby’s Dream crib sits solidly against the newly painted south wall of the nursery. Exclaim how much you love it. Be grateful that Mom is paying for it.

Pay attention as your sister explains how to place the bedding on the mattress, the importance of taking the mattress out of the crib to do it rather than bending over the railings and struggling. Listen as she explains when to use the bumpers and how to tie them.

Thank your sister once again for all her hard work, for everything she has done for you over these last six months.

Later that night after she’s gone to bed, sneak back into the nursery and stand over the crib and study the little Poohs and Piglets and Tiggers and imagine what it will be like when your little boy is laying there. Panic. And again be grateful that your sister will always be there for you helping you through each scary step of this incredible journey.

Pooh and Barb and Ann (and a nursery color that is much prettier than it is in this photo).

My Rookie Kicker

Since ignoring the photo requests doesn't seem to be an option!

I have been pleasantly surprised and impressed by the Packers' new rookie kicker this season, but Mason Crosby's got nothing on the little guy that has recently discovered that my bladder apparently looks suprisingly like a football. Ouch.

Becoming Miranda

Do you remember that episode of Sex & the City right after Miranda has her baby and the girls are all out together and then decide to go uptown and before Miranda can even say anything they hail her a cab and shuffle her off to go home alone with her baby? And then later Carrie comes by and Miranda has a little emotional meltdown (well, as emotional as Miranda ever gets) about how alone she is and how her single friends are deserting her?

I just had one of those moments as my writing group started planning the next workshop get-together. I feel so sad about missing them again. Maybe it's just because I looked at my profile in the mirror this morning and it suddenly became so incredibly real... how my life is about to change. Don't get me wrong. I'm very excited about how my life is going to get richer and fuller, but I'm sad about the way my friendships are starting to change already. I'm terrified of being abandoned by my friends.

I know what helps is to start building new friendships with other women who are in the same stage as me, and I've been so grateful to all of the Minnesota Single Mothers By Choice women who have reached out to me over the last year or so. They are wonderful and sweet and generous and thoughtful and brave women. I appreciate every word of kindness and reassurance and support they've given me, and I'm hoping I'll continue to stay in touch (thanks to Rhonda's offer to put me up for a night when there are SMC meetings in the twin cities). But I have moved to western Wisconsin, and at this point I need to start finding local mommies.

I’m freaking out.

Just a little.

You would too if you woke up one day and looked in the mirror and saw a profile that included a basketball-sized bump and stretch marks and little spider veins and swollen ankles.

I know what I'm feeling is totally normal (after all, it happened to Miranda), but still... it's scary, and this blog is all about sharing all the parts of my journey with you.

On a more positive note, I love my new house where there are no streetlights, and the sky is lit with a zillion stars, and the wind blowing in the leaves of the neighbor’s poplar trees is the only sound I hear as I watch the sunrise turn the sky pink while I eat breakfast on my back deck. I really feel like I’m home for the first time in a long time, and that is going to be a great way for me to feel when I bring this little boy home from the hospital in just 11 short weeks.

Coming soon… .a photo of the growing belly. And it IS growing. Baby is now over two pounds and 15 inches long, and my belly knows it. (As does my lower back.)

I can't wait for Annie's visit this weekend. It's time to start working on that nursery and she's been a godsend in planning for this baby. What would I do without her!

Inspirational Auntie PAMFA

Part of our group on Jarosa Mesa, September 2005

This week I have to give a nod to the wonderful women of my writing group. PAMFA. When my mentor and friend Pam started this group 5 years ago (wow, has it really been that long already?) who would have known that we would continue beyond our original goal of a two-year commitment, that we would grow into a loving community that is like family?

This week as my writing group gathers in the beautiful mountains of Colorado (oh, how I wish I could be there), I am sad to be missing them all. I can picture Pam coming out into the living room in the morning, her hair still wet as the rest of the group mills around the solid wood table and spoons sugar into lattes and raisins into steel cut oatmeal as the sun heats the linoleum floor and twinkles through the stained glass Dante hanging near the window. I can feel the chill in the air as everyone slowly meanders out to their cars at the end of the night, the bright moon glowing over the ranch and the dogs circling to tell everyone how much they have enjoyed the company. I can hear the laughter as Tami tells a story about her adventures with Pam or Katherine somehow manages to make everyone laugh about breast cancer. I can see Lesley’s graceful motion as she reaches into the salt bowl and douses her salad with white crystals several times without letting it interrupt the story she is telling. I can see the excitement in Heather’s face as she takes the first sip of her latte and comes alive in the morning. I can smell the garlic wafting out from the kitchen as Pam instructs someone to stir her famous mashed potatoes as she adds the cream. I can see Karen kicked back on the couch, her Smartwool-covered feet resting on the coffee table as she reads through a manuscript or one of the many books piled on the table. I can hear the individual sighs and exhalations as everyone takes their first bite of whatever fish (Copper River Salmon?) Pam has baked… a dish that everyone will swear is better than ever before. And I can almost feel the tickles and cuddles and leaning bodies of those wonderful Irish Wolfhounds. But most of all, even without being there, I can feel the love and support within this group.

This wonderful group of brave women has been an inspiration to me for years, and they have all been supportive and encouraging of me in every aspect of my life, not just my writing. They were there when my world was shattered by an unexpected break-up, and they have been there ever since telling me that I am going to be a great mother, that this is the path I’m supposed to follow, that they are excited for me. They are surrogate aunts to my little boy, and even if motherhood and babies are not regular subjects among us as a group, these brave, strong, smart, beautiful women have made me a better person and given me so many great gifts. Just like everyone else, I am bumping through life, making mistakes and hopefully learning as I go, and I am so grateful to have these women in my corner whether I succeed or fail.

Lisa once said to me that PAMFA challenged her in so many ways and made her not only want to be the best writer that she could be, but the best Lisa that she could be. I couldn’t have said it any better myself, and I thank God for these women who have inspired me to be the best Barb that I can be, who have taught me through example about the importance of taking risks and putting myself out there and having the courage to follow my own dreams. It is largely because of them that I had the courage to make this little boy growing inside me, and as they gather together this week to talk about writing and boys and traveling and life, although we are separated by the miles between here and Colorado, I can feel the love as if they were all right here in this room.

Thank you all for everything you have taught me!!!

Not Just Gas

My 24-week belly poses in front of the lake in Winona

Once again, a moment I have to share. Baby is so strong and solid now that his kicks feel like real kicks, and I’ve been feeling him a lot during the last week. I can really feel that it is him in there making those movements and not just gas. But he's still small enough (about a pound an a half) that he's got plenty of room to move around, so there is lots of kicking all over the place.

A few days ago I couldn't believe all that activity was coming from just four limbs, and I asked him if he had invited some friends over for a party. It really is the coolest thing. Yesterday when I felt the kicks I sat at my desk and closed my eyes and put my hand on my belly. The kicks were hard enough that it was possible to feel them with my hand from the outside. Mom says she can remember when she was pregnant with me and she watched my fist pounding on her belly. I don’t have movements that graphic yet, but he’s definitely in there announcing to me very clearly that he’s happy and healthy.

12 more weeks.

Door County Part Two

Taylor, me and Uncle Ron at Cave Point Park

When I got to Door County Friday I did the usual hugs, and I even let Aunt Judy rub my belly. Just a little. We chatted for a little while, all of them giving me their input about names. (Uncle Ron suggested that I name my son Samuel with a middle name that starts with an A so his initials would be S.A.M. I told him that was exactly the joke Jimmy Joe would have told.)

Inside Taylor and I rolled our eyes and watched the circus of the three grandparents cooking, TT and her sister singing and debating over how to make Ann’s famous dill sauce while Uncle Ron escaped outside to grill the fish (your mother’s idea, Johnny). We sat down to a dinner that started with TT’s famous fresh summer salad and ended with Mom raving about the fish and the dill sauce over and over.

“And I don’t even like fish,” she said as she took her fourth piece of tender, pink salmon.

Mom, Uncle Ron, Taylor and Aunt Judy before digging in.

After we were full, we sat and picked at the remains on the serving dishes and mom continued to dip her finger in the dill sauce (“I could put that on the steak tomorrow,” she said). TT and I argued over who would sleep where. She insisted on sleeping on the couch and giving me her bed, telling me that last night she woke up to read at 11, 1, 3, and 5 anyway… and in between those times she got up to pee. “Odds I’d read. Evens I’d pee,” she said. I told her THAT was going on the blog. It seems we're on the same schedule.

The three of them laughed about how this family always enjoys talking about bodily functions and how much fun it’s going to be to teach that to my son. Taylor went to the living room to watch TV, and I rolled my eyes and started washing dishes.

After dinner we sat around a beach bonfire and played a round robin story-writing game that resulted in a tale of a spaceship coming down from the sky so aliens could urinate on our fire and compare the smell of morning breath to a skunk.

The evening ended with Uncle Ron and I sitting by the last embers of the fire while the moon that peeked through the clouds reflected off Lake Michigan. I could hear the waves slapping the nearby shore, and as Uncle Ron told me about the miracles of his grandchildren – the way Taylor focuses at basketball, how he knew how strong Jack was and everything with him would be okay, how Malia brings him to the big front window to watch motorcycles on Ravine Road—my own child put the flutter-flutter-flutter behind him and moved on to his first real firm kicks. Uncle Ron continued to tell stories of Julie and Johnny and Michael and how proud he was of each and every one of his children, and I sat content with my hand resting on my belly feeling the solid kicks that had me imagining a real knee bending and unwinding to connect a foot with its surroundings.

Earlier in the evening Mom and Aunt Judy and Uncle Ron had joked about who the matriarch and patriarch of the family were and who would be in the future, who would outlive who. And as I sat there feeling amazed by my son unwinding to punch and kick, I realized how much I love and enjoy these people, and how much I hope all of them are still around years from now so my son will get to love and enjoy them as much as I do.

Door Dounty 2007

Are these the cutest kids ever, or what?

Our family's annual Door County gathering is one of the highlights of my summer every year. I adore those kids so much, and life around them is full of fun and laughs and curiosity and imagination (and the word "poop"). This year's trip was no exception.


We played in the sun and went to The Farm. TT kept wanting to touch Aunt Barb's belly, and Ann warned the kids to be careful of the baby in Aunt Barb's belly. When TT tried to get the kids to touch it, Zack said, "Are you scared to Sarah?" Neither of them ever did touch my belly, but I got lots of hugs and laughs and memories that I'll cherish forever. Zachary and Sarah make it easy to be excited about being a parent.


See lots of pictures of the whole family on my website.

The Greatest Feeling

I know I just posted earlier this evening (and I won't make a habit of posting so often), but as I sit here watching all the local networks interrupt regular programming to tell us about thunderstorm and tornado warnings all over the area, I can't stop smiling. Baby is really active right now, and that little flutter-flutter-flutter is just the greatest feeling I've ever experienced. It makes me so happy that I have a big grin on my face and tears in my eyes, and since there is nobody here to see it, I just had to tell you all about it.

The Coke Effect Without the Coke

Imagine you have just chugged at least half a can of Coke (and, yes, in the black and white world I live in, the world in which I am all the way left and not even partially moderate, it has to be Coke, not Pepsi…. Blame it on the fact that I grew up drinking ice cold Coke from 16 ounce glass bottles). So you’ve just finished swallowing at least 4 ounces of bubbly Coke and your stomach is an eruption waiting to happen. You know that feeling where you have to force yourself NOT to burp, where it hurts if you don’t burp? Well, now imagine feeling like that all day long no matter what you eat or drink.

Apparently the new digestive symptoms of the second trimester have arrived. I spent the day suppressing air that seemed determined to make its way from my now much higher stomach up into my esophagus and out my mouth. Lovely.

I’m also finding that my new changing shape is creating interesting physical challenges. Last week’s 20-week OB visit showed a total weight gain of 13 pounds. You wouldn't think 13 pounds would make that big a difference in mobility, but it's where that 13 pounds is concentrated that makes everything so tricky. My entire digestive system is pushed way up and my diaphragm is compressed, and my center of gravity is shifted forward. It makes anything physical a little more challenging... on both my back and on my lungs. I’m starting to notice that I get out of breath much easier, and reaching for things or squatting for things requires more exertion than it used to. Even turning around to back out of a parking spot is quite uncomfortable. And I still have at least 15 weeks to go!

This coming weekend I’ll be on the beach in Door County building sand sculptures with my niece and nephew and showing off my stunning maternity swimsuit. (In case it’s not obvious, that is meant to be facetious.) At least out there nobody will care about the Coke effect. As a matter of fact, knowing my family, they’ll actually try to compete with me. I can’t wait!!! (And that I did not mean facetiously.)

Family Pictures

Baby's First 20-week Picture

My first views of Baby were amazing. He was laying head down on his right side, his feet bent up towards his face, one hand in front of him and the other arm constantly moving back and forth between his belly and his mouth and his forehead. Once in a while he'd put his arm up over his head and rest his elbow across his face. His little chin was moving, and he practiced swallowing, and once in a while his whole head would bob. Just as he always is around this time of day (10am), he was wide awake and kicking. The ultrasound technician had barely finished saving the first image and labeling all the parts of Baby's first picture when he kicked his foot into the center of the screen and announced himself.

"Look at that toe," the technician said. "He's got a long second toe. Now that's not from you. Who is that from?" I told her how just a month ago I was subjected to a foot comparison because my mother and my sister and my sister's daughter all have that long second toe. I have my dad's short square boxy feet.

"They say that a long second toe is a sign of intelligence," the technician said.

"That's what my mother always says, but I'm not buying it."

She told me that she had an Indian couple in once, and they said that in their culture the long second toe was a sign of sneakiness.

"That I buy."

She snapped a picture of the toe and labeled it for TT.

Grandma's Second Toe

After that the technician fell into a rhythm, talking the entire time, narrating what she was doing as she looked at the hands and feet, measured the diameter of the skull and the tummy, looked at all his little boy parts and his kidney and his bladder. He really resisted letting us see his little fingers, keeping his hands clenched tightly with only his thumb and index finger extended. But because I had a CVS which can sometimes result in missing digits if it's not done properly, she was determined to see every little bone in his hands and fingers. She even banged on my belly a few times.

"Come on Buddy. Open up and let us see those fingers."

Then just like that he fell asleep. So she abandoned the search for his little pinky and decided that while he was sleeping would be a good time to look at the heart in detail. She spent a lot of time looking at the chambers of the heart and veins and arteries running in and around the heart. She measured blood flow and checked the sizes and shapes of things from all different angles. Heartbeat 136. Total weight 14 ounces. Normal for a second trimester fetus. As he slept he eventually loosened his grip and we were able to count the little digits of all his fingers.


Just before he woke again, the technician got a great shot of his back in which you can even see his left ear and his left shoulder.

Baby's Back As He Sleeps

After we looked at baby, we did a little perusing of the rest of the system...placenta, cervix, etc. It looks like the placenta has placed itself right where the fibroid from my previous surgery was. This is not uncommon, but it means that the c-section will be little riskier than usual. The placenta might have grown into the uterine muscle which could make it difficult to separate it. If bleeding is severe during my c-section, a hysterectomy might be necessary. The perinatologist said that she doesn't want to alarm me, but it's just something I need to be aware of before I go in for my c-section. I also have some large fibroids on my cervix. All in all it looks like Barb is doing this in the nick of time. :) I feel so incredibly lucky to be able to do this. The perinatologist said that these are issues we can deal with pretty easily nowadays. 100 years ago it would have been a very different story. How truly lucky I am. But I do have to go back at 28 weeks for another ultrasound just to keep an eye on things, but we're not anticipating any problems. My little peanut is perfectly healthy and all his parts are growing just as they should.

My Favorite Time of Day

Believe it or not, my favorite time of day has become 9am-11am. And considering that's when I'm sitting at my desk in a gray-green cubicle surrounded by artificial light and white concrete block, it might be hard to understand. But it has become the time of day when Baby says hello to me. Like clockwork every morning at 9am, I first feel him kicking and moving and stretching, letting me know that he's still in there growing and bumping up against me. This morning on my way in I was cranking my PAMFA "Songs We Hate to Love" CD and singing along to Air Supply and The Partridge Family and Prince and Rick Springfield and Looking Glass (Can you figure out what song that is?), hoping to get the little guy to wake up early and give me a little kick like he did last weekend through the entire John Travolta Hairspray song and dance. But nothing. It was just me singing in the Subaru. And once again, as I sit here at my desk looking at a computer screen filled with engineering drawings and complicated chemical formulas, he kicks. "I'm here, Mom. I'm here." I love it.

19 Weeks

Yesterday ticked off another week in the 40 week journey to baby. And since I’ll be delivering by c-section early, 19 weeks is beyond the halfway point for me. Yay!!!

At 19 weeks the baby is about 6 inches long and weighs over half a pound. His arms and legs have caught up and are now in proportion to the rest of his body. His kidneys are functioning. His hair is sprouting. And this is the time when his senses start to develop…his brain is designating special areas for smell, taste, hearing, vision, and touch.

Just this week I started really having what they call “round ligament pain.” This is a strong achiness in my lower abdomen and occasionally sharp, stabbing pains on my sides. These aches and pains are caused by stretching of the muscles and ligaments that support my uterus. I’m getting used to it, but it seems every day something else about my body changes. My skin is drying out as it stretches and my stomach constantly itches. I’m also starting to get the splotchiness and skin changes that are inevitable all over my body. Lots of pretty little capillary veins popping up on my upper thighs. Fun.

Next week I go in for an extensive 20-week ultrasound and I should have some wonderful new pictures of baby to share.

(Again, not my picture at the top of this post. It's from one of the dozens of pregnancy websites that let you track your pregnancy. This is what a 19-week fetus looks like. Very exciting.)

As Requested

I'm actually pushing out a little, trying to look pregnant. Most of the time you can't tell. Or if you can tell, the people at the hardware store that watched me lift heavy wet bags of cedar mulch into my Subaru without offering to help are just jerks. :) Total weight gain to date: 11 pounds.

What I Tell Him

I talk to him. Maybe this isn’t something that I should admit to more than a few people (if that), but at night when we’re alone I talk to him. Sometimes during the day I forget that I’m pregnant until he reminds me with that familiar little tickling feeling inside, but at night in the dark before I fall asleep I know he is there. I lay in my bed with my hand on my abdomen and think about the little guy growing inside of me and the way my life is about to change. And I can’t help but talk to him. I tell him how much I love him already… sometimes even tearing up anticipating how much I am going to love him when I hold him in my arms. I tell him about all the things I hope I am able to teach him… about being kind and loving and giving and honest. I tell him about all the places I want to take him and all the discoveries I hope we’ll make together. I tell him that I’m not perfect, but that I will do the best I can to give him everything he needs.

This weekend I went out to get the mail, and a bulky manilla envelope addressed to me “and Baby Matousek” leaned against the side of the front porch. I brought it in and tore at it with my fingernails before getting out the scissors. Brooklynn watched in anticipation. The return address was from my dear friend Lisa who I met when she joined my writing group. She has been so incredibly supportive of my journey to motherhood. Last year she sent me a homemade card with a drawing of a sperm on the cover. “I know you’ll pick a good one!” she said. A few months later she sent me a delicious smelling fertility candle from Hawaii. And this past weekend she sent me a little brown box that contained something that said so much to me with just its contents. The two tiny blue Keen sandals told me that she loved me and supported me and was excited about my little boy. And they said “I know who you are and what’s important to you, and I know you will take that little boy on adventures that you will both love.”

Last night just before I drifted off to sleep, I thought of the little feet that will some day fit in those sandals and how they will likely clop along clumsily beside me as I hold his hand. “I can’t wait for all the adventures we’re going to share,” I told him, and I went to sleep excited about whatever comes next.

Breaking In and Bubble-Bubble-Bubble

Picture this: the back of a 4-season porch of a tiny neutral colored home with gorgeous perennial gardens, the purple conflowers and lavender liatris and dark red monarda all in bloom, the tall tomato plants teaming with fat Early Girls that vary in color from green to pink to bright red, a small aged cedar table dragged next to the window, a torn screen, a pair of legs dressed in black maternity capris sticking out the window, kicking as a 40-year-old pregnant woman breaks in to her own house.

I can name about ten people who would have yelled at me for doing what I did this morning, for pushing myself up and over the window sill and dragging my stomach across the wood while pulling my body forward into my family room. But I didn’t really have a choice and I actually thought I was being resourceful.

As soon as I got in to my kitchen and found my keys, I removed the spare key and buried it in the yard, so the next time Mark and Carrie (my neighbors who have the other spare key) go camping, it won’t matter if I lock myself out of my house at 6:30am. I don’t know what happened to the pregnancy hormones this morning, but I didn’t even come close to crying or raising my voice. I laughed from the second I realized I didn’t have my keys until I got in to work and told the whole story to my boss. It helps that last night was cool and dry, and the temperature on the thermostat in my house said 61 this morning. It helps that I got my AFP blood test results yesterday, and everything is peachy keen with baby… no neural tube defects. It helps that it’s Friday, and I’m spending the weekend with my favorite ten-year-old girl hiking and making cookies and being girls. It helps that as I ride in my car to work every morning, although the sunlight on the river is gorgeous and majestic eagles fly overhead with fish in their mouths, I am completely distracted and enthralled by the feeling of bubble-bubble-bubble from inside of me that reminds that he’s in there sharing a life with me already.

A Whirlwind Tour

Because the arrival of the second trimester has allowed me the energy (and the lack of nausea) to travel, I spent the weekend on a whirlwind tour of the state of Wisconsin (minus one of my favorite parts... the forests of northwestern wisconsin and Lake Superior... but we'll get to that later). The Reader's Digest Condensed Version:

Milwaukee - a visit that included fabulous homemade pizzas, kelly's famous salsa, baked salmon and lots of soccer. Imagine a tall fair-skinned woman with dark hair streaked with blonde standing on the sidelines of a soccer tournament using phrases like "frustrated" and "knew this would happen" while a shorter woman in a black maternity top and stretchy capris hides behind her sunglasses crying and saying "don't be mad at me." Can I blame it on the hormones? :) After we kissed and made up over baked salmon and fresh green beans coated in real butter, Kelly and John and the boys and I hung out and laughed at ourselves and each other. Those boys are two of my favorite boys on the planet, and even as teenagers they're enjoyable and respectful and fun to be around... even if they wash their bodies with an Axe body wash thats fragrance is called "Snake Peel." Am I ready to be a mother of a boy? :)


Green Bay - Surprise!!! Mom's friend (and, apparently, Executive Vice President in Charge of Parties) Heather threw a surprise birthday party for Mom's 65th, and Ann and I met at the Lake Express ferry in Milwaukee for the trip to GB. TT was definitely surprised, and we had a great late afternoon get-together in Heather and Wendy's backyard. I had my first taste of being a pregnant woman in public as many of Mom's family and friends told me congratulations and asked about due dates and gender and "how are you feeling?" We all thought back to when Ann worked at Mom's office and she was pregnant with Zachary.

Back at Mom's house after the party Ann unpacked a bunch of baby boy clothes she had brought from her neighbor (onesies and gowns and newborn mittens and tiny little footies and an adorable three-piece Winnie The Pooh outfit that Ann had bought her when she was pregnant) as well as several adorable outfits Ann bought me new...including a little terry cloth sweatsuit with matching orange and white striped undershirt. When she pulled the first outfit out and laid it on the carpet in front of me, I looked at the dark blue jumper with a big macho bull dozer on the front and thought "holy shit, I'm having a boy. A boy." I held up the soft, little onesies, and the texture of them brought my mind back to the hours I spent rocking a football-sized Zachary as he snuggled against my shoulder during his first month of life 6 years ago. I've been deeply in love ever since.

In the car on the way back to Milwaukee the next morning Ann went through a list that I had found in a recent pregnancy magazine.... things to buy before baby arrives. I handed her a pen and asked her to tell me what I really need and what is a waste of money. She crossed out some things (like bibs and sweaters and a baby brush and comb set) and added other things (like a Snuggli or Baby Bjorn) and told me which brand of diaper creme to buy (Balmex). "And make sure you get the nipple cream with lanolin." Lovely.

It's fun to think about preparing for baby's arrival, and I'm so glad to have Ann around. She's been really great about helping me when I ask but not overhwhelming me with unsolicited advice. I'm very lucky to have a sister who is a great mother who has been through this all ahead of me.

Milwaukee Part Two - Monday it was back to Milwaukee to drop off Annie and to meet Missy (who I tried to call Melissa but who has been Missy---or Sisaya--since the fifth grade) for a great lunch at Water Buffalo in Milwaukee's Historic Third Ward. It's amazing to me that even though our lives are quickly becoming so radically different, every time I see her we instantly connect and laugh and cry. She is "giving birth" herself as she plans the process of becoming a business owner. The next few months for her will be exciting and scary and crazy as she prepares for a major life change, and although the changes we are making are very different, the experiences seem similar. I am so excited to see what will happen to her over the next year (or years) and I know without a doubt that she and I will remain friends for a lifetime... even if it's going to be a few years before I can find the time to sit in her wine bar or she can tolerate my child(ren). We hugged goodbye on the corner of East Buffalo and Broadway in Milwaukee, and she told me to call her if I ever need her for anything. Anything. And after we spent a few minutes laughing about the way in which she was giving me directions to get back to I-94 and I started walking to my car, I thought about how I knew she meant it, how I knew that she would be there for me if I needed anything. (Well, anything except, apparently, a date for a Packer game. How is it possible that a girl like me can't even bribe people with free tickets to attend the home opener with me? Is it the pregnancy belly? :))

Johnson Creek - my first venture in to a maternity shop... on my way from Milwaukee to LaCrosse. I tried on $10 shorts and capris and summer tops after strapping on a 3-month belly pad. Wow. I'm not ready to be that big yet.


Galesville - After driving around and looking at homes in the area, I spent the night at Sarah's again. We ate chicken kabobs and steamed green beans while Zack fought daddy and got sentenced to a time out for screaming and not listening. It was nice to spend an evening talking to Sarah about what she's going through (her feet were elevated to deal with the swollen ankles) that I can expect several months from now. We paged through What to Expect When You're Expecting and read Dr. Seuss to Zak and shared stories about recent emotional breakdowns. How do you make those around you understand that you really don't have as much control over your emotions as you'd think? I told James (Sarah's husband) that there's a reason that it's funny when comedians talk about their pregnant wives. The comedy routines that talk about the bitchiness and emotional breakdowns wouldn't be funny if they weren't true. "62 more days," Sarah tells me. We're all hoping she goes earlier than that.

All in all a great weekend filled with family and friends. And now back to the reality of trying to move my entire life in 3 months.