Oh the Suspense

It's killing me. I'm ready to find out if this baby is a boy or girl and also ready for him/her to make his/her kicking debut (and stop having to use boy/girl, him/her, his/her)! Things have just been pretty quiet and non-eventful lately. Too quiet and non-eventful. I never experienced another hot flash, my baby belly is making its appearance rather slowly, and I'm still not craving anything too crazy...although I did just order a salad, sushi roll (cooked of course) and french fries for dinner the other night (they just all sounded good), and a Milky Way fun size continues to make it into my lunch each day.

Gender. Nearly three out of four people say girl. Not for any reason in particular but rather that they just look at me and see girl. I thought everyone would guess boy since "Pietrini's only have boys," but not so much. And I think they just about have me convinced. All I really have to go off of is what people say and any old wives tales I'm experiencing, which seem to point more toward girl. This mama really has no idea. No intuition. No gut feeling. No "I just know."

I don't have the faintest clue if this baby is a boy or girl. 

And my dream last night didn't give me any clarity. I went to get my ultrasound while Seth went somewhere else to get my ultrasound (not sure how that works, but hey, this is a dream). Mine showed that I am going to have a girl but Seth's showed I'm going to have a boy. 

Could this mean twins? Kidding.

I think about my baby constantly; more than I ever would have expected. But all I picture is a little body with a blurred face. I'm ready to picture pink or blue, dolls or trucks, cheerleading or football, coffee or video games.

Boys and girls are just so different. (Super insightful, huh?) So my thoughts are going to just be so different. And actually, I don't really know what they are going to be like once I know because I just can't really picture one or the other at this point.

Baby, what are you (you know what I mean)? Are you even in there? A jab or poke would be nice. I would also settle for a flutter.

Reflections

Just a month ago, I began writing a post (that I didn't complete or publish) about how I don't feel like a mom yet. Not a mom in the sense of having children, taking care of them, and making sure they make it to the bus stop on time, but a deeper meaning to being a mom. But something has changed. Or rather developed. I have become a mom in the sense of having attained a sort of deep concern for my child. A sort of deep worry. A deep love. That if something were ever to happen to him/her, I don't know what I would do. 

I think about him/her struggling with something in life, a sickness, a limitation. All I want to do is make it alright. To take away any physical or emotional hardship that would come upon my child's life and be able to avoid any hurt that I would feel in turn. Because I can only imagine the hurt a mother must feel, that I'll feel, when we have no choice but to watch what is happening and there may be little I can do. Sometimes even when it may even be for their own good.

Recently, I had many instances of being deeply saddened when reflecting upon so many mothers that have experienced miscarriage, or for someone like my sister, who delivered Elora at 26.5 weeks not knowing if she would see her first birthday. (She celebrates her first May 10th!)  I realize that in no way can I fully empathize with these women, but I now carry a child that I can only hope and pray will live to see a day, a year, 12 years, 90 years in this world.

I love my baby in a way that I have never loved someone or something. And we haven't even met. But there is something remarkable and unique about having baby living inside me. Nothing will ever be mine, nothing will ever be Seth's, quite like this baby inside. 

But even so, I am at rest if I should face the sorrow of something ever happening to this baby of mine. The LORD is near to the brokenhearted and saves the crushed in spirit (Psalms 34:18). I consider this baby a gift; one that I have been entrusted with. And I can't hold my child with a clinched fist, either in life or out of life this life. So I hold this baby with open hands lifted high and pray I can just be the best mom I can be and rejoice in the assurance that "all things work together for good" (not neglecting the second part) "to them that love God, to them who are the called according to his purpose" (Romans 8:28).

Hot Flashes: Not Just for Menopausal Women

On the plane back from a business trip to San Francisco this past weekend, I experienced a pregnancy symptom that I never knew existed: hot flashes. I didn't really know what was happening at the time. Was I getting sick? How long is this going to last? Should I prod the old man sitting next to me to get out of the way so I can make a beeline to the bathroom? Would I make it to the bathroom?

I felt too weak to do any more than throw off my jacket and blanket and try of fan off with my shirt. It's typical that I am freezing on planes but found myself literally perspiring all over. I took a napkin across my forehead, wiping off a good amount of collected moisture.

Thankfully this whole escapade only lasted a few minutes and hasn't repeated itself since. Once it was all over I knew what had just happened. I had a hot flash. Wait, doesn't that only happen to women in menopause? Isn't menopause quite the opposite of my current condition? 

At the OB on Monday the doctor confirmed that hot flashes are normal and most typical between 14 and 20 weeks (fluctuating hormones, drop in estrogen levels, yada yada). And I am one of the lucky 10 percent. 

(Everything went well at the doctor. Seth heard the heartbeat for the first time. 160 BPM, movin' and better than any birthday gift!)

On another note, I am starting to not feel like this so much anymore:

Baby's first celebrity photo op

And the Nesting Begins

This past Saturday I spent the morning/afternoon cleaning out hall closet for Baby P. Some may call it nesting, I call it taking advantage of a cleaning mood and feeling well.

One of the FAQ I failed to include on my last post is about whether a move in is our near future. A move is definitely in the future, but not as near as some would think considering we're having a baby and we don't exactly have a spare bedroom. So what is the plan you ask? For now, the kid will be sleeping in our room. 

The real root of the move debate is whether I will work or not once I have the baby. That decision will affect our need to live close to Grandma P, or open up the option to move closer to Seth's work and church. The answer right now is we don't know. It's no secret that I have pretty sweet job traveling the world, but not only that, I really love what I do. And will staying at home make me an annoying wife when Seth comes in the door because I have been craving adult interaction and conversation all day? Or, will I simply not be able to handle leaving my baby everyday for (sigh) work. Case closed.

I don't know if I'll just try it and see to make the decision, or if there something God has to say about the debate...or rather more probable what He has to say about our personal debate. Examining our own selfishness (which can go either way), and consider what's best for our baby. I welcome your wisdom.

Q&A About Baby Pietrini

Most commonly asked question: Are you going to find out the gender? This surprised me a bit. I expected "How are you feeling?" to be number one.

Are we going to find out the gender? Yes, we will/hope to find out around April 20.

So, how have I been feeling? In the first few weeks I felt a bit of cramping, and the weeks after that I only experienced short sickness in the evening. As mentioned in my February 2nd post, I was hardly feeling any sickness that I was worried something was wrong. I think pregnancy sickness can be both a blessing and a curse. Blessing in that its indicative of a healthy pregnancy and provides assurance, and a curse in the sense that I'm sure any sick pregnant woman can tell you about. The past three weeks I have been fighting a cold/cough/sore throat. And in general, it seems that my nose hasn't stopped running this entire pregnancy.

Are we hoping for a boy or a girl? It's no secret that Seth wants a boy, but that doesn't mean we have to have a boy the first go at it. I want both, so it really doesn't matter to me. But I do have to say I like thought of an oldest brother. 

I recently read a blog belonging to a friend of a friend who captured so well how I was truely feeling about this subject, as well as give me right perspective. The reason I want a boy first - besides the fact that I would love to watch him play football,  see him protect his little sister, and we have a name picked out for a boy - besides all that, I know that Seth wants a boy and I just want the pressure to be off the first time around.

Then, I was reminded of this: God doesn't give us what WE want; He gives us HE wants according to HIS purposes. This isn't about us, or rather me, but about God making this baby the way he/she is supposed to be. Who the baby is made to be!

Thank you for your promises Lord!

The Word is Out

Me Lately

I'm emotional. The drive to work the other day confirmed it. I was simply thinking back to a time I observed a teenage boy thanking an 80-year-old man wearing a veterans hat for his service. I got legitimately teary eyed. Or this past weekend. My girlfriends played a simple prank on me that my car was being towed and I got truly (and embarrassingly) upset. I can normally laugh that kind of thing off. And then there's The Vow. There is probably no worse movie currently out in theaters for a pregnant woman to watch. The movie is totally worthy of a cry or two, but throughout the entire thing? Yes, that was me. Any moment worthy of emotion received mine in the form of a downpour.

I'm a picky eater. I'm worse than Garfield. But at least Garfield knows what he wants to eat. Sometimes I can't even pinpoint what exactly I want but once I do, I have to have it. On Sunday it was mac and cheese. Kraft. Not the normal kind. The kind with shapes. So for the second time I took advantage of my condition and my darling husbands willingness, although reluctant, to make the trip to the store to buy some. "Get three boxes please." 

And then there is the daily 9:00 p.m. night sickness. It seems that only food will remedy the upset stomach, but after searching through the refrigerator and cupboards multiple times, nothing will do.

Warning. Not normal. There is still puppy chow left over from the weekend. My love of chocolate has subsided.

I dream about exactly what's on my mind. A few weeks ago, that meant two in which I miscarried and held the tiny, nearly unformed body in the palm of my hand. A few days ago it was an old acquaintance posting about my pregnancy on Facebook before I was ready to announce. I couldn't get the Internet to work to erase her comment. When I tried to call her, my fingers were unable to dial her number correctly. And in yesterday's dream, a friend at church told me she was 12 weeks pregnant. "Due on August 31?" I asked (This was actually what I thought my original due date was). "August 27," she corrected. I then informed her I too was also pregnant and she proceeded to tell everyone, even with the youth group kids around. 


Today I actually plan to tell the youth group leaders, but wait until next week to tell the students.

I'm getting anxious. I just want to tell the WORLD! While Seth and I are starting to tell friends, and the fact that I was able to enjoy a particularly fun case of telling a couple of college gal pals this past weekend, we're still keeping the secret from our coworkers. Ya know, those people you actually see day in and day out. So very soon (about a week), I will be able to stop asking Seth whether I look pregnant or not before I leave in the morning with my shirt tucked in. Can't wait!