Today, I am nine months and four days pregnant.
On Monday, Brian & I saw my doctor for our regular weekly visit. Everything looks great ... albeit late. We were given the option of inducing Thursday but chose to wait a little longer. So now little Roo, if he or she chooses not to join us sooner, has a scheduled birthday of Tuesday, May 18th.
In the midst of our appointment (while in a room with huge windows on the fifth floor of a medical complex), the tornado sirens went off. Brian and I crossed the catwalk to Wesley Hospital, grabbed some snacks at the cafeteria and waited out the storm. When a voice came over the speakers announcing that the hospital's emergency plan had been lifted, we headed back to our cars and caught sight of this beautiful rainbow. The evening was dramatic -- in a quintessentially Kansas sort of way.
So many people have told us about the severe-weather-brings-on-babies theory, but it's not holding true for us ... yet. And that's saying something considering I'm blogging during another tornado warning.
If Baby B. comes in the middle of a storm, I'm blaming it on Brian. I can't tell you how many times I've heard the story of his January birth -- weeks late ... and in the middle of a blizzard.
Meanwhile, Brian & I continue to be bombarded with advice about how to induce labor on our own: spicy food and long walks, just to name a couple suggestions.
For now, we're enjoying sleeping for eight hours a night, reading, hanging out with the pups and spending time together. This weekend, we had two dates in which we dined out and then caught a movie ("Babies" and "Iron Man 2"). We also celebrated my first Mother's Day together, and Brian surprised me with a gorgeous necklace featuring diamonds and emeralds (the May birthstone).
I am a very lucky Mommy-to-be, and one learning right off the bat how little control I actually have over this crazy thing called parenthood.
UPDATED: At about 9 p.m. Wednesday in the middle of a thunderstorm, Brian and I both thought that I was going into labor. We called my doctor's after-hours nurse line, and a woman quickly called us back. (She apologized that it wasn't sooner. She explained that she was without power and couldn't find her phone.) Nonetheless, she agreed that my symptoms indicated that it was time to head to the hospital.
At about 11 p.m., I was admitted to the labor and delivery floor. Around midnight, a doctor and nurse had assessed me and agreed that I likely was not in labor after all. At 1:30 a.m., after ample time to run some lab work and monitor baby and mommy, we were dismissed. We shared a good laugh when the nurse handed us the "Ready, Set, Wait" brochure about correctly identifying the signs of labor. All of the parenting classes we went to this spring mentioned the brochure and how we'd likely receive a copy if we found ourselves experiencing a false alarm.
Perhaps the best part of the experience was the opportunity to have a trial run. We've now had a practice shot of driving to the hospital excitedly singing The Black Eyed Peas' "I've Got a Feeling" ("Tonight's gonna be a good night!"), parking, being admitted, etc. And we both loved hearing Roo's heartbeat for nearly two hours on the fetal monitor. The doctor and nurse both laughed at how active Roo was and commented that all signs point to a happy and healthy baby.
I felt a mixture of relief and disappointment as we did the walk of shame back to Brian's truck, parked in the hospital parking garage in a "women in labor only!" spot. As a consolation prize, we stopped on the way home at the 24/7 donut shop where I celebrated by birthday earlier this spring, but they were out of donuts. Double ouch. We couldn't wait to get home, fall into bed and unwind from the crazy night.
OK, Baby B. Ready when you are.
On Monday, Brian & I saw my doctor for our regular weekly visit. Everything looks great ... albeit late. We were given the option of inducing Thursday but chose to wait a little longer. So now little Roo, if he or she chooses not to join us sooner, has a scheduled birthday of Tuesday, May 18th.
In the midst of our appointment (while in a room with huge windows on the fifth floor of a medical complex), the tornado sirens went off. Brian and I crossed the catwalk to Wesley Hospital, grabbed some snacks at the cafeteria and waited out the storm. When a voice came over the speakers announcing that the hospital's emergency plan had been lifted, we headed back to our cars and caught sight of this beautiful rainbow. The evening was dramatic -- in a quintessentially Kansas sort of way.
So many people have told us about the severe-weather-brings-on-babies theory, but it's not holding true for us ... yet. And that's saying something considering I'm blogging during another tornado warning.
If Baby B. comes in the middle of a storm, I'm blaming it on Brian. I can't tell you how many times I've heard the story of his January birth -- weeks late ... and in the middle of a blizzard.
Meanwhile, Brian & I continue to be bombarded with advice about how to induce labor on our own: spicy food and long walks, just to name a couple suggestions.
For now, we're enjoying sleeping for eight hours a night, reading, hanging out with the pups and spending time together. This weekend, we had two dates in which we dined out and then caught a movie ("Babies" and "Iron Man 2"). We also celebrated my first Mother's Day together, and Brian surprised me with a gorgeous necklace featuring diamonds and emeralds (the May birthstone).
I am a very lucky Mommy-to-be, and one learning right off the bat how little control I actually have over this crazy thing called parenthood.
UPDATED: At about 9 p.m. Wednesday in the middle of a thunderstorm, Brian and I both thought that I was going into labor. We called my doctor's after-hours nurse line, and a woman quickly called us back. (She apologized that it wasn't sooner. She explained that she was without power and couldn't find her phone.) Nonetheless, she agreed that my symptoms indicated that it was time to head to the hospital.
At about 11 p.m., I was admitted to the labor and delivery floor. Around midnight, a doctor and nurse had assessed me and agreed that I likely was not in labor after all. At 1:30 a.m., after ample time to run some lab work and monitor baby and mommy, we were dismissed. We shared a good laugh when the nurse handed us the "Ready, Set, Wait" brochure about correctly identifying the signs of labor. All of the parenting classes we went to this spring mentioned the brochure and how we'd likely receive a copy if we found ourselves experiencing a false alarm.
Perhaps the best part of the experience was the opportunity to have a trial run. We've now had a practice shot of driving to the hospital excitedly singing The Black Eyed Peas' "I've Got a Feeling" ("Tonight's gonna be a good night!"), parking, being admitted, etc. And we both loved hearing Roo's heartbeat for nearly two hours on the fetal monitor. The doctor and nurse both laughed at how active Roo was and commented that all signs point to a happy and healthy baby.
I felt a mixture of relief and disappointment as we did the walk of shame back to Brian's truck, parked in the hospital parking garage in a "women in labor only!" spot. As a consolation prize, we stopped on the way home at the 24/7 donut shop where I celebrated by birthday earlier this spring, but they were out of donuts. Double ouch. We couldn't wait to get home, fall into bed and unwind from the crazy night.
OK, Baby B. Ready when you are.
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