Bombs Over Baghdad

I’ve felt like a ticking time bomb for the past two weeks or so. I can’t get the Outkast song B.O.B. out of my head – I wake up with that crazy song in my head and it comes and goes throughout the day. Sometimes I think having the insane beat pulsing through my body is enough to make me go into labor.

Our house after the painting and planting

I’m just about 1 week away from my due date, and I’ve completely neglected this blog. So much has happened over the past couple of months. We bought our first house – yay! Jeff has been crazy busy trying to get the landscaping in shape. He’s spent every weekend out there in the Texas heat planting, mulching, mowing, trimming, fertilizing, watering – you name it. It looks sooo much better than when we first saw it on that cloudy morning in March.

We’ve unpacked, put together a crib, dresser and bookcase for the nursery, ordered a kitchen table, purchased new appliances, installed a tv, had the exterior house trim painted, and even attended childbirth and breastfeeding classes. Our weekends have been busy to say the least. I’ve managed to squeeze in pool time just about every Saturday and Sunday though, which has felt incredible on my ever-expanding belly. I could float for hours.

We’ve also been showered with tons of baby love. My sister, sister-in-law and aunt threw the most amazing and perfect baby shower in Fort Wayne way back in April. It was awesome, and it was so great to see all of my girlfriends and all of their babies.



Aunt Steph and me

Onesie from Aunt Colleen

Katie is very excited to have a baby cousin

Baby's not a true Texan without some cowboy boots!

We were even showered at both of our jobs. The food, decorations and amount of gifts at each was completely overwhelming. We haven’t even lived in Texas for a year (and I’ve only worked at my new job for about 5 months) and everyone has been so generous!

Now we’re in waiting mode. I still feel really good and don’t have any big complaints. Sure, my leg veins are still nasty and sleep is starting to get uncomfortable, but it pales in comparison to my first trimester.

I’ve given Jeff two tasks in preparation for D-Day:

1. Know how to get to the hospital. We moved so far away from where I’ll be delivering, that it’s almost comical. Almost. If I have to tell him which highway to turn on or where to go at any point during our 30+ minute drive (and that would be if we’re driving there at 2am on a Tuesday), I will go bonkers. He knows this, and I’ve caught him looking at maps and alternate routes. Whew.

2. Create my music playlist for the hospital. I want all my favs loaded and ready on our iPad. When I tell you what songs I’ve chosen, you might ask, “Mary, umm, you’re not delivering at Tao in Vegas.” I realize pushing will not feel like clubbing, but I want the option of feeling like I’m at a dance party. So, Jeff made me the most bomb-ass music playlist EVER. I tell my girlfriends at work that we could burn this thing to cds and sell it. Preggo women would love it. Artists include: Pitbull, Nicki Minaj, Britney Spears, Usher (God, I love Usher), Flo Rida, Lady Gaga, Black Eyed Peas, etc. He even threw in a few Adele songs because I just love Adele. We’ll see if I ever feel like listening to any of these songs, or if I just end up grunting and moaning at him in one quick breath to “turn-that-crap-off-before-I-die-from-a-heart-attack-of-pain-all-over-and-put-on-some-calming-ocean-enya-music.” God, please no Enya at this birth.

Speaking of Enya, I’ve had women at work ask if I’m going to try going natural or have an epidural. I give them the crazy eye and quickly ask, “Do I look like a hippie?? I’m getting the drugs.” It’s a pretty safe statement to say in Texas. They get it and appreciate it.

I’ve also become the office freak show. Apparently my department hasn’t seen a pregnant woman in years, so I’ve been getting a lot of attention. One has come in the form of an attorney asking to take my picture to send to his fiancé because he didn’t realize how big I’ve actually gotten. I sweetly stood up from my desk and obliged, but am plotting a way to get back at him at some point…

When people come to my desk to ask a question, I’ve noticed that their eyes gape and some have even gasped when I swivel around in my chair to face them. My belly must just be hanging out there like a tumor.

And most recently, everyone who sees me asks, “You’re still here??” Yes, I’m still walking (I don’t think I waddle, but maybe I am) into work each morning. When they ask when my last day is, I reply, “When you drive me to the hospital because my water just broke at work.” Some laugh, some get nervous.

38 weeks and kickin'

It’s been a pretty exciting nine months and I think we’re actually ready for Baby to show up. We’ll keep you posted!

Mama-to-be