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Yesterday marked 100 days to go in this pregnancy. That’s IF I deliver on my due date, which we all know damn well ain’t gonna happen. But the countdown is under way!

To mark this fabulous occasion, yesterday Jeff was able to feel the baby for the first time!!

Our little one has been quite the thumper, and in the last few days has gotten big enough that I can feel him in  more than one place at a time, and I can see the big thumps right though my skin.  I can feel him almost all day, but especially when I’m sitting around, or laying down reading before I go to bed.

Yesterday, Jeff and I were in bed after the alarm (I was going to start prenatal yoga yesterday, but the garage door broke, and then we needed to get a tire fixed, and it just didn’t happen.  Next week, hopefully…) and the little one was kicking up quite a ruckus.  I put Jeff’s hand right where the action was, and he was finally able to feel his son kick!

It was amazing.  I’ve been able to feel this little guy for about 10 weeks now, and it’s made me sad that the Daddy hasn’t been able to share in that joy.  Now he can feel his son, and we are starting to bond as a little family.

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I started feeling the baby move at about 15 weeks, a bit earlier than expected.  Sarah described feeling Alice kick for the first time as if pineapple were falling into semi-solid Jell-O.  That’s not at all what I felt – I felt like I had swallowed goldfish and they were squirming around in there (note:  I have not done this.  Ever.  Ew.)

A few weeks later Jeff and I were watching a movie, and I felt the pineapple feeling.  Now I knew what Sarah was talking about – I had just felt Little Sawatdee a bit before he was strong enough to make a solid motion like that.

I only had about a day where I had the wiggling and the pineapple, and then the wiggling went away.  Now, even the pineapple has gone away, and what I am feeling is definitely kicking and poking.  It gets stronger every day.

And it makes me a little sad.  I miss the wiggling.  Feeling for the wiggling every day was the first time that I really felt like I had someone in there -like I was really pregnant.  Although I’d “known” I was pregnant for weeks, the wiggling made it seem real.

And now, he’s too strong to wiggle, and there is real kicking.  It means that he is growing and changing, and becoming closer to who I will meet on the outside. Even though I mourn the wiggling, the kicking just means that he is growing up.  Already.  I thought that I’d be able to wait until after he was born to miss each stage as the new one comes along.

It’s so weird to think that I will never, ever be as close to my son as we are right now – we are literally inhabiting one body.  I can feel his movement, and he can hear my every heartbeat.  But I have so little information about him.  I don’t know what he looks like, or what his temprament is going to be, or even his birthday.  As close as we are, we are still strangers.

Here is what I do know:

*He knows his daddy.  I wake up for a while in the morning when Jeff gets home from work, and as soon as our boy hears Daddy’s voice, he goes nuts.  I am hoping that Jeff will soon be able to feel him.  When he really gets going, I can see my stomach move, but as soon as Jeff puts his hand on me, he stops, leading me to beleive that our  boy is shy.

*He, like his Mama, hates pants.  Whenver I wear something with a waist band, he kicks all around the band trying to get it off him.  Adorable.

*He likes sugar. After my morning waffles, I can feel him boogey in there until the sugar wears off.

*He is already loved, and a part of our family.  Every night, before he goes to work, Jeff says, “Good night, little _____!” (You thought I was going to slip there, didn’t you?  Totally not telling the name!) When he tells me he loves me, he adds, “And our little baby, too.”

*He cannot come soon enough.  I have been waiting my entire life to meet him, and we still have three months to go….

Since we found out we were pregnant, having a baby has seemed more like an abstraction than an absolute reality.  Sure, we’re picking out colors for the room, and Grandma Sekhon has gone on her first shopping spree for our boy, but it hasn’t seemed quite real yet.  I’m sure it won’t until I’ve been home with him for a few weeks and realize that no one is coming to get him and this tiny little thing is depending on Jeff and I for his very survival.

Oy.

For so long, I didn’t even feel pregnant.  I mean, I was getting fat – I haven’t been able to button my jeans since about six weeks – but I’ve gotten fat before.   Sure, it’s a different kind of fat.  When I lean up against sink to get something, this fat doesn’t move out of the way.  Right, because it’s not fat.  It’s kid.  My kid.

About 16 weeks, I felt some movement one night, while Jeff and I were lying in bed watching movies (let me tell you, the portable DVD player that Mom and OB got me for hospital visits has been genius for watching movies in the winter, when it’s too cold to sit downstairs on the couch!).  I didn’t feel much for a few more weeks, but since about 19, I’ve been feeling movement every day.  We even have  a pattern.  Like Mommy and Daddy, our little one seems to be a night person.  Thank goodness.  Does this mean that he’ll sleep till 10 every morning?

And then, last week, we finally had a gender.  We have not a baby, but a son.  A little boy to carry on the Sekhon name, a boy that will be a blend of the both of us, and a foil for his girl cousin.  I had always expected that I would have a girl, and have been surprised with myself to find that I am thrilled to be having a boy.

I’m also surprised that, although Jeff and I would consider ourselves to be gender-neutral parents, how much this knowledge has changed our discussions about parenting.  My first thought at the ultrasound, when we saw a little penis was “One of us is going to have to learn to play catch”.  Now we aren’t talking about how old the kid will be before I can teach him/her to knit, but whether we can afford to be hockey parents.  Oddly, I fully intend to teach my boy to knit, and if our girl had wanted to play hockey, we’d have found a way to make it happen.  But that one little appendage has totally changed our discussions, and made us make lots of assumptions.

Suddenly, through movement and knowledge of penis-bearing, I have finally realised that we are having a baby.  And that I will give birth to this child, and we will take him home, and take care of him, and put him in the bedroom we’ve lovingly created (once we get around to that) and dress him in the clothes that Grandma bought him, and watch him grow up and become his own person.  For the last four months, we have based all of our decisions with the knowledge of this little person, and we will continue to do so for at least the next four months and 18 years.   And we know that, no matter how much we talk about how we want to parent, and how we don’t want to saddle our kid with our baggage, we will encounter things we have never considered, and we will screw our kid up in a new and innovative way.

As I told my little boy today, when his Daddy and I were talking, we may not do it all right, but at least your parents will try their best.

We’re already doing our best.  And it already doesn’t seem like enough for all the love we feel for this child.

It’s a BOY!!!!!

A full body shot of our little man

A full body shot of our little man

Behold My Penis!

Behold My Penis!

I'm already as cute as my Daddy

I'm already as cute as my Daddy

Another penis shot.  I think the ultrasound tech was impressed.

Another penis shot. I think the ultrasound tech was impressed.

Another full body shot.

Another full body shot.

Legs all stretched out.  Stretch while you can, kid - those days are numbered!

Legs all stretched out. Stretch while you can, kid - those days are numbered!

I'm not entirely sure what this is supposed to be.  I'm willing to entertain guesses...

I'm not entirely sure what this is supposed to be. I'm willing to entertain guesses...

Today was our 20 week ultrasound, which we schedule for our second wedding anniversary.  We’ve been joking that we are never going to beat this for our anniversary, and it was even better than we imagined.  We’ve spent most of the day alternately laughing and crying with joy.  I know I keep saying this, but I don’t know how we are going to wait another 20 weeks (at least!) for our little guy to join us.

In bonus news:  we have another ultrasound at 28 weeks!!

Last Saturday, Jeff and I babysat our niece, Sydney, while her parents were at the Gophers game.  (We aren’t going to talk about the game.  It didn’t make Mike a happy fan.)

1272009-001Alison left us a schedule with Sydney’s routine, and she followed it almost to the minute, which was actually kind of funny.  It was also a bummer, because her frequent, but short, napping schedule didn’t leave us enough time for things like….

Snuggling with Uncle Jeff…

1272009-002Playing in her bouncy thing.  We came while she was having a nap, and this was the time where she was evaluating just what had gone on.  The food was right, the house was familiar, but the people weren’t quite as she remembered….

And then it was time for another nap.  1272009-007Auntie Di rocked her to sleep.

It was fun.  Sydney is getting so big, and her personality is really starting to show through.  She’s getting really good at grabbing.  I think that she’s going to be right handed – she grabbed with her right hand a lot, and when she was in the bouncy, her left arm was down while she played with stuff with her right.  Time will tell….

I’ve been  feeling the baby move off and on for the last couple of weeks, but that day the kid went WILD.  I think there was some cousin to cousin communication going on!  I’d never felt so much activity.

But a couple of days later, it seemed as if it wasn’t just cousin love going on.  Christy, Gwen and I stopped over at Sarah’s and I got to have a quick snuggle with Alice.  After I handed her back to Sarah, this is what she did:

image054Not even born, and the kid’s already making friends.

2224395967_9bd7e1966a1(Please, NFL, do not charge me a royalty for daring to use your actual name in a public place.)

For the record, I could care less about football.  I do watch it with my sweetie, cause he likes it, and provide the color commentary.  Mostly snarky.

What I do like is crystal.

Last January, a mere year ago, my beloved and I were on our belated honeymoon to Ireland.  We spent a day in Waterford and toured the factory that makes the shiniest, most wonderful things in the world.

One of the things that surprised us the most was how casual our tour guide was about letting us handle priceless works of art.  Like in one of the work rooms, when she handed Jeff the SuperBowl trophy.  Yep, that’s it.  Right there in his hands.

Apparently, when something important it made, there are two copies made.  The SuperBowl trophy is a traveling one – the team that wins has to pass it on to the next team that wins.  The one Jeff is holding is the “second’ trophy.  If the original is ever lost/broken/whatever, this is what will be sent in it’s place, and used to make another second.

What is new every year is the top part of the decanter.  Every year, Waterford makes two tops – one for each of the teams that is playing – and fits them within this trophy.  Then they are sent out, and whoever wins the SuperBowl gets their top, and I believe the other one is destroyed.

I don’t know who will win tomorrow.  Heck, I’m not even sure who’s playing.  And the only reason I care about what time the game starts is because there is an hour-long episode of The Office on afterwards.  But it makes me glad in my heart to know that we got to see and touch this beautiful piece, and that the winners will get to appreciate it for a year with their very own engraved topper.

(And, if the don’t appreciate it, they can send it to me for the year for safe-keeping.)

I have thought, since Jeff and I started dating, that he has had the bum end of the relationship deal.  Basically, he has to deal with me.  Moody, chronically ill, posessing of cats.  For the last three and a half years, he has taken whatever comes with ease and grace, and always, always, unconditional love and support (in fact, the day I found out I had to go on disability from work, I came home to find that he’d made me a card promising to support me forever).

I am truly blessed, and lucky to have found the best husband ever.

Never has this been more apparent than in the month since we found out we were pregnant.  As those of you that have lived through the blessed state called The First Trimester, you know it’s no fun. Hell, *I* don’t want to be around me.  The moody, the constant eating, the laying on the couch all day (let me take a minute to send a shout out to the women that have managed to hold a full time job during the first trimester.  It’s a challenge to bathe every day – I don’t know how you ladies did it!).  He’s been endlessly patient, bringing me things to make me feel better, not eating the ice cream that I bring home. He’s been learning to cook so that he can make dinner on the days I’m not up to it, and learning to make healthy meals, not the crap in a box that you microwave from a box that he lived on before I came around (anyone want to tell me how the man made it to age 37 without scurvy??).

He’s been equally good at dealing with the pregnancy emotional roller coaster.  I’d like to think that it hasn’t been as bad as I was fearing that it would be – I barely cry, and I haven’t punched anyone on the street yet.  Like with PMS, I find that once I can tell myself that it’s hormones and not the raving assholes of the world making me grumpy, it’s easier to control.  But there are definitely times that are challenging, and they mostly come from not finding anything cute to wear (over size 12 AND pregnant – I’m just gonna wrap a sheet around me and call it good), and the feeling that I’m not being a productive human being because all I do is lay on the couch all day.

I’ve been off work for about six months now, and this is the first time I’ve been bored.  For the first few months I was delighted to have the days to myself and do stuff around the house, and be able to spend time with Sarah on maternity leave and my other friends when I could.  I got to know some of my neighbors.  I got to spend more quality, if not quantity, time with my hubby, since our time spend together wasn’t about getting stuff done – I could do that stuff during the day while he sleeps.  And I got to start my Awesome Little Job, get out of the house a few hours a week, and talk to other crafty people.  All good.

In the last few days, I’ve started to get bored.  And it’s mostly because I’m too tired to really do anything.  Knitting and sewing require sitting up, which is just too much effort.  Reading is slightly less effort, but eventually tiring.  Forget organizing the basement, which was on my list of things to do this winter.  That’s totally out until after the first trimester.  I didn’t even go to my Awesome Little Job once this week because I was too tired (and also had a bit of a cold that I didn’t want to spread around.  Nothing worse than a clerk snotting all over your yarn).

I finally broke down and told Jeff yesterday that I was bored with myself.  My solution was to get cable – I’m still sitting on my ass, but can watch something more quality than Judge Joe Brown (don’t get me wrong – I love the judge shows, but there are only so many one can take in a week).

Not having cable is kind of a big deal in my house – we haven’t had it in years, and when we have had it, we are completely addicted to TV.  We don’t even like TV.  We have gone for months at a time without turning it on – except for during Survivor season.  Jeff loves that show and has got me sucked into it, too.  (Yay, Bob!)  But, because he knew that I was pretty anti-TV when we were dating, he didn’t even tell me he liked Survivor, and missed an entire season of it.  (That’s love, y’all)

That all being said, I’ll go ahead and admit that I watch TV after nine at night now while I’m knitting, and Jeff has become a secret CNN junkie (we have the basic 8 channel local cable to get cheap internet).  He thinks I don’t know, but every time I turn the TV on, it’s turned to CNN.  Silly sweetie.

So, yesterday I told my beloved that I am bored, and want cable.  He didn’t go for that, but had all sorts of suggestions at hand.  For one, maybe we should get some games that we can play together.  Maybe I’d like to get into crossword puzzles.  And, for the win, he thinks I should get a Nintendo DS because he heard about all these trivia and brain-teaser games that you can get for it.

This was quite a novel idea.  Neither of us has owned a game system since my faux Atari 2600 in the early 80s.  I still think that Super Breakout is the best game ever.  I did get hooked into the Sims a few years ago, but then my computer started sucking and it was too irritating to play.

We did a bit of research, and they are not terribly expensive, nor are the games.  And the games looked fun.  I was kind of excited.

So, last night, my sweetie took me out shopping – we hit Irish on Grand to try to replace my wedding ring (I’m allergic to my original, but seem to be ok with silver.  They didn’t have the right size – I’ll get it after Xmas) and get Irish bacon for our Xmas morning breakfast.  We hit the craft store to see if I could get an interchangeable needle set (they were out) because I hate the ones I bought last month.  To the grocery, to Kohl’s to see if I could get longer t-shirts (they had NOTHING – their maternity section was smaller than my closet.  In my 1914 house. Do the math.)  And then to Best Buy to get me my very own Nintendo DS.

(Jeff just came down from sleeping today and I told him that I was writing a blog entry about how wonderful he is.  He replied that I”m more wonderful.  I told him he’d have to write his own damn blog entry.)

We didn’t end up getting any games last night, cause Best Buy seemed to be really overpriced, and I saw much cheaper online.  When I Twittered last night that I had gotten the DS, Sarah replied that they have Professor Layton, which is the game that got Jeff interested in getting me one in the first place.  I didn’t even know they had a DS – isn’t that funny?

I’ll keep you posed on how I learn to game, and how addicted I get.  At least I’ll be less bored, all thanks to my wonderful hubby.