The Baby is Out of the Bag!!

What a relief.

We spent a beautiful day in New Hope yesterday, stuffing our faces and enjoying time with family. And finally, we were able to tell Sean's brother and sisters, though unfortunately, two were by phone anyway. Grandma Diana is thrilled because she's been keeping our secret (along with Grandpa Len) for the last seven weeks, and now she can shout it from the rooftops! And the baby got it's first presents--a Big Bird doll like one Sean had when he was little, a beautiful frame with spaces for pictures of each of the first 12 months, and a baby bootie bank with a crisp $20 from Stef's dad. Today I'll email this link to as many people as possible, and hopefully they will all take a look at The Littlest Wilson and catch up on all the fascinating stuff that I've been writing about and write comments and VOTE on the sex of the baby. I know for sure that Derek can't wait to read all about my doctor's appointments and Fetal Nuchal Translucency...

The first thing everyone asks when we tell them we're expecting is "How far along are you?" I guess there are two schools of thought when it comes to breaking baby news. Either you tell everyone you know as soon as you find out, whether that be at five weeks or twelve, or you wait until you're out of the woods, which is commonly known to be after the first trimester. Turns out that Sean is from the former school, and I, the latter. I made the decision to tell my bosses at work much earlier than I would have liked, but in an effort to explain why I had been acting so strangely as of late (tired all the time, cranky, peeing every two minutes, and my memory and ability to multi task right out the window). And we told specific people like our moms and dads and siblings and grandparents and closest friends as soon as we reasonably could. But it was really important to me to be able to wait to make it "public" until now (and I'm not even technically in my second trimester yet, but we just couldn't keep it to ourselves any longer!).

The more I think about it, the more interesting the difference in the two ways of thinking seems to me. Stef (Grandma D's fiance, henceforth known as Papou Stef) said "the Greeks don't tell anyone till after three months, and after the baby's born, no one comes to visit unless they're specifically invited until the kid is a few months old." There's a profound regard for the sanctity of the new family, almost like intruding would burst a protective bubble. Of course, that only applies to non-family! It's funny because I always thought of it as a personal preference thing, but I'm sure he's right--it's got more to do with culture, and that's just how my family was. Even my mom's side, which is more Jewish than anything, subscribes to that way of thinking, but then my Grandma (and consequently, my mom) always had a really intense respect for privacy and a person's right to share what they want to share when they want to share it.

For me, there is a line (albeit fine, and seemingly arbitrary to others) between what I feel comfortable sharing and what I don't. Sean doesn't get it sometimes and thinks I'm just really sensitive, and I admit that sometimes I do go a little overboard. If someone asks me a question that I'm not comfortable answering, I'd think it was an inappropriate question, whereas someone who doesn't mind sharing that kind of information would think it was perfectly fine. It's a really hard thing to gage, so as a rule, I err on the side of caution. For example, I always felt comfortable sharing that Sean and I want kids...but not whether we were trying for kids. I feel comfortable discussing the emotions that are involved in trying to conceive in vague terms, but I feel really uncomfortable when someone asks me how long it took Sean and me to get pregnant, and I would never ask anyone else that question. I might be more sensitive to that than the average person, but what those uncomfortable situations have reinforced for me is that you just never know. You never know what a person's comfort level is, and you never know what private difficulties they're dealing with.

Luckily, we're beyond all that! Now I just have to get comfortable with people touching my belly...

Something's Going On In There...

I was taking a shower yesterday and bent over to shave my leg (oooh, steamy!) when something blog-worthy happened: I felt something in my belly! Not movement--it's way too early for that--but a thing. A mass. A something that wasn't there before. It was the strangest feeling. I straightened back up, bent over again, straightened up, bent over a few more times to make sure it wasn't a fleeting feeling (read: indigestion. Thank you, progesterone). It didn't go away. And lo and behold, it's still here today. I have an inkling that this is just the beginning.

When Sean came home last night, I tried to explain it to him. The only way I could think to describe it is that, on a daily basis, I never really think about exactly what is going on inside of my abdomen. The only time that I'm aware of my stomach, for example, is when I have a stomach ache; my diaphragm, when I have hiccups; my uterus, when I have cramps (whooohoo! no more!). Over the past month or so, I've basically just felt a constant state of uncomfortable fullness, like after Thanksgiving dinner. But it hasn't been such that I've been aware of any specific, particular changes going on in there, and I certainly haven't "felt pregnant." Sure, I stopped being able to suck in my stomach at all, and then it actually started sticking out...but it just felt and looked like I'd had "an extra big meal with lots of salt and liquor" (according to JLRB!).

Today, it's different. That feeling in the shower? That was actually being able to feel my growing womb. How come no one told me about this? I know it should have been a foregone conclusion, but let me assure you, it was not. Everyone told me about the amazing rush of relief and joy we'd feel when we heard the heartbeat for the first time, confirming that there really was a baby in there (that was true), and that finding out the sex of the baby would be another of those mind blowing, life changing experiences. And it should seem absolutely obvious that at some point along the way, I should actually being to feel the thing that's growing inside of me.

But it wasn't. It was a total surprise. And made me laugh out loud! I still don't really "feel pregnant," but at least this is one step closer.

Today we go to New Hope to spend the day with Sean's family. It's gorgeous--breezy and sunny and a little cool. After today, the baby will officially be out of the bag.

11 Weeks and Counting...

Ok, so once again my expectations for my most recent doctor's appointment were not met. Dammit! I think I've learned the lesson though, which is simply not to have expectations. Everyone's doctor is different and everyone's pregnancy is different, and I'll know better next time around I suppose, blah blah blah. Still, at this stage in the game when I really don't 'feel pregnant' yet, I'm totally reliant on the pictures of what in heck is going on inside of my body. And while pictures of strangers' uteruses (uteri?) are helpful from a logical standpoint, they're just not doing it for the illogical side of me (which, these days, is approximately 99.8% of myself). Hence the stock photo of some strange fetus in some strange womb in the 11th week, which is where Lil' B is now. It somehow reminds me of the Japanese flag. Cute, but not as cute as ours. This week you are to note the very well developed joints, which allow the baby to do somersaults and bounce around off the walls of the sac (no, I am not making this up), the budding fingernail beds (nails come next week), and that the eyes are moving around to the front of the head and the spine is straightening. Woohoo! Now that's progress. And it seems to be a little more than two inches long, or about the size of my engagement ring (just kidding). I'm looking around trying to find something comparable and I don't seem to own anything that's two inches long. How odd. Oh wait! My thumb is a little more than two inches from just above the first joint. Cool. Thumb Baby.

I'm exaggerating about the level of disappointment with my doctor's appointment. While it's true that I was hoping for an ultrasound and didn't get one (hmph!), otherwise it went really well. I wish Sean had been there to meet the doctor, who this time was Dr. Pat Robinson (she works with Dr. Weinstein and I'll see both docs throughout the pregnancy). Dr. Robinson said that they deliver more than 200 babies a year and only about two are delivered by the stand-by docs ("both boys," she said) when she and Dr. Weinstein are off for the Jewish holidays. Are doctors really allowed to take holidays? Aside from this apparent slacker mentality, she was really great--fabulous bedside manner, really took time with me to talk about concerns and take my history, and seemed otherwise like a perfectly normal person, which is always good.

The reason I didn't get an ultrasound this visit has something to do with the fact that the FNT (Fetal Nuchal Translucency test) has to be done at the hospital...I'm not sure why. The con of that is that it required making yet another appointment which won't be for another week and a half (optimal timing for the test is 13 weeks), but the pro is that we get to check out Hackensack University Medical Center, where we'll be having the kid.

Also disappointing this week is that we weren't able to go down the shore with Sean's family after all. When he returned from AZ he had hours and hours of preparation for the Dallas trip (where he is now), so there was just no way. More disappointing than not being at the beach though is the fact that we now have to wait another week to tell Eva, Courtney and Derek. We'll go down to New Hope next weekend for a cookout though, and tell them then. Can't wait till Sean is home tonight--should be the last trip for a while!

Oh--and in other news, Sadie is taking her role of preparing us for parenthood very seriously. Yesterday she ate half of a cake and a loaf of very expensive organic flax seed bread. Right off the counter. Better her than me, but still. She then proceeded to lose most of the cake right ON the new silk drapes in the office/baby's room. That will teach me.