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.

Jacked Up in the City

So I was Google Talking with my brother ("Unka Ern") the other day about the likelihood of us moving to Ohio in the foreseeable future (not calculable at the moment). I told him that we're open to anything that comes our way but that I'd also be happy to stay right where we are until the kid's a toddler. To this he replied, "Well, if you stay in the Hoboken area, the kid can say 'I was jacked up in The City'...that's better than 'I was raised on the mean streets of Cleveland Heights.'"

A double-whammy: classic Papou followed by a quintessential dadism.

Then I got an email from my dad after he read the blog for the first time. His email-- and I can say with certainty that it would have been almost exactly the same even had he not just read the "Two Thing Day" posting-- was riddled with some of the best! I can't believe I forgot these zingers:

"stinker"
"fine combed tooth"
"youthenisms"
"foldo" (as in, "I'm hungry. I'm gonna go make a foldo.")
"halfies" (as in, "I just made a foldo. Wanna go halfies?")
"charged up" (as in, "you're gonna get charged up, you're gonna pile it up, and they're gonna capture you!"

Holy smokes. This kid doesn't stand a chance.

A Two-Thing Day

My dad is full of Lamprosisms, some that he's coined and some that were made famous by Papou (his dad), but all of which have become a part of my family's vocabulary and are used in casual conversation as though other people might actually understand what they mean. Sometimes the context of the expression belies the meaning (e.g. "Bear ate the last of the smokies and Jess was so pissed, she had a serious heenie! I thought she was gonna blow..."). Other times, the meaning is totally lost on the uninitiated.

I had this experience the other day. I was soooooo tired! I was so tired, I wanted to cry, and I had just gotten to work. I must have been pouting or slamming cash drawers or something, because someone asked me what's "wrong" (a euphemism for "crawled up your ass and died") and I said with an obnoxiously loud sigh, "It's a two-thing day. That's all."

A two-thing day?

Yes. A two-thing day. And it was! I had to go to work AND walk the dog! A prospect that, in my delicate condition, seemed utterly overwhelming. I'm not exaggerating when I say that I was on the verge of tears because of it, either. Poor Sean, because of all months, this month he's out of town three weeks out of four and he feels terrible for it. Anyway, the reasons for the sentiment are beside the point. It's the expression that I'm talking about. And it's such a good one. There really was no other way that I could communicate what I was feeling. "I'm tired" wouldn't have done it, nor would "Sean's out of town so I have to leave to walk the dog," nor would "uh, I'm pregnant, stupid." It was a two-thing day, and that's all there was to it.

The same goes for the aforementioned "heenie" or "heanie" as it is alternately spelled (my dad, as the conceiver of some of these phrases and a ghastly speller has a tendency to change their phonetic spelling regularly), and for the following:

"faat" (fot)
"lay dead"
"get the marmalade"
"gizminkus"
"going halfies"
"who you gonna tell?"
"hotter than Kelsey's nuts"
"how'd I know that? huh?"
"you're the best one"
"what are you waiting for, an invitation?"
answering a phone call with "Telephone?" instead of "hello"

Then there are other Papouisms that were just plain silly. My favorite was always the cheer he insisted that he and his friends actually used back in the day, that goes like this:

"Ra ra ree!
Kick 'em in the knee!
Ra ra rass!
Kick 'em in the....
other knee!"

That one always made me laugh. As did the telling of the only two dreams the man apparently ever had in his life. One was about falling off a very high cliff, and when he woke up, he was on the floor. (Bah-dum-dum.) The other was about eating the biggest, most delicious and fluffy marshmallow! And when he woke up, his pillow was gone. (Thanks folks...I'll be here all night. Try the veal.)

The list really could be a mile long. But a lot is in the delivery, so admittedly there's something lost here on the page. In almost every case, though, the phrase was born of necessity and really is the only way to express that particular sentiment. Funny how so much of the way my family feels has a Yonkers accent. Even my mom, The Jewess (it was affectionate coming from my Papou. Jesus was a Jew, after all. How'd I know that? I'm smart.) still uses Lamprosisms regularly, ten-plus years after she and my dad parted ways.

My Ya-ya had her own list of sayings that we razzed her about, and that we continue to throw around when we're together, mostly I think as a way of remembering her without having to be sentimental or mushy about it. When Sean and I walk into the house late at night after driving all the way from Jersey, my dad asks what he can get us to eat, and says "There's pizza, and I got a roast in the oven. I know, kiddo, that's not enough. Here--I'll put some rigatoni on the stove!" In fact, lots of the Ya-ya jokes are about being force-fed, like when my brother pushes his plate away after eating a full meal and my dad says, "What, you're not hungry? Let me get the sling-shot..."

Other Ya-yaisms were just plain mistakes--innocent ones--that we never let her get away with. The one I remember best is when she was trying to think of the name of a famous baseball player she'd just watched a documentary on. You know, the one who used to wear socks. Or one sock. Or a black stocking. That's it! "Stocking-foot Joe!" No..."Black Stocking Joe!" Wait...that's not it... I got it! "Footless Joe Jackson!"

I'm hoping that this kid ends up learning Lamprosisms by osmosis--just because they're a fact of his/her life, like they were mine. Hell, Sean doesn't need a translator anymore when we go back to Cleveland, and he's even started using some himself. It might sound silly, but it's even better than having pictures of Ya-ya and Papou around.

I will be delivered after all.

Praise Jesus (and April). I found an OB/GYN who is in our insurance network, who is a woman, who is taking new patients, who actually delivers babies, and who does so at Hackensack University Medical Center. It's truly a miracle.

Honestly, I had no idea this would be an issue. When I first moved to Jersey, I got a referral from one of Sean's accounts for a female OB who happens to deliver, and whom I've been seeing for a few years. I never though to be concerned with her hospital affiliation, and it never even occurred to me to ask whether she had ultrasound equipment on site until my first prenatal visit, at which point we were given a scrip and told to make an additional appointment on another date at some medical imaging center down the road a piece. So that was a little anticlimactic, to say the least, especially after we'd gotten so pumped up to get our first peek at the babe during that visit. Also, the ultrasound tech didn't allow Sean in the room with me initially (she said it was because she needed to be sure that everything was okay before inviting the father into the room....but that seems so counterintuitive, since the father has every right to be there WHILE that's being found out, doesn't he? Not to mention that if, *spit* *spit*, there actually was a problem, wouldn't that be when you'd most need one another? I really don't think that would have happened at a doctor's office. Whatever. Thank god everything was fine).

So we set out on a wild goose chase to find a good doctor in an effort to minimize the chances of something disappointing, or worse, happening again. We both agreed that we'd prefer a Labor and Delivery center within a hospital, rather than a birthing clinic. The Women's and Children's Pavilion at Hack really stood out to us, and it's a great relief to Sean that they have a stellar children's hospital to boot. All that aside, I'd be lying if I said that the Nicole Miller designer hospital gowns and the BEYOND Spa didn't play a part in my decision making process...

But all the OBs to whom we were referred were either not delivering anymore (not surprising, with the $50k+ malpractice requirement in addition to their regular premium) or weren't accepting new patients (also not surprising, since the pickins are so slim). Aaaarrrrrgh.

After casting a wide enough net we were successful at last, and in the nick of time as my new doctor, Melissa Weinstein, was able to squeeze me in during the window in which the first trimester combined screening needs to happen. This is the ultrasound and blood panel that help to determine the risk of Down Syndrome and trisomy-18 (er...gotta read up on that one).

Sadly, Sean will still be in Arizona (where he is now) for my appointment, which is this Friday. Boohoo. But I'll have an tasteful black and white of our brilliant little bean to show him when he gets home, and to show his brother and sisters when we break the news to them this weekend down the shore. I really hope we get a nice profile shot!

My Little Greek Olive

Or, more accurately, my little Greek-Russian-Irish-Welsh-Hungarian-Scottish olive. The "bean" has graduated to "olive" this week, but somehow that just doesn't sound as cute. And plus, it makes me think of martinis, dammit. Grape, maybe? Now I'm thinking of dessert wine, which strangely, I've been craving. Anyway, at somewhere between an inch and an inch-and-a-half, it's really hard to believe s/he can be taking up so much space in there, but my non-existent waistline is proof. I swear it's not that bag of Cheetos or the double order of tiramisu...

Not only has the little bugger been growing up a storm over the last week and a half, but there's been a lot going on around the house too. My mom was in town from Thursday to Monday. The visit was a birthday present to her from me and Sean, and what a thoughtful present it was! If it wasn't enough that she's working at Bray Whaler while maintaining her own business, she's also moving this Saturday. And it's not as though this trip was even a relaxing respite from her daily, crazy life. We did the marathon shopping thing, flipping though hundreds of rugs at ABC Carpet & Home, spending hours planning the interior of the PAX storage wall in the office/baby's room (well, she did, while I crashed on the MALM floor sample), and hitting every bedding and bath store in a 25 mile radius of Hoboken searching for THE curtain rods. We perfected the art of "honing," (driving in increasingly smaller concentric circles around the target while cursing out Emily, whose maps are shamefully out-of-date), and she did an amazing job not punching my lights out when I got cranky. All in all, I think it was a great birthday present.

Even though it took two tries to put it together (thank GOD for Sean on Saturday night), the Great Wall of Storage tripled our closet space and made room for baby and anything else we might acquire in the coming months. There's no way I'd have been able to plan it the way she did. She's also really good at installing hardware like curtain rods, which requires the confidence to make permanent holes in walls that I just don't have. And before her visit, I might have been content with a several hundred dollar "hand tufted" rug from Home Decorator's Collection, whereas now I know better and will be satisfied with nothing less than a hand-knotted Tabriz in the rarest of colors with 110 knots per square inch. Dammit again.

So, her visit really tied up a lot of loose ends around here and got us extremely organized. But there is one dilemma that it raised: what will the baby call her? It's not too early to think about this either, because if we knew, I'd already be referring to her as "_______" in this blog. We went over several options but none of them seemed right. We ruled out "Grandma" and "Nana." Beyond that, we're stumped. Any ideas?

Pictures?

I'm trying to put together a slide show of pictures to add as an "element" to Lil' B's blog (this whole thing is still rather new to me and I have no idea what I'm doing). I wanted to include pictures of Sean and me sans bebe (obviously) and pictures of all the cool people in our lives who will eventually play an important part in the life of the little bean...

But in compiling this slide show, it became glaringly evident that there's a huge lack of picture-taking going on here! It's like an epidemic. Not only are we guilty of it--Sean and I are know for having had some really fabulous experiences and either forgetting the camera all together, or coming home with one grainy, blurry, wide-angle shot of us there to show for it--but EVERYONE is! With maybe the exception of my mom, who is a picture taking fool. And Pop Len, though most of his pictures are of scenery and the friends he and Patty make on their globe-trotting adventures, rather than of themselves. And Grandma Diana, who is the queen of disposable 35mm film cameras, and Courtney and Sean and Dana and Paul, who are practically or actually professional photographers....

Wait a minute here. There are obviously pictures being taken. We just don't have any.

Hence the montage of pictures from our wedding. Sigh. (Yeah, I am being a little dramatic here because I never really do get sick of looking at pictures from our wedding. It's true.) But I really feel self-conscious about it, much in the way that I feel self-conscious about starting this blog...like it's a little self-indulgent. Or a lot. I will have to keep reminding myself that this is for posterity. In any case, it will hopefully be the kick in the butt that I need to make picture-taking a priority so we have documentation of all the great people we know and things we do and fun we have.

While our friends and family take digital pictures that are easy to share, most of them are posted on those photo-organization websites like Snapfish and Flikr and are shared that way, and I can't get them off there! I suppose that's the point.

Anyway, I guess this is a call to our friends and family: if you have any nice pictures of yourselves or of family gatherings and you find yourselves with a little spare time, can you send them to me? NOT by inviting me to "view your Snapfish album," but as email attachments. Just a couple, so that the most recent pics we have of you are not from two years ago (no matter how I cherish the memory of that glorious day in Mexico.....).

Thank you!! XOXOXO

Smarter than the average bear...

I may not have a scanner, but I DO have a digital camera! So I took a picture of the picture of the baby, who will affectionately be referred to henceforth as Lil' B. The print out of the sonogram is high-gloss though, so it was really hard to get a pic without some nasty glare (which is why the annoying angle). At least you can make out the general outline of the little Lima bean chilling in its comfy womb chair.

There really is a baby in there!

I just sent the first Baby Update email to a few family members, having not yet committed to the idea of a blog...and then created a blog. So rather than reinventing the wheel, I'm going to copy and paste the email I just sent.

8:46am July 15, 2008
Sub: Ultrasound--Not ours, but can you really tell?

Hi, guys!

So we had our first ultrasound yesterday and everything's looking good. Actually, looking quite like a Lima bean, but sounding human anyway. We heard the heartbeat, which was really amazing! I sort of wish they didn't make you hold your urine for these things, because I would have enjoyed the experience much more if my teeth weren't floating. In any case, it was certainly memorable and it made it very real for both of us. Until we got proof, I think we were both a little apprehensive. But there it is--hanging on tight, little heart pumping away.

I thought our printer/copier had a scanner option, but alas it does not, so I'm sending a link instead to some stranger's ultrasound that looks remarkably like our baby! Go figure. According to the calendar, the baby's age is 7 weeks 2 days, and according to the crown-to-rump measurements, the baby's age is 7 weeks 4 days, which puts us at a due date of February 27. But I'm sticking with my story that the kid is 8 weeks and just really, really petite. I'm almost positive. Time will tell, as the measurements get more and more accurate the bigger the baby gets. Right now taking the measurements is literally like splitting hairs, but at this stage, just a couple days here and there makes a huge difference! We're talking the difference between toes and NO TOES! Or TAIL and no tail! Huge, I tell you.

So it was really important that Sean and I tell as many people as possible IN PERSON, which is why we are waiting until our weekend down the shore with Sean's family to tell his siblings. Of course, his mom and dad know already. That will mean that most of our close friends and family will know by the first week of August, but we're waiting until the end of the 1st trimester, AUGUST 15th, to make it public knowledge, and at that point you can all feel free to tell whomever. Thanks for keeping it to yourselves in the meantime!

We're toying with the idea of keeping a blog because so many of the important people in our lives don't live near us. I'm still trying to get used to the idea. We'll keep you posted if we do.

Here's the stranger's ultrasound. Seriously, the only difference is that the stranger's baby looks like it's swimming in the middle of the sack, expending a whole lot of energy, and mine is chilling like the sack is a womb chair (huh...), like a smart little bean.
http://images.google.com/imgres?imgurl=http://bp2.blogger.com/_OFODEphY20A/RqVs3bves1I/AAAAAAAAABI/SPLDOh8RxEo/s320/baby%2Bcanar0003.jpg&imgrefurl=http://babycanar.blogspot.com/2007/07/our-little-peanut.html&h=236&w=320&sz=16&hl=en&start=14&sig2=RiHplVxUEtV0CZcgoOkDjw&um=1&tbnid=E9n4f7g3bRA_gM:&tbnh=87&tbnw=118&ei=xpJ8SIDXOYXOggL--pGaDw&prev=/images%3Fq%3Dultrasound%2B7%2Bweeks%26ndsp%3D18%26um%3D1%26hl%3Den%26client%3Dfirefox-a%26rls%3Dorg.mozilla:en-US:official%26sa%3DN

And here's a cool picture of what it looks like close up. Much more endearing than the fuzzy gray spot in the ultrasound.
http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IFYXp_KJ0YM/RlCRKftxZjI/AAAAAAAAAAk/gpzMHpQh9LQ/s1600-h/7weeks.jpg

Hope you're all well and that we get to see you soon!!

Love,
Jessica, Sean & ?