More Talk About Babies

Well, my work here is done. My orders have run out, and I’m headed back home to Georgia (do you realize how weird that sounds?). On one hand, I’m ecstatic to be through working for a grumpy, tyrannical boss and through sitting down for long portions of the day; on the other hand, I know no longer have a steady form of income coming into my bank account. Well, I do have drill paychecks, but they’re certainly not enough to brag about. Baby mama may be out on the streets looking for work soon (don’t worry, not that kind of work).

So, you may be wondering how the pregnancy’s going? I think it will be interesting to see how uncomfortable RJ can make me in the eighth and ninth months. He’s doing an okay job now. My digestive tract is finally back on track (hallelujah), so there’s a plus. But, you know, what I find particularly hilarious is how no woman ever talks about all the different little aches and pains along the way. Not that they’re that bad, but they can make you a nervous wreck wondering if they’re normal or if something’s gone terribly wrong!! For example, round ligament pain. Yeah, shooting pains from your kidneys down to your groin…holy cow. I was ready to go to the ER. But, me being the nerd that I am, I checked my Obstetrics and Gynecology medical textbook (did I mention I had ordered that?) and found out that these are absolutely normal pains. Well, there’s one less thing to worry about. But then your mind starts playing trick on you. Let’s face it. There’s no way you can tell if everything’s normal or not. At this stage, I’m not really showing (except where RJ’s home has pushed my belly fat upwards and outwards), I can’t feel him moving around (hehe, don’t think I don’t spend hours with my hand on my abdomen trying to feel something), and all I’m really feeling are mild aches and pains. What in the world makes me think there’s a baby in there?? See, there needs to be a 24 hour ultrasound quick mart where you can just drop in and have a quick one done or a doppler to hear the heart beat and be reassured everything’s fine. Thank goodness my doctor’s appointment is less than a week away…

By the way, if you know anyone who’s pregnant right now, I highly recommend the J-pillow from Relax the Back. It’s exactly what it sounds like–a long j-shaped pillow. You sleep in the crook with your head on the pillow and then the lower portion goes between your legs to support your hips. It’s not a lot different from the body pillows you see in stores except that it’s made with synthetic down so it compresses just right, doesn’t flatten down, and it’s still machine-washable. Plus, the J is the perfect shape for some strange reason. It’s saved my nights.

Okay, enough advertising. For those of you who are wondering, I’m 15 weeks along, so we’re coasting right on through. My next doctor’s appointment is Monday, the 12th, and according to Dr. Stitt, we should be able to find out whether RJ is an RJ or a CJ. Guess I should explain that one real quick. Ryan’s family has been calling the baby RJ (short for Ryan Junior) since Ryan swears it will be a boy, and it’s better than calling the baby it. Anyway, last time we had an ultrasound, RJ wasn’t cooperating and kept turning the wrong way to get a measurement we needed (the nurse said, “well, I see he’s your husband’s child.” I said, “ma’am, you obviously don’t know us very well. That kid most definitely takes after his mama.”). So, keep your collective fingers crossed. Mom’s about to have a coronary waiting to find out whether she can buy baby girl outfits or baby boy outfits. Right now it’s working in my favor because she’s settling for buying maternity outfits. Hmm. Maybe we’ll wait to find out the sex… No, really, we’re all eagerly anticipating the news. Ryan will have to eat crow for quite some time if we have a little girl since he’s said nothing but, “I only produce males.” (The genes for determining sex of the baby come from the male) However, a little girl would certainly be a much better option–we know lots of people with little girls who have lots of outgrown clothes to give away. We don’t know anyone with a little boy!

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