All is well.....

As the date of introduction nears, I continue to get more and more anxious. I cannot wait to meet this little person. Finally get to see its face and touch it's little fingers and toes. Dress it up in cute little outfits and hang out at the house. :)

There is a reality that is slowly setting in that in a time that could be anywhere from 6-10 weeks, this introduction is going to happen.

The anxiety is palpable. And, following the current trends, just like the books all tell me, I am experiencing the mood swings to prove it. I still feel a little underprepared, and I think not knowing the sex of the baby has a little to do with that. I only have one item of clothing, though I window shop online at least an hour every day. I like unisex, neutral baby clothes, but there is limited selection, really. I want my kid to be dressed in more than yellow, green and white.

Well, next Tuesday, I have another sonogram scheduled. And, since this little child has spent more time head-down, I think this one will be "the one." It would be very convenient if it's true, since my shower is next weekend.

I haven't spoken much about my first visit with my new doctor, or any of the subsequent visits. Well, no news is good news. I have no complaints. From day one, Dr. Russell has been funny, engaging and willing to sit and answer questions with honesty and straight-forwardness. He has an extremely friendly staff that SMILES at me. I was nervous for the first visit. I had a list of questions in my little memo book. I was worried he wouldn't take me seriously, or think I was some whacked out hippy. But, he really never flinched. He commended me on my commitment and answered my questions honestly, no sugar-coating, no "PC" answers. I really appreciated that. His nurses/staff were all smiles and laughing and I could tell they enjoyed working there. That says something about a doctor.

The next few visits were routine, and I have to brag here: my BP has been perfect. The last reading was like 95/73. Which - if you don't know - is AWESOME. I'm gaining the required amount of weight. No more. My ass is still flat (a little disappointing.) I am gaining a little chunk here and there, which is just more to love. The baby has been growing well and moving really well. I was hooked up yesterday for a non-stress test and the baby practiced it's Olympic pummel horse routine. I was taken off monitoring after 10 minutes (which they were expecting 15-25) because my baby reacted so well to the apple juice.

I guess I was made to be pregnant. My only complaint - and this is very recently - is my back is beginning to fatigue. I get sore spots....not really even pain, just areas that don't feel "normal." I know most of it is from my posture, which was always blah. I walk down the hall at work and have to stay conscious of my shoulders. They'll be at my ears if I'm not careful. I guess I'm trying to help myself breathe, now that the baby is starting to take my my lung space.

I'm not waddling yet.

I am all baby. I know this is true because at least 10 people tell me every day how ginormous I am and that I "for sure" have more than one baby in there. One girl - who I don't know - said "wow, you must be about done" and when I told her I had 12 weeks left, she just shook her head, exhaled slowly and walked away. I didn't know what to make of that. And then my students - who I love, even after this - tell me every day how huge I am. I am not huge! I can still see my toes! Kind of.

My boss - who I rarely interact with - sees me and starts pretending to "clear" the area like a WIDE LOAD is coming through. He's hilarious. Let me tell you.

But, even though I am getting big and people like to tell me how big I am, it's worse to have them not say anything at all. There's one person that I encounter regularly who has this look. I don't know how to describe it....pity, maybe? Like I'm a hobbly ole cripple barely making it down to my class. Looking at me like at any moment my world will just collapse. It's strange. I can tell you this: I like that look a lot less than the tummy rubs and Buddha and twin comments.

Wow, this was one disorderly blog. Let me end with this:
I am having a wonderful pregnancy. I'm healthy! My baby is healthy! I really really like Dr. Russell and his staff! I'm scared to death most days! My family is awesome! I'm nervous and anxious and excited and can't wait to buy baby clothes!

I wouldn't change it for the world!!

Attack of the.....

Killer air???

crop dusting: verb
Passing gas in a stealth manor, usually while walking through a crowd or a group, so that someone else gets blamed for the stench, or at the very least people besides the assailent must suffer it.
The restaurant's so busy tonight that you can get away with crop dusting your own section

Welcome to my life. It's like a week ago, I may have tooted a bit after eating. Compare that to this week, where I think I set a world record last night. "Human Holds More Air than Ever Thought Possible!" the headlines will read.

I'm not sure what happened. It's like I hit the third trimester (yay!!) and my gut blew up like a hot air balloon. Literally.

I'm leaving a wind trail everywhere I go. The only thing I can be fortunate about is that it's just AIR. No eye-watering can be blamed on me. Not yet anyway. Wait til I eat that spinach burrito in the freezer. I may just take off....look for windful flying object over your town...just may be me.

This baby is growing and growing. At my last picture show, my kid was still shy, but the doc estimated it to weigh 2 pounds, which is one week ahead of it's expected weight. I'm not sure if I should take that as a sign that my due date will be different, or I'll just have a toddler to push out.

My next appointment is next week - just for monitoring - and I'll schedule my next sonogram then. Hopefully, I'll know by September 17th. Kid1 is spending more time booty-up, so hopefully it overcomes it's shyness and shows me some naughty bits.

The baby's room is nearly finished. Mike painted for like 100 hours to cover the grasshopper-key-lime-pie green that was there before and I have a nice, pretty, PLAIN creamy vanilla pudding. Yep, plain Jane, that's me. We're still waiting on the crib. It's scheduled to be delivered today, so I'm just keeping all of my fingers and toes crossed that it gets delivered and UPS was a bit more gentle with it this time. If not, Mimi and I are going to New Orleans this weekend and getting one, no matter what. Here's a shot, without the crib - pregnant style - which means crooked and blurry.


We're getting carpet installed on the staircase today. Hopefully it will reduce some noise and prevent any foreheads from being split open in the next couple of years. Yep...that's right, Izzy is moving upstairs this week. She's done so well in her big girl bed that she'll be graduating to her big girl room. She's still unsure and asked Daddy to sleep in the bed with her. Luckily, she believed him when he said he wouldn't fit. It is the truth, after all. I think she will do great, as long as she stays encouraged. The upstairs bathroom is almost finished too, so we'll start bathing her up there too and it will be entirely her domain. I think she'll be satisfied with that. :) Little Diva.

I just read on Facebook that some friends of mine - who are expecting their second child - just found out that they're having a little girl in a family that seems to only produce boys. Against all odds, they broke the chain and are having a girl. Well, congrats to you Brandon, Joan & Riley!! (even if I'm jealous that you found out already.) If I'm having a boy, and you're having a girl, we have some serious clothes-swapping to do. ;) I'm being totally serious.

Well, I'm all witted out. Time to go lay on my side and relieve this airy feeling.

Hasta la vista.

Ointment.

Well, howdy stranger.
The baby (who is still sexless) has been getting bigger, and consequently, so have I. Lots of movement and I can tell if I'm being poked by a leg or an arm or a head. I can pick out its little body parts too.
The baby is getting fatter. My last ultrasound put shim at about a week ahead as far as size. So, maybe that will mean that I won't last until November. We'll see.
Isabella's big girl room is finished upstairs, minus her bed. She will move up there soon. We wanted to see how she would fare sleeping in the day bed. Well, it's been three nights in a row and she's sleeping through the night, even though she now has the ability to get out of bed if she wanted to. I'm not mentioning that fact to her.
Now that we know she will at least stay in the bed, we will move her upstairs into her new 3 YEAR OLD BIG SISTER ROOM!! Whooohooo! ;)
Daddy has been busy these past few weeks doing his own version of nesting....which mainly constitutes manual labor. But, he's gotten so much done, which eases my mind alot.
Last weekend alone, he painted Izzy's BIG GIRL room, moved her furniture upstairs and managed to throw in a little kitchen renovation. (That is the condensed list of what he actually accomplished.) I accomplished a brief trip to Lafayette in which I ate too much. Seriously.
Anyway...here's a couple shots of Izzy's room....so CUTE!



And, just to show off, Mike also hung a backsplash behind the stove. For those of you who didn't know, we didn't have a back splash. It was just bare, unpainted wall. So, this made me very very happy. I love how it looks.




We got some furniture in...or one piece of furniture in. The glider and the ottoman. That is cool. The crib got returned to the sender because the UPS delivery process destroyed it. So, this is what happens now. Literally. UPS destroys my crib. They return my crib to the sender. This is all happening without my knowledge. They change the date of delivery to Aug 20 as opposed to Aug 16. What they don't specify is that is the date of return to sender. So, today, the UPS tracking information tells me that the package has been delivered - in OHIO. I'm clueless. I seriously thought that Babies 'R Us was immediately sending me a new crib that would arrive on the 20th. Boy, was I wrong. I called BRU customer service - very nice and helpful, by the way - and asked what I was to do now. And, this is it. I have to wait until the refund posts to my credit card (7-10 business days) then re-order it from the website, and then wait the additional processing and shipping time for it to - hopefully - arrive in about 2.5 weeks in one piece. Seems that Babies 'R Us is making it really easy for UPS to destroy packages and making it very inconvenient to order from their online store for the customer. Anyway...I asked the nice man if he would expedite the process and he 'made some notes' on my account that will hopefully up the delivery date before my actual delivery date.
All I can do is cross my fingers. Hopefully UPS won't destroy the rest of my furniture scheduled to deliver this week.

I was thinking yesterday, after I got out of the shower and took a look at the various oils, creams and ointments I have added to my daily ritual of beautification and comfort. When you first get pregnant and see an OB, they give you a welcome "care package" for pregnancy. My first doctor had a bunch of magazines. My second doctor had pens, magnets, cups, schedules, phone numbers, a bib and it all came in a tote! Sold me right away! Anyway, I was thinking this: when you get a care package from your OB, they should also give you a supply of all the additional ointments you will need during your pregnancy. I hate the word ointment. It sounds exactly like what it's used for: to put on your butt, your privates, and other various skin ailments. OINT-MENT. Blech.
So, this care package should contain a tube of Preparation H (if you have to ask, Google it), a tube of anti-itch anti-fungal cream (same), a sample pack of a variety of stretch mark creams and oils, peppermint foot lotion, and chap stick. I personally have developed contact dermatitis so I am adding Cortisone Cream too.

Yes, that would be a very good idea. We should all suggest it to our OBs. Hopefully they won't laugh in our faces at the request.

I'm hoping to get a video of my baby kicking because you can see it from the surface now, but each time I've tried so far, as soon as I turn on the camcorder, all movement ceases. I've never heard of a baby with stage fright. We'll see. Hopefully, I'll get that up soon.

Oh, and I say this: BRING ON THE RAIN!! It makes my life easier because it decreases the outdoor temperature by 25 degrees. So, stop complaining about the rain and go dance in it or something. I personally am standing in it right now, drenching myself so I can go stand under an air conditioner vent. :)

Wouldn't change it for the world!! I'm getting excited and can't wait to meet my little Shim! :)

Time moves so fast....

Today I am writing out of a place of frustration. It has been hard to not become frustrated at the feelings that arise out of the lack of control I have been feeling.

It's easy to control the date the shower will be on. It's easy to control what I put on my registry, in my mouth or on my body. I can control whether my house is clean, the laundry is done and whether or not I answer the phone when you call.

What I cannot control at the moment is how this baby is going to come into this world. Yeah, yeah...I know I won't be able to control it much when the time comes, either. But, I do have ideas on how I want it to be done. My husband is on board...now, we have to get everyone else on the wagon too.

I'm reading several books right now. And they're all along the lines of the type of birth that I want to have. I have, for nearly a decade, been a natural birth advocate. Even when I wasn't anywhere near being married and pregnant, I have had an idea of how I want my delivery(ies) to go. I have observed a trend in childbirth that leans more toward monetary gain than natural process. The natural way has been set aside to make room for scheduled deliveries, induced births and a 25% increase in Cesarean deliveries since 1970. All of this is scary to me. Childbirth is now handled like a disease that needs to be treated rather than the wonderful miracle it truly is.

There are numerous studies on the benefits of differing child birthing methods - and yet, our obstetricians rely on the same methods that were developed at the turn of the 20th century. While things have changed some for the better since 1890, there are things that haven't. I'm glad that my arms won't be strapped down to a bed, that I won't be given an enema before delivery, and I'm surly glad that I won't be unconscious. Other than those details, delivery hasn't changed much. Mothers are still confined to a bed, told that labor is a process that they will "suffer" through, encouraged to get long needles shoved into their spinal cords and generally made to fear the process and trust no one but the doctor.

I disagree. While female mortality rates have declined since the advent of modern medicine, most of the deaths were prevented in modern times because of the discovery that bacterial infections killed people. Before the discovery of those tiny little critters and the medicine to treat them, women had a large chance of dying after birth from sepsis. Women are surviving child birth because of the scientific understanding of bacteria and the advocation of hand-washing and antibiotics, not because obstetrics has changed in leaps and bounds. Give credit where credit is due. Thank you, Alexander Fleming.

So, my frustration arises when I find myself fighting at all angles to defend my choice. I'm fighting now to find a doctor that "gets it." I still don't know if he will. After this coming Tuesday, I may be making more phone calls and asking for more referrals to see someone else. We'll see. I'm fighting some of my family members so that they can get an understanding, and even without acceptance, support. In this area of the world, Professional Labor Assistants are few and far between. After nearly a half a day of research, I have found 3. Two of which may not serve me in my "area." So, I'm fighting to find professional labor support. I'm swimming upstream in a current of "no, you cant," "you're nuts," "whys," and general looks of disgust. Like I'm doing something that will harm me or my child by not allowing people to poke, prod and monitor me to death.

Nearly everyone that I have voiced my choices to have the same response. And that is "Why?" All I have to say, is "Why not?"

Luckily, Mike is 100% on board with me. And, not because I gave him no choice. He has always been a supportive, loving and caring partner through my entire pregnancy (and before.) I know if I told him to put on his swim suit, hop in a birthing tub with me, he'd do it - no questions asked. So, I'm putting this here, for everyone to see:

Thank you, Mike, for 'getting it' and allowing me to have my passions, understand them and accept them. For understanding that we go through this together, and that I need your support. Thank you for never doubting me, my ability to delivery this baby any way I set my mind to, and keeping me - and us - open to all other possibilities. I couldn't do it without you. I wouldn't even want to.

So, the journey continues. And, I know compromises may have to be made along the way. Just remember that because someone chooses to do something that you think is different - or just plain crazy- doesn't give you the right to judge, denounce or disregard it. I have made up my mind, and need support. I need help. I need advice. You're not going to scare me or change my mind. If anything, I've only been made more determined by your doubt. Wish us well and send us love and in the words of everyone's wise old ______________ "If you can't say anything nice, don't say anything at all."

Brain freeze...

Since my last post, I have been thinking. Alot.

I laid awake just last night for nearly 2 hours thinking of all the things pregnant people think about. Birthing classes, my OB, birthing plans, crib mattresses, diapers, pacifiers, safety, car seats, seasons, and maternity leave.

It really is amazing the length of an expectant couple's "To-do List." It's like that annoying song from our childhood, "The Song that Never Ends" from the Sheri and Lambchop show. "This is the song that never ends, it just goes on and on, my friend. Some people started singin it, not knowin what it was; and they'll keep on singin it forever, just because....this is the ......." You get my drift. It just keeps going and going and going.

Once you think you've made some progress on the list, you have to add another 30 items.

With all the normal stress an expectant couple has, I have just one little added stress. I say little, because I think it will be an easy fix, but it's a large item on my "things that are important" list.

Tomorrow, I am calling my insurance company to make sure that changing my OB will not effect my current efforts toward paying off my share of the "delivery" bill.

Yes, I said it: I am changing doctors. If you read my last post about the profound disappointment I experienced with my ultrasound, then you can understand at least the foundation for my decision. Though my mind is made up, my decision to change did not come lightly. I'm over halfway into my pregnancy. I have been receiving prenatal care from a competent Nurse Practitioner, whom I happen to like. The thing is, is that I don't like the woman who will ultimately deliver my baby.

There are several things that immediately don't sit well with me. First of all, my initial visit to her was supposed to be for my annual pap-smear and check up. That's the only reason I chose her. As luck wuold have it, 3 days before that check up, I read a positive pregnancy test, so she just turned from my GYN to my OB. On that day, I waited a good hour to be called to the back, and when I was, she came in the room with another woman. There were no introductions. In fact, she barely spoke to me. She had a conversation with her nurse about traffic and how badly people drive in Louisiana. She went through the motions carelessly and callously. She didn't even give me a heads up before she put the speculum in. I would later learn, that she wouldn't give me a heads up before she put anything anywhere.

I saw her again a couple of weeks later, for my first ultrasound. She was a bit friendlier then, but that was the whole "jock itch" visit, and my discomfort plus the excitement of seeing our little alien outweighed her "shining personality."

That would be the last time I would see her for 14 weeks. So, nearly 3 months went by where I solely saw her Nurse Practitioner. I was ushered in and out, in and out and time goes by and I start to realize that the woman who is supposed to deliver my baby will be a stranger to me.

Then, there are the financial matters. My doc's office has a "bookkeeper" who handles payments and insurance. On my first visit, she told me that by my second visit, she would have the breakdown of what I would owe toward the delivery charge. (Insurance companies only cover so much.) Again, she barely looked at me, and acted rather annoyed when I had a very basic question. She answered me curtly, furiously writing the entire time. I never got that financial breakdown. It's been 4 months.

Then, there's the whole experience of the last ultrasound. And by last, I mean last. Any ultrasound from here on out will have to be paid for by me, and so far...this baby is going to cost me over $2000 out of pocket. It's very sad.

On a brighter note, I have a recommendation for another doctor that sounds like a dream compared to my current one. From all the happy faces I see when I mention his name, he seems to truly enjoy his job. He has a passion for delivering babies. And, he enjoys troubleshooting and answering questions. He doesn't have a nurse practitioner and does all visits himself. That may mean that I may wait a little longer to see him sometimes, but...for peace of mind, it's worth it.

I know that the way I see things happening in my head may or may not turn out to come true on the day of. I know that my fear of epidurals may just disappear after the first pang of labor. I know that my doctor may be out of town on the date of delivery and some strange person will walk trough the doors to do the honors. But, before that happens, I want a doctor that I can trust, that will trust me, and not treat me like a child, or like someone who doesn't understand what is happening. I am an adult. A bit of a paranoid adult, so I'm reading and asking and inquiring and finding out so many things. I'm not leaving much up to chance. I like it that way.

It's funny, how when you grow up, you begin turning in to your parents. And, I don't mean that I'm turning in to my mother (which I am, by the way) but, I'm making decisions diffferently. Decisions that as a child and young adult seem like far away things. Taking many things into consideration before I make up my mind.

One of those things is my decision to cloth diaper. I was a cloth diapered baby. Things have come a long way since the days of diaper pins and plastic pants. I made my decision based on two things: cost and waste. Those two things work hand-in-hand. Mike and I figured it out, and just the fact that we would be saving so much money was a motivator, and we would be cutting our waste. AND, THEY ARE JUST TOO CUTE!!!

The other thing I have decided, which may seem like a no-brainer to some is to breast feed. I truly believe it is the best food source for the baby. And, I don't care what it's gonna do to my boobs after all is said and done. All the naysayers and their selfish proclamations about saggy tits can sit on a fat one. Hahaha...sorry Mema. Anyway, I'm gonna be "that mom" at the mall. hahahahhahahhahaha!!!

The last couple of days I've been working on my registry(ies) and it's been a tiresome but fun project. It's amazing how much, and how little you can put on those things.

Sigh. So, I think I will try to get some work done now and ignore the pull of my Target registry. Its....oh..............so.....hard.

And, we live in anticipation....

Today was the big day. The day in which we find out if we're having a girl or a boy.

It's been a tough wait. And, the wait continues.

Mike and I ate lunch before our appointment, with plenty of caffeinated beverages to make sure our wiggle butt would wiggle it's little butt.

You see, I've figured out a bit of a pattern with our baby's movement. The sleep/wake patterns that its forming in there.

In the morning, it's Sweatin with the Oldies. In the afternoon, it's Riverdance on the bladder. And, in the evening its Zumba before bed. My baby is really into aerobic health. Not to mention training its little neurons and muscles how to work. Which means lots of spastic kicks and elbows. I think it must look a bit like I do when I dance: completely spastic!

Well, we went into the appointment with high hopes. And, what do you know, even though I guzzled some caffeine, our little dear slept through the whole appointment.

Not only did it sleep, it slept with a foot over its privates. A perfectly formed foot, according to Mike and my doctor, since I didn't get to see. The entire ultrasound was done with me staring at the back of the monitor.

I felt like I was in a Nazi work camp, a nameless vessel used to hold some genetically engineered super baby. Both of them, ooohing and aaahing over a perfect baby, neither one looking beyond the glow of the screen. I felt just a little left out.

I mean, I'm just this kids MOM!

So, there was a flash of privates, and my doctor thinks she saw the tell-tale folds of a girl's nunee and not the single protrusion of a boy's bird. So, as of right now, we'll say it's a girl, maybe.

Maybe.

Hopefully, I can find something out soon. And, maybe I'll actually get to see this little life I'm carrying.

Other than the disappointment of being completely left out of the best movie EVER, there is some good news. The baby is perfect. She(?) is developing well, growing just like she(?) should be. I am also doing well, weight steady, blood pressure perfect and no protein in my pee. Woohoo!!!

I also had two other revelations today. One: I can see the bottom of my bellybutton for the first time ever in my life. And two: just like "they" said, my pee smells like what I eat. Today? Roast beef poboy. And that is the truth.

Next appointment in 4 weeks. Here's the pictures that I got on the CD...and no, none of my baby's perfect foot.

Her(?) head.


Her(?) femur.


Her(?) whole spaceghost body.


Another body shot, minus the money shot.

My kid likes Oreos...

After all the cricket chirps I heard following my last post, I figured I'd write something funny and upbeat.

I'm not lying. Here it is:

Three weeks ago, I had my regularly scheduled, monthly prenatal checkup. I was running late, so I came huffing and puffing into the office, with my blood pressure ringing in my ears. In case you are just tuning in, when you get pregnant, your circulatory system increases to assist your heart and placenta in nourishing your baby. When that happens, your body begins working harder to do things that non-pregnant people take for granted, like walking. And breathing.

Well, my NP was concerned because my blood pressure was a little high - oh, really??!! - and asked me to come back in two weeks, to check up and make sure my BP was all ok.

I came back in two weeks, and was early enough to sit and rest after my grueling walk from the parking tower before the nurse took my BP. Well, just like I suspected, my BP was fine. Actually, she was very proud of me because my BP was so good and I was maintaining weight.

I have been working really hard to monitor my sodium and drink lots of water. In doing so, I have actually lost a bit of weight. Water weight, but still ok. Remember how they call salt the "silent killer?" It's in EVERYTHING. You literally cannot cut out sodium from your diet. In fact, you do need a little to survive. Anyway, I don't want to end up with cankles.

At this last visit, I got to schedule my 20 week ultrasound. What's so special about this? Well, we get to find out if we're having a boy, or a girl!! I'm not one for surprises. I completely want to know! Mainly so I can start getting presents and plan my baby shower. Ha!

Mike and I have been kicking around some names. We have actually been agreeing on most of them, with the exception of Enis. Let's do a little word association: what's the first word that comes to your mind when you say Enis? Yeah, that one was a no. Anyway, the name is something I'm keeping a secret from everyone until it comes out! Sorry, Charlie....

With all this talk of boys, girls and everything in between, Izzy has begun to get a little curious. She's always been my potty buddy, following me to the bathroom while I teetee. Nothing like an audience. Anyway, being that we're both girls, I don't have a problem with it. Well, recently, she's been wanting to follow Daddy into the bathroom.

It's not like its wrong, per se, but Mike and I both agree that she's at the age now where she shouldn't be in the bathroom while Daddy showers or potties. This doesn't settle so well with her. She's very persistent and to palliate her a bit, I told her that Daddy is a boy and you can't watch him potty. That didn't satisfy her even a little bit. She finally broke me down with all her WHYS, and I told her that girls have nunees and boys have wieners. Well, wouldn't you know that this is her NEW FAVORITE SAYING!

"I can't watch Daddy potty because boys have wieeeenerrrs."

"Boys shower by themselves because girls have nuuuuneeees."

"Katie, you have a big nunee, and I have a small nunee."

Yeah, thanks for bringing that up, Captain Obvious.

I've created a monster. Luckily she doesn't want to actually know what a wiener is. Yet. I'm giving her a week.

Another big thing happening this week, besides informing my three year old about wieners, is that I'm beginning to feel the baby move! It started out as little flicks and blips. It didn't happen very often, and very often, I convinced myself that it was all in my head. Then, last week, I was laying on the couch with one of my legs kind of hanging off and was shaking my leg. Every time I would stop, I'd feel this Saturday Night Fever happening in my belly! It went from flicks, to feeling its little limbs swirling around!

My little baby is getting strong enough to let me know its there. It's a pretty amazing feeling. I can only describe it was fluttery bubbles, just like the books tell you.

And, to reference the name of the blog - and make a confession - yesterday, I almost single-handedly finished a carton of Oreos. Well, I only did it because when I would eat a cookie, my baby would boogie! (Just believe it, ok?!) It was pretty cool.

I am so looking forward to next Thursday. I get another picture of my child, and hopefully get to see a little penga or nunee down there!!

There's still another 9 days to vote on what you think I'm having, so scroll to the poll on the side-bar and indulge me in a vote!!

Hallelujah, I'm almost halfway to the finish line!