The Embiggening... a perfectly cromulent blog: 36 weeks: catching up and the C-word

Here we are in the home stretch ... there's only 4 more weeks until the Monkey will make an official appearance! We've been a bit (a lot!) slack with updating the blog as we've been pretty busy. We've taken a childbirth class and an infant CPR class as well as survived the holidays (as you know, that comes with its own brand of chaos both at work and at home) .... So, ladies and gentlemen, this is going to be a longer post. Please, sit back, relax, grab a cup of hot cocoa (or, truly, whatever you'd like, pick your poison, my friends) and come along as I relive the last month.

I. The Childbirth Class

Many moons ago, I asked my OB if it was really necessary for me to take a childbirth class. Not because as a veterinarian I know all about how puppies and kittens come out (like little slimy, furry jelly beans, in case you're wondering), but because labor and delivery is going to happen. Even if I'm unprepared. Even if I don't study the appropriate chapters in the multiple pregnancy books that I own. Even if I close my eyes and cover my ears and say "No! no! There is no way THAT is going to fit out of THERE!" .... It's happening. Sometime in February, there will be a baby. And it will come out of me. And not like Athena sprang fully formed out of Zeus' forehead or how Aphrodite was formed from sea-foam ... but like a screaming horror show. A beautiful, screaming horror show. Where was I? Oh, yeah. Anyhoo, my OB said that it was a good idea, so I dutifully scheduled the "intensive" class: three hours of learnin' (as opposed to one hour of learnin' each weekend for three weekends. Urgh.).

So the first part of the class was relatively informative: we learned about epidurals, fetal monitors, Braxton-Hicks contractions, labor pains, the myth of water-breaking and how big 10cm really is. The latter portion was ... um ... interesting. I'll say that I'm glad it was the shorter bit. We went over breathing techniques for different levels of discomfort, from "Oh, hey, that's uncomfortable" to "WHY AM I BEING PUNISHED?!?" The breathing techniques alone were not so bad. Holding my legs up in the air while I pretend to "push" and breathe in the "hee hee hee hoo" pattern? During which Zac cried out things like, "Don't poop on the baby!" and "I can see the head!" That? That made me laugh so hard I was weeping. And then, the nurse running the class said that we should practice our breathing techniques ... the next time we poop. She was completely serious. Yeah. I lost it. Completely. I am so mature.

II. The holidays

We were lucky enough to start out the holiday week of madness with an ultrasound appointment: the growth scan. Everything was progressing well with the Monkey, although there were continuing "camera shy" issues. We did manage to get a cute "4D" image (cue the "aawww"s) and a weight estimate of 3lb 13 oz (3.82lb for those of you out there, like me, who think that weighing in ounces is silly).


Monkey at 32 weeks

Christmas was lovely. My mother flew in from Florida, and we spent the holiday with my aunt and uncle and family in Long Island. We had a wonderful time eating way too much food and reminiscing. My aunt and uncle are finishing a remodel of their house, and they've installed the fanciest toilet that I have ever seen (not counting anything from the Travel Chanel on Japan): it had a heated seat-warmer and more buttons than our TV remote control! Normally, I wouldn't mention a toilet, but since going pee is pretty much my new part-time job, I tend to notice these sorts of things! My mom took a photo of me in front of the Christmas tree. I would like to point out that the reasons I seem wider than the tree are twofold: (1) forced perspective, and (2) it was a skinny tree!


33 weeks at Christmas

III. Another Evening Class

I think that Infant CPR and First Aid is one of those classes that you take and hope that you will never, ever need. We learned basic first aid concepts like putting pressure on a bleeding wound and "ice is cold" (that is a direct quote). We learned that you should do compressions at 100/minute (30 compressions - 2 breaths - repeat 5 times). To help with the basic rhythm, you can sing the song "Stayin' Alive" in your head. (Another song with 100bpm? The slightly ironic "Another One Bites the Dust") I found it amusing that our teacher did go through step one of CPR: checking to see if the "person" needs CPR. During the last adult CPR class that I took, that meant that the basic script was: (1) "Annie, Annie, are you ok?" (while shaking the CPR dummy), followed by (2) "You, (point and say name), go call 911!" and then (3) start CPR. So this translated into baby-CPR as (1) "Baby, baby, are you ok?" which, unfortunately, made me want to giggle. Seriously, what parent/caretaker is going to gently shake an unconscious, blue infant while quietly asking if they are ok? I'm pretty sure it would have been more realistic to just release a primal scream, scream at your significant other to get on the damn phone with 911 and start CPR. But maybe that's just me. Anyway. On a lighter note, the couples across to and next to us were about to have a baby-dummy-battle before the instructor intervened. So, for once, we were not the least mature couple. Woo! Go, us!

IV. 36 Weeks

It's the final month of this portion of our journey and on one hand, I am so ready to meet our kiddooski. On the other hand, oh, man, I feel like I will never be ready! And on the third hand (three hands? Eew!), I am ready for this pregnancy to be over. I have, for the first time ever in my life, cankles. Yes, ladies and gents, that lovely portmanteau of calf+ankle, thanks to pregnancy, that is now what my legs end in. It's not as if prior to pregnancy I would have listed small, graceful, ladylike ankles as one of my best traits. Honestly, I just never considered my ankles. Now, it's all I can do to hide them. A few weeks ago when I took off my shoes and socks Zac actually cried out in shock and horror, "Oh, my god!" (<--He wants me to make the important distinction: I didn't say revulsion). I've even resorted to using ugly support-socks to keep the cankle at bay. They're effective but hideous. I'm also using my fantastically stretchy Bogs as everyday shoes - they're warm and slip-on and have plenty of room in the ankle. Unfortunately, this means that by the end of the day, I have Bog-shaped feet. Like little loaves of bread with vienna sausages attached. Urgh.

Well, enough of that mental picture. Here are some photos from 36 weeks. Enjoy!