It's time!!!!!

For the past week, I have felt like there is an invisible force pulling my body apart from the hips. It's about as comfortable as it sounds. This morning, we went to see the OBGYN for my weekly appointment. He did a pelvic exam and said that I am already 2 centimeters dilated and in the early stages of labor! The early stages can last from a few hours to a few days but I am done. Over it. Want my baby. NOW. So, I told him about my hip pains and asked if there is anything to do to speed it up. "Well, you and Papa-to-be can discuss it and if you feel it's for the best, yes, we can check you in today and induce contractions". Without even glancing over at P-t-b (who was in the room) I responded "Yes, we would like to do that please. Now."

So- look out, world. I am checking into the hospital at 8 pm and by this time tomorrow, I will be a MOM. 

Baby Shower

One of the first things Kelsey said after we found out I was pregnant was that she wanted to throw me a baby shower. Now, I've been to baby showers and the very concept of having one of my own made me vaguely want to barf. Imagining sitting in a roomful of women who are eating cucumber sandwiches, playing stupid games and assailing me with stories about the horrible things that happened to their nipples while breastfeeding and how many stitches it took to repair their vaginas after childbirth makes me want to run away from home and just have this kid alone in a cave somewhere. But, since Papa-to-be and I aren't married, our families have never met and we thought it was important that they did and we did want to have a day to celebrate. Besides, I have complete faith in Kelsey's party throwing abilities.

So, we invited everyone we are even distantly related to, got a cake and a bucket of beer and just spent the day together. It was a great day and it reminded me not only how much I love this man but how much I love my family and his and how lucky this little girl is going to be to call them hers.

 Come on, tell me this man isn't going to be the best papa ever.

I'm going to bed now. Exhausted, belly full of baby and enough food and cake to feed a small family for a week or so and more sure than ever that this is going to be fucking amazing. 

Belly Update

                                  Status: 7 months pregnant. Fucking huge.

Pregnancy in real life is not at all like the movies. There is no glow. Unless you are talking about the sweat which drips from my pimply face if I attempt to waddle more than 10 feet at a time. The morning sickness is gone at this point but no one ever told me about the migraine headaches, the heartburn, the complete inability to REMOVE THIS CHILD'S MOTHERFUCKING FOOT FROM MY RIBCAGE. I am *this close* to serving an eviction notice to the tenant in my belly.

The Circle

        5 months pregnant. Queens, New York.

My grandfather died last week. We lived on opposite coasts my entire life and I never really knew him at all. Kelsey, my dad and I flew to New York to be with my grandmother and the rest of the family and I realized while standing in his living room that it was my first time in his home. That struck me as somehow much more tragic than death itself. This man was flesh of my flesh and bone of my bone and I didn't even know what he had done for a living or what made him happy. The thumping, hiccuping life swimming in my (now ridiculously huge) belly obviously makes me ruminate on family connections in a way that I never have before and I vowed, standing there in that strange house among strangers, with only strands of DNA connecting us, that Kaya would never experience that. Of course, with the charming, oversharey co-dependence that my siblings and I enjoy, Kaya will probably be able to tell you, at any given moment, what underpants her Aunt Kelsey is currently wearing and what her Uncle Kirk cooked for dinner the previous night.  

It's a GIRL!

I kept telling everyone, "It's a boy. I can feel it. Mother's intuition". That was bullshit. I had no idea- all I knew was that I wanted a little girl so badly. I had these vividly clear pictures of me with my daughter and could not, at all, picture myself with a boy. I've had her name picked out since the pee hit the stick. I have her entire wardrobe picked out online. I felt horrible because I knew I would be disappointed if they said it was a boy. I knew that wouldn't be fair to my son. After all, his penis wouldn't be his fault. So, I just kept saying "boy" to keep my hopes firmly grounded. 

But, last night, Papa-to-be, Kelsey, my dad and I went to the Ultrasound lab. I lay on the table, the contents of my now-huge belly projected onto a 100 inch screen in front of us. Speakers pumped the galloping heartbeat into the room. Kelsey held her phone up so Amy could hear it. I cried. And, there it was, my baby's perfect fist. Fingers curled up, the curve of a perfectly stacked spine, the round of a tiny head. I couldn't breathe. "Is he healthy?", I asked.

"Actually", the ultrasound tech answered, "It's a girl. But, yes, she looks perfect". 

I cried again. I should have trusted my mother's intuition after all. 

I knew it was you, Miss Kaya Holiday, and I can't wait to meet you.

Not cool, baby. Not cool.

We spent the 4th of July weekend in Big Bear with my entire family- my parents, sisters, grandparents, uncles and cousins. We broke the news soon after arriving, not because we couldn't wait but because my belly is no longer very good at keeping secrets. The reaction was more than I ever could have hoped for. Watching Papa-to-be play drinking games with my 80 year old grandmother, I realized- this kid is so lucky. Being born into this amazing family will make up for getting stuck with me. 

So, the weekend was great. We barbecued, we (very carefully) jet-skied, we sat on blankets lakeside and watched fireworks. The burden of kept secrets gone, I was able to start really getting excited about the tiny life growing inside of me. But, Sunday, I started bleeding and cramping. After talking to my mom and grandma (who have 9 kids, collectively), I was convinced that it was normal for this early in pregnancy to have a little bit of that. But then, Tuesday afternoon, while in Long Beach visiting Papa-to-be's people, the bleeding got heavy and the pain was enough to scare me and I ended up in the ER at Long Beach Memorial Hospital.

We spent 6 hours in the waiting room, sure we were losing our baby, while I begged someone to let me see a doctor. By 3 in the morning, I was laying on a stretcher while an Ultrasound Tech ran a wand over my belly. She smiled. "You've got an active little one", she said. I finally remembered to breathe. Four days later, I was released from the hospital. Just a little tear in the placenta. Baby's fine. I'm fine. Papa-to-be faired the worst- sleeping on a chair at my bedside for nearly a week. 

I hadn't realized how much I love you already until you scared me like that. Not cool, baby. Not cool.

It's official...

We went to the doctor this morning. It's official.

You have no idea what you're in for, kid.

and so it begins...

Walking home (half drunk), I said (half kidding) "I think I might be pregnant". Lauren had a home pregnancy test in her purse (don't ask). Never thought a stream of pee could change my life.

Sorry about all the Jack Daniels, little stowaway, I didn't know you were in there. It won't happen again.