Scratch that. I let this go as a draft for so long, I'm now a couple days into my third trimester. So consider this another review. Sorry.
On January 9th, I went in for a quick, spur-of-the-moment check up due to some spotting. It wasn't much, but it had been going on for a few days. I admit, it really shook me. I was just over 14 weeks along and thought I had finally gotten past the danger zone and could relax a little. I called the office and they had me come in that afternoon. Thankfully, it was just due to some... vaginal wear and tear, ahem, and I was told to take it easy until my regular appointment a week later. Also, finally heard the heartbeat! Cried, of course. It was such a relief at that point.
Felt my first flutters a little over 14 weeks and by 16-17 weeks, they were steady. Felt the first real kicks right around week 20. I think I'd been feeling them for maybe a week before that, but I didn't realize that what it was. I thought it was weird gas or something. We rented a fetal doppler though and on February 15th, I was listening to her and I heard the "swoosh" they said indicates movement and, at the same time, I felt that familiar strange "gas". February 27th, John was able to feel it from the outside and we could both watch my belly jump around.
Back up to February 10th, though... Our big ultrasound. The one everyone waits for. We went in really expecting a boy. When we went for our NT screen u/s at the end of December, the doctor wouldn't commit because it was still so early, but we all saw something and he kind of let us leave thinking it probably was. We'd been calling the baby a he (or even Sammy) every now and then. We'd bought some blue stuff. (We didn't really want to, but Ms. Marianna was in town during the December u/s so of course she couldn't control herself.) We'd pretty much planned out the nursery. We show up on the 10th and the tech starts doing her thing and taking her measurements. She asked if we wanted to know the sex and we cut her off with a big joint "Yes!" Of course, once again, the baby was extremely uncooperative and wouldn't show off the goods. The tech said she'd finish up her stuff and come back to it later. Ugh. Well, the baby wouldn
't even let her do what she needed to do, so I had to take a break, go to the bathroom, and literally dance around the exam room for about 10 minutes to try to shake him or her around a little. Finally the tech was able to get everything she needed, but still couldn't get a decent view between the legs. We waited for the doctor to come in and sign off on everything and they tried one last time. It wasn't the best or most convenient view, but Dr. Pelham said "I can't explain exactly what I see, but I can pretty much promise you what I DON'T see." They said they felt pretty certain it was a little girl. (If you couldn't guess from the updated blog color scheme anyway.)
Now I always wanted a little girl. I even wanted a girl first since I loved being a big sister so much. But, and I hated myself for it, when they said that, I was a little heartbroken. John turned right around with a huge smile and said "A girl, babe! We have a daughter!" but I just kind of sat there quietly. It was weird. I always thought it'd be the other way around; that I'd be so excited and he'd have been a little bummed he didn't get his mini-John, but nope. We went out to the car and I cried a little. John was confused. About an hour later, I was fine. I was better than fine, I was SO excited. I think what had happened--and it's my own fault for assuming anything when we didn't know for sure--was that I had gotten myself so attached to the idea of myself with a little boy that it was almost like they took him away from me when they said he was actually a she. I felt like "Where'd my Sammy go?" I don't think I was ever upset about having a daughter, because I really, truly love the idea, I just think I had to take a minute to let go of having a son and mourn in a way. I don't know if that'll make any sense to anyone, but it's just how I felt.
Now, however, we are in full-blown pink mode. We are both so ready for this little stinkmuffin to get here. I love that John loves the idea of a girl, too. In the very beginning, he wanted a boy, of course. Very standard reaction. As the time to find out got closer and closer, I worried how he'd react if it was a girl. I had this fear he wouldn't be as excited, that I'd have let him down in some way, even though I know I have no control over what kind of kid it ended up being. But, nope. He was pretty much over the moon when we heard. And now, almost two months later, he told me that if a doctor came along and told us they made a mistake and that it was actually a boy, he'd be sad. How cute is that?
What else? Oh, February 19th, at 20 weeks, we had our first 3D/4D ultrasound! They recommend doing a bigger, longer one later on (we're scheduled for around 29/30 weeks) when the baby has put on all that cute fat and looks like a real human, but they do a quick 10 minute one between 18-24 weeks to confirm sex and give you a preview. Well Gemma (Oh! That's her name, by the way. Gemma Rae. Rae in memory of my mom, of course. And Gemma... well, I told John he could have first shot at her first name since I picked the middle and he wanted something Italian. That's what he came up with and everyone loves it.) Anyway, Gemma was her usual self. She has now been deemed "one of the most uncooperative babies ever" by, count 'em, THREE different doctors. She spent a lot of the time with her arms up around her head and face like we were paparazzi. She wasn't an alien baby, though! She looked decidedly and very clearly human. And she finally got with the program and showed us her beautiful little face. Already, at only 20 weeks, I think she looked very much like John. I mean, you can really see it in a couple of the face pictures. Or at least I can, but I guess I spend more time looking at his face than most people out there.
Other than that, the rest of second tri until now has been rather uneventful. Belly's really getting rounder. She continues to do her daily martial arts and DDR sessions in there and I love it. The registry is done (or as "done" as a registry ever is, I'm constantly tweaking), the nursery is ready to be worked on if we could find any time, the paint is bought, the crib is in and ready to be picked up, we've done a few clothes runs. I'm in serious need of new clothes now that the weather is changing and all my spring and summer clothes from last year were from my wedding-ready body. (I miss being almost little and kind of in shape! It was the only time in my life I've ever been remotely close. SNIFF.)
Oh, well, okay. I lied. There was an "event" recently, but it wasn't a physical thing. I got a call from a woman in billing at my OB's office asking me to call her back. I was dreading it because I knew I had a bill or two (or four) overdue and figured they were going to start harassing me about it. That would've been such an easier headache to deal with than what it really was. She said that somehow it had been overlooked by everyone that my insurance didn't actually cover my maternity care. Now we're talking about a seriously messed up situation here: This was a policy we were paying for ourselves, with money we didn't have, simply in the event I was to get pregnant soon. I got it before I was pregnant and specifically asked the representative I spoke with if maternity was covered. She said yes. On top of all that, they had been PAYING my bills. I had been getting statements for months telling me how much they paid out and what my share was. They paid it! Well, someone somewhere in the chain caught on (to what, I don't know, since I was told I was covered) and they let my doctor's office know that not only would they not be paying for anything else prenatal/delivery/postnatal, they were going to be recalling all the money they already put out! I don't even know if they can really do that, but they said they were. So that left us in a scramble. It was too late to try to get insurance through another company because they would consider the pregnancy a pre-existing condition and I'd have to sit through a waiting period longer than I had left. We broke down and did what we never wanted to do... Went to Medical Assistance. So thankfully, after a few days of absolute panic and insanity trying to figure things out, it all worked out okay for now.
I'm finally back to finish this on April 9th. I'm officially in my third trimester. Lame. I mean it's really great I am, we're so excited and ready for this baby, but it's seriously ridiculous I can't keep up to date with this thing.
Since my last whack at this entry, the nursery has been painted. And, yes. It's pink. Never thought we were those people, but we couldn't help ourselves. It's a good pink, though. Crib's up. It's gorgeous. Got a mattress. We're waiting to set up the chair because Gus would just lay in it and get the cushions all cat-hairy. We got this amazing (and insanely expensive) crib and chair that we love, thanks to Ms. Marianna, but it left us with kind of a dilemma. We have zero money to put into any other furniture for her room and she was still without dresser or armoire. (We have to have an armoire since there's no closet.) Well, we were out last week and John wanted to stop at Goodwill to do a flannel run through. I protested, of course, but relented, opting to wait in the car. A couple minutes later, he calls me and says I need to come in for a minute. I whine, but go. He's standing there with this dresser that, once sanded and restained the appropriate shade, matches the crib perfectly. I was pretty surprised. And it only cost us fifty bucks. (The armoire that went with the crib in the baby store was $2000.) So, we knocked one thing out. Then I had the idea that Billy could easily make us a matching armoire, to our exact specifications. Shari agreed and called him. He didn't hesitate. So, yay! Furniture is taken care of, $50 later. Such a relief.
And so ends the second trimester. Let's move on before I lose my momentum.
On January 9th, I went in for a quick, spur-of-the-moment check up due to some spotting. It wasn't much, but it had been going on for a few days. I admit, it really shook me. I was just over 14 weeks along and thought I had finally gotten past the danger zone and could relax a little. I called the office and they had me come in that afternoon. Thankfully, it was just due to some... vaginal wear and tear, ahem, and I was told to take it easy until my regular appointment a week later. Also, finally heard the heartbeat! Cried, of course. It was such a relief at that point.
Felt my first flutters a little over 14 weeks and by 16-17 weeks, they were steady. Felt the first real kicks right around week 20. I think I'd been feeling them for maybe a week before that, but I didn't realize that what it was. I thought it was weird gas or something. We rented a fetal doppler though and on February 15th, I was listening to her and I heard the "swoosh" they said indicates movement and, at the same time, I felt that familiar strange "gas". February 27th, John was able to feel it from the outside and we could both watch my belly jump around.
Back up to February 10th, though... Our big ultrasound. The one everyone waits for. We went in really expecting a boy. When we went for our NT screen u/s at the end of December, the doctor wouldn't commit because it was still so early, but we all saw something and he kind of let us leave thinking it probably was. We'd been calling the baby a he (or even Sammy) every now and then. We'd bought some blue stuff. (We didn't really want to, but Ms. Marianna was in town during the December u/s so of course she couldn't control herself.) We'd pretty much planned out the nursery. We show up on the 10th and the tech starts doing her thing and taking her measurements. She asked if we wanted to know the sex and we cut her off with a big joint "Yes!" Of course, once again, the baby was extremely uncooperative and wouldn't show off the goods. The tech said she'd finish up her stuff and come back to it later. Ugh. Well, the baby wouldn
't even let her do what she needed to do, so I had to take a break, go to the bathroom, and literally dance around the exam room for about 10 minutes to try to shake him or her around a little. Finally the tech was able to get everything she needed, but still couldn't get a decent view between the legs. We waited for the doctor to come in and sign off on everything and they tried one last time. It wasn't the best or most convenient view, but Dr. Pelham said "I can't explain exactly what I see, but I can pretty much promise you what I DON'T see." They said they felt pretty certain it was a little girl. (If you couldn't guess from the updated blog color scheme anyway.)Now I always wanted a little girl. I even wanted a girl first since I loved being a big sister so much. But, and I hated myself for it, when they said that, I was a little heartbroken. John turned right around with a huge smile and said "A girl, babe! We have a daughter!" but I just kind of sat there quietly. It was weird. I always thought it'd be the other way around; that I'd be so excited and he'd have been a little bummed he didn't get his mini-John, but nope. We went out to the car and I cried a little. John was confused. About an hour later, I was fine. I was better than fine, I was SO excited. I think what had happened--and it's my own fault for assuming anything when we didn't know for sure--was that I had gotten myself so attached to the idea of myself with a little boy that it was almost like they took him away from me when they said he was actually a she. I felt like "Where'd my Sammy go?" I don't think I was ever upset about having a daughter, because I really, truly love the idea, I just think I had to take a minute to let go of having a son and mourn in a way. I don't know if that'll make any sense to anyone, but it's just how I felt.
Now, however, we are in full-blown pink mode. We are both so ready for this little stinkmuffin to get here. I love that John loves the idea of a girl, too. In the very beginning, he wanted a boy, of course. Very standard reaction. As the time to find out got closer and closer, I worried how he'd react if it was a girl. I had this fear he wouldn't be as excited, that I'd have let him down in some way, even though I know I have no control over what kind of kid it ended up being. But, nope. He was pretty much over the moon when we heard. And now, almost two months later, he told me that if a doctor came along and told us they made a mistake and that it was actually a boy, he'd be sad. How cute is that?
What else? Oh, February 19th, at 20 weeks, we had our first 3D/4D ultrasound! They recommend doing a bigger, longer one later on (we're scheduled for around 29/30 weeks) when the baby has put on all that cute fat and looks like a real human, but they do a quick 10 minute one between 18-24 weeks to confirm sex and give you a preview. Well Gemma (Oh! That's her name, by the way. Gemma Rae. Rae in memory of my mom, of course. And Gemma... well, I told John he could have first shot at her first name since I picked the middle and he wanted something Italian. That's what he came up with and everyone loves it.) Anyway, Gemma was her usual self. She has now been deemed "one of the most uncooperative babies ever" by, count 'em, THREE different doctors. She spent a lot of the time with her arms up around her head and face like we were paparazzi. She wasn't an alien baby, though! She looked decidedly and very clearly human. And she finally got with the program and showed us her beautiful little face. Already, at only 20 weeks, I think she looked very much like John. I mean, you can really see it in a couple of the face pictures. Or at least I can, but I guess I spend more time looking at his face than most people out there.
Other than that, the rest of second tri until now has been rather uneventful. Belly's really getting rounder. She continues to do her daily martial arts and DDR sessions in there and I love it. The registry is done (or as "done" as a registry ever is, I'm constantly tweaking), the nursery is ready to be worked on if we could find any time, the paint is bought, the crib is in and ready to be picked up, we've done a few clothes runs. I'm in serious need of new clothes now that the weather is changing and all my spring and summer clothes from last year were from my wedding-ready body. (I miss being almost little and kind of in shape! It was the only time in my life I've ever been remotely close. SNIFF.)
Oh, well, okay. I lied. There was an "event" recently, but it wasn't a physical thing. I got a call from a woman in billing at my OB's office asking me to call her back. I was dreading it because I knew I had a bill or two (or four) overdue and figured they were going to start harassing me about it. That would've been such an easier headache to deal with than what it really was. She said that somehow it had been overlooked by everyone that my insurance didn't actually cover my maternity care. Now we're talking about a seriously messed up situation here: This was a policy we were paying for ourselves, with money we didn't have, simply in the event I was to get pregnant soon. I got it before I was pregnant and specifically asked the representative I spoke with if maternity was covered. She said yes. On top of all that, they had been PAYING my bills. I had been getting statements for months telling me how much they paid out and what my share was. They paid it! Well, someone somewhere in the chain caught on (to what, I don't know, since I was told I was covered) and they let my doctor's office know that not only would they not be paying for anything else prenatal/delivery/postnatal, they were going to be recalling all the money they already put out! I don't even know if they can really do that, but they said they were. So that left us in a scramble. It was too late to try to get insurance through another company because they would consider the pregnancy a pre-existing condition and I'd have to sit through a waiting period longer than I had left. We broke down and did what we never wanted to do... Went to Medical Assistance. So thankfully, after a few days of absolute panic and insanity trying to figure things out, it all worked out okay for now.
I'm finally back to finish this on April 9th. I'm officially in my third trimester. Lame. I mean it's really great I am, we're so excited and ready for this baby, but it's seriously ridiculous I can't keep up to date with this thing.
Since my last whack at this entry, the nursery has been painted. And, yes. It's pink. Never thought we were those people, but we couldn't help ourselves. It's a good pink, though. Crib's up. It's gorgeous. Got a mattress. We're waiting to set up the chair because Gus would just lay in it and get the cushions all cat-hairy. We got this amazing (and insanely expensive) crib and chair that we love, thanks to Ms. Marianna, but it left us with kind of a dilemma. We have zero money to put into any other furniture for her room and she was still without dresser or armoire. (We have to have an armoire since there's no closet.) Well, we were out last week and John wanted to stop at Goodwill to do a flannel run through. I protested, of course, but relented, opting to wait in the car. A couple minutes later, he calls me and says I need to come in for a minute. I whine, but go. He's standing there with this dresser that, once sanded and restained the appropriate shade, matches the crib perfectly. I was pretty surprised. And it only cost us fifty bucks. (The armoire that went with the crib in the baby store was $2000.) So, we knocked one thing out. Then I had the idea that Billy could easily make us a matching armoire, to our exact specifications. Shari agreed and called him. He didn't hesitate. So, yay! Furniture is taken care of, $50 later. Such a relief.
And so ends the second trimester. Let's move on before I lose my momentum.
Belly update: Second trimester...
