The first 24 hours has passed- I was a damn mess yesterday- crying when one of my bosses walks in my office. Ugh talk about embarrassing. I feel much better about it all- however, I realized last night that the gender balance is now WAY off in my house...and I have a feeling there's a little boy on the way. Pickles was my second in command. My little GF.
So going through our routines without our little Cooks was a little sad yesterday/today- normally she would bellow when we come home pissed that no one has fed her yet, she's "helped" me cooking trying to sample my dishes by hoping on the counter COUNTLESS times during the process, crawled in the crook of our knees/rear ends when we lounge on the couch. HOP UP ON DOORS USING NOTHING BUT THE TOWEL HANGING TO GET UP THERE FOR A BETTER VIEW OF THINGS. (I had a dream she repeated this move as I was stirring to get up this morning- rather than the door, she was on the exposed beams of our boudoir.)
Normally we do not let the cats upstairs when we sleep- I don't like the animules (pronounced anna-myools) sleeping on top of the covers so my thrashing about throughout the night is restricted or hogging up the whole bed which they tend to do. Last night, Todd suggested to "make the cats feel better about losing Cookie" (ha) we should let Scamp and Mahalo stay upstairs. I knew by "cats" he meant "him" feel better so I let it slide.
Scamp took a spot on top of the dresser next to Todd's side of the bed. TBone placed his glasses on the dresser next to the cat, flopped down into bed, we turned out the lights. Not fifteen seconds goes by and I hear the familiar sound of glasses hitting the hardwood floor.
"Oh thanks, Scamp!" Todd chirped.
Todd places glasses on the other dresser. Another ten seconds goes by. I hear another object hit the hard wood (it was the back massager thing.)
"Ohhhhhkaaaay, thanks, Scamp. No cats upstairs," laughs Todd.
We both smiled. Thought of Mrs. Cookie. Todd returned to bed and we dozed off.
Today is my 36 week Fancy check up. I keep telling Fancy Pants that any time after s/he feels cooked and ready to come out that I'm game. Although I know that babies are still considered premature at 36 weeks...but I can't seem to find anything about babes being born between those magical 36th and 37th weeks. I know, I know, babies are easier to take care of when they're in their mom's bellies...but I want this little bugger to come out and play (more importantly I want to take off for 8-12 weeks.)
Also- all preg friends (and not preg friends who might have a babe one day) check out this little read: http://www.hypnobirthing.com/
It's really good- talks about pain management and our association with pain but more interestingly how views of women and the birthing experience have changed over the years and back in the 16th century when the Bible was re-translated the connotation of the word labor changed for women. Interesting stuff. I'm starting to get excited for Fancy to come the way I did during the hours leading up to when we would go out to Bootleggers in college...those were NEVER bad nights.
So going through our routines without our little Cooks was a little sad yesterday/today- normally she would bellow when we come home pissed that no one has fed her yet, she's "helped" me cooking trying to sample my dishes by hoping on the counter COUNTLESS times during the process, crawled in the crook of our knees/rear ends when we lounge on the couch. HOP UP ON DOORS USING NOTHING BUT THE TOWEL HANGING TO GET UP THERE FOR A BETTER VIEW OF THINGS. (I had a dream she repeated this move as I was stirring to get up this morning- rather than the door, she was on the exposed beams of our boudoir.)Normally we do not let the cats upstairs when we sleep- I don't like the animules (pronounced anna-myools) sleeping on top of the covers so my thrashing about throughout the night is restricted or hogging up the whole bed which they tend to do. Last night, Todd suggested to "make the cats feel better about losing Cookie" (ha) we should let Scamp and Mahalo stay upstairs. I knew by "cats" he meant "him" feel better so I let it slide.
Scamp took a spot on top of the dresser next to Todd's side of the bed. TBone placed his glasses on the dresser next to the cat, flopped down into bed, we turned out the lights. Not fifteen seconds goes by and I hear the familiar sound of glasses hitting the hardwood floor.
"Oh thanks, Scamp!" Todd chirped.
Todd places glasses on the other dresser. Another ten seconds goes by. I hear another object hit the hard wood (it was the back massager thing.)
"Ohhhhhkaaaay, thanks, Scamp. No cats upstairs," laughs Todd.
We both smiled. Thought of Mrs. Cookie. Todd returned to bed and we dozed off.
Today is my 36 week Fancy check up. I keep telling Fancy Pants that any time after s/he feels cooked and ready to come out that I'm game. Although I know that babies are still considered premature at 36 weeks...but I can't seem to find anything about babes being born between those magical 36th and 37th weeks. I know, I know, babies are easier to take care of when they're in their mom's bellies...but I want this little bugger to come out and play (more importantly I want to take off for 8-12 weeks.)
Also- all preg friends (and not preg friends who might have a babe one day) check out this little read: http://www.hypnobirthing.com/
It's really good- talks about pain management and our association with pain but more interestingly how views of women and the birthing experience have changed over the years and back in the 16th century when the Bible was re-translated the connotation of the word labor changed for women. Interesting stuff. I'm starting to get excited for Fancy to come the way I did during the hours leading up to when we would go out to Bootleggers in college...those were NEVER bad nights.
Comments
You are getting so close! Can you please post a play-by-play of labor after the big day? I need to be prepared. :)