Professionally Pregnant

Round III of our 3^rd pregnancy’s doctor appointments commenced today. I am a pro at the whole routine now and like to bask in the little things that make these appointments so exciting (and later annoying).

Little Thing #1

I fist-pumped at the fact that the elevator was already on the 1^st floor and awaiting our entry when we got there. First-timers wouldn’t know this but the elevator in that building is S-L-O-W and God forbid it be on any floor other than 1 when you arrive. You’ll be standing there a long damn time – enough to make you late for your appointment.

Little Thing #2

The scent of latex and hand sanitizer. It is distinct and oh-so familiar as soon as you step off the painstakingly slow elevator.  When that clean, sterile waft hits me, I imagine I’m 36 weeks pregnant and ready to pop. Soooo, I’ve got a ways to go.

Little Thing #3

While checking in, I know to automatically grab the code for the exit gate in the parking lot. The newbies before me didn’t do this and I watched as they drove around the gate because they didn’t know there was an exit code. That’ll learn ‘em. I will have this memorized by the appointment 3 and be proud of it.

Little Thing #4

Pee tests. I know to bring my own permanent marker with me strictly for use on the pee cups. Why? Because the frayed, overused and dried up marker they have in the bathroom will no longer write on the pee cups because they are frayed, overused and dried up. You basically end up etching your name in the cup with your car key.

Little Thing #5

Staring in awe at the strep B test instructions while giving your urine sample, both excited for it because doing it means you’re close to the end, but also horrified by it because well…look it up. I always look forward to telling Kyle about the experience afterward so he can be almost as disgusted as I am by the whole thing. Good times.

Little Thing #6

I no longer have to ask for help in trying to read ultrasounds. I can correctly identify each body part within the grainy mess of a sonogram. Penis? Phalange? Nope, it’s the umbilical cord. I might as well be certified.

Little Thing #7

The wrench. There’s always something involving pregnancy protocol that has changed since your last pregnancy. Just to keep things interesting, I think they throw a wrench into things, an extra no-no, an additional SOP, a quirky extra step. I go back in a month. I wasn’t expecting to go back for at least 8 weeks, like with my first two. Cool, an extra pee test…and another co-pay.

Little Thing #8

Kyle and I have a routine post-appointment lunch at Chef’s In. Every time I eat there, pregnant or not, it makes me happy. This is where I eat when I’m pregnant (smile).

Now that everything is confirmed I’m ready to rock this out. I’m looking forward to big appointments, pointless annoying ones, new belly kicks, getting fat, the countdown, my hospital stay, a new little face to love and three months off of work. Let’s get rowdy baby!

The Splendid Stare

The other day I visited my mom for lunch. She works at a hospital so we will have lunch together on occasion in the cafeteria. The Maternity Ward (is it still a “Maternity Ward” or is it just “Maternity” now? “Ward” sounds dark to me…) is en route to the cafeteria and every time I walk past it, I’m instantly drawn to it and can’t wait until my next visit. Part of me just wants to walk in and randomly visit new mothers and their babies. I distinctly remember both of my visits, walking down the long hall to the check-in desk. “Aubrey Kitzmiller, I’m in labor.” I’m instantly giddy. I remember how hysterically happy I was when my water broke with Eden. Happy because I knew birth was imminent and also because contractions hadn’t started. I couldn’t stop smiling – I’m not going to be pregnant anymore!! Hip hip hooray! Anyway, enough of the flashbacks.

So I am walking toward the cafeteria and spot this new dad (tired and staggering, lugging copious amounts of bags, flowers, pillows, and the like) and the new mom being wheeled by a volunteer behind him. She was holding her newborn and just staring. I was sure it was their first. You look at your firstborn differently. You hate to admit it but you do. The whole experience is completely new and no matter what you tried to prepare for in your head, the reality is different. She looked at him/her in complete awe, as if it was the most magnificent thing she’s ever seen. She was completely dumbfounded and in her own world. I instantly teared up. I was witnessing her falling in complete, perfect love with her child. Congratulations to whoever the new mother was. Thank you for unknowingly sharing your moment with me. I wish you luck, sleep and easy breastfeeding.

On my way back from lunch, I stopped at the Maternity (Ward?) doors and peered down the hall. I wondered who was in the waiting room, awaiting the arrival of their new family member. I wondered if any unlucky woman was going through labor right that second. I wondered what my third walk down that hall would hold. What room will I be in (the corner one rocked the first time around)? Which nurses will I draw in the volatile nurse lottery? How large will this baby be? I can’t wait. I’m eager to meet him/her even now, ready to stare…and fall in love again. 

Pregnancy Cornucopia

To your left each week you'll notice a new fruit or vegetable representing the size of hellraiser baby #3. By the end, I hope to have accrued quite the salad.

You might be one of those people who says, "Why would you dare compare your baby to fruit?! It's a work of art...blah blah blah." If I took my pregnancies that seriously, I'd be a friggin' lunatic and have completely lost my mind by 20 weeks. Shut up. It's a size reference, it's not that I think my fetus is an inanimate, edible, object or that they should grow on trees   -    what if babies grew on trees!?

You may want to note that since I have unusually large babies, I'll probably be 2-4 weeks ahead in fruit/veggie speak. For example, right now I should be housing a grape but it's more likely a fig or lime. By this rationale, in 32 more weeks, I may be carrying one of those prize-winning pumpkins. I can't wait and neither can my unaccommodating body.