OK, so today was a little better. Not like work was much better, but I can only worry about it so much. Maybe more tomorrow. Just not today.

No, today had its own worry: Veronica's movements. Or infrequency thereof.

A little background as to my baby's day:

Most days, she goes into three "fiesty" periods where she's just a little flurry of activity. She gets her morning fiesties when I'm in the shower or eating breakfast. Her mid-day fiesties happen between 1:30 and 3 in the afternoon, when I'm at my desk at work. And then there's her evening fiesties, which last from around 9-10 in at night until I go to bed.

In addition to this routinue, she has days where she is just beating the hell out of me. Have you seen the movie "Alien"? Yeah, kinda like she's trying that. These days are always followed by a mellow day, where she only moves enough to keep me from totally panicking - I think she's just regaining her strength.

So onto today: Sunday was one of her busy, rough days. Monday was a rest day. So I expected normal activity to resume today. Imagine how worried I was when she barely moved this morning and throughout the day. When she didn't perk up this afternoon, I called the doctor's office and ended up going in to get her heartbeat checked. Oh, she's fine, she just decided to settle to my lower abdomen all day for whatever reason. When the nurse tried to find her heartbeat, she kept moving around to avoid the stethoscope for a while. She's just stubborn, she's got her own mind - she's fine but she scared the hell out of me. I love her more than ever. I'm hoping she is OK. Until she gives me another Alien day, I'll probably still be worried. Work seems so insignificant in comparison.

Another thing I've just realized: We're going to lose all our friends. Even now, they're all getting bored hearing about baby stuff, pregnancy stuff, etc., and I even try my best not to mention it so often. Jason's playing Magic with his guy friends now, but I fear they will not come around anymore with a little one here. None of our close friends are parents, nor do they have any close friends who are. We're not having a child at a really odd age - I'm 27, Jason turns 28 in April - so why can none of our friends relate?

I dread going back into work tomorrow. I've screwed up so many things in the past few months, because I was learning a new position with little training, but I'm going to be in deep shit if I can't fix them. I'm stressed as can be, fearful that I will not have a job anymore - and my health insurance, all of my pre-natal appointments, are through my workplace.

Even worse, I fear that if something should happen that I would have to leave work sooner than my due date, that I will not have a job to come back to, as I'm so backed up. Not like it won't be bad enough, only having 2 or so weeks of my maternity leave paid (provided I don't get sick before that - that's my personal days, sick days, and vacation days for the year.) Plus, once again, health insurance issues - I'd have to forego any post-natal checkups without it, we really couldn't afford it.

Not like we can afford childcare, anyway. We need to have Veronica in a place where, even starting in infancy, she is cared for and paid attention to, not just set down until she cries. Jason has found a wonderful place where he services an aquarium; only problems are, they have a 12-month waiting list, and they charge $980 a month. That's almost our mortgage payment - we could just buy another house with that sort of money. But I fear that anyplace cheaper will neglect her. And it's not like we have a lot of time to go over options, as I'm already in my 26th week (only 14 to go) and I have to work so much to catch up.

I feel like a slug. For the first time in a few weeks, I didn't work this weekend, and I didn't work any overtime today. Not like I have a lot of overtime, anyway - one week I had to make up time for my last prenatal appointment, another I had to make up time for getting to work so late after being stuck in traffic. The bitter cold weather means icy roads, and there's always a wreck to delay me, no matter if I leave earlier or not. Which never happens, because I'm so exhausted that I oversleep almost every morning.

Jason says not to worry. He says even if I get in trouble at work, it will only last a day. Oh how little he knows. They hold grudges at my office. Our last pregnant co-worker - I heard that the HR manager said she would've been fired if she hadn't been pregnant, and this woman had been with the firm for years. Worse yet, she had fertility problems and a subsequently rough pregnancy. Other women who work there are mothers, and none of them have cut me a bit of slack, meaning that I'm just a hypochondriac to think that I'm fatigued or absent-minded because I'm pregnant. I have to get my stuff together, and alone, because no one's going to help me. I need to stay awake longer - I left on time tonight just because I wanted to sleep so badly, but I did that all weekend. I shouldn't need any more extra rest. I didn't need to fall asleep on the sofa tonight for over an hour. I need to just FOCUS.

I probably will not be posting for a while. I need to look into daycare, schedule follow-up appointments, refill prescriptions, and start budgeting money for my maternity leave. Plus I need to start working more overtime. I'm going to look into getting Word on my computer so I can do things at home too, once I've left the office. (Which would be better, my right hand is going numb on the mouse at work, like someone's hit my funny bone, but it's not quite so bad here at home, where I have a wrist assist and a track ball instead.) If I can manage all this, I should be OK. But I won't be sleeping until then. Not only am I too worried to do so, I really don't have the time. And part of me wonders if I'm just being lazy for being here tonight, at 10:15 p.m., and for not being back at work.

How stressed am I, as of late?

Put it this way: The way my language is shaping up right now, Veronica's first word is probably going to consist of four letters. And it ain't gonna be "mama." :-P

We had a girl quit at work. No, not the good ole', responsible, I'm-putting-in-my-two-weeks notice. No, more like a take-this-job-and-shove-it, as she went to lunch one day and decided not to come back. Being that my department was already working to maximum capacity BEFORE she left, you can imagine the fun we're all having now. Adding to the delight? The woman who knows the most in our department is going on a vacation for a week (grandparents' 60th wedding anniversary, in Florida - she's had this one planned for a while, but let's face it, in light of new developments, the timing SUCKS.) I'm getting in overtime, but I'm also not sleeping well. I come home and turn into a slug.

At least slugs are small. I have no clue where my belly is at any given moment. Seriously, you laugh, but I'll think I've cleared something - a table, a file drawer, another person - only to have my huge abdomen at least brush against it. (Even more embarrassing? Overcompensating the wrong direction and having my big ass knocking something over. Sheesh.) I'm not used to this protrusion several inches out of my midsection!

Registering at Babies R Us was so overwhelming too. I didn't know such a little person could need that much stuff. I mean, you've got the obvious things: Clothes, diapers, crib, etc. But did you ever think of burp clothes? Swaddling blankets? Even if you have, trust me, Babies R Us will have the most absurd items that you would never dream about, yet upon seeing them you're convinced you MUST HAVE them or else you're the lousiest mother on the planet. Never mind the fact that my mom didn't have even half this crap when she had me, and even less when she had my sister years before.

The funniest thing we saw was (natch) in the potty training section. It was this product that I believe was called Piddle Pellets. What are Piddle Pellets, you may ask? Well, they're little foam rings that come in packs of thirty, and they are used to help potty train a little boy. See, if his aim is JUST RIGHT, and his pee hits the foam ring, it disappears! What great fun! Jason believes this product would produce the best drinking game ever....although I personally think it should follow up the best drinking game ever, a Piddle Pellet chaser, if you will.......

All this baby product stuff, though, is enough to make your head explode. What the hell am I supposed to do with the petroleum jelly?! Why do the towels need little hoods? Why are there, like, five types of blankets, all with different purposes? Did I get the right car seat? Did I get the right crib? Her mobile is in pastel colours but infants see brights and high contrasts better - if we keep the one we have, will we be stunting her visual development? Will she go to sleep without a teddy bear nearby that makes sounds like those of my womb? Is she going to be stupid because I'm not playing classical music to my abdomen, even though she seems to be getting down with the Dixie Chicks, Dave Matthews, and Foo Fighters? AAAAAHHHHH!!!!!!!

I have to keep telling myself, look, Maranie, you're not a raving idiot, and all you had was a barnyard animal mobile and your mom singing you lullabies with a smoker's rasp. You are a complete headcase, but that had nothing to do with a lack of white noise in the nursery or hooded towels. You didn't listen to classical music, you listened to disco as a baby and you loved it! I need to just relax, tell myself we have too many towels as it is, and accept the fact that while Veronica doesn't seem to like conventional lullabies, she does like to hear me hum "Hungry Like the Wolf."

I have to keep telling myself, this isn't an exact science, no one knows what the hell they're doing right off the bat, and that Jason and I will just do our best. That should be good enough. It will have to be.

Tonight was spent registering for items at Babies R Us for little Veronica.

Damn. She's gonna need a lot of stuff. We're not even done yet, and we've already got several hundred dollars worth of items earmarked for her. I can't help it, though. I already love her so much. Enough so that she has to have everything. And very little of it will be pink. :-)

A quick post before "Farscape" comes on:

We found out Kiddo's gender today. I was very much mistaken in referring to the baby as "he."

Kiddo is a girl! Her name will be Veronica Hope Warren. And all looks well for all of us. :-)

Just a quick note on how I'm feeling today:

Although stress and a bit of depression are at play, I'd say overall that I'm very happy. I'm truly blessed at this moment. I've got a good job, a nice car, a cozy home (with a new roof over my head!) But what I feel really truly blessed about is my wonderful husband and this amazing new life growing inside of me. They are what makes the rest of it worthwhile, what makes me happy to wake up every morning and go to sleep every night.

The fact that the snowfall outside is so pretty doesn't hurt anything either. :-)

Not much of an entry, to be sure. But I spend so much time and space on bitching and whining, that when I just have to say something good, I cannot resist nor make excuses for not doing so. :-)

Uh. Looks like it's been a while since I've updated this puppy.

Well, it's understandable, I'd say, given the lack of sleep, time, and overall energy that I've been experiencing, not to mention moodiness. I told Jason I was suffering from "fits of melancholy," which cracked his ass up. He said it's like having "attacks of lethargy," but hey, I'm having those too.

Sleep is an ever-going battle with me. First off, there's the tossing and turning. If I land on my back, I snore so loudly that I either wake myself up, or wake Jason up, leading him to prod me and say "turn on your side!" According to Baby Center, this is a normal side-effect of pregnancy. Yay. I'm ecstatic. :-P

Then there's the awakening, with numb legs that feel as heavy and dead as tree trunks. Attached to these dead legs are swollen, red feet, which nicely match my swollen fingers. I call them my clown feet and sausage fingers. The sausage fingers are so bad that I can no longer safely wear my wedding band without cutting off circulation (just as well, since I've had it off now for almost two weeks and you can STILL SEE the imprint of the ring around my finger.) The feet, well, I've just blown who knows how many dollars at Payless to get shoes a half-size bigger than I normally wear. So all in all, when you're dealing with numb hands, numb feet, and positively useless legs, getting out of bed is quite the hassle. Add the total lack o' balance due to what seems like half your body weight being concentrated in your midsection, and getting out of bed is about damned near IMPOSSIBLE. I'm shocked I don't need a pulley system or something.

What woke me up last night, at 4:38 a.m., was not the snoring or Jason's prodding, but a flurry of activity from the baby. This kid is a gymnast. This kid is Bruce Lee. Jason felt Kiddo kicking the other night and asked how I could sleep through all that, convinced as he was that I will be giving birth to Bam-Bam. The baby even knocked the wind out of me Friday evening with a heavy blow to my belly button. Even I'm wondering how someone so small and fragile could be doing THAT MUCH. I'm now envisioning an exceedingly large baby, a child that will either break hospital records or will be induced several weeks early because 5' 3" women were not meant to birth 12 lb. babies. (Btw, it's common to ask if the baby's "kicking," but technically, the kid's doing all sorts of things. Somersaults, moving arms, playing with the umbilical cord, just readjusting his or her position in the womb. Whatever it is, though, it's not just "kicking." I'm not giving birth to Riverdance.)

A weird side effect that I have yet to see mentioned: Yes, my belly itches, I've heard about that, but my belly button just aches sometimes. Then the baby kicks it, hits it, whatever, and it's just damned uncomfortable. I am convinced I am alone in this.

One thing I am very much looking forward to in the immediate future is my next doctor's visit, on Friday. Granted, this will be the day I get my glucose test performed. This means I will be drinking what is rumored to be the foulest little bottle of orange soda ever, syrupy and dripping with excess sugar, before getting my blood drawn. (Hopefully my blood sugar is normal - I'm not even going to get into the tests I'll go through if it's not.) But this will also be the day we get the "gender scan", the ultrasound to determine if Kiddo is a boy or a girl. I am so psyched over this, and so is Jason. We'd love to have a real name to call this child, as we already have our two names set in stone now (Gus Samuel or Veronica Hope). I'm going to go nuts buying items in either pink or blue. But even if this kid decides to be shy and hide that certain part of him or herself in the ultrasound, let's face it, at least we'll get to see him or her again. That alone is worth a smile. :-)

Despite all the above, Jason and I have reached a point, for the moment, where we're just getting a bit babied-out. The enormity of the situation is weighing upon us, combined with the fact that we don't even know the basics of changing a diaper. Jason's never even held a baby before. Things we take for granted, like just running out to eat or catching a movie, will now have to be thought out and planned with military precision. We knew all this before. We are still aware of it now. And yes, we still say it's worth it. I already love this child and want to give him or her the world. Jason is always looking for ways to connect with the child and provide for him.

Please don't get me wrong, don't think that these things were never considered or that we are regretting it now, because neither are true. We are just enjoying the last days where the Warren family consists of just two people. According to my dad, once your child is born, life is so much better that you can't even remember what you did before. I'll trust his judgment on this. :-) So for now, we're just finishing up the final stages of Phase 1 and preparing for Phase 2. I'd say that's the most accurate assessment of our mindset at this point.

And who am I trying to kid, as we scurry to pay off bills and attend comedy shows and concerts on a whim. I cannot wait to meet this kid, cannot wait to see Jason hold him, cannot wait to feed this baby for the first time, change the first diaper, hell, even wipe up the first spit-up. Because all the stuff people kvetch about leads up to the first smile. The first time that baby's eyes light up with recognitions of the world. The first time that child says "I love you, Mommy." Knowing this, I say that all the impromptu movie nights can disappear forever, and I cannot imagine noticing nor caring in the least.

ACK!

I went to bed last night knowing that our yard was covered with a thin layer of snow. I woke up this morning, looked out my window, and saw a Currier & Ives print. Yeah, the first day of the first full work week after the holidays, and I get to brush four inches of snow off my car at 8 a.m. Bleh. :-P Then it took me an hour to actually get into work, twice the time it normally took. Yeah, this day's going swell. Add that to the fact that if I look out the window, I think I'm stuck in a giant snow globe. One more inch of accumulation, my ass. My white car's gonna be camouflaged and I won't find it until spring thaw.

The one thing I am excited about is to hear what sort of plans Columbus has to celebrate the Buckeyes' national championship title. Jason and I actually watched most of the game on Friday evening. (OK, so I conked out on the sofa during the first half while Jason played Roller Coaster Tycoon 2 on the computer. But hey, we watched past halftime!) This Buckeye mania gets a bit absurd sometimes, the fans reminding you on a daily basis that the term originated as "fanatic", and we decided it was time to move away from this madness once and for all when we saw the scarlett n' grey tortilla shells at Giant Eagle last week. (No, not tortilla chips, although I'm sure they were on sale as well. Tortilla SHELLS. Like to make a burrito with. Yikes.)

Don't get me wrong. We don't hate OSU, for the most part. What we hate is the attitude that if we don't care about OSU then we're some sort of heretics. To say "it's only a football game" is highest blasphemy. I don't think I can properly convey just how insane it gets around here. But we're developing a "when in Rome" theory about the whole thing, and it really is nice when the local team wins highest honors. Plus they've been playing some really exciting football this season - edge-of-your-seat stuff, and normally I really couldn't care less about the game if I tried. So a citywide celebration would be very cool. And we won't be moving on account of tortilla shells....although if this kid I'm carrying ever expresses a deep desire to play in the 'Shoe, I think we're moving to Alaska. :-P

And the baby geek theory continues....

New Year's Day, we finally saw "Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers." Maybe it was the way I was sitting. Maybe it was the booming stereo sound. Either way, Kiddo would NOT STOP moving throughout most of the three-hour film - a record for the kid so far.

(I'm beginning to have this opposing hunch that Kiddo will turn out to be a head cheerleader/Homecoming Queen/Voted Most Popular/starting quarterback/frat boy who will read that his or her fetal self went nuts over LOTR and Star Trek, and be totally mortified. Although that would be fun too, he he he....)

Happy New Year, everybody!

We celebrated ringing in the new year with some friends at home, and I'm very happy to say that it turned out to be a great little party. At least, everyone seemed to be having a good time, the first guests arriving at 7 p.m. and the last leaving at 3:15 a.m. (Actually, Carlos left the next day, but being that he was in from Cleveland and all, that was to be expected!) Jason and I watched the ball drop with 10 other people, amist the clatter and clang of horns and noisemakers and Dick Clark on ABC. People talked, played Balderdash, Magic, Boggle and spades, and ate what we had first thought of as a considerable spread of food, only to see it decimated by 1 a.m. We've never held a successful party before, and with Kiddo on the way, it will be a long time (if ever!) before we can do so again. So looking back on that night, I get all sorts of happy. :-) (The kicker had to be when my friend Colleen looked at the fruit tray and the cracker/cheese/pate tray, both carefully arranged by me only a couple hours prior, and asked if I'd purchased them. I swear I was beaming.)

So with a new year, comes new responsibility. Oh yeah, I'm talking about the kid, but not the obvious, post-birth duties. I'm talking childbirth classes in March and April, more doctor appointments, further nursery preparation, scheduling of baby showers (OK, so that one's fun!), and the one I dread most: Searching for childcare. Apparently you're supposed to do this sooner rather than later, but I have this vision of The Baby Room in most daycare centers looking like a smelly little baby farm. Think "kennel" rather than "care." :-P Hopefully I'm woefully wrong. Private daycare would be better for an infant, in my opinion, but not knowing anyone around here makes it difficult. I can answer newspaper ads, but I still don't know these people from any other ax-murdering, child-molesting, baby-shaking, all-in-all jackass down the street, y'know? It's scary as hell, and to think that I need to possibly get my child on a WAITING LIST for somewhere terrifies me still yet. No wonder so many moms just stay at home, and if we had the financial stability for me to do so, I'm beginning to think I would.