Our baby at 35 weeks

At 35 weeks, the baby weighs about as much as a honeydew melon (approximately 5 1/4 pounds) and is now over 18 inches long.

Fuzzy robe and slippers...check. Toiletries...check. Nursing bra...check. Hospital forms...check. Baby's bag...check.

For the last few weeks, I have been working on getting my hospital bag packed. You wouldn't think it would take that long, but I've been paying too much attention to all these checklists I receive (online, from friends and from our baby classes). Every time I think I'm ready to get it all contained, there are at least two more things I feel like I need to add. Yes, I'm anal (probably a bad choice of words as you'll understand from the paragraphs that follow), but I feel like getting this task done and getting it done "properly" will help ease some anxiety I've been having lately about not being prepared enough.

One thing that comes up all too often on these checklists is something I've been putting off buying. It's a product that brings me back to a commercial that was on all the time when I was younger. A lit match and a medicated pad...medicated pad smothers lit match...extinguished match...relief. I didn't necessarily know what the pad was for at that time which explains why when Leah and I tried to mimic this commercial with our Noxema facial cleansing pads (drenched in alcohol) and a match, a small fire started. Please do not try it for yourself. The pads may have looked the same, but obviously they weren't made of the same materials. What the commercial was actually for was Tucks medicated pads, and with all I've learned about pregnancy now, I am all too familiar with what they are for. Hemorrhoids. I hate to even write it!

I finally broke down at Target yesterday and bought a box for my hospital bag. It wasn't like I was a man buying a three pack of women's thongs in a triple XL or something but still, I felt so awkward. It's silly I know, but I pulled out every trick to save myself any shame. I purposely bought them on a day I did a major shopping at the store. I made sure to have plenty of items in my cart so I could hide them at the back of it in case I ran into anyone I knew. I picked the lane with the nice checkout lady that could possibly put it together that the only reason I was getting these things was because I was pregnant. I set the box on the belt and stacked a few things on top, all while trying not to be too obvious that I was completely bashful about buying them. And seriously, couldn't they make a smaller sized box than a pack of 100?

I don't even have hemorrhoids (I hope you're reading this, nice checkout lady)! But, like a good student of pregnancy knows, I've succumbed to the fact that I may become a victim during my delivery (since fortunately it has not happened up until this point). I'm sorry for bringing up the topic, but sadly it is a fact of several pregnant women's lives. (When I started this blog, didn't I apologize for giving too much information? Yes, I did.) I am really hoping buying these pads in advance though will mean I'm one of the lucky ones and they'll go to waste. However, what I have heard that they are also useful for is the cooling feeling they bring (how can I say this...) on the front end during the days after giving birth. So if that's why the package gets opened, I'm OK with that.


Hey, anything to relieve discomfort, which brings me to another subject for anyone wondering. If I am in pain and there is something that can help me feel better, I am not opposed. This means that I will get an epidural if I need it and will not feel the need to be a champion for any "I am woman, hear me roar" causes. I salute all you stronger women out there who are 100% certain about going the natural route, but if I am roaring, give me the drugs. We'll see what happens!

Our baby at 34 weeks

At 34 weeks, the baby weighs about as much as a cantaloupe (approximately 4 3/4 pounds).

Since I am quickly approaching my due date, I've decided to post these size/weight updates once a week now instead of once every three.

Why do you do this to me, Potbelly?

I'm not talking about my stomach either. When I put my mind to something, I can't take it off of that something...when it comes to food. So, when I'm standing in line to pick up a healthy lunch (as was the case yesterday) and my mind wanders off to Potbelly (Sandwich Works) ooey, gooey, chewy oatmeal chocolate chip cookie la la land, there's no stopping me. I get out of the line I'm in to head straight for my car and drive to deliciousness. That happens a lot lately when it comes to sweets, especially over lunch. I'll think to myself that this is going to be the day I don't need to have some kind of a treat and then my head won't let the thought go until there's sugar involved.

I get to Potbelly with my mouth watering, order my usual veggie on wheat, no mushrooms or Swiss. "So basically a cheese sandwich," 22-year-old sandwich guy says. Then he starts telling me how he just loves it when people come in and order some healthy type of sandwich, and then during the next sandwich making step they pile on everything they can get their hands on, add chips, cookies, shakes, what have you. Chuckle, chuckle from me as I skip the mayo out of guilt during the next step, grab my cookie and go.


The lure of the cookie has been mesmerizing. I was really trying to have some willpower though. I tried. I failed. Because this scenario has become somewhat routine, I knew that yesterday (just a couple hours after my last cookie) when we walked in for my 34 week doctor appointment, there was no chance of that scale reading the same thing as the last time (as it did at my previous appointment). "Was there a jump?" I asked. "Yes, there was." I had to ask exactly what since it's like they don't want to alarm you, so they try to be so sneaky about it. "Four pounds." Fine. Even though my belly is feeling gigantic at this point, I'm somehow still measuring exactly "right on" with where I should be. We heard our baby's heartbeat beating away again and tried to figure out his or her position inside of me. Even with all the body parts practically popping out of me at times, it still remains foggy as to which part is where. We also talked about what to expect these latter stages of pregnancy. The big day is getting to be so close! All looks good and my next appointment is in two weeks.

The girl next door

Back in November, Jeff and I started thinking more about childcare and realized we needed to get on the ball with exploring our options. It’s difficult to think about only being with our baby for such a short time (six weeks) before giving up my stay at home mommy status while on maternity leave. But, off to investigating childcare for us it was since the day we’d need one of those options would come before we knew it. We found out rates through a friend for an in-home daycare in a neighboring city at the start of our search and had gotten a follow-up email sent out to them to figure out how the whole process was supposed to work. Do we discuss details over the phone? Do we come to visit first, or is visiting a waste of time for both parties before discussing details over the phone? But what if everything sounds great on the phone and we find out the commute ends up being too long? Worse, what if we just don’t like what we see when we come, then wouldn’t the time on the phone be a waste? Obviously we had more than a few questions.

Later that week, we stopped by our neighbors’ house and the daycare subject casually came up. That conversation was a pretty short one since the only thing we had accomplished at that point was sending an email out to one place. The next night, our doorbell rang and our neighbor, Mary, who we had just been with that night before was at our door. (At times I dislike using the neighbor title because it almost negates the fact that we consider some of our neighbors a few of our greatest friends first and foremost.) We chatted briefly and then she told me she wanted to talk to me about something. Did it irk her when I egged Matt (her husband) on by continuing to talk politics knowing that he gets fired up on the subject? Was she sick and tired of the bundlebreeder over-serving himself on their wine? She proceeded with saying she didn’t want me to feel uncomfortable or obligated and I could definitely say no without any hard feelings. Hmmm. I wondered if the confused dog feeling I had on the inside showed on the outside.


I was taken aback not knowing what to expect and then she says, “I would like to offer childcare for your baby.” Gasp! I could go on and on about how the conversation progressed because I remember it vividly, but I know I should give the short version (which clearly I’m terrible at!). My shock quickly turned into tears of joy and gratitude and I think I hugged her at least ten times as we finished talking. I can't leave out one of the cutest parts: she told me she could supply me with references if I wanted. As if her fabulous kids, Katie and Patrick, didn't speak volumes as to what kind of a job she'd do with our own child! Wait a second...Matt and Mary did say they moved to MN because of Matt's job, didn't they? Goodness, what exactly did they mean when they called it a "job transfer"? Ha! Totally kidding.

Jeff wasn’t home, so the whole time I’m just dying, wishing he was hearing this discussion first hand. I mean, how unbelievably lucky could we be to have this proposition on the table? Did I even have to ask Jeff or could I just scream that we accepted? Knowing my husband and our mutual feelings about Mary, I probably didn't need to ask him, but Mary and I left the conversation as Jeff and I would talk about everything (my gosh, thank you so much...hug) and we’d nail down some details (does your family think you are crazy?...hug) and get back to her soon (are you sure you really want to do this?...hug). Then I gave her the tenth hug, told her again how I just couldn’t believe this and how thankful I was for her offer and we parted ways.

Our probe into childcare options came to a screeching halt that day and we are very happy to announce that Mary will be taking care of our baby when the time comes for me to go back to work! We’ll do a six month review to see how everything is working out, but knowing we'll have someone who we adore there with our baby at the most difficult time to be without him or her, in the very beginning, is a blessing. Did I mention she is our next door neighbor? Just when you all thought the arrangement couldn't get any better. Grandma Tricia will also help in the summer for a couple days a week which is so wonderful too. She had offered to help with more days, but we basically told her she could not completely give up her favorite pastime of golfing during the week while on her much deserved break from teaching. Reluctantly, she agreed. :) The bundle is definitely spoiled already.

Ever since we figured out all the details with Mary and made the decision final, Jeff and I have constantly been talking about how fortunate we are to have her doing this incredible thing for us. We'll never take for granted the generous offer or the piece of mind we've been given. Even though going back to work will undoubtedly be tough at first, the transition will be so much smoother knowing our baby is in such good hands while we're away.

Our baby at 33 weeks

At 33 weeks, the baby weighs about as much a pineapple (approximately just over four pounds).

Sweet ride

Jeff and I were completely struck by the kindness of everyone after my first baby shower (I'll post photos from each shower once they are all done). The day after (Sunday, January 11th), we had a blast looking through everything together and my hubby was hard at work on assembly. It was so sweet as I watched our baby's daddy get the stroller system in tact as each step required some audible play by play.

"OK, baby, here we are getting your stroller ready!"


"Let's go, baby. I'm pushing you in your stoller."


"All right, baby, we're cruising along with your car seat in your stroller now."



"Here we go! Off to the races, baby!"...