Was that a wave?!?

Today we had our second ultra sound. A second ultra sound was needed because our first indicated that we were not measuring as far along as the computational mathematics associated with gestation suggested we should be. So, today we traveled to the swanky specialty clinic at the Uof M Fairview hospital to get a much improved super-power, lots of gadgets ultra sound to see really just how far along we actually are.
First, I should tell you about the first ultrasound. So the first ultra sound was after a few weeks and the baby looked less like a baby, and more like a little blog with a manic heartbeat. There was no form to it, just this little blob, and while we were both happy to see the little being, I must admit there wasn't much of a baby to be excited about. So we had the ultrasound, got a due date, were excited to see a heartbeat and went on with our day....
Today was our second ultra sound. This was ridiculous! We saw a baby. A real baby. It waved!! I about jumped right off that table and through those ridiculous stirrups when I saw the little tiny arm wave around, as if to say, "hey mom and dad, I'm here." "It is indeed, me, who makes you want to throw up every day, and I continue to drain you of all the energy you can muster. But I'm here, so you are thankful for it all. I'll show you with my little wave." We saw little hands, little feet, a little heart and heard a heartbeat. We actually heard the 174 beats a minute, oh-so-soothing sound of the baby's heartbeat. It was amazing. As I stared at the screen a single little tear stole away from my eye and trailed down may face. I was so happy! (but also so emotional, so its difficult to tell if I would have shed a tear without the hormone rages that have overcome me). We schedule our next amazing ultra sound for January 5th, where we find out what we are having. Its finally starting to sink in that I'm really carrying a baby. I've become more relaxed with telling people and have finally let 'the cat out of the bag' to some of the staff at work and friends from the University. As time passes it gets easier to believe we've been so blessed. I can't wait to see what is to come in the next few months, even if it does mean falling asleep at work and eating at weird hours, weird substances. Its all so worth it when your baby waves to you!

Symptoms?!? They call these Symptoms?!?

So, if you google pregnancy symptoms you'll get about 50 different things that are you going to experience and how they progress as you move along in your pregnancy...blah blah blah... Not one of these sites manages to display with adequate disgust how these so called symptoms will change your life. The headlines should say things like "Forget Food, you will devote your time to gut-rot" or "Prepare yourself for methane explosions!" or possibly, "Don't even try to get out of bed without 15 hours of sleep!". You are likely laughing at these titles, but they are the God-honest truth. Why does no one describe this?!? I expected a little mid-morning sickness. Just enough to remind me that I am pregnant and make me smile. HA! Then I quickly learned that the 'morning' part was the biggest misnomer in the UNIVERSE. If anything, mornings are when I am most likely to eat something and not feel like death afterwards. I expect to want to take a nap once in awhile, and during those naps dream of how the nursery will look or about the names we are mulling over. Instead, I usually try to sleep to get away from the nausea and hit the pillow like a rock. To top it off, I need, no, I require at a minimum, 13 hours of sleep. 13 hours! This is such a long time. About 2 pm my body goes into shut down and I wander off to a sleepy place that makes me so completely nonfunctional that the kids I work with must think that I am useless when it comes to their issues. I identify with those women who think that these 9 months are the longest of their life- and while I am sure I will cherish every day of it in hind sight, right now I just wish I could eat. Eat anything outside of cheese and bananas. Oh how I want the things I used to love to sound tasty and delicious instead of repulsive. Maybe tonight, in my 12 hours of sleep I'll try to channel all my energy on dreaming about that.

Here we are, parents to be. At home in the fantastic twin cities, with our puppy Granola. This one's on the Stone Arch Bridge, which happens to run parrallel to the (in)famous 35-W bridge, which collapsed last summer (07') and just recently re-openned.

Surreal. Surreal. Surreal.

Here we are, struggling to actually swallow (and by swallow think large, as in sailboat) that we have a baby on the way. We're so excited, but so alarmed that we actually did this! Could it be possible? Do I have a fertile-myrtle tattoo somewhere on my body that I have been oblivious to my whole life? Does my husband have super sperm? Some days I spend time laughing that we've been so blessed, and then weirded-out that we are actually expecting a baby.

We're at 8 weeks, so we really haven't told many people (except for all of you out their reading this blog of course, but the likelihood that you actually know us, that is know us in at the very least, a "hey neighbor can we borrow some sugar" kind of way is minimal- so read on stranger.), instead we've made a habit of telling those people who we'll rarely see again. This is weird, but somehow more comforting if something were to happen to this pregnancy (God forbid). Case in point, last weekend I ran the Milwaukee Lakefront marathon. About the last 5 miles I teamed with this nice man named David. I had never met David before in my life and I learned fantastic things about him while we ran. He's run a marathon on every continent and in every state. He likes to walk them 'for fun' and thinks that his 16 minute walking miles are just too slow. I counter this plethora of information with, "my husband and I recently found out we're expecting a baby." Post event, this seems ridiculous. I'll never see David again. But now he's one more person that knows and one more person who won't care what happens to our little family good or bad. So no harm, no foul, I suppose. Nevertheless, we like spreading the news. As time goes on and we share with our families our happy news I'm sure they'll catch wind of this blog, so we apologize in advance for telling someone before you that is likely much less important than you'll be to our baby's life.