Most importantly...

I realized that I forgot to add another very important piece of information to last night's post: I am now the owner of tickets to the Elton John & Billy Joel "Face2Face" concert coming to Nashville 5/16.

My mom says that being a mom means not always getting to do what you want to do, but I don't think that requesting for divine intervention in this case would be asking too much. I mean, really, I was planning to marry Billy Joel when I was about 9 -- we've had a long relationship, even if the Piano Man doesn't know it. My new plan is for the baby to wait until the concert is ending on the 16th, I can then go into labor and be swept off in an ambulance from the Sommet Center directly to the hospital -- just think how much faster that would be than waiting to get out of a parking garage in post-concert traffic!?

Sadly, there is a "Plan B" that involves selling the tickets if baby BillyJohn EltonJoel's arrival conflicts with concert going, but I hope not to need to put it into place.

The Northern Migration

Measuring over a foot in length apparently means the man needs more room to move and grow, and he's doing this by migrating up into my ribs. It's about as comfortable as it sounds. In the new pictures, I can see how his room has moved out and up. I'm more watermelon than bowling ball in shape at this point, but I'm sure that he'll continue to make himself at home as the weeks go on.

It's Grow Time: A pound and a half with more to go

Measuring right on track and weighing in at a pound and a half, today we got to see the baby again and today, at last, our little friend was willing to show his face. The imaging place was great -- they took a lot of time and gave us prints and a DVD of the images and video. Yes, video--they did the regular black & white ultrasound and taped that, then they pushed a button and the machine did what Ajay assures me are just complicated math algorithms and it produced moving 3D images.


We got to see the kid sucking his thumb, twisting and turning, and trying to eat his umbilical cord (or, so it appeared - there's not much to do in there). The prints that we got were pretty good, so I'll post those. The 3D picture is a composite of 2D images, so it's not perfect -- there's a finger or umbilical cord spot on his face that isn't really part of his cheek, for example -- but it's still MUCH better than the results of the last imaging trip. From here on out, he just needs to get bigger. All the parts and pieces are in place, so now it's grow time.

Round, and Round, and Round We Grow

I think that last week the little man had a growth spurt. I will keep telling myself that, anyway! As predicted the waist disappeared and this week I have a decidedly more, ... what's the word... apple-shaped? citrus-shaped? figure. One of my 7th grade girls came up to me at the end of class yesterday, stuck out her hand and patted my belly while saying. "Ms. Watters, now we see your belly!" Uum, great? I think that I smiled and agreed, but I was a little surprised.

I'm all about giving my kids a hug when they need it or dumping a lesson on reading strategies if there's something happening in the school that needs to be talked about, but I was not ready for the patting of the belly. Surprise! It's apparently that time of year.

So, while we wait to see the little giant next week via ultrasound, this week I think about how and why generations and generations of women--from time immemorial--have decided it would be a good idea to have a kids... with no way of realizing or planning for the changes before you're the one actually doing the baby baking or having. [So, this is the part where everyone who has kids is rolling on the floor laughing since this part is NOTHING compared to what comes later, but...] I knew that I couldn't understand how it would be, but I just went ahead and dove on in. Why would generally sane people do this?

Sure, this might be liberating, creative or generative for some women, but it's a total takeover of the body and mind (so say I today--this could be all wrong according to me tomorrow). Especially now, it's not like I'm having babies to carry on a royal family name or to work a farm that needs labor, we're not living in a place that needs to be more populated, ... it's not something that has to happen, but so women choose this anyway. Choose it even though mind and body are taken over by hormones and the chemistry and physics that turn those into a baby. Even though it completely changes life as you've known it. Maybe we are all really insane?

In Production

So, as the students were coming back to school today, another teacher passed me in the hall and said, "So, I hear you're in production, congratulations!"

Like farmland?

I'd never heard that before, but I suppose it might be about the most accurate description of my current state. This is sort of like farming -- high inputs, a yield that won't be determined for some time to come -- so, "in production" I am.

22 down, 18 (... or so... ) to go!

With the start of 2009, I've become a year older (again) and we've started the downhill half of this pregnancy. Still no news to report on the name front -- we are considering a multitude of options, and have started compiling the possibilities in three lists: A List, B List, and Rejected. Among the rejected are several of my greatest ideas, but... I suppose that naming this child Harrison Ford Chawan might not be the best long term plan.

Since I'm finally starting to look slightly more "pregnant" than "lazy," I think that I can safely add some pictures of the transformation to the blog -- apologies to anyone thinking that this is simply not in good taste. Believe me, if I wasn't transfixed by the transformation of my own body in the way that some people are by reality TV or the overused "train wreck" I wouldn't bother. Since I'm in awe and because it's my blog, there will be some pictures . I won't post them each week, but figure that eventually there will be some, um..., more obvious gains made, and having a comparison point can't hurt. What remains of my waist is disappearing daily and I expect it to be gone within the week, replaced by a much more round than flat middle.

So, I'll go back to school tomorrow and I'm sure that any middle schoolers who didn't hear the rumor confirmed before vacation will be seeing more of a change as they return this week. I'm now officially in all maternity pants -- sizing up simply had to come to an end -- and the shirts are next on the list. If anyone's quick to notice change and question its origins, it's the 10-14 year old crowd. Nothing gets by them for long.