Week 39: The Final Countdown

I thought I was making a really cute face in this picture, but turns out that every single one of the belly shots Gracie took for me today have me looking tired and in pain. Which is accurate. But it's always nice to think you don't look the way you feel. :/

Also, love Juliette's side-eye at the belly. Poor kid gets bumped in the head on by it at least a few times a week.

Snapshot

I realized I haven't really done a lot of "snapshot" posts during this pregnancy, even though it is one of my favorite things. I love seeing how the little things change in our day to day life. So here's what baby-Betsy and I are up to in this, our final week of pregnancy(!!!!):

Eating (Breakfast):
Cereal. The not healthy kind. Like Honeycomb or Marshmallow Mateys.

Eating (Lunch):
Toasted naan with cheese + applesauce

Eating (Dinner):
Chicken Cesar salad wraps
Quesadillas + fruit salad
French toast

Pass-times
Solitaire/Tetris on my iPad on the couch
Listening to the kids play
Coloring when I can sit up for a bit :)

Music
Mostly Pandora stations (Cat Stevens, Shake it Off, Jason Mraz)

Watching
Poldark, season 1 (with Steve)
Jimmy Fallon clips on YouTube (when I'm home at night without hubs and feeling sad/lonely)

Reading
Styled by Emily Hendersen
Along the Infinite Sea by Beatriz Williams
Scriptures nightly with the kiddos

Routine

6:30am - Wake up, still pregnant. Get kids up. Pack lunches while they eat breakfast.

7:15am - Pile everyone in the car for the drive to school.

7:30am - Get home with Juliette. Eat my own breakfast.

8:00am - Try to get something useful done, like maybe doing the dishes or starting some laundry.

8:30am - Crash on the couch with Juliette watching Peg + Cat. Rest/nap/snuggle. She's a great cuddle buddy.

10:30am - Try to do something else useful. Like move the laundry into the dryer or work on the budget.

11:30am - Lunch with Jules.

12:30pm - Quiet time for Juliette. Nap for me.

2:15pm - Leave to get big kids from school.

2:50pm - Home. Snacks. Homework. Then the kids go off to clean their rooms & bathroom. I collapse on the couch again.

5:30pm - Dinner. Collapse on couch.

6:50pm - Scriptures, prayers, hugs + kisses (everybody gives the Betsy-bump a hug, too), vitamins and then the kids go off to bed.

7:00pm - Shower. Jammies. Watch Poldark with Steve, or if he's gone play a bunch of games of Tetris and Solitaire until I'm tired enough to eat a snack and read a book and fall asleep around 10 or 11.

All night - Have weird dreams (like my eyeball falling out, or delivering my baby and then carrying her in a paper bag so she won't get wet in a rainstorm?!). Wake up to pee every 2 or so hours. Grit my teeth in agony every time I roll over.

Repeat. :)

What People are Saying

Strange woman in OB office waiting room: Are you having TWINS?

Me: Nope! Just one!

Woman: That is a BIG baby.

Maintenance guys came by yesterday to fix our alarm system:

Guy #1: She's having her baby on Friday!

Guy #2: Yeah?

Guy #1: Looks like she should have had it two MONTHS ago!

#truth

Also, this is what I look like to my children:

Dr. Appt

I saw my doctor today. Baby "sounds great." Measurements are okay. Urine was sampled. And I have made almost zero progress toward labor since last week.

But we did talk details of the induction (HOORAY!) and I felt inspired to take a picture of this poster I stare at every week.

I still don't understand where all my organs have gone.

Life

I'm in pain. A lot of pain. Because my hips apparently are super relaxed, which makes all the pressure and weight being thrust upon them very, very painful. Not to get all pathetic on you, but I find myself gripping furniture just to stand up, gritting my teeth before climbing in the car, and wanting to cry when I roll over in bed. I shuffle when I walk, and move very, very slowly. And honestly that doesn't make much of a difference, I'm just hoping not to exacerbate anything worse.

It sucks, yeah, but its just how life is right now. I'm finding more and more that simply being resigned to life as-is on a day-by-day basis helps me have the best days. I'm not expecting to go into labor and being disappointed. I'm not wishing away pain that can't heal with this sweet giant girl locked in place. I'm just here, now, going slow and giving myself a LOT of grace. (That said, these last few days before Friday's induction are DRAGGING! Haha.)

I'm mostly in good spirits, but some things, like this dumb motivational sign I have to see while I wait to pick up the kids, really tick me off:

Because, hi: I LIVE on my couch.

And speaking of couches, there are a few positions I can settle into where I don't hurt. One of them is on the couch with two pillows behind me, one between my knees, and one wedged under my belly to hold it at the right angle. That's my belly in black, happily nestled on it's pillow wedge after I bailed on the second and third hours of church this week.

We're being realistic. We order pizza every Friday. We eat off/out of paper plates and bowls that we ordered in MASSIVE BULK. We're loving Shipt delivering our groceries. Totally worth the price. If I feel crummy when I'm home solo with the kids, I just tell them so and ask them to go play upstairs. They are so patient and understanding.

Every night Charlie prays and says "Thank you for our baby" and "Thank you that when the baby is born Mommy won't be pregnant anymore." Which is hilarious but also genius. I think we will all be grateful for that.

Steve gave me a priesthood blessing of comfort when I asked him to the other night. It was such a relief to hear the words my Heavenly Father had to share with me--even though they weren't perhaps the ones I would have chosen. (Maybe I was wishing I'd be blessed to have the baby THAT NIGHT... Maybe....) What I heard instead was mostly just to endure, and when I hold this sweet girl in my arms when the time comes, to enjoy the knowledge that I've done my part and done the good hard work that Heavenly Father has asked of me. And also to have faith in the atonement, and it's power to lift me in all situations, including this one. I'm still learning this: that Christ's sacrifice doesn't apply just to repentance from sin, but also to all pain, all suffering, all doubt and fear and insecurity. So I'm trying to pray more, ask more, accept more.

3 days to go. Tired, achy, excited, exhausted, and grateful. :)

Weeks 37 & 38: Just Keep Swimming

This photo (37 weeks!) was taken in what will be our new master bedroom in a matter of weeks! As usual, we snuck in for a self-guided tour that Sunday, and while the kids played a really loud game involving running in and out of a closet, Steve snapped this belly pic for me.

Here's the house, too!

As you might have guessed from the photos, the house and I are now roughly the same size.

This week the kids started school at their new elementary. Gracie is in third grade and Charlie has just begun kindergarten. Thankfully their days have been repeatedly, "great" and "perfect" respectively.

Grace also had her birthday on Wednesday. I was feeling so crummy that I honestly thought I might give birth (these two girls shared the same due date, so it would have been kind of awesome for them to share a birthday!) but obviously that did not happen. Instead we had Panera, Steve took the older two to a trampoline park, there was a gift-opening bonanza, and we finale-d with a Cold Stone cookie dough ice cream cake. :)

Dr. Appt

My most recent doctor's appointment was quick and to the point. Quick urine sample, heartbeat check (130's), mashing my stomach to find baby's position, and then checking my progress toward labor (4cm dilated, 60% effaced).

Also, I found this SUPER CLOSE parking just for me! YES!

And Dr. Olvera gave me the basic details of induction day--we're to arrive at the hospital at 4:30am (WHAT?!), I'll get started on the induction medications (and I can "get [my] epidural WHENEVER I WANT") and she expects to be on hand to break my water by 7am. So we'll see how that goes.

Keep Swimming

We're in "just keep swimming" mode.

A few days this week we've been convinced we'd be holding this girl by the following day, but NOPE. I feel terrible. Baby has dropped (yay!) which means (a) I look a little more hilarious because she looks more like a giant beer-belly than a pregnancy bump, and (b) I am dying of pain in my pelvis. Sorry to say pelvis. I'm also very nauseated again, which is not my favorite. And tired. And lots of other unpleasantries are going on, which are supposed to mean labor is coming but so far have not produced actual labor. *facepalm*

My stomach is so big that it's getting hard to drive the car! Ha! Tip-toes for gas & breaks, and I am constantly adjusting the seat so baby-girl doesn't have to snuggle the steering wheel.

This is my favorite dress. :)

Juliette is a doll face and lets me take a nap in the morning while she watches PBS snuggled up against me. She snuggles me pretty much wherever I go.

I don't wear makeup, I DO get dressed, and I am mostly laying down.

And we've started ordering groceries through Shipt. They shop for and then bring the food TO YOUR HOUSE, and I can't tell you how much I appreciate NOT having to waddle painfully through the store dragging all my feelings (and Juliette's, too) along with the grocery cart. AND that when Steve is home, he can hang out with me instead of grocery shopping. It is a marvelous invention, and I am thankful for technology this pregnancy!

I've started making myself daily to-do lists again. They are super basic, and include things like "Wash Juliette" or "Do the dishes." Wunderlist makes a little happy "ding" each time I check something off that makes it almost worth it to do the work. ;)

Steve's been working every day. I've been getting up with the kids (in the dark--boo) to get them ready and off to school. We are both disheartened and exhausted down to our bones, as is typical in these last few weeks of pregnancy. We've been putting the kids to bed and then climbing right into our own bed by around 8. This year has been full of stress and new beginnings and change, and we're just sort of sucked dry. So bedtime at 8 is great.

I'm resigned, but I would love your prayers if you are a prayer. Steve needs them, too. We're okay, we're making it, but that extra bolstering up of love and help would be a real gift from heaven in this last week of waiting. Thanks for being there for us. :)

xo,
Jamie

Week 36: Minimalist Nesting and a Dr. Appt

36 weeks: 58 inches tall, 46 inches around. I won't make it to legit sphere, but I might be able to get to the 48" max circumference I reached with Charlie. Only time and my measuring tape will tell.

Minimalist Nesting

Apartment living has made nesting pretty basic. After we did out buying bonanza because all our baby stuff ended up stashed in the back of a storage unit (which we can't access until the end of September), things sat around in boxes for a while. Then on Saturday we woke up to a cozy, rainy day and Steve said, "Want to put together all the baby stuff?" :)

I'm a teeny tiny bit sad that I haven't been able to make a nursery for this sweet girl yet, but at the same time it has been a huge relief to just focus on what we really need/find useful as we've prepared for her arrival. And it was still super fun to get everyone in on assembly and setup. The kids were really excited.

They started by unboxing the pack'n'play on my side of the bed in our room.

Charlie took his job as mobile-assembler very seriously and did a good job. He's dexterous and loves building things. :)

Then they all helped put together the stroller and checked out the car seat.

...at which point Juliette turned to me and sternly demanded," Mom, get your Betsy out. GET YOUR BETSY OUT!!!" and I wished I could follow her instructions.

We pulled out the Boppy, and Squish showed us (with no prompting) exactly how she would hold her baby sister when she was born. She looked like she could really see the baby, and it made Steve and me melt into absolute puddles.

And then her beloved Pluto got a turn, too.

When Steve had assembled the baby swing (our final assembly-required piece) everyone descended upon the baby items with their stuffed animals to make trial runs.

So now we know that miniature elephants, dogs, and foxes can all thrive in our baby's environment, which seems like a good indicator that the newborn weeks should be okay. ;)

Dr. Appointment

I've now officially graduated to weekly visits and *ahem* paper gowns, which means we are totally in the final countdown! I vacillate between being overjoyed that the days are ticking down, and trying to ignore that the days are ticking down but not yet over. So far ignoring seems to be working better for me from a mental health standpoint. ;)

Here are some flowers outside the doctors office for you to look at.

I've been having Braxton Hicks contractions for ages now--some quite painful, most happening in the evening--but that's just kind of how my body rolls during pregnancy. So I was very surprised (and happy!) to discover that I'm already dilated to a 3! While I'm still hoping not to deliver until induction day (for the sake of figuring out logistics with three kiddos and Steve's job!) it is nice to know that discomfort isn't for nothing. Plus, less work to do on delivery day, right?

Baby girl is head down, heartbeat in the 140s, and at next week's appointment, we get induction details! That really makes it seem soon. Just a few more details (emergency early-baby-arrival babysitter, packing my hospital bag) to go, and we'll be about as ready as we can be.

Symptoms and Such

So... pregnancy is not pretty. It's just not. I'm just going to say that I am uncomfortable, nauseated, and dealing with other (familiar) pre-labor symptoms that the baby girls in my life have given me in the past. And in addition to that, my poor burdened pelvis is killin' me. Charlie-pregnancy-level sharp and dull pain. I will not miss this stage. But at least this time around, I know I can get through it.

Aside from the not-pretty stuff, though, a lot of my symptoms are pretty funny:

• Fat fingers and cankles are a thing now. Actually, my swollen fingers started in NC, where I upgraded to a bigger (fake) wedding ring. When we arrived in Texas (read: even hotter) they got EVEN FATTER, and I had to get an even bigger, even faker ring! Cankles this time come and go. If I have a day with a lot of rest/keeping my feet up, I have some ankle definition. If not: tree trunk legs.
  .
• Sleep fighting... Okay, not legit Ron Swanson sleep fighting. But my sleep is definitely weird now that I wake up so often in the night and can't sleep as hard as usual. I snore. I hear things in my dreams (not real things) that jolt me awake. I talk in my sleep (mumbo jumbo non-words) and sometimes accidentally wake myself up talking. And this morning Steve said I was taking swings at something with my arms. Totally unconscious. From what I remember of that dream, it was because I was mad at him for buying himself a ticket to a Jason Mraz concert without inviting me.
  .
• Loose joints. For the last few weeks, things just sort of slip out of my hands. Soap. Silverware. Whatever. Like my muscles just give up for a second because they're tired of doing all the things that muscles have to do. It's both annoying and funny. Mostly funny.
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• Eating all the ice. I stand in front of the freezer multiple times a day eating ice pellets straight from the bag of Sonic ice we keep in there just for me. It is literally the equivalent to me right now of eating a warm brownie straight from the pan. I cannot explain it, but since it's actually good for me to be doing stuff to stay hydrated, I'm grateful for it. Also, it is serious euphoria. So strange. But so wonderful. I also enjoy my Sonic ice in a glass, sometimes with apple juice or water, or sometimes just eaten with a spoon. Yep. Like a crazy person. But it makes me so happy.

And one thing that hasn't happened--this might be the strangest of all--I'm not crying. I mean, occasionally I'll get a little teary over something cute on TV, or have a good bawl over my helplessness as a nearly-spherical human who can't get out of bed without ratcheting up three or four times to reach sitting position. But I'd say all my cries thus far have been not only rational, but also reasonable.

So... that's weird.

But I am still basically having-a-good-attitude-about-feeling-miserable. So Steve requested I make a really sad face at him for one of my belly pictures. :)

This guy keeps my head on straight. ;) He's got the best sense of humor, gives good hugs, and is very good for pregnant-woman morale.

And let's wrap up this week with some of the things people have said about my belly this week. There has been some belly touching, but these Southern ladies are so cute about it that I mostly don't even mind.

Things People Have Said this Week:

Lady at church: "Is this your first?"

Me: "No, our fourth." :)

Her: "Oh! Well this isn't your first rodeo!"

Lady in elevator after OB visit: "That baby's gonna be bigger than you are! Bless your heart!"

#texas!

Week 29: Critical Mass

I'm going to admit right off that I never, ever took a physics class, so it is possible that I am using the term "critical mass" incorrectly. But I'm going to go ahead and take some liberties with it because the words "critical" and "mass" are pretty much describing what's going on around my middle. On Friday, after months of being pleasantly surprised that I was having little to no back pain--suddenly: CRITICAL MASS. Big baby. Small mama. Third trimester. It's happening: back pain and difficulty standing for long periods of time.

Also, a couple times I almost tipped over! : O

All this makes sense, because my Babycenter app assures me that this little bun is 17 inches long (!!!) and about 3lbs (!!!). And since she is a Walton baby, she may be a little bigger than that by now. She is not a crazy one so far--she has calm times of day where I just feel her shifting and fidgeting, and busy times when she is kicking and punching and doing somersaults. She's usually the most active in the evening, which is funny because when Steve and I lay down for bed she usually punches him in the back for a bit.

My brain/soul are doing a little better. Steve reminded me gently that feeling overwhelmed and low are par for the course during my third trimesters. We've done it before, we can do it again. But it is definitely hard to face the possibility of months more feeling panicky/anxious/depressed at this level.

Neil Gaiman is quoted as saying, "I like stories about women who save themselves." I love that as an idea. I love the concept that anyone can save themselves. But the older I grow, the more chances I have to recognize that sometimes the only way to "save yourself" is to not try to do it alone, to not do it yourself. To ask for help. It's been a big lesson for me this pregnancy. There's nothing wrong with it. In fact, asking for and accepting help is one of the best ways to form deeper and more meaningful relationships. It's laying yourself bare. It's allowing others to prove their strength to themselves by letting them share their gifts and talents. It's showing humility and gratitude and humanity that makes other people feel better when they reach their own low points.

When I get myself up and going again, when I'm writing more and working more and mothering better and my hormones and brain chemicals are less whacked out and I've just got things a lot more together--when that happens and you hit a low point where you feel like there is just nothing left to keep you going, you remember that I felt this right now. At this happy, exciting time of moving, growing up a little more, expecting a beautiful baby, my heart has felt worn and broken and I have felt lonely and lost, anxious about my future, grappling with a sometimes almost physically paralyzing anxiety. You remember that, okay? Because after that part, it gets better again. I know its going to get better again. (And I even got a little reminder in my instagram feed last week.)

And while I don't feel great, I feel a little less overwhelmed. I asked for help, and tried to use my resources:

I asked my doctor if we could increase my dosage of Lexapro, and she and my OB agreed that yes, that would be a good idea. We will see if that helps, but its good to have a couple of lifeboat options, and that seemed like a logical place to start based on my history.

I scheduled a couple last appointments with my wonderful counselor, who totally gets me. Last week we talked about how my traumatic experiences during Charlie's birth (stuck baby, nurse pushing on my belly when I was told to STOP PUSHING, lots of lost blood, low APGAR, baby taken away for observation) was shaping my imaginings of what this birth could be like. They were pretty violent and distressing. She helped me work on reframing, and that has been helping.

I bravely called an OB office in Texas and scheduled an appointment with a new doctor. (And had a panic attack while I did it, but whatever. Done is done, even if you have a panic attack.)

I emailed a therapist friend from church and asked about coping techniques for panic attacks.

I tried to get to the gym as often as possible--a break from the kids (and for the kids--they love playing there), endorphins (yay!), and cardio and strength training to prepare myself a little more to keep carrying this heavy little lovely.

And Friday we just had a perfect family day. We took the kids to the pool after quiet time. The water was perfect and Steve launched the big kids into the air over and over. Juliette finally got confident enough to try some swimming in her floatie without holding someone's hand and kicked all around the pool. And in the last few minutes of swimming the sky opened up and a summer storm came down on us. We waited a few minutes under an umbrella and then decided we already wet, wearing flipflops, and perfectly dressed for a walk in the rain. So we walked home and splashed in a million puddles and laughed so hard and were entirely soaked and happy when we got back to the apartment.

And that night Steve and I cleaned ourselves up and got all fancy, left the kids with a babysitter (thanks Mandy!) and joined a huge gathering of his colleagues for residency graduation.

I remember being pregnant with Juliette at the very beginning of residency, and how awed we were that she (still gestating!) would be the same age as Charlie was then (2.5) by the time Steve graduated. It seemed so far away but it went by SO quickly.

Baby girl, when you read this know that you were there (in bump form anyway) for the culmination of your Daddy's long and challenging and wonderful medical education. He did an AWESOME job, little one. You would be so proud. And he is so, so excited to meet you. We keep talking about how cozy you will be, and how sweet it will be to touch your soft little baby-fuzzed head. I'm hanging in for you, for those moments when we get to cuddle up together in just a few months. We're in this together, okay? And you've got a whole team of siblings eagerly awaiting your arrival. (Charlie especially gives you multiple hugs everyday.) Keep on keeping on, and I will, too.   xo

~

p.s. I had my final doctor visit in week 29 and forgot to add it. It was a quick one: tummy measured, urine sampled, quick chat with a doctor, and the distribution of my medical record print-outs so I'd have something to take with me to San Antonio. Stats were as follows:

Stats (as of doctor appt):
Weeks pregnant: 29 weeks, 4 days
Baby's fruit/food size: Eggplant / Butternut Squash
Net weight gain: 26 lbs
Doctor visits: 7
Cups peed in: 7
Blood draws: 5
Ultrasounds: 6

22 Weeks: A Dr. Visit and The Summer of Moving

It's kind of crazy how quickly things change, isn't it? Even planned things, things you've known about for months like a move or taking a final or something--its like for months you're planning and then suddenly its this blur of happening.

This time last week we were in our little house on Shillington with a few boxes packed. Today I'm sitting in my beloved blue armchair in the cozy master of our temporary apartment, exhausted and still only halfway (I hope?) through unpacking.

Rest and 10 minute breaks have been my good friends.

We have moved every single time I have been pregnant (1 week before Gracie was born, during the 1st trimester of Charlie, and in the 2nd trimester with Juliette), but this is the first time we will tackle 3 moves in just about as many months. We're here in the apartment in Winston while Steve finishes up PGY3 (final year of residency) and the older kiddos finish 2nd grade/preschool. The first week of July we'll make the trek to San Antonio, and live in another apartment there while the house we've commissioned (HOORAY!) is built. And then in the weeks just before or just after baby girl's arrival (depending on when she comes and how fast Texan builders build) we'll be moving for the third time, into our new Texas home.

All this is why I've unofficially dubbed these next few months as "The Summer of Moving."

Anyway, it definitely wore us all out--even the toddler.

But we're happy to be getting settled in our little apartment (which has a POOL!), AND that the next time we move, the military is going to come right over here and pack all our stuff up. #winning

Two Fridays ago, just before Mother's Day, we hit the 22 week mark with this cute and wiggly little lady. She is reportedly the size of a "small spaghetti squash," and according to the ultrasound we had on Monday of this week, she weighs 1 pound, 3 oz. That's no small baby to fit in a tiny-house mama, which is probably why I've suddenly started noticing that my belly runs in to everything now--the bathroom counter, the washing machine, and poor Juliette's noggin. (I've almost knocked her over a few times now.)

Perhaps the very best part of Monday's visit, though, was discovering that after four months, the SCH is gone! No more hemorrhage! Seeing the relief and joy on Steve's face when I told him almost hurt my heart. It's got to be hard to be weighed down the the burden of knowledge--his job means he knows all the "what ifs" that go along with anything remotely scary in pregnancy. But he's so good at hiding it that I didn't know he was still so worried.

There aren't words, really, to express how glad I am that this thing has healed up and our baby has a safer home in my belly now.

The first few months of this year were so hard. The illness, the bleeding, the constant worry, the uncertainty of where our path was taking us. I'm not sure of all the whys yet--what the greater point of that dark time for my soul was--but I am seeing now the beauty Heavenly Father is unfolding for us. There are still miles to go--literal and figurative--before we reach a point of more rest and a little more ease, but I am so thankful for the sunshine that is beginning to refill my heart. I certainly appreciate it more now than I did before.

That said... the refiner's fire still isn't my favorite. ;)

xo,

Jamie

p.s.

Stats (as of doctor appt):
Weeks pregnant: 22 weeks, 3 days
Baby's fruit/food size: Small spaghetti squash
Net weight gain: 16 lbs
Doctor visits: 5
Cups peed in: 6
Blood draws: 4
Ultrasounds: 6

The Fourth Doctor Visit, Or: IT'S A GIIIIIIIIIRL!!!

Well I was wrong. Again.

I think I have consistently been wrong now about the gender every single one of our kids!

But we are so, so, SO excited to welcome a third little girl into our home!

Steve's parents were in town for a whole week last week, and luck shone down on us because I'd made our gender scan appointment for the last day they were in town. That meant they got to find out at the same time as our kiddos, and that was really fun!

The two older kids had both guessed we were having a boy, and while Charlie dearly loves his sisters, we were a little concerned that he might feel let down not to be getting a brother. Steve came up with the brilliant idea of upping the ante from "just" cupcakes to a balloons-in-a-box announcement for the kids, so on the way home from our scan we picked up some Dewey's cupcakes with pink sprinkles and a bouquet of pink balloons to stuff in a moving box. The kiddos were excited and nervous to open it!



*PHEW!*

Totally good reception from everyone, including Charlie (who exclaimed, "It's beautiful!" as the balloons came out of the box), and everyone was thrilled to carry balloons around for the next hour, too. :)

And eat celebratory cupcakes...

The doctor visit itself was super fun for Steve and I. We spent the first ten minutes with the sonographer, looking over our baby's cute profile, watching it move, and seeing healthy beautiful kidneys and heart chambers and all kinds of miraculous things that have been growing while I've been nauseous and napping. It really is totally jaw-dropping to see how a perfect little person can form without me doing much more than resting up and taking a multi-vitamin.

When it came time to find out if it was a boy or a girl, however, baby had other ideas. She stayed firmly tucked in a ball even when we poked and prodded her, and wouldn't move to let the ultrasound tech find out her gender. We actually had to leave, have a quick (scheduled) visit with my doctor (peed in a cup and asked a couple questions), and then come back to try again.

The second time was a charm, and the babes cooperated so we didn't have to wait another 4 weeks to find out! After being split on our guesses (I said boy, Steve said girl) we were still both pretty surprised this little bun was a girl!

At home with Steve's mom and dad we pored over her ultrasound pictures and popped in the DVD so Mimi (that's Steve's mama's chosen grandma name) could watch a replay of the ultrasound.

Here are a few of my favorite pictures. :) First, her profile with her little head tucked to her chest.

Then there's her little foot (right above the word "FOOT"). Seriously. Baby feet are the cutest.

And another profile shot with a clear view of her adorable nose. :)

Also--the final moment that I knew Charlie was cool with being surrounded by sisters came yesterday. I told Juliette the baby in my tummy was a baby sister.

Charlie responded, "I like baby sisters. They're more cuter." <3

...

Stats (as of doctor appt):
Weeks pregnant: 18 weeks, 3 days
Baby's fruit/food size: Soda can (9 ounces, 6.5 inches)
Net weight gain: 6 lbs
Doctor visits: 3
Cups peed in: 4
Blood draws: 3
Ultrasounds: 5

The Third Doctor Visit.

Tuesday morning was our (baby's and my) third doctor visit. It started off with a nice long wait in the waiting room. Thirty minutes. Normally I wouldn't have minded, but I had purposefully not peed before I left the house assuming that they would want me to pee in their cup instead. Which they did, but not until much, much later! Anyway, suffice it to say I was keenly aware of the delay to my appointment.

We started off with an ultrasound, where the sonographer checked on the SCH they've been watching since all the scariness of week nine. My bleeding stopped in the middle of last week (thank goodness), and the ultrasound revealed that (yay!) my hemorrhage was getting smaller. We also got to take a peek at baby, who was very cozy and measured four days ahead of schedule. Already striving to keep up with the Walton standard. :)

Baby, please be less than 10 pounds.

The sonographer also grabbed a quick snapshot of the babe, who was in full glamour shot position with his/her fist under her chin:

After the ultrasound I had a quick doctor visit as well. They took my blood pressure (which the nurse told me was "practically non-existent") and then finally let me pee in the cup. I don't think I've ever been so enthusiastic about that. Then I met with Dr. Pollard for a quick talk about the ultrasound and to ask questions. (I'm not having Braxton Hicks, my cervix is closed, that weird belly pain is "ligament pain" as my uterus moves from my pelvis to my abdomen. #TMI)

And then I was out the door and bound for home, where everybody (hubs and sibs) passed around our new baby picture. :)

Stats (as of doctor appt):
Weeks pregnant: 14 weeks, 4 days
Baby's fruit size: Lemon
Net weight gain: 3lbs
Doctor visits: 3
Cups peed in: 3
Blood draws: 2
Ultrasounds: 5