Pee Cup, World Cup and a 14-Pound Baby

Who's having a 14-pound baby?! Well, apparently I am. We went in for our ultrasound last week, and my NP's (that's an abbrev for Nurse Practitioner...and yes, I just abbreviated the word abbreviate) suspicions were confirmed - I am actually further along with little Pele Parr than originally thought. How much further along is still a mystery, as I will not get a new due date until we have our next appointment on July 6, but according to the ultrasound I am a solid four weeks ahead of where we thought. So if that projection stands at the doctors appointment it will mean that tomorrow I will not reach the 30 week mark, but actually week 34...WOWSERS!! So now that I've ruined the build-up by outing the juicy detail of this blog post, let's have the story about the ultrasound itself...which is still pretty entertaining, even given the outed climax.

Prior to the ultrasound I was given a sheet of explicit instructions which outlined exactly what I was to do to prepare...which was basically drink a ton of water and then not pee for 2 hours before even arriving at the doctors office. I am a rule-follower when it comes to these sorts of matters, and a relentless detail freak when it comes to any sorts of matters, so I followed the instructions to the T. And have never in my life been in such urinary distress. Walking was difficult, as was sitting, and let's not even get into how much it hurt to laugh (Michelle and Tomas were present for the festivities, so not laughing was an impossible expectation.) Factor in a baby bouncing on my bladder like a trampoline, and you get a clear picture of what I was dealing with. No, I did not end up peeing my pants, but I definitely did lay down on the floor to relieve the pressure on my bladder, and when the sonographer came to get us she told me to just go. So I did. No, not on the floor, in the bathroom. And almost begrudgingly...all of that for nothing?! We found out later that having a full bladder for the ultrasound is good for the sonographer because the more liquid that's in there the more they can see. Apparently I still had plenty in there because she could see everything just fine.

Which brings us to the ultrasound itself, and as much as it makes me laugh that every single parent talks about their child as though they are the smartest, most advanced, sevant-likely kid in the universe, I have to say...we have a perfect little baby cookin in there! :) Baby's brain and spine are perfectly formed, all organs are in their place and thriving, there's fluid where it's supposed to be, and no fluid where it's not supposed to be...Hmm, what else? No gestational diabetes, no cleft lip, appendages, bones and joints are all looking good and there are no markers for spina bifida, anencephaly or down syndrome. The baby has already turned so it will come out head first, and is also already facing the right way, so we're looking good and highly optimistic to welcome a healthy, thriving little one! Of course nothing is ever 100% until D-Day (that's what I call baby's birthday...get it, "D" is short for "Delivery"? I rule) but, like I said, we are optimistic.

To get to the issue of the baby measuring big the sonographer basically told me that if my original due date of September 2 is correct, then I'll be giving birth to a 14-pound child. Pass. Not sure how that 14-pound child would plan on getting out of my belly. I'll be happy to sire an anomaly, but let's have it do something cool like be born singing instead of crying...not just be huge. It's pretty crazy to think that we may have just fast-forwarded this whole song and dance four weeks! That would mean that everything throughtout my pregnancy has actually happened four weeks later than we thought...I was 2 months prego at Christmas, I felt the baby kick for the first time at 20 weeks - not 16, I didn't start showing until 25 weeks - not 21 like we thought...this is insane! But there is certainly an upside, if D-Day is four weeks earlier than originally thought we should have a babe in arms at least a week before Tommy heads to Roc for Dan and Allison's wedding - and that will be a huge relief! No pressure on the trip, no worrying about whether or not the huge pregnant girl is going into labor, everyone will be able to enjoy themselves, and maybe even strategically set up a webcam so I can say hi at some point during the weekend. Maybe that can even be my wedding present...not being pregnant during the nuptials :)

Oh! Speaking of nuptials, Tommy and I will celebrate our 1-year anniversary on Saturday! Fortunately for us we will never, ever forget when our anniversary is, as it is the day after Michael Jackson passed away. As tragic and terrible and blah blah blah as that is, I gotta be honest, it's a pretty reliable marker. We're planning a pretty low-key day...well, as low-key as watching USA play in the World Cup with Thomas Alfred Parr can be, that is. Which brings us to World Cup Soccer. Today the US defeated Algeria to move on to the elimination round of 16 in the World Cup, and I have never before in my life seen a man literally experience hysterics before today. It was a simply fantastic game, that even now, 16 hours later, inspires comments of "I still can't believe that game" in various forms from my husband as he sits in his Pop-Pop chair and plays FIFA on 360. I'm not exaggerating when I say he was laughing and crying at the same time for a good 10 minutes after Donovan scored the win goal in today's game. Landon Donovan is pretty good, I guess, but I choose to credit the win to the USA windsock, red, white and blue paper lanterns, and American flag banners hanging in our living room. True patriots over here. True.

And on that note, I shall retire from this unusually long blog entry and attempt to put together our baby stroller. My wonderfully creative madre is throwing a "virtual baby shower" for us on Saturday (which will be another part of our low-key anniversary day) over Skype. We've been receiving gifts for the last several weeks off of our registry from the fam and Saturday we'll show them all off to everyone over Skype as they gather at my parents house for a party in our honor. Just because we aren't there doesn't mean they can't get together to celebrate, right? Right! So in the meantime we have plenty of little projects to keep busy with in the evening to prepare for said shower. And with that, I bid you adieu. Go American Sports!

A couple of pics for the road, from Ultrasound Day...

It's hard to smile, I have to pee!


Taking pictures of my torture


Trying to relieve the pressure...Mich made sure the caution sign was in place so no one stepped on me. We were the only people in the room, but still.

The Scare

So, I've gotten some questions/inquiries regarding the "scare" I referred to in my last blog that took us to Labor and Delivery a few weeks ago. Not to dimish the necessity for "being careful" or the potential terribleness that can take place during pregnancy, but it really wasn't a big deal. So let's have the story...

I was at work preparing for a game, Tom was at the ballpark too, and I "spotted" a bit, as they call it, which was immediately followed by further abonormal...stuff...and I can't go into more detail than that because bodily fluids skeeze me out. "But Christa, you live with Tom Parr, King of Gross Things and Bodily Excretions," yes, yes I do. And because of this I am near my daily quota for talk of things that exit ones body - in whatever form they come, be it liquid, solid or gas, and hereby give my word that no further graphic detail regarding "the scare" will be given.

Back to the story...Kaiser (our insurance provider) has a 24-hour advice line, so after about 2 minutes of internal detate I figured I should call if there was any question in my mind at all. After answering their battery of questions the head Nurse Practitioner in L&D (that's code for Labor and Delivery) said she wanted to see me, and it would be best if I came right in. "But don't panic," she told me.

Alrighty, then.

So, not panicking, I told my boss (one hour before a game, gates were open and people were arriving at the ballpark) that I needed to go and I was taking the P.A. Announcer with me. I went to the press box and, not panicking, I told Tommy we needed to go, arrangements were made in about 20 seconds for us to do so seamlessly, and we headed to the hospital. Upon arrival I was forced to ride in a wheelchair (the whole time hearing my brother in my head saying, "What are you?...Handicapped?" because I didn't think I needed the chair), we check in to L&D where they promptly collected my information for billing purposes (capitalism at its finest), and then we headed into the exam room after I changed into a stylish tie-front mumu and hospital-provided cozy socks with rubber treads on the bottom. I'm quite proud to say Tommy and I remained calm and collected throughout the whole ordeal. I was hooked up to a baby heart monitor, which registered the babies heart rate and allowed us to hear the sweet sweet sound of the heartbeat loud and clear. The NP felt my belly ("Oh, it's still soft, that's good.") And asked if I was having contractions. "They'll feel like menstrual cramps," she told me. "I've never had a menstrual cramp," I replied. She just looked at me, to which I said, "I have no idea what I'm in for, huh." She just smiled and shook her head.

The doctor eventually found us (we were about to take bets on whether or not he got lost)and after a short, but make no mistake, thorough, exam he pronounced everything to be perfectly fine. "Wierd stuff happens sometimes," he told us. The main concern would have been that there were ruptured membranes, which is fancy doctor-speak for saying my water had broken. But it didn't - all membranes were intact and everything was as it should be. So, I begrudgingly (sense the sarcasm) changed out of my mumu and tire socks, we breathed a collective sigh of relief, and went home.

So that's the story for all who wanted to hear - and for those who didn't, well, you just got to know me a little better on the "I'm-not-sure-I-can-look-you-in-the-eye-the-next-time-I-see-you" level. We have had no issues since, everything has been fabulous - not even anything I would consider calling the advice line about. I took the day off after "the scare" and have been careful to rest plenty ever since. Okay. Tommy still tells me to slow down and refuses to let me do work sometimes, but I'm getting better at restraining myself. That's all for now, more to come. Stockton rules.

Pendulum? Anybody?

Ah! The blog has been out of commish for a few weeks, my apologies! No excuse, really – just your usual busy at work, occupied at home, sleepy a lot, kinda stuff. Much has happened in the last few weeks, plenty to blog about…where do we begin?! How about I spend this week playing catch-up and blogging about the happenings of the past few weeks, and today we talk about yesterday’s doctor appointment and have some fun, okay? Okay!

Well, we had a doctor’s appointment yesterday and it went flawlessly! My labs were perfect – we are gestational diabetes free, and there was no protein or iron surplus where it shouldn’t be. Also, no suspicion of birth defects, disease or other sort of deficiency based on my blood work and tests, so we are sitting pretty right now! Which brings us to how the baby is sitting, and he’s apparently a bit of a low rider. Not in a bad way, I’m just carrying low and all in front. I took pictures the other day and I still have a “case of the disappearing baby” when you look at me from the side (huge belly), then look at me from the front (she can’t be prego, I still see a waist!). Apparently I’m measuring very big for 27 weeks, as well, which is an issue that will be explored in detail when we go in for our ultrasound next week. Which brings us to the ultrasound issues…grrr. I was supposed to have one at 21-23 weeks but was unable to schedule it due to the supreme incompetence of the radiology department at Kaiser Permanente. Doc was highly displeased yesterday upon hearing I had not yet gotten the ultrasound, threw her weight around a little bit with radiology and POOF! we have an appointment way sooner than the 6 weeks they were trying to make me wait. And this 6 week wait would have started now, and was after they were not smart enough to find the three orders placed for me by two doctors to have the ultrasound. Get your sh*t together radiology, you’re not impressing anyone.

So I guess that’s about it for the doctor’s appointment update. It was short, sweet, and to the point. I had only gained five pounds in the last 6 weeks (doctors orders, she told me to slow down haha), bringing our total weight gain to 19 pounds – and it’s seriously all in my belly. Since I am measuring big the doctor wants to see me again in four weeks instead of six so she can investigate the ultrasound findings and measurements and determine for sure if I have the correct due date. I tend to think I’ve been “diagnosed” with the correct due date, and am just carrying a big, healthy baby! We are still pretty determined not to find out the sex of the baby when we go in for the ultrasound, but I did happen upon a delightful little article in one of the 15 online baby newsletters sent to my email everyday that went through like 20 different Old Wives Tales that are supposed to tell whether you’re having a boy or girl. Here’s what they had to say, and there really are like 20…

Old Wives Tale Test #1
If you prefer sleeping on your right side, it’s a girl. If you prefer the left, you’re having a boy.
Implication: Girl. I’m a right-side sleeper until my hip hurts bad enough to wake me up, at which time I roll over.

Old Wives Tale Test #2
Extreme nausea means you are having a girl.
Implication: Boy. I never had one instance of extreme nausea, or any nausea, for that matter. I bested you this time, morning sickness!

Old Wives Tale Test #3
If your hands are dry during pregnancy, expect a boy. If they are soft, you’re having a girl.
Implication: Girl. I’ve always had soft, callous-free hands, no matter how many weights I’ve lifted or manual labor tasks I’ve completed. I put very little faith in the accuracy of this one.

Old Wives Tale #4
If you’re craving citrus while pregnant, you’re having a girl.
Implication: Girl. Haha, this made me laugh because citrus has been the only consistent craving I’ve had! There have been fleeting cravings for cornbread, candy, cereal and pancakes, but CITRUS has been my mistress (mister? What do you even call that if you’re a lady?) since day one! First it was an insatiable craving for oranges, orange juice, orange popsicles, orange tictacs – basically if it was made of oranges or tasted like oranges I wanted it all the time. Now it’s Sprite. Mmmm, I love that citrus flavor. Tommy doesn’t even ask me what I want when he goes to the store. Just comes back with Sprite So if this Old Wives Tale holds any water, it’s a girl.


Old Wives Tale #5
If altering hormones make your skin break out, expect a girl.
Implication: Boy. My skin looks better than it has in like 3 years. Living in Florida with the humidity and grossness took a huge toll and last year was probably the worst my skin has ever been in all of my 28 years. Apparently my blemish cure is pregnancy. Oof.

Old Wives Tale #6
If you feel as if you’re gliding through the day, it’s a girl. Feel like you’re stumbling around and clumsy? It’s a boy.
Implication: Girl. I’m still wearing my 4 inch heels at every possible opportunity, and am still my coordinated, easy breezy self. I will now thank my mother for instilling an urgency to have excellent posture at all times, as my posture has likely aided immensely in the balance issues I’m sure my body is currently facing with 20 pounds stacked onto the front.

Old Wives Tale #7
If your face gets fuller it means you’re having a girl.
Implication: Boy. And it’s weird because when I gain weight it always happens in my face first, and the arms are always close behind. Neither face nor arms has suffered any extra padding so far.

Old Wives Tale #8
Craving salt during pregnancy means a boy is on the way. Needing a little something sweet means it’s a girl.
Implication: Girl. I don’t think I’ve craved one salty thing.

Old Wives Tale #9
If you’re experiencing pregnant mood swings, expect a girl to arrive soon.
Implication: Boy. No real impressive outbursts to speak of. Maybe don’t ask Tom about his one, haha.

Old Wives Tale #10
If you’re carrying the baby low it’s a boy. If your bump is high, it’s a girl.
Implication: Boy. As previously discussed, I’m carrying really low. If this Old Wives Tale holds any water, it’s definitely a boy.

Old Wives Tale #11
If you’re carrying baby in front, it’s a boy. If the baby weight is spaced all around your middle, it’s a girl.
Implication: Boy. Once again, baby is just all sorts of out in front. I can’t put my make up on or do my hair in the bathroom without knocking 14 things off the sink with my belly.

Old Wives Tale #12
Swing a pendulum around your middle. If it swings back and forth it’s a boy, if it circles it’s a girl.
Implication: Too lazy to find out. This sounds like a lot of work. And who even owns a pendulum.

Old Wives Tale #13
If someone asks to see your hands and you display them palm up, it’s a girl. If you show them palms down, it’s a boy.
Implication: ?. Mmmmkay, what? This one gets the Really face. Who would ask to see my hands? That’s like something you ask a three-year-old when you know they’ve taken something and it’s in their hand, but they insist they didn’t take it. Pass.

Old Wives Tale #14
If a toddler boy shows interest in your belly, you’re having a girl. If he ignores you, it’s a boy.
Implication: Girl. I’ve been working in the merch store during our games now (air conditioned and I can sit down, yessss) and there have actually been two little toddler boys in the store who have shown interest in my belly. Yeesh, scram boys. She’s not even out of the womb yet!

Old Wives Tale #15
Eat garlic. If the scent seeps out of your pores it’s a boy. If you keep smelling sweet, it’s a girl.
Implication: Girl. I always smell sweet.

Old Wives Tale #16
If you pick up a key by the round end your baby is a girl. If you pick it up by the long end expect a boy.
Implication: No idea. This is on the same level as the “show me your hands” mistake they made on this list. What if you pick up the key in the middle? The Old Wives might need to be referred to as Old Bags from now on.

Old Wives Tale #17
If your age and year of conception are both even or odd, it’s a girl. If one is odd and the other is even you’re having a boy.
Implication: Boy. I’m 28 and the year of conception was 2009. Interesting.

Old Wives Tale #18
If your baby’s heart beats more than 150 times per minute, it’s a girl. Less than 150 you’ll have a boy.
Implication: Inconclusive. When we were in Labor and Delivery during my little scare a couple weeks ago the babies average heartbeat was literally 150. It was as high as 162 and as low as 136, but was consistently between 147 and 153. Not even joking.

Old Wives Tale #19
A child tends to be the same sex as the parent who was less stressed at the time of conception.
Implication: Could go either way. Our stress levels are usually about the same, I think. And who remembers how stressed they were last November?

Old Wives Tale #20
If you dream about having a girl while pregnant you will end up with a boy, and vice versa.
Implication: Girl. My dreams about babies are few and far between, but the ones I remember have included having a boy. And in one dream he was born fully dressed like Mr. Peanut – monocle, cane, top hat and all. I think I forgot to tell Tomas about that one. It was pretty funny. Wonder what that means…

Final Score
Old Wives Votes for Boy: 7
Old Wives Votes for Girl: 8
Seriously? Haha, the Old Wives are pretty split. Somebody find me a pendulum, stat.

The Case of the Disappearing Baby...


Wait! Where'd it go?