It starts...

The shopping has begun. I knew online shopping wasn't going to be nearly as fun, so I knew that a trip was in order. Thankfully, I live in Atlanta, where everything is available. However, I live in the suburbs of Atlanta, so not everything is open very late.

Kyle and I both had to work late yesterday, so we weren't both home until after 8 p.m. The BabyGap next to my house closed at...you guessed it...8 p.m. The Babies R Us, however, was open until 9 p.m. It was 8:40 by the time we got there, but that 20 minutes was all the time I needed to buy my girl a few comfy things. I thought I would go straight to the frilly outfits, but I was drawn to the colorful, soft things with cute prints. I'm a sucker for hearts and polka dots. Plus, I needed more than 20 minutes to fully evaluate the frills they had. Those may be best left to full Saturdays at the mall. We got mostly 0-3 months, but the outfit with the grey jacket is 9-12 months, and the cargo parts are 12 months. I was wearing cargo pants almost identical to these, so when I saw them, she had to have them.

I try to keep this blog cheese-free, but I have to tell you that shopping for her was unreal. She has always been a real person to me, but she became even more real in those 20 minutes. I'm bursting at the seams with love and excitement. Okay. That is all. 

It's a...

GIRL!!! Holy cow. Never thought it would happen. Those old wives don't know jack. Every single predictor they use said that Gretel was actually a boy. But it took the ultrasound this morning to show anything definitive. And homegirl is...well...a girl. To say that I'm excited would be an understatement. I will chill with the pink font now, because it's hurting my eyes. 

Yesterday was the longest day of my life. I was so relieved when it was finally time to go to bed, but do you remember how you felt when you were 6 years old and it was Christmas Eve? Yeah. Take that, and multiply it by 10. That's how I felt. And restless leg syndrome is no lie. I should know. It struck me at at 3:30 a.m., and that was all she wrote. I laid there for a while, and finally gave up at 5 a.m. Between the need to have every joint in my body popped and the nervous anxiety that was throwing a party in my stomach, it was an extra long morning. I didn't get that instant gratification you get on Christmas morning when there is 0.5 seconds between waking up and opening presents. Noooo. This girl had to wait another 5 hours. It was important for me to eat this morning because they were drawing vials of blood for the second part of my sequential screening, but it just wasn't happening. I couldn't eat anything. I drank OJ because my friend MW said she heard that it makes the baby move around and cooperate. Not sure why, but I did it anyway. Anything that might help, right? 

Once I finally got in the ultrasound room, the most important thing was to make sure Gretel was healthy and growing properly. So the technician took lots of images before we finally got around to gender. Gretel is, by the way, healthy and growing quickly. She weighs a hefty 10 oz, which actually puts me a week ahead of schedule. That's the most important thing, of course. I actually have to go back in four weeks for another ultrasound because homegirl was moving around so much that they couldn't take enough good pictures of her heart, which is only about the size of a quarter. 

Finally, the technician stuck the wand on the side of my stomach, and it showed Gretel from underneath, pretty much like she was sitting on the wand. God help me - if she ever finds out about this blog or comes across it one day, I hope she forgives me for posting this picture. But I have to. You can see her tiny bottom, legs and her girliness. 

My girl was not ready to wake up and didn't want to be bothered. It didn't take long, though, for all the poking to wake her up, and then she wouldn't stay still. She kept her hands around her face and later sucked her thumb. 

Today begins the shopping extravaganza. My mom has already been on a diaper run. Kyle and I are going shopping tonight (He knows it and isn't trying to get out of it. How awesome is that?!). And Kyle's family is in town this weekend, so I'm sure that his mom, Allie and I will go browsing. 

And before I turn you loose, I have to tell you what the amazing girls I work with did for me. Without my knowing, they sent an office email to everyone, asking them for their boy/girl predictions. Then, they were texting Kyle last night and this morning to make sure the timing was right for my arrival this morning so they could surprise me. When I got to work, they had showered my desk with pink and blue stars, the whiteboard was decorated with the boy/girl predictions and designs, and everyone was wearing pink and blue to coincide with their predictions. I was so surprised and touched that everyone put so much effort into today. I love my girls. They are the best. And I love that my girl will know them:)

The Good, The Bad, The Ugly

I have both good things to share and a bone to pick. I will start with the good things. Gretel/Seven is definitely moving around in there. I can't feel anything when I put my hand on my belly, but I can feel him/her flipping around a little. It feels like a lot of flutters right in the middle, and it's almost like she tickles my side at times. It's unreal..surreal, actually. I keep trying to figure out if there is anything that will make her move around more, but it seems like she just moves when she feels like it. Hopefully there will be more of it and I can figure out a pattern...you know, like when she wants me to quit singing or she doesn't like the way I'm laying. We shall see:)

We find out on Wednesday if it is indeed a she, or if my habits need to change. My appointment is at 7:45 a.m. It was the first one they had. I think it's probably a he, despite the pronouns that I use, but I have to wait about 36 more hours to know for sure.

Now, on to my bone. Why, WHY do people think that a round belly is an invitation to grope you? Don't get me wrong. I'm totally fine with people touching me when they either warn me or even ask. As long as I know you're going to be touching me, I'm all for it. But don't think that just because I'm pregnant that you can cop a feel whenever you want. What would you do if I just started rubbing all up on you? In the last 72 hours, I've had three people (one of which I had never met and whose name I still don't know) rub my stomach. One of them actually grabbed it with two hands and shook it.  I'm sorry...can I help you? Skittles aren't going to fall out of there and they set the big, blue genie free, so you can stop touching me now.

And here's another one for you...why do men think they know more about being pregnant than I do? Because their wives had babies? Sorry...not the same thing. I actually had one man, upon seeing that I was drinking water, say to me, "Good girl." WHAT? I've also been asked if I know how much protein I'm supposed to have; how much protein am I getting; how am I getting that protein; what kind of exercise have you been doing; you can't have too many Cokes; etc. Again, don't get me wrong. I'm incredibly grateful to have people care about me and the kiddo. But not all of these people actually know me, and I feel like I'm being tested. The ones I do know, I don't mind so much. They only ask because they either care or are interested, even though I still feel like I'm taking the "Are You a Good Mother?" quiz. The worst part is that I will actually lie to them. If I know I haven't eaten enough protein that day, I lie. How pathetic is that?  Whatever. When you grow a human being in your non-uterus and then push a kid out of your willy, then we'll talk.

Holy cow...I think it moved

Not kidding. I never write posts during the day because I'm at work, but this called for a 10-minute break from being brilliant. I think it moved.

Hi, by the way. I've gone back to sucking at being a blogger. It's been more than a week since I posted. I blame the conference in Houston that I had to go to. No time to do the things I needed to do, nevermind the things I wanted to do. But I'm back. And a very special occasion has spurned me to write again. That occasion being...

I think it moved.

It's really somewhat frustrating to not know for sure. My doctor told me that it would feel like flutters or bubbles in my stomach, and I definitely just felt some bubble-ish movement in there. I've been bouncing her, trying to get her to do it again, but I suppose she doesn't feel like it. Of course, I could be completely wrong, and the bubble-ish movements were, in fact, bubbles. I've also been singing to her, trying to prompt some movement. Of course, this is all in private, because I really, really can't sing. I figured she would at least kick me in an effort to make me stop. But alas, that hasn't worked yet.

On another note, we find out in a week from tomorrow if she is indeed a she, or if it is a he. Longest. countdown. ever.

What is this witchcraft?!

No, posting two days in a row is not my attempt to not suck at blogging. It's mostly a coincidence. I posted yesterday because I started to feel bad about myself. I'm posting now because I went to the doctor today, and I don't have anything else to do:) Plus, I thought of some funny things that I didn't want to forget.

Doctor appointment today was easy breezy. She just listened to the heartbeat and answered my questions (will the Kings of Leon concert on Friday hurt kiddo's ears; why does my head hurt ALL THE TIME; when is it supposed to move; are you sure my kid won't be deaf after Friday night?). The heart rate was 160 bpm. Average is 120-160 for this time period. An old wives tale about gender prediction is that a heart rate of 140 bpm or higher indicates a girl and lower than 140 bpm indicates a boy. I've kind of been banking on this one since it seems more science-based, but my nurse assured me that there is no truth to it. While it seems more legit, I certainly haven't limited myself to just this one tale.

I'm a desperately impatient person and I hate waiting, especially for surprises. I don't find out pink or blue until Sept. 29, which, to a normal, sane person, is just a short three weeks away. It's not. It's freakin forever. It was even longer than freaking forever two weeks ago when they made my appointment. At that point, it was a six-week wait. So I was left to my own devices to try to figure out what kiddo is. Enter the witchcraft. Well, not really witchcraft. I didn't mix any potions or chant spells or even break out the Magic 8 Ball. I googled old wives tales until I was blue in the face. I've taken a million online quizzes that are supposed to predict gender - I've received an equal amount of girl/boy results. There are a lot of things that the so-called old wives say can predict your baby's gender - your complexion, the changes in your body, how you're carrying your weight, your baby's heart rate, foods that you crave...they seem legit enough, right? Then we get into the more ridiculous ones - how fast the hair is growing on your legs (ick), how cold your feet are, did you conceive on a full moon, etc. Really? Then, there's the needle/ring test. Enter more witchcraft.

The tale goes that you suspend a needle or your wedding ring from a string or a strand of your hair (what?) over your stomach. You have to hold the needle or ring still, and then it will either swing in a circle or back and forth like a pendulum. Seems silly, but I figured I would try it. So I made Kyle suspend my ring, and later a needle, over my stomach. At first, nothing happened. But then, both times, it started swinging back and forth like crazy. It was freaky. I told the girls at work, so they wanted to try it. After we thought everyone had left for the evening, we shut the door to my office and I laid down in the floor. They took turns. One time, it went in a circle. Every time after that, a pendulum it was. I don't think they believed how crazy it was until they did it. I don't know why it's supposed to predict gender, but dude, it's pretty crazy. Craziness further ensued when there was a knock on my door. It was my senior VP, who wanted to know what kind of witchcraft we were performing. Luckily, he has a sense of humor and a gaggle of grandkids, so he understood.

So now, I've got the ring/needle test telling me boy and the heart rate telling me girl. So who knows? All I know is that the next three weeks can not go by fast enough.