A pointless post about our trip to the movies

Friday night, Adam and I headed out to see a movie.  We went to the new theater here in St. Louis Park which has reserved seating.  You pick your seats when you buy your tickets and then if you order food (could just be a pretzel or actual meal) they take your seat number and deliver it to you when it's ready.

I'm not a big fan of the reserved seating idea but it is kind of nice to be able to nab the seats you prefer and still hit the concession stand and bathroom.

After doing all of these things, we head to our seats and there are two people sitting in them.  This is awkward.  I've now walked past numerous people forcing them to move their legs and whatnot to let me by.  I'm annoyed by someone being seated there but I guess I'd be willing to sit somewhere else if A) I hadn't already made people move and B) I would know I wasn't going to go sit in a seat that someone had already reserved and therefore starting a crazy domino of seat moving.  So I mention to these people that we have these seats.  So they move down one seat.  But actually, we have BOTH seats so we'd need you to move down another one.  And then there are jokes about how it doesn't matter.  So I start to feel like an ass.  Because I agree, it doesn't really.  Except that the theater has forced it to matter!

The couple in our seats has food coming so they need to be in the right seats.  So she pulls out her ticket and sure enough, she's supposed to be a few rows down.  But they don't like those so they go somewhere else.  This is all fine but I was annoyed that their disregard for how the theater worked was impacting me.

People bug me.

36 weeks

Most people look at me like I'm nuts when I tell them how many weeks pregnant I am.  Even my Mom doesn't get it and there are signs that she's been pregnant before.  So, just to level-set here (in the words of my boss), let me say that there are 40 weeks in a pregnancy.  At 37 weeks, a baby is full-term and a healthy baby will be born anywhere between 37 and 42 weeks.

I'm 36 weeks people.  4 weeks until my due date.  1 week until Lucy is full-term.

Last night Adam and I went to a Halloween party.  We went as the particularly klassy pair of a priest and pregnant nun.  It was a hit.  One woman...who by the way never introduced herself...got SO excited when she found out I was pregnant that she proceeded to molest my belly and tell me all the advice she could muster about child birth and the first few years of childhood.

Today my boys are out enjoying a Dad and Dante date and I'm curled up on the couch with the puppies watching Mr. Magorium's Wonder Emporium.  Eventually I'll motivate on my list but until then, I'm enjoying the relaxed bliss of a quiet Sunday afternoon with my fur-boys.

Things are going to change in the not-too-distant future and I'm excited!  There's a little person missing from from this little family and we're just waiting for her to get here.  My hope is that Adam and I can enjoy all of the changes and at the same time, not become douchetastic full-time parents.

Here's hopin'!

(Seriously, how random was this blog?!)

I'm impatient

I want to meet my baby girl.  She's almost done baking and I'm totally over work and the like.  Tis time.

I felt the need to share this with you.

Lucy's story, part 1

Dear Lucy,

Your story begins long before your birthday. In fact, it begins back in December of 2008 when your Dad and I decided we were ready for you. It took you awhile but on March 15, 2009 we got the word you were on your way.

From the moment we learned of your impending arrival, your Dad and I spent hours planning and preparing. We started to talk about what to name you and how to teach you. We talked about how your brother, Dante, would love you and take care of you. And we wondered about what your relationship would be with our four-legged family members, Zeus and Tuck.

We began to tell others that you were coming. We told Nana and Poppa Petrie, Nana and Papa Luopa, and your aunts and uncles. Everyone was so excited!

In the early weeks of my pregnancy, I wavered between feeling great and feeling nauseous. We played things by ear and did what we could, when we could do it. Not many people knew yet so it was a little weird trying to keep things a secret. Every week brought us closer to meeting you but your Dad and I aren’t very patient. We were so excited to meet you! Your Dad gobbled up books and information relative to what you’d be like in your first year. Every day he would regale me with interesting facts of things we had to look forward to. And boy were we looking forward to it!

On April 9^th we had our first appointment and ultrasound and we got to see you on TV! You were just a little blob then but you had an amazingly small beating heart at an impressive 143 bpm. You were about the size of a blueberry! Your Dad and I were holding hands and wiping our eyes as we stared at the screen.

You continued to grow while I continued to live in a bit of fear. The first trimester is a scary one and so many babies don’t make it. I suddenly knew what it was to be a Mom because I worried about you. I couldn’t feel you yet so I had to trust that you were ok in there.

At 12 weeks, we were able to see you again. We were having another ultrasound…this time to peek at you, take some measurements, and see if there were any issues for which we needed to be prepared. You looked like a baby! You kept falling asleep so the ultrasound tech kept telling me to cough in hopes of waking you up so you would change positions. It worked once or twice but all you would do was slide down and kick the wall and then slide back down again. We had to wait while you took your cat nap and your Dad and I had no complaints as we watched you sleep. You were given a clean bill of health and we continued to count our blessings!

It was at this point that we spilled the beans to everyone we knew. Emails flew as we told aunts, uncles, and cousins and we received lots of well wishes via Facebook. I can’t help but wonder if when you read this, you’ll have any idea what Facebook is. I told my boss and my coworkers and everyone was so excited!

18 weeks in and we had our anatomy scan. This was an ultrasound we were particularly excited for! We were going to find out if you were a little boy or a little girl. Everyone was anxious to hear except for your Poppa Petrie. He wanted it to be a secret until you were born. We tried but he found out less than 24 hours later. Oops! Blame Nana. Again you received a clean bill of health and you demonstrated that you had absolutely no modesty! The ultrasound tech was able to identify your gender just minutes into the ultrasound! After the appointment your Dad and I went shopping to buy a few pink items. Of course, now there are WAY more pink things waiting for your arrival.

We thought this was our last glimpse of you until you made your appearance which made us both very sad. We could look at you for hours. But it was right around this time when I started to feel movements…itty bitty twinges. I enjoyed those a TON! It was our own special language.

In July we loaded up the car and headed down to Des Moines for a Petrie Family reunion. During that weekend, a surprise shower was thrown in your honor! All of your cousins (second or third, I have no idea) gave you books and all of your great aunts and uncles and your adult cousins (second or third, I have no idea) gave you a gift card. You’ll come home from the hospital in the car seat they bought you. They were all so excited for us and for you and we were so lucky to have that special time.

Sometime in August your Dad and I were laying in bed and chatting about whatever came to mind (as this is something we do quite frequently) and your Dad’s hand was on my stomach. I’ll never in all of my life forget the look on his face when you kicked his hand, every so lightly. He looked up at me with eyes as big as saucers and a grin a mile wide and asked me if that was you. And we sat there smiling and giggling, and tearing up for what felt like ages as we tried to prod you to do it again (you didn’t). Since then you have graced us both with many a kick, jab, and full body roll. In fact, you’re giving me a beating right now as I type.

At 24 weeks we got one last look because the doctor wanted a better picture of your face. And we happily obliged.

And then, on one beautiful Saturday morning in August, your Aunt Kari called me and we found out that you were going to have a cousin! Just 5 months apart!

On September 24^th, you gave us a scare. I hadn’t felt you move in awhile so I had some caffeine, ate some dinner, and laid down. Nothing. Your Dad came in and tried talking to you and giving you Reiki. Still nothing. So your Dad called Labor and Delivery and those nurses told us to come in immediately and they would take a look at things. I was sobbing as I got ready to go. I was so worried about you! I hate(d) not having you where I could see you and know you were ok. Your Dad drove to the hospital like a bat out of hell and you still didn’t move. You know how this story ends. The nurse called you a brat and I grounded you the minute you came out. The minute they put that monitor on my belly we heard the most beautiful sound in the world; your heartbeat. You scurried around in there trying to get away from it but by then your Dad was breathing again and I was smiling. All was well with our little girl.

All in one week, we had 2 showers in your honor. First there was a shower at my work where my coworkers spoiled you rotten. Lots of clothes, gift cards, and fun stuff just for you. Later in the week, your Aunt Kari and Uncle Eli through a shower with our families where they showered you with gifts. We enjoyed so much getting to celebrate your impending arrival with your grandparents, aunts and uncles, and other family.

We are now counting the days until your arrival. I am wrapping up projects at work and packing our hospital bags. This weekend we’ll continue to spend our time readying the house for you. In these final weeks, my belly is growing exponentially, I’m getting less and less sleep, and my pelvis feels like it’s snapping in half. I can’t wait to meet you!

There’s more of your story to come and I can’t wait to be a part of it. To be continued.

Love,
Mommy

About that whole miserable thing...

The closer we get to meeting Lucy, the more and more often I'm asked "How are you feeling?" What's interesting about this is that in the beginning, people would ask this question with a hint of excitement about this little person I'm growing. Now in my third trimester, people ask this with pity and a smirk. They not only expect me to be miserable but some of them even seem to want me to be. Last weekend in fact, my aunt called me her "grumpy niece" because I'm 8 months pregnant. Not because of my disposition.

But here's the thing peeps. I love being pregnant.

It's not all moonlight and roses (and Adam will be the first to remind me that I do, in fact, complain on occassion) but I really, really like it. It's everything I expected and a bunch of stuff I didn't. I enjoy feeling her move around in there and snuggle in for the night. I like trying to guess what she's doing in there and then telling Adam "stories" about those activities. I like preparing our home and our lives for this additional person. I just love being pregnant.

I wanted to put this out there because I think it's the one thing I want to remember most about pregnancy...the thing I want to be sure to tell Lucy. But at some point I should probably write those blogs about childbirth class, our impromptu trip to labor and delivery, and finishing the nursery.