A Look Inside

Above is a picture of our Macie at 34 weeks, 4 days.  She has her daddy's nose, and I think she has my mouth.  My mom pulled out baby pics of my siblings and weighed in similarly.  I do know this though: I've never seen such a beautiful person in all my life.  I never thought I would think this about a baby--honestly, they usually seem a little funny looking to me (as I'm sure this pic may to you).  But as soon as I saw her, I was enamored.  She's definitely ours.

Ready or Not

I plan to bring home a baby girl, hopefully 7 pounds-ish, in approximately four weeks. Four weeks? Four weeks! This whole IVF & pregnancy ordeal is suddenly becoming so real. (As if poking around my insides and nether-region hadn't already convinced me of the reality.) So now what? I work for three more weeks. I complain (occasionally if Tim's lucky) about my back hurting. I drink Jamba Juice. I watch movies. I go to church stuff. I enjoy numerous baby showers (thanks, gals!). I read another book or two. And then, bam, I'm a mom? Really? Just like that?

After Tim and I visited the doctor today and listened to a rough time-table for Macie's arrival, I asked him, "Are you ready to be a dad in three-and-a-half weeks?" His answer: "I don't know." Well, daddy-to-be, too late now. I know it seems strange that a couple with fertility issues would have this dilemma. If I saw this blog, I would think, "If you're not ready after trying for three years, maybe it's time to put this idea on the back-burner." But whether we had to wait three years or five years or ten years and on and on . . . I think we would still have the same "Oh my gosh, we're actually having a baby" feelings.

That's actually part of the reason years ago I so wanted to have an "oops, we're pregnant" kind of baby-surprise. I wanted to feel that even though I didn't plan or work for a baby, God saw fit to grant one to me because I would be such an awesome mother. When that didn't happen, the doubts about me as that "perfect mother" set in with a vengeance. Maybe I wasn't supposed to be one after all. It seems that's a common feeling among the fertility challenged such as us.

But on this end of fertility treatment and pregnancy, fully knowing that the world is upside down and no list of qualifications or personality-drawbacks seems to determine whether or not one can make a child, I realize that I still have some of the same insecurities that beset me before Macie's creation. This afternoon as I rested (napped) I contemplated the question I asked Tim: Am I ready to be a parent in three-and-a-half weeks? Anxiety waited, ready to pounce on the question, but instead the first thought that came to mind brought comfort. I MUST be ready because she's almost ready to arrive. After all, she is what makes me "mom." I may not feel ready for 2am, 4am, 6am feedings. Or the nasty diapers. Or the crying--and how the heck do I know which cry means what? But someway or another, I trust that the One who put this baby together in the petri-dish (no, not Dr. Gill--who I highly recommend, by the way) and watched her implant on the bottom right side of my uterus (sorry if that's TMI) and then made her heart beat just on time knows exactly the right time for Macie to enter her destiny while mom and dad try to figure out how exactly parenting fits into our own.

My Reason to Relax

Last Monday, Macie and I had an adventurous day. I arrived at my doctor's office after a stressful day at work, rushing to get there on time, and the nurse found my blood pressure a bit higher than normal. I also had to discuss the fact that I'd spotted slightly that day, and between the two issues, they sent me directly to the hospital for observation. After a couple of hours, the hospital found all well and sent me home.

A crazy start to a busy week in which I met with 25 students regarding admission into National Honor Society, graded numerous junior research papers, and fielded dozens of questions from students. And now, I rest. Spring Break officially began today, and I've devoted my hours to napping, lunch with my sister, and napping. Although a pile of grading and prep work for my sub looms before me, I've decided to get to it when I get to it. In the meantime, Macie and I will relax in preparation for the big event which could be as soon as 3 weeks away. (I'm in Week 33 right now).

I justify my time of rest and relaxation with the knowledge of the risk of hypertension amongst PCOS gals. So far, I've dodged the increased risk of gestational diabetes. Now, I attempt to keep my blood pressure as normal as possible by enjoying Spring Break. Nice excuse, huh?

Fluffing my Feathers

I believe I am now in the stage known as nesting. Unfortunately, as I told Tim last night, my nesting has nothing to do with furiously (or even non-furiously) cleaning the house. Obviously. And it has nothing to do with making sure my daughter has a place to sleep--still no crib. However, I did just spend the last few minutes cleaning my school desk, discussing missing work with students, and contemplating the best timing to take all their artwork/writing samples off the wall. I've arranged for a sub to take my advisory, and I'm anxiously hoping to meet final candidates for my sub position. And yes, I still have until April 9 to teach. What is this strange urge to get everything ready and in place right NOW???!!!

I also found myself unable to sleep earlier this week as I thought about the mound of grading from junior research to sophomore projects. I'm definitely concerned that Macie will make her appearance before my professional life is in order. Tomorrow marks Week 32, and although we'd prefer she stayed inside at least four more weeks, I'm happy to know that she would most likely be ready enough for the outside-world, even though mommy may not be quite ready yet. As of tomorrow: 8 months and counting.