Day 119

Much baby related news to share with you… But first, thanks to our friends at BabyCenter.com, I know that today (22 weeks) my baby is the length of a spaghetti squash. Here’s a tip: don’t Google spaghetti squash. Every image that comes back is a picture of a my-baby-sized yellow gourd being gutted. Gee, thanks BabyCenter.com for that image. Next time, why don’t you remind me how my baby’s entrails can be served up with angel hair pasta.

On to today’s post…

#1. We settled on a stroller/car-seat combination. We found a Right Start baby store near us that carries a much higher quality of stroller than you find in crummy ol’ Babies ‘R Us. (If you got your stroller from Babies ‘R Us, I apologize. Strike that. I don’t apologize. This is my blog, and if I want to be an unabashed stroller snob, I can. You and your chintzy stroller can suck it.*)

* This request doesn’t apply to family/friends; only to strangers for whom I have little empathy.

Bob Revolution 12" AW stroller

Anyway, where was I … Oh yes, so we found a nice store that had our favorite strollers on display for us to try out. And the winner is: THE BOB REVOLUTION 12″ ALL WHEEL!

Now, I won’t bore you by extolling its virtues… of which you can be assured there are MANY. But here were the top reasons why we chose it after comparing it in-person to the waaay overpriced Orbit and Bugaboo strollers.

i. Look at those freakin big ass 12″ rubber tires with steel spokes. None of that hard plastic shit you find on other models.

ii. A suspension system. Awww yeah.

iii. In my wife’s first try, she was able to collapse this thing and prop it back up with one hand. By far the easiest to open and close that we tested.

iv. Another couple was in the store with an Orbit, and I asked them how they liked it, “Heavy.” I went around lifting strollers. Bob Revolution was certainly lighter.

v. You can keep the car seat adapter on the stroller when it is collapsed. With the Bugaboo and others, you had to detach the car seat adapter before collapsing the stroller. Saves a step.

vi. It works with our favorite car seat, which is from Graco.

vii. Best of all… The stroller’s name is “Bob.”  I am SO ready to start using this name. “Honey, where’s Bob?” “Is Bob in the trunk?” I love naming inanimate objects.

So, there you have it. After 3 weeks of Googling non-stop, and trying out in-stores, we settled on Bob.

Seahawk cake at my baby shower

#2. While I was visiting my work this past week, they threw me a surprise baby shower. Photos to come soon. I was blown away. And I was a complete dork, because I didn’t know what to do. I’ve never been to a shower before. They made me wear bows on my head, and we played games. Everytime someone else won… I won baby gifts too. That’s my kind of contest. It was amazing. It was a tailgating themed party, so all the food was hot dogs and chili and dip and chips and wings… oh. So good. And the person even made a Seahawk shaped cake. Oh, and I got the DAMN CUTEST onesie I’ve ever seen: it’s a Seahawks jersey. So cute.

Oh, and to underscore my complete dorkiness… I hate opening gifts while people watch me. I love attention; but not that kind. My style of attention is making jokes under my breath in the back of class. I absolutely cannot stand people watching me open gifts. It is unnerving. Anyway, I’d open the gift, and look and it, and coo over it. And then put it in a pile. Well, everyone said, “Hold it up so we can see!” Oh. Right. I hadn’t realized. Apparently, someone was taking notes for me on what I was getting. Like I said, I felt like a complete dork. But, one of the best parties that has ever been thrown for me. Thanks, Peanut.

#3. We had another OB appt this morning. Alas, no photos to share with you. But, everything is progressing well. My wife is disappointed that her baby bump is not more obvious. She can’t wait for it to be like a basketball in front of her so a.) she can wear tight shirts to show of her baby belly, and b.) so strangers know with complete certainty that she is pregnant. I think she is frustrated that she doesn’t look pregnant yet, and in her words, “People just think I’m fat.”  Awww. Poor thing. The cool thing is, I can tell. And that’s all that matters, right? I’ve tried various tactics to cheer her up from this notion, ranging from, “What do you care what strangers think?” to “You’re pregnant. It’s like being on vacation. Get fat. Who cares. Eat whatever you want! Enjoy it.”  Neither seems to be the proper strategem. Advice welcomed.

Also at our OB appointment, we found that Peanut is already head down. The doctor said, “There’s little indication that your baby will stay that way.” But still, that’s a good sign. Peanut just has to hold that position for the next 4 months.

#4. In the last week, she has started feeling Peanut. I think that’s the “quickening.” (Highlander, anyone?) Which you think would be an amazing thing, but now, Peanut gets fidgety at bed time. I guess when you go from walking and sitting and standing and moving (which is basically rocking Peanut), to laying still, your baby is like, “Hey, c’mon. Start the ride back up!”

#5. We settled on a hospital. Los Alamitos. It’s not the closest hospital to us, but still only about 12-15 minutes away. If Peanut is high-risk or we expect any complications, the better hospital is right down the road from us, with a NICU and all that. But, since things seem to be smooth sailing (thus far), and since the closest hospital is … umm… hmm… [searching for proper way to phrase this]… in a less than ideal part of town… well, we decided to head towards another hospital.

So that’s all the baby news for the past two weeks. Oh, and we’ve narrowed down our name lists to 5-girl, and 4-boy. And no, we won’t tell you what they are.

Day 99

Today marks the 99th day since I found out my wife was pregnant. And the good news we received this week was that the last of my wife’s “sequential screening” tests came back with high flying colors. According to the test (which is a non-invasive alternative to amniocentisis and is 91% accurate), Peanut has a 1 in 10,000 chance of having a chromosomal disorder such as Down’s or Trisomy 18. So that’s good.

My wife had wanted us to wait until we created our baby registry, or went on our baby shopping spree until we knew with certainty that everything would work out. While part of her still kind of wants to do an amnio, I think she’s resigned to the fact that these odds are adequately in our favor. So full steam ahead! She’s ready to go baby-stuff shopping. (Oooh boy. Can’t wait.)  Although I’d prefer to shop online; she insists that she has to see the items in person. Which is going to ruin my plan of an entire online nursury.

That’s really all I have to tell you today.

Day 92

Peanut in 3D!

This is a continuation of yesterday’s post. I had so much to tell you, I wanted to give you a break. (This isn’t a Gabriel Garcia Marquez book after all.*)

*Autumn of the Patriarch. Look it up.

So as you can see by the eerie photo to the right: our OB at yesterday’s appointment also gave us a “3D” Sonogram of Peanut. It’s not a true 3D image, but reconstructed from a series of 2D slices. Anyway, there you go. Make of it what you will. I think it looks like a cross between Casper the Friendly Ghost and the remains of Tutenkamen.

Yesterday when my wife laid down on the exam table, was the first time I actually noticed a little baby bump. When she stands up, it’s hard to see, but when she was laying down, I could clearly see it. That was exciting. And it also happened to be the area where the doctor was performing the sonogram. (So that proves  or doctor knows what he’s doing — if he had starting taking an ultrasound of her ear, I would have been worried.)

As he pressed with the transducer (look at me all fancy with ultrasound terminology), I could see Peanut moving for the first time. And boy oh boy– let me tell you — Peanut was squirming like a mad man (or mad woman). Definitely did not like getting pressed against. You could clearly see Peanut wiggling and squirming his/her feet around. It was so cute. I asked my wife if she felt it, and she didn’t — but she also admitted she doesn’t know what it should feel like, so she’s not sure if she felt it or not.

Before the doctor performed the OB, he asked us if we wanted to know the sex. We said emphatically, “NO”. We want to be surprised. So he made a big note in the chart so he wouldn’t accidentally give it away.

And of course — what is the first thing we go and do during the sonogram? Search for a penis. The doctor goes through each section of the baby to make sure things are developing as they should. (We could see two brain lobes!) Then he checks the chest and looks for… well… I’m not sure… things babies should have; which it turns out Peanut has. Along the way he also showed us the umbilical cord, which was all twisty and umblically. And then he was looking down around the pelvis and we’re not sure… but we each (independently without conferring with each other) think we may have seen a tiny wee wee. (Or was it just part of the umblicical cord?) My brother-in-law, who already had his first and is working on #2, says, “Everybody thinks they see a penis.” Which may be true. Because there was nothing definitive, just a blob on the screen. So who knows. I still think it’s a girl. My wife still thinks it’s a boy.

(PS- You know when mothers tell you, “Oh, I just knew what my baby’s sex was. I just knew it. I don’t know how, but I did.” Yeah, well, c’mon. You had a 50/50 chance. For every woman who “just knew it,” I’m sure there’s another woman who is keeping her mouth shut because she was wrong. Maybe I’m not all mushy about the miracle of life, but I think some moms-to-be go overboard in hyperbolizing their maternal instincts. Honestly, you didn’t KNOW, not in the sense that you can KNOW if God exists, for example. Sure, you had a hunch, but it was 50/50. Really, I’m not impressed. Anyway, my wife assures me she won’t do that. Which doesn’t preclude us from each having our hunch, but we’re not hubristic enough to boldly proclaim, “We know the sex of the baby” or “we knew it all along.” Of course, if Peanut is a boy, I’m sure she’ll remind me of that.)

Last bit of news from yesterday’s exam… My wife had her blood drawn for the second part of the sequential screening process. In her first trimester, the screening came back with normal risk levels. Now we see if the second test also comes back within normal levels to know if we need further testing. The whole point of the sequential screening process is to see if you need to go on for invasive testing (i.e., an amniocentisis). And it is 91% accurate at detecting chromosomal abnormalities, whereas an amnio is 99%. Her risk was like 1 in 2500 or something. Which is excellent. So, as long as the second test returns with similar good news, then we should be able to avoid an amnio. I know my wife would like to have a definitive answer, but at 91% — that’s pretty darn good. And I think she is accepting that is about as good as an answer as you can get. Plus, coupled with her risk being so low, I think all signs indicate that an amnio would be unnecessary — especially since the complication risk due to amnio has been estimated at 1 in 200 to 1 in 1000, depending on which study you want to believe.

Long story short: Cross your fingers and toes and hope all goes well.

Day 91: The kinda’ post you’ve patiently waited for

Oh boy, this blog entry is going to be huge. It’s chock full of so much goodness, you would need 8 bowls of your regular blog to match the bloggy goodness you will get in one Papi Nuevo entry.

Peanut 18 weeks 01/02/2009

Oooh, where to begin. Let’s start with… NEW PICTURES! (Because let’s be honest– that’s the first thing your eye went to, so let’s just get it out of the way.)  To the right is a picture of Peanut, at (roughly) 18 weeks. Keep in mind this is a slice of Peanut that you’re looking at– imagine if Peanut was cut clean in half. (So that’s why there’s no arms or feet — at least I hope.) Man, look at that spine. Creepy. But the doctor assured me that a spine was — apparently — a good thing, so at least I know we’re having a vertebrate and not a zooplankton baby. (Invertebrate jokes!!! Yes!!! See, this entry is only 2 paragraphs old, and I’m bringing the A material.)

My wife hasn’t felt any movement yet, and she’s nearly 18 weeks along. The doctor said that’s normal, and that most first time mothers don’t experience movement until week 20, on average. I guess mom’s who have had babies before start to feel movement around week 18. (I guess when you’re a first time mom, you assume it’s gas?) By the way, they have a name for this: quickening. Now, call me crazy (“crazy”), but I thought that was a Highlander movie. (When you cut off the head of an Immortal and all the power transfers to you, thank YOU very much Christopher Lambert.) I wonder which use of the word came first? Hmm. I feel like someone at EMI Films should’ve thought that through a little better.*

*PS – For that brief tangent, I did a quick IMDB.com lookup of the “Highlander” movie series… EMI Films… wow. What a powerhouse production company. Their last few films consist of, “Culture Club: Greatest Hits”, Please Hammer Don’t Hurt ‘Em: The Movie (1990), and not only “Evil Under the Sun” (1982), but also the award winning “Making of ‘Evil Under the Sun’” (1982). Spectacular. Can I just take a brief moment to tell you how tickled I am by the suffix “The Movie” after “Please Hammer Don’t Hurt ‘Em.”  You know, so you don’t confuse it with “Please Hammer Don’t Hurt ‘Em: The Video Game” or “Please Hammer Don’t Hurt ‘Em: The Parcel Post Letter with Signature Confirmation.”  I think more films should add “: The Movie” after the title, to make it sound more venerable. “Schindler’s List: The Movie”… so you don’t get confused and think you’re going to watch a 3 hour pan across an actual list. (Did I just make a Schindler’s List reference? WOW.)

Anyway, back to Peanut’s picture. As you know, 18 weeks is sort of a guesstimate. In the lower right corner of the pic there are 3 different EDDs (Estimated Delivery Dates?) based on a few different measurements. LMP = last menstrual period, and by that the date of birth is still estimated to be 06/04/2009. AC = Abdominal Circumference, and by that measurement, the EDD is 06-07-2009. (Which I think was also the EDD in the last picture we had a month ago when they did the CRL or “Crown to Rump Length” measurement.) Which is somewhat of a relief, because I come from a hearty stock of people; how do you say… people with a healthy “AC.” Not that I expected my fetus to be shaped like a Turnip… but I’m just relieved that the sonogram estimate didn’t assume my baby was due next month, that’s all I’m trying to say. And finally, the FL (Femur Length) indicates a delivery date of 05-28-2009. (But they all have an error factor of about +/- 12 days, so the FL could still indicate a baby in the first week.) Although it’s kind of exciting to think that Peanut is already “tall for his/her age.”(Yeah yeah, I know — there’s probably no correlation between FL and actual heighth of the baby as an adult, but still… a guy can dream can’t he?)

By the way, the sonogram we got back in June that estimated June 7th as the delivery date said it had a 3% margin of error, I think. So that’s the date I’m sticking with. But a pool will be starting shortly.

Fetus Food Equivolent o’ The Week: This week, BabyCenter.com tells me that Peanut is the length of a bell pepper. Now when I have fajitas, all I will think about is eating babies. Wonderful job, BabyCenter.com.

Lesson Learned this week: Trying to go toe-to-toe with a pregnant woman on meals is a bad idea. (I don’t want to increase my AC.) We went to a drive-thru donut stand the other day and ordered 1 old fashioned. I was a good boy and did not get anything. But damn, that’s really hard to do. And I can’t pretend to be all pious — because I had about 1/4 of the donut anyway. When I eat with my wife I call it solidarity, when I choose not to, I call it will power. It’s a win win really.

House update of the week: Two updates regarding the house. #1, we had a pest control guy come out, but since we don’t have an attic (only a 12″ crawl space), and since we don’t have access to said crawl space, he couldn’t do anything. But he did make some recommendations about covering gutter spouts, pruning our palm trees, and wrapping some sheet metal towards the base of the palm tree trunk. (So the rat can’t climb the palm tree.) So we went to home depot and picked up all that stuff. And while there, we also found an electronic rodent thing-a-ma-jiggy. You plug it into your wall, and it apparently sends a signal or buzzing or something through your house’s electrical wires that annoys rodents. The good news is — we haven’t heard from the rat in the past 4 nights. So either we’re sleeping more soundly (that’s not it), or the fixes we put in place worked.

House Update #2: I’m happy to report I did my math wrong, and we may still qualify for the Hope 4 Homeowners act. So I’m going to start the ball rolling on that and see how far we get. We may end up not qualifying — because we’re not really down on our luck — but boy oh boy would that be sweet if we did. I would happily walk away and move up to Portland near other family. But, I don’t want to get my hopes up, so I’ll reserve excitement until we know more.

We also spent the past few days looking up houses online near Portland. (Well, about 30 minutes outside of Portland, in the same town as my brother-and-sister-in-law.) On the surface, I tell my wife, “Why do you do that to yourself? You know we can’t move yet.” It’s like the debate between Red (Morgan Freeman) and Andy (Tim Robbins) about whether hope was a good thing or not. “Let me tell you something my friend. Hope is a dangerous thing. Hope can drive a man insane.” But, between you and me and the 3 billion people on this planet who have access to this blog, I enjoy it. It’s fun to dream of owning a new place. As Andy writes back to Red, “Remember Red, hope is a good thing, maybe the best of things, and no good thing ever dies.”

Random Reflection on Life o’ the week: It’s weird to be an adult and think to yourself, “I want a new house.” And really, there’s nothing stopping you from doing that. (Well, assuming you aren’t trapped in a cruddy mortgage like we are.)  Or similarly, “I want a new car.” And boom. You can go out and finance one. That is still weird to me. Every day I decide to wake up and put on pants. And just like that, I can wake up and make a life-altering decision like, “Let’s buy a house.” I guess I’ve been an adult for awhile, but that concept still feels foreign to me. As I sit here and type, it’s strange to look around and think, “Holy crap. This is all on me. If I lose my job or something happens… this all comes crashing down.” Sort of a “flying without a safety net or parents to fall back on.” I feel like I just aged a wee bit from I was when I started typing this paragraph. Hmm.

Day 66: The most recent test

Last Thursday my wife had her follow-up OB with our chosen OB. The good news is that he says all of the blood work and tests so far have come back with a clean bill of health. (Like there was any doubt. My seed is good.)

They didn’t give my wife a photo — and to be honest, I can’t remember if an ultrasound exam was performed. I’m a notoriously horrible listener. So she probably told me, but I forget. I think she said they did not perform one, but she also mentioned that the doctor revised her delivery date to June 7th. (Which would point to the fact that he would have done an ultrasound in order to re-estimate the delivery date.)  Ehh, who knows. Long story short: Healthy baby. June 7th.

I’m thinking I will start an office pool with my customers to see who can come closest to the delivery date and time. In the interest of fairness, I should point out that my wife has 7 siblings. Of her mother’s 8 children, I’m pretty sure just about every one was late. So please factor that into your wagering.

On the day of her recent check-up, my wife had just completed her 14th week. And you know what that means… FOOD COMPARISONS by email. And sure enough, BabyCenter.com did not dissapoint. This week, my baby is the size of a lemon.

I wonder what will be next? A Hass avacado? That’s bigger than a lemon, right? At least the big ones are. My wife says Grapefruit. I think that may be an eventual one, but I can’t imagine Peanut growing from a Lemon to Grapefruit in just one week. That’s a lot of fruit my friend. I can’t wait for pineapple.

So 14 weeks. That means she started the second trimester. More good news is that her all-day “morning” sickness is now starting to subside. She said it’s mostly confined to waking up / getting ready in the morning, and then after she takes her vitamins. And that’s a huge improvement from basically feeling sick from sun-up to sun-down. A couple times she’s gotten dizzy or had to sit down, but for the most part — she’s feeling muuuuuch better.

Day 49: Whoa… it’s a… human!

I had to skip from Day 44, to Day 49 to catch myself back up in real time. It’s hard to come up with something baby related every day of the week; especially when the baby is the size of a lime. (Thank YOU BabyCenter.com for your ongoing reminder of what food my baby resembles most in size this week.)

But today I legitimately have some actual baby news. My wife had a “sequential screening” test today, where they take some ultrasounds looking at thickness of the yolk sack and some other factors that determine genetic risk. And she was poked to get some blood. (Yuck.)

OB of our baby at 12 weeks.

But, on the bright side — we got a new photo of Peanut to share! And wouldjya look at that… Peanut is actually starting to look like a tiny human. You can make out her left arm curled up by her left ear, and it’s harder to tell, but you can barely see the right arm doing the same thing. And her legs are visible too. (Although there appears to be a gap between her feet and her legs… so either she has magic floating feet, or her legs end in pointy little stumps, or the ultrasound just couldn’t “see” the whole legs clearly.)

Oh, by the way– my wife doesn’t like it when I make jokes about malformities in our baby, because she feels karma will repay me somehow. So, for the record, “I [Name Withdrawn for Purposes of Public Blog], do hereby swear that I wish no undue harm, deformation, or any other malady against my unborn child. I want a healthy and happy baby.”

There. That should cover my bases, just in case.

Anyway, the OB tech also said the cranium was forming well, which is a good sign that there are no neural tube defects. That’s good. Everyone needs a well-formed cranium, right?

By the way, my wife just pointed out that I’m writing “she” in all my sentences in today’s blog. This will be explained in tomorrow’s blog.

Day 35: Paging Dr. Right

Thanks for all the room, mom

Today was our second OB visit with our second OB doctor. We didn’t really click with the first OB we tried. And I’m happy to report that this one was much better.

So we go to the office, and the staff was friendly off the bat. And the office was nicer. Yeah, I realize that probably should matter — like when voting, you probably shouldn’t care whether someone is black when deciding if they’d be a good president — but let’s face it, that sort of thing happens.

Anyhoo… I’ve worked at a few medical clinics… and I’m telling you, a clinic is only as good as their front desk staff. No matter how great the doctor is, if the front desk staff is disorganized they can lose your folders, and/or file your stuff wrong. (Case in point: The staff at the first OB place never called my wife with the results of her blood work. She had to get that from the second OB doctor today. Oh, and the results were all normal, thanks for asking.)

So the first thing we did was sit down with the doctor in his office, and he took time to talk with us. That in itself blew me away. The doctor is probably in his mid 50s, and he’s a distance runner. (Read: Tall, thin.) He’s Jewish, and has that kind of Jewish nervous energy about him… but I’m willing to overlook that because he took the time to answer all of our questions and more.

Then we went into an exam room, and he did a battery of tests, and did another ultrasound. He told us that from the date of LMP, we were due June 4th. But after he measured Peanut on the monitor, his better guess was June 12th. Maybe we’ll start a betting pool to see who can pick the actual date.

Side note: New favorite joke. Whenever we get one of these print-outs of Peanut, which is essentially a blob in a larger blob, I like to loudly announce (so the staff can hear me), “It looks more like you.” (Seriously, all I care about is making the front desk staff laugh. The doctor talks and to me it sounds like, “Wahwahwahwah wahwahwah…” and I’m in my own world thinking of jokes to make about my blurry sonogram picture.)

My wife got to ask all of her questions, and he seemed very knowledgeable and gave friendly answers. And he set my wife up with a bunch of genetic tests, that the previous doctor didn’t even mention. He seems much more thorough. And plus, his front desk staff was on the ball. By the time we came out they had pamphlets ready, appointments set up, and forms ready to go. Here’s a hint: See how cluttered the desk is at the front. If there’s loose paper everywhere, run… because they’re going to misplace your insurance information and/or not process the claim properly. This second OB’s office, on the other hand, was neat and orderly. A very good sign.

So all in all, I think we found the man who is going to drop our baby. (By the way, I got in trouble earlier for making that joke. My wife said, “If he had a history of that, I think it’d be in his disciplinary report I read.” And I said, “Maybe they have an allowable number of drops per delivery, like a threshold, before it gets reported for disciplinary action.” “I’m pregnant… are you trying to make me nervous about giving birth?”  Sigh. You just can’t win with a pregnant woman. All they have to do is pull out the, “I’m pregnant” card and it immediately trumps all other cards, like the Queen of Spades. No matter what else follows. As long as it starts with, “I’m pregnant…” you immediately lose all arguments/debates/conversations. “I’m pregnant… You should wash the car.”  Boom, done.)

Oh, two important things about the photo that I wanted to mention: Since I the doctor estimated the delivery date to be June 12th, based on the size, that means he thinks the baby is probably closer to 9 weeks, rather than the 10 week estimate I’ve been using. So I’m through with all this trying to remember how many days along my wife is. Odds are, it’s all made up anyway since we don’t really know the precise conception date. So, I’m going to stick with just listing the # of days since I found out, since that’s the only date about which I can be sure.

Secondly, I got my first piece of bad baby news on this OB visit… on the size, when he said, “Your baby is a little small for 10 weeks…” I sort of got defensive inside. “Fuck you, you quack. YOU’RE a small baby. How do you like that, Dr. Dipshit.” So that’s not a good sign. But, I now understand he meant that the baby is the right size for 9 weeks.

Last thing about the picture: Notice how the baby hardly has any room? The dark space to the upper left is my wife’s bladder. She had to go pretty badly, and it was squeezing Peanut’s space. I said, “You have to hurry up and go to the bathroom, Peanut doesn’t have any room to breathe.” Then she muttered something about baby’s not breathing, or I don’t know. “Wahwahwahwahwah…” I was already off thinking about my next joke…

Day 34: OB Visit, Take 2

Days pregnant: 69 U.S., 55 Europe

Nothing much to report on the baby front. Tomorrow is our second OB “Try Outs.” We’re visiting Doctor #2, to see if we like this cat any better than the first lady. Oh, and the first lady was awful, so unless he greets us with his pants around his ankles and/or a raging erection poking out from under his doctor’s smock… he’d be hard pressed to underwhelm us further.*

*And even then I would still consider him. After all, if the guy has the balls (pun intended) to greet us staring down the barrel of his penis… that’s a doctor who loves life! I want that guy. (As long as he never directly faces my wife’s vagina. Hmm… on second thought, maybe that’s a bad idea.)

During our last OB visit, my wife had some blood work and urine tests done. Just routine stuff, as I understand it. So I think we’re supposed to get those results as well. (Which is weird, because I would have expected to have received them already. I think that other OB’s office is incredibly unorganized, and they probably have the results sitting on the fax machine and haven’t told us yet.)

And just maybe we’ll get a new ultrasound scan of Peanut. That’d be kind of cool. She’ll be just about finishing her 10th week, so we’ll see whatever the ultrasound can tell us about Peanut at 10 weeks. (“Good news, you’re baby doesn’t have 8 limbs.” I don’t know.)

Oh, and today my wife bought her first pair of pregnancy pants. (With the big elastic waist band thingy.) So… yeah. I guess that’s cool in a “pregnancy milestone” kind of way. I think the cutest part about it was that she seemed quite excited about it — like she couldn’t wait to buy it. So for nothing else, I’m excited that she’s excited. (But I also have $25 riding on the Denver Broncos game tomorrow, and that has me more excited, if it helps give you perspective on how I place “stretchy waist pants” in my excitedness rankings.)

Day 28: I never learned to read… calendars

Days pregnant: 63 U.S., 49 Europe

Every week I get an email from BabyCenter.com, and they remind me what Peanut looks like this week. This week, my “new resident” (like we just put an ad on Craigslist for a new roommate?), is nearly an inch long and is about the size of a grape. I’m assuming they mean seedless grape. I love that every week they use food analogies. I wonder what they’ll say in week 38. “This week, your baby is the size of a small Thanksgiving turkey, the kind that would feed about 6 or 8 people, if nobody was too picky about eating some of the dark meat; otherwise you might have some leftovers for the dog.”

Part of the email says, “You’re 9 weeks pregnant!” And I thought to myself, no we’re not. We just finished 8 weeks. But, now I think I’ve been counting wrong. All these different dates– beginning of menstrual period, conception date, date we found out we were pregnant, etc…”  It’s all very confusing to a nincompoop like me.

So… let’s get this settled once and for all… start date of LMP: August 29th, roughly. That would make today… let’s see… carry the one… The start of our 10th week. What the hell. Wait a minue. If Aug 29th was day zero, she just completed her 9th week, which means she is 63 Days pregnant, not 56. Hmm. I’m all backwards.

Where did I screw up??? Time-out. Blog off. Please go do something for a couple minutes while I read back in my posts.

[Intermission music]

Blog on… It was the post on October 13th. I said my wife was 4 weeks pregnant when we found out… and she was actually 5 weeks pregnant (by U.S. standards), and 3 weeks by everyone else’s standard–i.e., conception date. Okay, not that it matters to you, but because I fully expect this blog to become so famous that it becomes core curriculum for children in grade school someday, I want things to be accurate. (Oh, and cuz I’m a wee bit anal.) So I just went back and corrected my previous posts.

Well… I guess I’ve been lying to you this entire time. My bad. On the bright side: we’re a week closer to being done. Unfortunately, the due date is still June 4th. Go figure.

Day 25: Peanut 1, ObGyn 0

Yup, that's our Peanut!!!

Days pregnant: 60 U.S., 46 Europe

Today we had our first OB Gyn visit. Which was a bag of mixed results…

First, the Good: My wife’s ObGyn performed our first OB sonogram. And we got to see our little peanut on the monitor! (Fetus sounds so cold, and I don’t know if I can legally refer to it as a baby yet. So, we settled on “peanut.” Besides, it was sort of shaped like a peanut.)

I’m not an emotional person — the last time I cried was 2003. I’m not bragging. Far from it. On the contrary, I wish I could cry easier. But years of cynicism, jadedness, and being an emotionally-stunted male have left my tear ducts withered and dry, like a grape vine in January.

So I’m not going to try and win your affection by telling you some BS story about how I cried a single tear or blah blah blah when I saw Peanut on the monitor. No, I didn’t cry. Although, I will admit, it was damn cool. And there was a wave of tingling that washed over me when the ObGyn showed us the heartbeat on the monitor. Sort of like all-over-goosebumps. Suddenly it wasn’t just a little snowman blob in a tunnel on the monitor, it was alive! I made life!

And the rest of the good news… It was in the proper place in the uterus, with the yolk sack and all the other amenities Hotel Uterus is supposed to have. And it was the proper size for being 9 weeks along. And the heartbeat was at 160 (or 168, I forget) beats per minute, right where it was supposed to be. So… all signs point to this being a viable pregnancy. Yahoo. I can’t wait until Thanksgiving when my wife will feel safe that she’s far enough along to spread the word to the rest of our friends and family.

And now for the bad news… We didn’t care much for the ObGyn. I’ve worked in a few different private medical practices and hospital departments, and the one thing I’ve learned: a doctor is only as good as their supporting staff. And her front desk staff was not very good. I can tell when a staff is organized, and these girls were definitely not. Also, my wife and I had many questions, and we felt like the doctor sort of rushed through them or was in a rush to get us on our way. (Note to self: don’t make an appointment at the end of the day.) And there were a few other minor annoyances — it’s funny, but when you’re looking for a reason to not like a doctor, it’s very easy to find them, no matter how petty the reason, “Did you notice how her left cuff was slightly higher than her right cuff? We’re not going back to that quack!”  Stuff like that. Anyway, petty or not, the overall feeling/vibe my wife and I got was underwhelming, so we’re going to go look for another ObGyn next week.

My wife works in the medical field as well, and she got a good (I hope) recommendation from one of her hospital clients, so we’ll meet him next week.

Day 8: Finding out what we already knew

Well, chalk this up to a lesson in, “You never really can predict…”

My wife and I had agreed for her to go see her OBGYN at the start of November, which would be about 7-8 weeks along in our pregnancy. As it turns out, I guess only I had agreed, because yesterday my wife made an appointment with her primary care physician.

They gave her a urine test, and … we just discovered what we already knew: Yes, she is still pregnant. And then they told her to see an OBGYN (surprise), and then they confirmed that the prenatal vitamins and extra DHA pills she is taking are good to take. (Another shocker.) So, for $15 copay… we found out what we already knew, and given instructions we already had. But because she’s only 4 weeks along, they can’t take any images yet, or give us any other information. (Which we also already knew.) So… I’m glad “we” decided to do that.

Okay, I say that in jest. I’m only (slightly) kidding about that $15 I’ll never get back. I have no room to complain, because she wanted reassurance and peace of mind. And $15 is worth it. (I gueeeeess.)

But, it seems with the internet and information being so pervasive, it’s a lot easier to delay doctor visits. I don’t know. Maybe it’s just ‘cuz I’m a guy… and I go to my car mechanic more often than I go to my doctor, and I like that gene that controls “empathy.” (I laugh at people falling down. Does that make me a bad person?)

Day 1

Pee on me and I predict your future

Today’s Friday. My wife’s period is now officially a week overdue. That’s good news. This is the end of our first month of really trying. (And I mean really trying — like every other day trying for two straight weeks. That’s a whole ‘nuther blog post in itself.)

My wife and I decided that if her period had not started by Friday, then she would do a home pregnancy test. Sort of a great way to kick off the weekend. (And to be honest, deep down, I think we both knew that her missing her period, in conjunction with us trying so many times, meant she probably was pregnant. But an HPT would be a nice reassurance.)

In true Papi Nuevo form, I first went to my favorite website consumerreports.org and researched the best HPTs to buy. (FYI, Winner: First Respose Early Result Pregnancy Test.)

So then I did what so many teenagers have done before me: I marched on down to my local Target to buy an HPT. It was weird buying it, because I have a mental image that most people run in, grab an HPT, and that’s the only item they purchase.

I, on the other hand, had a shopping list with me. It’s kind of weird to be so laissez faire about a monumental event that can change my life forever. I found it humorous that I was purchasing an HPT along side some rather mundane grocery items, like: more floss, whole wheat muffins, extra disposable razors, etc. My brain starting thinking of what would be the best combination of items to buy, in order to confuse the Target staff: HPT, Vaseline, wire hangers?

Tangential note: I ended up buying the First Response Early Result Pregnancy Test GOLD. After all, gold must be better, right? I think the difference was it had a digital read out with a clear “YES” or “NO” display. Either way, it was only $2 more, and after debating awhile, I decided my unborn child’s future could be worth an extra $2.

So I got home. The wife was still at work, and since I work at home, I had little to do Friday afternoon, so it seemed like a good time to fire up Halo 3. I realize this is the first post, but I can already guarantee you readers that down the road sometime, my love of Halo 3 is going to be a major sticking point in this whole “baby thing.” Time will tell…

My wife got home at about 6pm, and I danced around her like an excited puppy until she was ready to trudge upstairs and pee on the stick. And let’s be straight about this, as this may be a recurring theme throughout this blog: I was/am VERY excited to have a baby. I can’t wait. I’m 33, and am pumped. I’m ready to be a daddy.

My wife called me up and said, “So do you want to see the results?” Well, I was in the middle of a Team Slayer game on Halo… and there are very few things in life that will pull me away from that. (Quitting in the middle affects your game ranking and your online reputation.) I’ll admit, I hesitated at first, but decided that the HPT results might be a tad more important than my game. (If only slightly.)

The read-out said “+YES” so it looks like all systems are ‘go.’ And the best part is, instead of being flooded with emotions such as, “Oh my goodness, what are we going to do? This is going to change things!”  My initial thoughts were, “Oh boy, this is going to be fun.”

So yeah, I’m pretty darn excited.