Thursday, April 1, 2010

8.5 weeks

I remember being 8.5 weeks pregnant. And thinking that this is NEVER going to end, this is going to take forever!! It's going to be NEXT YEAR before I see my baby, halfway THROUGH next year before I see him!

I had things to keep me busy, planning a wedding, working hard, moving, and everything else in between.

Now, its only 8.5 weeks to go. Until the due date. He might be early, he might be late... but its about that long.

It seems like a lifetime ago I was peeing on a stick and trying not to hyperventilate at 6:00 in the morning, walking around getting ready for work and looking at the stick with my eyes crossed to see that pink line. It was so faint, so pale. But one little line changed everything.

We went to our first of four childbirth classes last night. Some cheesy videos, some talking about things that made Dan make weird faces, some stuff that made ME make weird faces. And a little moment at the end showing us a relaxation technique that managed to get me a mini back rub out of it. All in all, not as cheesy as I was expecting it to be. And while its all stuff I already knew so far, it's good that its coming in a class and that I am not the one who has to talk to Dan and use all those words. Sometimes he gets so squeamish about body stuff. I wonder why... In the end its no big deal, but I did make him promise me that when I am giving birth, his eyes stay NORTH of the border.

Oh, and we also had a prenatal visit that day. All is well! Baby boy is doing fine, good heart rate, and hey, I finally put on ONE pound! Probably lost more than one in the process too. I am liking the results of this diet thing!

But for now, all is well.

I hope these two months go fast, I want to meet my little boy!

1 comment:

  1. Speaking of 8.5 - when Dan was 8.5 years old, and I was very pregnant with David, we were sitting on the front porch swing one day looking at the mail. I got a copy of American Baby magazine, and we looked through it together. Guess what - there were some very graphic pictures of childbirth. I had fun explaining that to my little Danny. Maybe that's why he's so squeamish. That had to be a shock. If I had known what was inside that magazine, we would have looked at something else that fine spring morning in Terre Haute, Indiana.


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