Postpartum Pain in the Ass

The past two and a half months have been a bit of a roller coaster.  I’m not talking about sleepless nights, hours of a crying baby, or any of the other things I knew we might face with a newborn in the house.  H has been very easy-going and a great sleeper from day one, making C and I very lucky and very happy mommies.  Sure there are challenging moments, but all in all, having a newborn has been a joy.  The problem child in our house is me.

Here’s a week by week breakdown of my postpartum joys:

Week 1: Lots of pain from that third degree tear.  Of course I’m not unique in being in pain after giving birth, but I was pretty surprised by how much pain.

Week 2: Postpartum PUPP.  For the uninitiated, PUPP is a rash of itchy red bumps which is pretty common in pregnancy.  I did not have it during pregnancy, but got it two weeks postpartum.  Having roughly 50% of your body covered in itchy red bumps is not really what you want when you are caring for a two-week old baby and aching vajay-jay.

Week 3: Continued PUPP itching and lady parts pain.

Weeks 4 & 5: PUPP is better, thank goodness!  Pain down below continues.  Fear starts to creep in about how long recovery might be, and if things will ever be better again (melodramatic, I know – but it’s scary to have a broken vagina).

Week 6: Postpartum visit with midwife.  Healing well, but still a long way to go.  Midwife uses scary words like “labia laceration” to describe wounds.  Still in pain, glad to hear things are going well, definitely freaked out by how much my body was hurt by the birth, definitely fearing the chance of never feeling normal again.

Week 7: Feeling all around pretty darn good.  Emotionally, I’m not as hormonal as the first month, which makes me feel more like “me.”  Bummed that the continued pain down below is holding me back from feeling 100%.  Wanting to sit on wooden chairs and go for neighborhood strolls without pain.

Week 8: Mastitis.  Oh yes, that dreaded breastfeeding momma ailment.  The one, the only…mastitis.  Now I will say that I know I’m lucky.  I did not have it as badly as many women do.  I did have a clogged milk duct (which took over a week to clear), and I did have flu-like aches and exhaustion, but the clog wasn’t overly painful, I was able to continue nursing without pain, and I didn’t have a fever.  That said, it still sucked.  I was put on antibiotics and just nursed and pumped and took hot showers and baths and chugged water and tried to rest.

Week 9: Allergic reaction to antibiotics.  This is really the cherry atop my postpartum sundae of miseries.  Just as I was finishing my mastitis meds (a form of penicillin) I broke out in an angry, itchy, hive-y rash that put the Postpartum PUPP TO SHAME!!! Never in my life have I been so itchy.  At its worst, the itch level was a FIFTEEN on a scale of one to ten.  I was pacing, I was doing deep breathing and relaxation techniques we learned in childbirth class, I was mentally going to my happy place, I was using all my will power to resist the urge to scratch, I was so itchy that I was crying.  The Accountant and I both agreed – it was worse than childbirth.  I was MISERABLE.

Week 10:  That brings us to the present.  So on Sunday and Monday, I had much improvement with the rash and noticeably less discomfort in the lady parts.  I thought Finally!!! I’m going to get better!!! I’m going to feel good!!!  H napped like a champ on Monday and I buzzed around the house accomplishing all sorts of fun things – laundry, and picture hanging, and organizing, oh my!  And then…  H had a terrible night.  He was wide awake in the middle of the night, crying and resisting sleep.  Well, I guess it could be attributed to overdoing it on Monday and then not getting sleep that night because on Tuesday morning, I woke up to a rash with renewed vengeance!!  Areas that had previously cooled to a light pink were once again angry red and  it was spreading! At its peak, the rash was only under my arms (try not aggravating that while nursing/holding an infant!), now it’s spread down to my elbows, covers my legs, and has even graced the side of my face with one little patch of itchy red.  Thankfully the itch level is lower – less than a ten.

So here I sit, one itchy momma who wants off this ride!!

Yet somehow…

…it’s all worth it.

Birth Story

H was born on Monday, May 3, but his birth story begins on Sunday, May 2.

Leading up to the birth, C and I had been so very busy.  She was working a lot of long hours, and it was all I could do to keep up with my own to-do lists, having just moved into a new house, and getting bigger, slower, and more tired with each passing day.  But Sunday, May 2 was a wonderful day.

We had set aside the day to spend some time with each other and not stress too much about doing things.  We went out for breakfast, installed the car seats, and headed out antiquing.  We didn’t buy anything, but had a great time browsing, and stumbled upon another antique store completely by accident that was amazing. We also found a Mexican restaurant, where we had really yummy tacos.  We arrived back home that afternoon feeling pleased as punch about our day, and decidedly high on life.  It felt like it had been ages since we had a nice, relaxing day together, and it was exactly what we needed.

I remember sitting in the living room together chatting, and I said “I wonder how you feel like…the day before you go into labor, you know?  I mean, last week I had those few days where I was convinced he was coming at any minute, but now I just feel kind of normal…”

That night we tackled one of the big items on my Before Baby To Do List – our upholstered headboard project.  We have a platform bed with no headboard, and I really wanted to make an upholstered headboard for it before the The Baby arrived so I would have something comfortable to lean against when nursing in bed.  I had started the project a week before, and that night, we completed it – C holding the headboard steady while I sat on the floor with my big belly, attaching it to our bed frame with the power drill.

Feeling great about our lovely day together and having checked the car seat installation and headboard project off the To Do List, we talked to The Baby in my belly, saying, “It’s okay to come out now.  We’re ready for you.”  C, who was facing a long week at work ahead said to him, “Mommy doesn’t want to go work tomorrow.  You can come out tonight if you want to.”  We both laughed, not thinking that he was listening!

Fast forward to 4:30 a.m. on Monday, May 3 – I woke up to pee and felt the incredibly odd sensation of my water breaking as I sat on the toilet.  The Baby was coming!

I woke up C and spoke to the midwife on call at the birth center.  Of course we both assumed I was in for a long day of laboring, being a first time mom, and so she suggested I get some rest and then come in to the birth center for my scheduled 9:40 a.m. appointment.  From there, things happened pretty fast.  Looking back on it now, we realize that I either slept through the early stage of labor, or skipped it all together.  Because there was no leisurely laboring where you go for a stroll around the block or watch a movie.  No sir-ee.  I had one hour of peace from 4:30-5:30 a.m., and then we went straight to really intense, fairly regular contractions.  I puked during one of the first few, and soon they were so painful that none of my laboring positions seemed to help!

C and I were both kind of surprised and confused by how things were going.  We had taken Bradley Method childbirth classes, so we felt pretty prepared for labor, but what was happening didn’t really seem to line up with what we had learned about and expected.  What happened to that early/easy labor?  If it’s already this intense…how bad is it going to get?  C sprung into action, packing snacks and making sure we had everything we needed to take with us to the birth center, and checking on me in between.

Since moving to the ‘burbs, we are about an hour’s drive from the birth center, but it was Monday morning, approaching rush hour time, so we knew traffic would be hell.  At about 8:00 we decided to leave.  That was kind of a gut-wrenching moment for me.  All I wanted to do was stay home.  The last place I wanted to be was in the car, in traffic.  My contractions were very intense by that point, and I was having constant, horrible pain in my lower back.  Still thinking that we had a long day ahead of us (while the contractions were super intense, they weren’t that close together, and still kind of irregular), we dreaded the thought of sitting in rush hour traffic, only to be told at the birth center that I was too early in labor to be admitted.  We considered for a brief moment waiting another hour or two…but then settled on leaving.  (Thank goodness.)

I propped myself between pillows in the front seat of the car and off we went.  What followed was, to say the least, a very challenging hour and a half.  I do not know how C handled rush hour with such calmness and grace, while I groaned and wailed in the seat next to her, but she was a rockstar.  I did all I could to not look out the windows at the traffic.  I was breathing through the contractions, occasionally glancing at the clock on the dash to get an idea as to how far apart they were.  It was really hard to time them, because the super duper back pains made it seem like there was no break in the pain.  I could tell they were getting closer together though.  C held my hand through them when she could (navigating Boston rush hour sometimes requires two hands on the wheel!), and told me again and again that I was doing great and we’d be there soon.

Throughout the drive I was worrying a lot…  I was in so much incredible pain, and I kept thinking…  This isn’t even the worst of it!  How am I going to get through this if this is just the beginning?  I’m a wimp! As time passed I could feel myself moaning and wailing – making sounds that I knew were associated with later stage, active labor.  Making the noise was helpful, so I kept doing it, wondering – could I really be that far along already?  I tried to reassure myself that I was going to be fine, and I could do it – that it would be better once we were out of the car.

By the time we arrived at the birth center (about 9:30/9:45 a.m.), it was hard to stand.  A sweet, friendly midwife who I hadn’t met yet (you get whoever’s on call) greeted us.  She asked how far apart the contractions were, and I explained how it was so hard to tell because the pain felt constant.  Judging by the look on her face, I knew she was thinking, “Her water just broke at 4:30.  The poor thing thinks the baby’s coming any minute, but she’s only just begun.”  She explained that once the water is broken, they try to limit internal checks because of the increased risk of infection, but, “You don’t look like a woman who’s going back home…  So I can check you now if you like.”  I was all, “UM, NO I’M NOT GOING BACK HOME!!! IT’S TOO FAR AWAY!!!,” and explained that we’d check into a local hotel to continue laboring if it really was too soon to be admitted.  I hoisted myself up onto the exam table (no small feat), and she checked me.

“Um, that’s the head,” she said.  ”You’re like NINE centimeters!!”  This is when I started to cry.  The relief!!  What I had thought was just the beginning in the car was actually the hardest part! I wasn’t a wimp, I was a CHAMPION!!!!!  The midwife told us she had to go upstairs to prepare a birthing room for us and we should meet her there.  On her way out the door, she stopped, turned on her heel, looked at me and exclaimed, “By the way, you’re a goddess!”

We took the elevator upstairs to the birthing room and I began the labor dance – trying to find a position that offered some relief.  Mostly I chose sitting on the toilet with pillows behind my back.  The midwife started to fill up the tub (this tub was okay for laboring in, but not delivering in), and I was so excited to get into some warm water.  The Baby had other plans though – by the time the tub was full, it was time to start pushing.

I tried to find a position I liked to push.  Laying on the bed in any way shape or form was a big fat NO – I couldn’t believe how horrible it felt to lay down! Everything in me wanted to be upright – anything else felt wrong.  I remember thinking, Thank god I’m in a birth center where no one’s going to try to keep me laying in bed! I ended up using a birthing stool, kneeling on the floor and then back to the birthing stool, which is where I delivered, leaning back on C for support.

Those first couple of pushes were scary.  I am so glad that we had such a wonderful midwife and were in a place where I felt safe and cared for.  Because that feeling of my body compelling me to push, and the act of actually pushing the first few times HURT.  It HURT A LOT.  And it was a little scary.  But my wife was there supporting me, and the midwife did an amazing job reassuring me and guiding me through the process.  Once I got into the rhythm of pushing, it was much better, and not at all scary.  I was a woman on a mission – GET THE BABY OUT.

And at 11:05 a.m. that is what I did.

Our H came out all purple and puffy and gooey and immediately pooped all over me!  I held him in my arms, leaning back on my wife, and we were a family.  It was incredible.

As I was taking in the amazing sight of this little person I had been growing inside me for nine months, the midwife said something about a lot of bleeding and getting me onto the bed.  She examined me, then called for another midwife for a second opinion who examined me, then called in an OB/GYN from the hospital (which is next door to the birth center – they are affiliated) to take a look as well.  Turns out H was a big guy who came out of my petite body fast (about an hour of pushing), and he’d done some damage on the way out.  It was declared that I had a third degree tear and the OB would need to do some of the stitching due to the difficult nature of the repair. OUCH.  Luckily I had my handsome boy to distract me.  I got him breastfeeding, and C and I just focused on him and each other while I was stitched (which wasn’t at all as bad as I feared, but rather very strange, especially being propped up as I was in front of two midwives, a nurse, and a doctor).

We spent the rest of the afternoon lounging in bed.   The nurse and midwife were ordering lunch from a local place and offered to pick something up for us too – I don’t think I’ve ever enjoyed a sandwich more!  We let the nurse bathe H so we could get a better look at his hair color – which definitely looked a little bit red!  By that night, we were all feeling well and healthy, so we went home at about 9:00 p.m. and got to sleep (well, we didn’t do much sleeping!) in our own bed.

So for those keeping track, we left home at 8:00 a.m., arrived at the birth center at 9:30/9:45 a.m., and H was born at 11:05 a.m., after an hour of pushing…  Had we waited another hour or two to leave the house like we considered?  He could have been born in the car.  Yikes!  But luckily it all worked out fine!

We had a great birth experience at the birth center.  When I was still pregnant, one of the midwives said, “You get the midwife you are meant to have,” referring to the on-call system.  She was right.  I felt so safe and cared for at the birth center, and the midwife who attended the birth was an incredible support and guide for both my wife and I.  We feel very lucky to have given birth in such an environment, and lucky to have avoided the medical interventions we feared the possibility of.  I feel proud of myself and my wife for bringing our son into the world in the way we did.

All in all, we couldn’t have asked for a better welcome for our H:

May 3, 2010 - 8lbs 12 oz

Big House, Big Belly, Big Changes

Tomorrow marks one week since we moved into our new house.  With C still recovering from her head cold, and my big pregnant body feeling more cumbersome by the day, we are moving fairly slowly with the unpacking.  I just keep telling myself – As long as we can get it together before The Baby comes…

I’m hoping that this weekend we’ll be able to get the kitchen, bedroom, and bathroom all unpacked and organized.  We’re partially there on all fronts, and I it would really feel terrific to get each one settled before we start another work week.

Thankfully, I am now only working four days and I am starting a little later to accommodate my new super-long commute from the ‘burbs.  Even my shortened day feels long now.  Carrying myself up the stairs from the subway and walking on my swelling feet from the station are getting to be pretty unpleasant!  I think I have officially entered So. Frickin’. Pregnant. territory.  I am reaching the limits of my maternity clothes.  I can’t get my wedding band on anymore, and my ankles are sadly…nonexistant.  But back to the house…

We have a painter coming by this weekend to give us an estimate.  We’ve painted three rooms ourselves with help from family, and we are just about ready to hire a pro to finish the rest – with so much on our plates, it will be worth every penny.  I’m so ready to see that (as of yet, empty) nursery painted!

So that’s the news for now – settling into the new house, adjusting to the new commute and trials of the third trimester, preparing for The Baby’s arrival…

One step at a time.

Moving in the 3rd Trimonster

The third trimester is no joke.  In many ways, I feel like I’ve reverted to the first trimester, only now I’m carting around a four pound baby who’s squishing my bladder and enjoys doing what feels like wedging his foot into the bottom of my ribcage for extended periods of time.  The exhaustion is back in full force, and I am once again battling waves of nausea.  Sleep is getting difficult, as I wake up several times in the night to roll us over from left to right and back again, and of course the trips to the bathroom.  By the time I get home from work in the evening, all I want to do is collapse on the couch.  As for bedtime?  If it’s any later than 9:00 (even minutes later), the next day is not a pretty sight.  And the tears – oh, the tears!  Crying is now an appropriate response to exhaustion, frustration, anything remotely heart-rending on television…you get the idea.

The middle portion of the day is usually the best.  The Baby is great company with all his wild kicks and movements – sometimes when he really gets going, my belly looks like giant popcorn is popping inside it!  And as long as I eat, eat, eat, (seriously, it’s constant) I feel pretty good for most of the day.  I can’t believe we’re getting so close to the end, and this little boy is going to come out and be our son!  It’s a very exciting time, and I feel so in love with The Baby and excited to meet him.  Still, it’s challenging lugging my big body around, keeping myself fed, and coping with the tiredness, nausea, heartburn, aches and pains…oh, and that whole business about moving into a new house!

It’s been hard to keep up mentally and physically, but now the actual move is done.  This weekend, smack in the middle of three days of pouring rain, we moved into our house.  All I can say is, I’m glad move-in day is just a memory now!  As with every time we’ve moved, and despite our best efforts, we found ourselves with lots still left to pack at the last minute.  My wife being hit with a nasty head cold did not help.  We did manage to do the whole move in one day, thanks in large part to some help from family, and even through the pouring rain, the movers we hired were great.

Would I recommend buying a house and moving while working full-time in the third trimester (and when your spouse is sick)?  No, I would not.  Did we survive?  Yes.

Now begins the slow and steady process of unpacking and getting settled.  It feels great to see our home slowing coming together, knowing that The Baby is coming, and this where we will start our life as a family.

10. 2. 2.

The Baby is due in 10 weeks.
We close on our new house in 2 days.
The movers are coming in 2 weeks.

10 + 2 + 2 = WOAH.

Did I mention that we are also buying a car?  Moving out to the ‘burbs means a need for  a second car, so add car shopping to the To-Do list.  And what a To-Do list it is!!  List making is keeping me sane.  There’s too much going on to not write things down, and there’s nothing that stresses me out more than disorder.  So I have lists.  The list of things left to pack.  The list of things to bring to the house after closing.  The list of calls to make – gas, electric, etc.  The list of things we need to be ready for the The Baby if he comes early. The list of cars for sale in the area to check out.  The lists, the lists, the lists.

My favorite list is the one of the bare essential things we want to get done before the movers come.  Why?  Because it’s short.  Being 7.5 months pregnant and a tad on the hormonal side, I’m working hard to remember my “Enjoy it” axiom and keep myself from getting too stressed.  So I remind myself that there really are only a couple of things we absolutely positively want to be donedonedone by the time the big move happens.  Anything else can wait, and the world as we know it will not end.

10.  2.  2.

Let’s move into a house and have a baby!

Enjoying it

In spite of all the gripes outlined in my last post (what a downer!), I’ve been trying my best to stick to my 2010 sorta-resolution and remember to “enjoy it.”  Yes, there is stress a-plenty, and C is working lots of crazy hours, but the fact that wonderful things are happening in our life remains.

Last Saturday we carved out some time for ourselves to smell the roses.  We had our home inspection in the morning, and left the rest of the day open to spend as we wished.  The inspection went very well, and it was fun to get to spend two hours in the house and really look closely at everything.  From the inspection, we went to Target to pick up some essentials and build our baby registry.  While there, we did a little shopping for The Baby.  We of course have the The Baby Box with some odds and ends for our boy, but with the end of the second trimester approaching, it’s no longer too early to buy him the things he’s going to need.  There happened to be a bunch of adorable clothes on clearance, so we walked away with quite the haul.  Here’s some of the cuteness:

It may seem silly, but it felt like a milestone.  We went shopping for clothes for our son.  For the first time.  The Baby Box is now getting pretty full, and soon The Baby will not only have some things in a box, but a room of his own, and a dresser filled with his clothes.

We closed out our day with a dinner date in the city, at one of our favorite restaurants, something we haven’t had time to do in a while.  We had delicious food, I drank two mocktails, and I ate like a pregnant woman (a three-course meal seems like just enough!).  We took our time and enjoyed each other’s company, knowing that our days of three-course dinner dates in the city are numbered!  It was a really wonderful day.

So while I may feel like we are speeding through the air at a frantic pace lately - I am determined not to forget to take in the view.

House buying, hormones, and big bellies – oh my!

I have a few things going on.  I feel a bit like I’ve been catapulted and am now speeding through the air like a big pregnant rocket, with no landing in sight.

Home-buying is proving to be a full-time job.  I try to tell myself that we are probably in the worst of it now, and in a matter of what?  A couple of weeks?  Things will calm down considerably, and then we’ll be able to just focus on preparing to move.  But it’s hard to listen to myself when I say this, because there are deadlines to be met, reams of paperwork, and surprises at every turn thanks in part to the negligence of other people.  I won’t go into the details because you don’t want to hear them anymore than I want to re-hash them.  Suffice it to say – things are a bit nutty.

And I’m hormonal.

Ah, yes.  Pregnancy hormones.  The other day, C called to say she’d be working late.  I hung up the phone, promptly stubbed my toe, and burst into tears.  Not being able to find something to wear to work seems probable cause for throwing myself dramatically back into bed and pouting for the day (I haven’t given in to this urge – but it’s tempting!).  The hormones seem to make every feeling feel bigger and badder.

And speaking of finding something to wear, I am rapidly outgrowing phase one of my maternity wardrobe.  Luckily, my collection of maternity dresses is still in the game, but my old jeans are done for, and the shirts that seemed big at the beginning are now getting to be too short to cover my growing belly.  And bras? Don’t get me started on bras.  I will not buy more bras because I know my boobs are just going to get bigger (closer to my due date I’ll get some nursing bras), and I already bought some in a cup size larger earlier in the pregnancy, so I’m trying to make do with what I have, adding extenders to give myself more room to breathe.  The extenders are a fairly decent solution, as they keep me from being in actual pain, but I am never fully comfortable.

Jeans are another problem.  I was wearing low-rise, under the belly maternity jeans until recently, but now they just plain don’t fit.  So I figured it was time to switch to the more old school, big stretchy belly-panel jeans.  I tried some on at a maternity store, thought they seemed great, and bought three pairs.  It turns out, they are not great.  Not great at all.  The panel isn’t snug enough to keep them up, so they are constantly sliding down! And I mean constantly.  To make matters more interesting, the stretchy panel on two of the three pairs is light tan (the other is navy), so if the pants slide enough (and they do!) that the panel peeks out from under my shirt, it looks like I am flashing some belly skin…not exactly the look I’m going for at work!  I don’t want to be the pregnant flasher.

So my boobs are always uncomfortable, my pants are always falling, and my shirts are riding up.  I spend all day futzing and twitching and fixing and it is exhausting.  And now The Baby is getting big enough that he is sometimes poking and prodding me in very uncomfortable ways, which means that at moments of the perfect storm, I am uncomfortable everywhere.  And of course the hormones are a-ragin’, making all of this discomfort so much more pleasant to deal with!

I think the most frustrating part of it is feeling like Debbie Downer.  I really do love being pregnant.  I love feeling our little boy kick and dance and karate chop and whatever the hell else he is doing in there (he is really active!).  I love knowing that I am taking care of him and nourishing him so he can grow and thrive.  So my clothes being super uncomfortable and aggravating makes me bummed out about being uncomfortable and aggravated when I’d rather be just enjoying my pregnancy, you know?  I’m pregnant!  That is amazing and wonderful and exciting!  I don’t want to be thinking about my pants this much!!

I just reread that last paragraph… It’s official: I am a crazy, hormonal pregnant lady.  Hear me roar.

What a difference a year makes

The arrival of 2009 intensified my excitement for and anticipation of my wife and I growing our family.  We knew that 2009 was the year.  The year we would start trying to get pregnant, and with a little luck, it could be the year that it worked.  We had planned for a long time to get started in late summer 2009, and finally, 2009 had arrived.  I couldn’t help visions of fast success and daydreams of a baby due in May 2010.  At the same time, I was fighting fears of months and months passing, draining our bank account and our hopes while we tried and tried to conceive with no success.  It was exciting, and it was scary.  We had been living in our apartment for about 6 months, and were already thinking about our next move – homeownership.  We had a lot of saving to do, lots of decisions to make, and lots to look forward to.

And now, here I am at the start of 2010.  Six months pregnant with our baby boy.  The Baby, who is due in May, and is already so very loved.  We have also begun the process of buying our first house – there’s still much to do be done before we have keys in hand, but we are so thrilled.  So much has changed in the last twelve months, and so many changes are yet to come in the next.

2009/2010

It’s that time again – time for reflection and resolutions.  Time to say goodbye to 2009 and welcome 2010.  A new year, a new decade, new adventures to come.

I really can’t complain too much about 2009.  After all, this was the year I got pregnant!  I am so overjoyed to be entering 2010, the year that my wife and I become mommies.  Throughout our Xmas preparations and celebrations, I couldn’t help but think about next year – when we’d be doing it all with our little boy, as a family of three.

There’s so much to look forward to in 2010.  But for now, I’d like to take a look back at all that happened in ’09:

–  I thought about having a baby.  A lot.

 

–  I spent a month being unemployed and found a new job.

–  I discovered the joy of cooking in advance.

–  I saw equal marriage rights become a reality in Iowa, Vermont, Maine, and New Hampshire.  And sadly, watched our victory be taken away in Maine and California.

–  I reflected on my own wonderful marriage.

–  C and I spruced up our back porch and second bedroom.

 

–  We had a whirlwind summer, with a wonderful week spent in Provincetown, a trip to Newport, and a trip to the country to see family.

 

–  I celebrated some of my “New Gay Heroes.”

  

–  My wife and I embarked on trying to get me pregnant, and were incredibly fortunate to have success right away!

–  We found out that we are having a boy, and started taking the first steps to buy our first home.

So what about that resolution?  Well, I’m not too big on formal resolutions, but with all that we have coming in the next 12 months, I want to remember to enjoy it.  Yes, there will be stresses a-plenty as we buy a home, become parents, and adjust to living on one income, but it’s everything that we’ve been working towards and waiting for, and I just want to remember to take a look around enjoy it all whenever I can.

Sincere wishes for a healthy and happy New Year, from my home to yours.

xo,
B

For our next trick: A house

First of all, I’m a little behind on news – we found out a couple of weeks ago that we are having a boy!  It was wonderful to see him on the screen at the ultrasound and walk away with lots of pictures of our handsome boy.  It’s fun now to be able to refer to The Baby by his name, and to know “who’s in there.”

At five and a half months along (22 weeks), I am definitely feeling the itch of wanting to get things ready for The Baby’s arrival!  Unfortunately, there’s only so much I can do, as we plan to move before he comes.  That’s right, The House is a-comin’!  I have talked before about C and I saving for a house, and now, the time to buy is near.  After much research, we have decided on a townhouse (rather than a single family home) in a suburb that isn’t too terribly far from Boston.  There are a couple of townhouses on the market we are very interested in, so we’ll be going to viewings of them very soon.  We’ve been approved by the bank, so now we just need to pick our favorite, make an offer, and cross our fingers!

The idea of moving so close to The Baby’s due date (making an offer in January, we likely won’t be moving until March…The Baby is due May 5th) is certainly daunting, but we really feel it will be worth it to get settled into our new home before he arrives, rather than trying to make room in our apartment for the time being and then house-hunting with an infant.  Plus, we are fortunate to have caring family close by who have already offered their help with the move – the more hands, the better when it  comes to cleaning and painting!

And speaking of painting…  You know I’ve been thinking about The Baby’s room!  Yes, with the townhouse, The Baby will have his very own room, and I will finally get to put all of my nursery decor daydreaming into action! I know you’ll be shocked to hear that I have yet another new idea for the nursery…  Just look at these lovely green nurseries, both from the always fabulous ohdeedoh (click each to go to ohdeedoh and see more pics):

As soon as I showed the second picture to C, it was decided.  That is out paint color.  The Baby’s room will be green.

Now, if we could just get through this whole “buying” and “moving” business…