Additionally, Greg's absence has meant that unlike many of our currently expecting friends, the nursery is about as prepared as Donald Trump is for presidency. See proof below:
I am happy to report that despite my heavy mouth breathing and ability to take two to three naps per day - we made some major headway! Just look at how happy Greg looks about it all below. All that needs to still happen is hanging curtains, a few decor pieces, and, oh, maybe get a mattress for the crib. I hear those are important/necessary. Pictures of the finished product coming in the next post (I hope!).
Nurse: Do you have any questions?
Greg: Will the baby stay in the room with us?
Greg: What's the security like here?
Greg: Do you believe in skin to skin as soon as the baby is born?
Greg: How much wood would a woodchuck chuck if a woodchuck could chuck wood?
Greg: Where can I shower?
Nurse: Excuse me?
Me: Sorry, he's a germaphobe.
While we were at it, we also registered for a child birth class! The nurse told us that this is "more for the dads than the moms". I'm hoping this means they teach anti-fainting strategies and/or what the mother should do when the father does, in fact, faint. The funny thing is that the class begins on March 9th and ends the day after my due date. Again, we're really being timely about this whole ordeal. Let's hope we make it through all of the classes. By that, I don't mean that we make it through all of the classes before the baby is born. I mean I hope we make it all four weeks without me getting us kicked out for laughing every time the instructor says "vagina". Parenthood: I'm ready for it.
I also would like to remind you that these gentlemen just spent close to seven months in intensive combat infantry training, yet were completely oblivious to this gaggle of geniuses hiding out, waiting for them. You would think we were horribly mistaken to try to pull off such a task, but it turns out we're a little more tactical than we thought. We caught them totally by surprise and would have completely soaked them if we didn't feel bad when they started screaming like huge babies. Fine - we didn't feel bad - we just ran out of water. One even shouted, "Wait Casey, aren't you PREGNANT? How are you RUNNING?" - as if that was really going to deter me. Which, thinking about it now, is a completely valid point because I literally have not run during this entire pregnancy - except for two extremely justified times when I thought I heard an ice cream truck. Regardless, it was a lot of fun and made us a feel a bit better about not getting to join them for their night out.
Below is Greg's motley crew. You can easily see Greg below because his hands are crossed like some type of mob boss with his mafia surrounding him. All that's missing is a gold chain and a Brooklyn accent. All joking aside, I am so proud of all these guys have accomplished and I will credit 80% of their success to the rice krispie treats I sent with Greg on a few occasions. If you're sensing a theme in my life, you'd be correct (it's all about me).
Symptoms: A lot of people keep asking me how I'm feeling - and my answer is pretty freaking awesome. Still dealing with the heartburn here or there, but sleeping has been a breeze and I'm not really feeling the dreaded "get this baby out of me NOW" urges just yet. I'll let you know how I feel if we pass my due date without any signs of labor, however.
Total weight gain: We're officially at about 25 pounds. You might wonder why I share this so publicly but let me tell you, I've WORKED for this 25 pounds. And I don't mean the energy I've expelled opening those tricky Dorito bags. Never in my life did I think that gaining weight would be arduous. I thought, I love ice cream, I love cheese, I love onion rings - this is simple. But when you have lovely pregnancy nausea that lingers for 9 months, it makes things a bit tricky. Regardless, I was pretty pleased at my latest weigh in. I will attribute it to the following category.
Cravings: I have graduated from M&M ice cream sandwiches and moved on to soft serve vanilla ice cream. I am consistently eating a croissant for breakfast every morning. My baby will probably come out rocking a mustache, wearing a beret, and smoking a cigarette.
Stretch Marks: My stomach still remains free of any stretch marks but the same can't be said for my ass. I debated including that detail, but I think we're all on pretty close terms right now. Good thing my ass tends to be covered the majority (please note I did say majority) of my life - I'll consider this a pregnancy win.
Emotionally: Don't worry, I'm not about to go all soft on you guys. I'll save that for the next post (ohh did you like that teaser?!). However I will say that I'm feeling mostly confident, with small doses of "holy shit" and "WTF were we thinking", here and there. The other night, we made the mistake of putting on the documentary, "The Business of Being Born", and after twenty minutes of fear-mongering we promptly shut it off. It's not that we don't want to be educated or prepared, it's that we prefer to trust the process, our doctors, and our intuition. I also tried to read a childbirth book but once the woman began recounting her days of living in a tree house with an Italian man in Vermont, she lost me. So I gave up (but not before screen-shotting it and sending it to my dear pal Jen). As my life theory goes - to each his friggin' own!
That's all I got - until next time!