IT'S A GIRL!!!!!

Introducing our beautiful baby girl, Evelyn Mae Leschke, born at 8:43pm on 2/7/14: 8.0 pounds and 19.0 inches of pure perfection.

It all started on Thursday evening, 2/6/14, when Tom and I checked into Labor & Delivery at Children's Hospital of Wisconsin for induction at 9pm. I have never been so equally excited and terrified in my whole life. We were taken to suite #10 (which had a gorgeous night view of the Milwaukee skyline), where I was instructed to "get comfortable" (ha!), put on my hospital gown, and wait for my assigned nurse. So we got settled into the room, I changed, and then we waited. And waited and waited. It felt like an eternity had passed when finally, 45 minutes later, there was a knock on the door and a friendly face emerged: Jo. I liked her instantly. She was the perfect combination of calm and friendly, and she apologized profusely for the delay. Jo explained that every baby in the unit had decided to be born at the same time, and that she was simultaneously aiding in several deliveries. Despite the chaos, Jo found time to stop by our room every so often to complete portions of our admission and keep us informed. Around 10pm, an hour after our arrival, she finally placed my IV (that I thought hurt, which in retrospect is hilarious) and attached the fetal monitors. But just as she went to get someone to do my cervical check, all nurses and residents were paged into an emergency c-section. Of course.

Again we waited...two hours this time...during which Tom and I found ourselves in a strange state of limbo between pregnancy and parenthood. We felt like we should prepare, but didn't know how. We wanted to sleep, but couldn't close our eyes. Instead we just talked while listening to the soft, steady beat of our precious baby's heart on the monitors. Jo kept apologizing for the delay, but I remember being almost grateful for the extra time alone with him. Time that would be all too limited in the future. Without those extra moments, I would not have learned that Tom intentionally packed his most soft and comfortable sweater so that the baby would feel safe in his arms. And he would not have had the chance to ask me what kind of husband I wanted him to be during labor (serious or jovial, hands-on or hands-off, comforting or encouraging, etc). And I would not have assured him to just be himself...a decision that put him at ease but that I would later come to regret ;)

At midnight, Jo finally returned with a female resident, who confirmed that I was already having sporadic contractions and rejoiced that I was 2cm dilated. She placed cytotec and said she would be back to check me again in 4 hours. Jo turned out the lights and told us to try and get some sleep. But as if anxiety wasn't enough of a barrier, the baby was so active that she actually kicked the monitors off of my belly, forcing Jo to wake me every 5-20 minutes to readjust. Just as the baby had decided to settle down and I was finally drifting off into a deep sleep, the resident turned on a light at 4:30am for my cervix check. To my dismay, I was still only 2cm dilated, although much more effaced. The doctor said one more round of cytotec would do the trick and Jo ordered us back to bed. I fell right back asleep, only to become aware of some serious cramping about an hour later. By 6am, Tom's alarm was going off so that he could shower and leave for his OSCE. That's right, Tom had an OBGYN exam the morning of our baby's birthday. He was unable to reschedule it and our doctor had previously assured us that he would "not miss anything exciting" between the hours of 7 and 8am; but we were the talk of the labor and delivery unit nonetheless: the husband who had to take an obstetrics exam while his wife was in labor.

As luck would have it, my contractions started shortly after Tom left at 6:45am. I remember being nervous that I could count the combined hours of sleep I had gotten the past two nights on one hand, but being excited that things were finally happening. This was it! The pain I had been longing for that dreadful night of false labor. Because of that, I was able to embrace it (for the time being.) My day nurse, Joanna, confirmed that my labor was progressing on its own and I would only need a few drops of pitocin for regulation. Then my parents, who planned on being in the waiting room during Tom's absence, arrived. We talked excitedly until my extraordinary OB, Dr. Menon, showed up just to check in on me before her morning meeting. Because of that meeting, her clinic was cancelled for the day; and instead of taking the time off, she promised to come back to perform my delivery herself (which, due to my unexpected progress, she predicted to be late afternoon/early evening). After she left, my parents went to get coffee so I could rest.

I believe that lasted about 10 minutes. Suddenly my contractions intensified and I felt scared and lonely. I texted my parents to return, who distracted me through the pain until Tom returned around 8:45. I remember feeling so relieved when he finally walked through the door, knowing he would be by my side till the end. The rest is honestly a blur of pain, frustration, labored breathing, gripping the side rails of my hospital bed (so hard I had sore biceps for weeks), violent shaking, and even some tasteful screaming. I had asked for an epidural at 4cm (around 11am) that was tragically misplaced by a suspicious Russian resident, causing only the left side of my body to be numb. Somehow this was worse: knowing how glorious a proper epidural would feel yet still having full-blown painful contractions on the other side. To be fair, I had a good 20 minutes of relief after they turned me onto my right side (so the medicine would drip from left to right), but then the medication wore off altogether, taking me right back to square one. Occasionally the new anesthesia resident on call would come in and give me a "boost" of medication, but it never fully numbed me and always wore off quickly. Afterward, we learned that the epidural was not effectively placed and that I had spent the majority of the day in natural labor.

As a defense mechanism, I remember very little of what happened between 5cm (around 11:30am) and when I started pushing. I know Tom held my hand. I know he tried to get me to watch one of our favorite TV shows on his iPad before realizing my eyes were sealed shut in pain. I know he answered my questions about how the baby looked on the monitors. I know my lovely sisters came in to see me. I know I had "coupling contractions" (where there was slightly more time in between but then 2 right in a row). And, most vividly, I know my nurse changed from Joanna to Wendy. I know this because Wendy came in at exactly 4:30pm and told me I was already 9 - almost 10- cm! (After which I proclaimed my love for her - naturally). I might have doubted her except that my doctor had predicted a late afternoon/early evening delivery and Joanna had been commenting on my fast progress all morning. So I planned on pushing when Dr. Menon arrived at 5:30, but, to my absolute horror, she said, "Well, I wouldn't say you're quite 9cm yet." She was being nice. I would find out later that I was only 7.5cm (an hour after Wendy said I was almost 10cm).

At 6:30pm Dr. Menon checked on me again, saying despite my dilation the baby was still up too high and I would have to "labor down" for another hour. She was being nice again. In fact, I had just reached the point Wendy had proclaimed me to be 2 hours earlier. After 2 hours of believing it was almost time, another hour is the absolute last thing I wanted to hear. It didn't just devastate me. It crushed me. I remember telling Tom (or more like whispering in my feeble state) that I was giving up; that I couldn't do it. I was too exhausted. Too weak. Depleted of all my physical and emotional strength. Tom says I appeared to lose consciousness and started mumbling incoherent prayers. And that's when he pulled out the big guns and went to get my mother.

Lynn Vandenberg came in around 7pm and gave me what must have been the best pep talk in the history of pep talks. Again, I don't remember much - or maybe even any - of the words. I just remember her voice, lots of tears, and the overwhelming feeling that everything was going to be ok. At 7:30pm, Dr. Menon came back in, checked me, and reluctantly agreed to let me start pushing.

She was hesitant because at this point what she had said at 6:30 to make me feel better was now actually true, and, despite being dilated enough to push, the baby had not descended enough on her own. But, sensing that one more setback would put me over the edge, she decided to let me try and push her down myself.

And that's exactly what I did. I pushed like pushing was my job. No...like I had been born to push, and that every moment in my life up till that moment had only occurred to bring me to that godforsaken hospital bed to push. Dr. Menon looked up at me with wide eyes and proclaimed that she had never seen a first time mother push so hard. She asked me if I could teach a class. Good! I had no intention of pushing for three hours. Or worse, getting that far in labor just to need a c-section. I wanted that baby OUT. I remember that my biggest fear about delivery was the pushing. But it turned out to be the easiest part. Not that it was easy, by any means...but at least it felt productive. The pain was actually serving a purpose, and - best of all - the end was in sight! I got into a serious rhythm: breathe, push, breathe, push, ice chips, and repeat. Jo came back to the hospital for another shift and requested to relieve Wendy to see my labor come full circle. Tom,  Jo, and Dr. Menon were my dream team; and with their constant support, encouragement, and positivity, an hour an a half flew by.

Suddenly, Dr. Menon said, "Go time" and within seconds everything changed. Jo ran out of the room and came back with several others. Dr. Menon turned around and put on a gown, surgical mask, and long rubber gloves. People started moving equipment into place. And that's how I knew she was coming. It was scary and exhilarating all at the same time. Dr Menon asked Tom if he wanted to deliver; and while I was adamantly against it during the pregnancy, my post labor delirium had me telling him that he should. And although he had been begging me to let him, when the time came, Tom decided to stay by my side and hold my hand. What a good husband, right? But then, just as Dr. Menon stated that I only had a few more pushes left, he added, "Just think, after this you only have to give birth, like, 5 more times!" There it was. That inevitable comment that would make me regret telling him to 'just be himself'. One of the nurses gasped, "Oh no he didn't!" But, in true Tom fashion, it had lightened the mood....and before I even had time to contemplate the enormity of what was happening, it was time to push again.

I was enveloped by an entourage of strangers cheering, "That's it!","You got this!", and "Go, Mama, go!". Mama. The word hung in the air, ringing in my ears long after it was said. I was about to become a mama. A word has never had such profound meaning, such power. I pushed with every fiber of my being, pushed for that word. Pushed a little too hard. Because when Dr. Menon told me to stop (since the contraction was over), the baby was...wait for it...part in and part out. Excruciating does not even begin to describe the pain, the discomfort, the sheer agony. I didn't just scream. I writhed. Probably not physically, considering the precarious position of the baby....but internally, I writhed. That minute between contractions seemed to last longer than the entire 20+ hours of labor before it. It is that single, solitary minute that still haunts me to this day. The waiting. The inaction. The torture.

An eternity later, when I was finally allowed to start again, I mustered every last ounce of strength in my body and p.u.s.h.e.d. I imagined her being born so vividly in that moment - desperate to avoid another minute in purgatory - that I swear I willed her out. And sure enough, at 8:43pm, our precious baby finally emerged and took her first breath. Tom, who was in charge of announcing her gender, proclaimed, "It's a....wait, what is it?!" You can just about imagine my horror. How did he not know?! Luckily, his confusion was merely the product of the umbilical chord hanging between her legs. He gently brushed it aside and confirmed my suspicion. "It's a girl," he said, his voice cracking on the last word. A girl. A sweet, beautiful, wonderful, baby girl.

They laid her on my chest, and I was instantly overwhelmed by love, awe, and joy. I will never forget those first moments. How she lifted her head and looked me right in the eyes. How I was meeting her for the first time, yet felt that I had known her my whole life. How I simply could not fathom that she was mine; that I had made her. How, for the first time in my life, I truly saw God. Believed in miracles. Experienced magic. It was something truly divine. So euphoric that I almost didn't feel them yanking the placenta out or stitching me up without pain meds. Almost ;)

And when I saw the two of them together, my husband and my daughter, it tested the limits of a heart's capacity for love. He wrapped her up in his big, strong, cozy sweater-wrapped arms; gazed down at her with all of the pride and admiration in the world; and cried. He was hers, too. And she was his. And we...we were a family. And that, my friends, is what life is all about.

40 weeks

BABY LESCHKE IS DUE TODAY!! But it seems, in true Vandenberg/Leschke style, he is going to be fashionably late. After so many weeks of anticipating an early arrival, it’s hard to believe that my due date is here and the baby is not. But I just keep reminding myself that I won’t be pregnant forever (right?!?), and the end is definitely near.

In fact, Baby has officially been given an eviction notice. At my last scheduled prenatal appointment on Friday, my doctor discussed the risks of carrying past my due date (especially considering my family history of preeclampsia and macrosomia) versus the risks/benefits of induction, and decided that she would check my progress again on Tuesday morning to re-evaluate. If my cervix is more “favorable” then (increasing the likelihood of a successful vaginal delivery), she will induce me. If I need a little more time and fetal non-stress testing is normal, she will wait until Thursday night. Plus there’s always the chance that I will go into labor on my own before then! But no matter what happens, Tom and I will be holding our baby boy or girl by Friday of this week.

So Dear Baby,

This is it. We’ve had 40 crazy, unpredictable, magical weeks together, and now our days are numbered. Looking back, it’s astounding to think how far we’ve come and how fast you’ve grown. I know we went through some rough times (the nausea/vomiting of the first trimester, the headaches of the second trimester, the aching/swelling of the third trimester – to mention a few), but I have a secret to tell you: it was all worth it. That’s right, no matter how horribly miserable I was at any point in time during this pregnancy (and believe you me, there were some pretty low points), I wouldn’t go back and change a single thing. Because deep down I know that every moment I spent bent over the toilet; every hormonal, irrational outburst; every blinding headache; every kick in the bladder or punch in the ribs; and every ache, pain, or discomfort; has led to you. You, a perfect little combination of your father and I. A fully developed newborn baby. A miracle of God.

And although part of me wants to be selfish and carry you with me forever, it’s time to share you with the rest of the world. I know I will miss feeling your aerobics, your hiccups, your cravings, your warmth. And you will probably miss my shelter, my protection, my heat, my heartbeat. But out here I will get to hold you and kiss you, look into your eyes, and see your sweet face. Out here, you will get to meet your Daddy, who has been patiently waiting for his turn to know you like I do.  And the world might be a scary place sometimes, but we will comfort you, protect you, guide you, and love you every single day for the rest of our lives.

You are our firstborn. You are the beginning of our family. You will make us a mother and a father. We promise to honor those roles and be the very best parents we can be for you. So come on out and join us. Come meet all the people who already adore you. Come be showered with affection. Come greet the world and the endless possibilities it holds for you. Come start this new chapter in our lives. Because while the conclusion of this pregnancy feels like the end of something, you and I know better, Baby. It’s really just the beginning. ♥

39 weeks

I’m a Braxton Hicks machine. In fact, on Tuesday night, I had 6 hours of false labor. That’s right: 6 HOURS. My contractions started around 2pm at 13 minutes apart and gradually got longer and closer together. When I left work around 4pm, they were almost 5 minutes apart, so I had texted Tom to forewarn him that something might be happening. By the time I got home, the father-to-be had our hospital bags waiting at the door, our camera and video camera charged, the car seat and base ready to go, and was wearing the biggest smile I have ever seen.

Tom timed my contractions while I was in the shower, made me a light dinner, and took me for a walk in the garage (because, lets face it, it was essentially Antarctica outside). He even called the nurse for me when my contractions were under 5 minutes apart and over a minute long for several hours in a row. After getting the basic information from Tom, the nurse asked me to rate my pain on a scale from 1-10. I gave it a 2 to 3. She said what I had been fearing the whole night: it should hurt more! So while I technically fit the criteria for a trip to labor & delivery, she told me to stay home until/unless the contractions increased in severity, to the point where I was “huffing and puffing.” Sure enough, around 7pm the contractions started dissipating; by 8pm they were gone. No Big Bad Wolf. No trip to the hospital. No Baby.

While we went to bed seriously disappointed that night, it turned out to be good preparation for the Real Thing. Tom figured out what to grab for the hospital, I got my fears and anxiety about going into labor out of the way, and we practiced going through the motions of the latent stage. Now when it’s really “that time,” we’ll know exactly what to do. The trouble is that for a good 6 hours, we convinced ourselves we were about to finally meet our son or daughter…and that has made the waiting even harder.

But hopefully we just have 1 week left to go! After so many months of feeling like I’d never make it this far, it’s hard to believe we’re really only about 7 days away from being parents. At my prenatal checkup this week, my doctor announced that I was slightly more effaced, a little over 1 cm dilated, and that Baby is almost 8lbs already. She thinks, according to my progress and description of symptoms, that “labor is close.” Boy, do I hope she’s right!

We can’t wait to meet you, Little Leschke!!!

38 weeks

 

Preeclampsia scare! I hadn’t had any symptoms until Thursday morning when I couldn’t comfortably put on my wedding rings or find shoes that fit my puffy feet. I didn’t think much of the unexpected swelling until I texted my sister, Sarah, who advised me to pack a hospital bag in preparation for my prenatal appointment the next day! Apparently sudden edema is a sign of high blood pressure; and if I were to have that coupled with proteinuria at this point in the pregnancy, they would likely induce labor. Terrified, especially considering my significant family history of preeclampsia, I did what I was told, packed a bag, and anxiously awaited my checkup the following day.

Then, of course, there was a slight malfunction with the blood pressure machine at the hospital that morning, and my first reading came out incredibly high. The second attempt was also high in comparison to my baseline, but still within normal range. The nurse wasn’t concerned, but had me leave a urine sample to ease my worried mind. Sure enough: negative for protein! Whew. My doctor assured me that my amount of swelling was typical and I was still well within the confines of a “normal pregnancy.” But for my own sanity, she told me I could call her if I should notice any other signs of preeclampsia (severe or persistent headache, blurred vision, nausea, light sensitivity, etc.) before my next checkup.

Otherwise, all is well! The doctor estimated Baby to be about 7 pounds and he is likely over 19 ½ inches long. My cervical exam yielded similar results to last week, but the doctor very clearly felt the baby’s skull this time! Baby is getting into birthing position now that his organs have matured and are prepared for life outside the womb. At the end of the visit, my doctor said she would either see me at my appointment next week or in labor and delivery before that!

Since Baby could truly arrive any day now, this past weekend was officially dubbed the Great Baby Preparation of 2014. But before we started working, Tom surprised me with a dinner date to Maxie’s on Friday night – just in case it was our last chance to have a spontaneous, romantic evening before the baby is born. What a sweetheart. On Saturday we called in reinforcements (aka: my parents), and the rest of the weekend was a blur of shopping, baby gear washing, hospital bag packing, cleaning, and nursery organizing. It was pretty intense, but we made some serious progress. And while there is still a little cleaning and organizing left to do, we’re finally in a place where I will feel prepared instead of panicked when I go into labor. What a huge relief!

Hear that, Baby? We’re ready when you are!

37 weeks

Whoa, mama! Full term and definitely feeling it.  Baby is about 6 ½ pounds, over 19 inches long, and starting to do some damage! Turns out I have developed something called Symphysis Pubis Dysfunction (SPD), which is basically a misalignment of the pelvis that causes acute pain when shifting positions. Not so bad, right? Except that shifting positions occurs when doing – oh yeah – just about everything. Walking, lifting, carrying, sitting down, standing up, bending over, stepping…you name it, it hurts.

On the bright side, I may not have to deal with this condition for very long. I had the first of my now weekly prenatal appointments on Friday and learned that I am already 50% effaced and almost 1 cm dilated…YIKES! I obviously knew this would happen eventually, but had no idea it would be so soon! My doctor did say that it’s common for effacement/dilation to begin early in first pregnancies, but that – and I quote – “things are definitely happening!” Part of me wanted to laugh, part of me wanted to cry, and part of me wanted to scream, “Make it stop!” In reality, I think I just sat there with my mouth wide open like a bewildered idiot.

Other than that, my blood pressure and weight gain are still good and – surprise! – I am finally measuring on target again at 37 weeks. My doctor said that perhaps she and I are wrong, the fetal growth ultrasound is right, and our baby will be normal-sized. HA! I can only hope. She also confirmed that what I have been feeling lately are indeed Braxton Hicks contractions…yet another sign that my body is preparing for delivery. All this birthing talk has brought on a series of mixed emotions – shocker, I know – ranging from anxiety (that the baby will come before we’re ready) to excitement (that we will get to hold and kiss her soon!) to reluctance (that I will have to let her go). That’s right – it took physical signs of labor for me to realize that although I desperately want to feel normal again, there is a definite part of me that will miss feeling her warmth and life inside of me after she’s gone.

 
Mushiness aside, Little Leschke made a haul with TWO baby showers this week! My thoughtful and generous coworkers threw me a surprise shower at work on Wednesday, complete with adorable decorations, chocolate raspberry cake, sparkling juice, red velvet cheesecake brownies, a prediction game (for Baby’s birthday, gender, and weight), and the most unique and creative gift I’ve ever seen: a diaper bathtub! The tub was made of diapers, the faucet was rolled up washcloths, the bubbles were cotton balls, and it was filled with bath-related gifts (a towel, body wash, shampoo, lotion, rubber duckies, bubble bath, etc.) as well as a picture of the combined present they got me: our Chicco hook-on high chair! A huge thanks to everyone at MCW who contributed to making the day so special.

And on Saturday, Tom and I made our last childless trip back to Oshkosh for my Leschke family/friends baby shower! My wonderful mother-in-law hosted this lovely event at their home, where we mingled over delicious hors d’oeuvres and sherbet punch, ate a gourmet catered lunch, opened an abundance of presents, played a few games, and indulged in my favorite La Sure’s chocolate chocolate-chip cake with butter cream frosting (yum!). Julie even had each guest write me a card with advice on parenthood and suggestions for keeping the love alive in our marriage after baby. We got some truly insightful counsel along with some fabulous gifts, and are so grateful for everyone’s kindness and generosity!

Then yesterday, Tom and I had brunch with my parents to celebrate my dad’s birthday (Happy Birthday, Papa!!) before heading home to Milwaukee, where we will stay put now until D-day. After unloading the car, we unpacked all the baby gifts we've acquired over the past several months, took off packaging/tags, and separated items into categories on the floor of the nursery (clothes, bath time supplies, toys, diaper changing gear, books, etc.) It’s not much, but it’s a good start to the major organizing/cleaning process that’s about to ensue. I think it’s safe to say the nesting instinct has officially set in :)

36 weeks

HAPPY NEW YEAR! Can’t believe it’s finally 2014 – the year our baby will be born! It’s crazy to think how far we’ve come. And not just since last May when we found out we were starting a family, but since May 2005 when we went on our very first date to junior prom. Tom and I spent the New Year holiday (and the final days of our last vacation together before Baby) at home in Milwaukee, reminiscing about not only the previous year, but the past 8 ½ years; and how each and every one of them has led us to where we are today. 

2005: Our First Date

2006: High School Graduation

2007: Exchange of Promise Rings

2008: Long Distance Relationship

2009: Transfer to Butler University

2010: Our Engagement

2011: Our Wedding

2012: Settling Down in Milwaukee

2013: Pregnant with Baby #1

Sometimes life is so hectic and we are so focused on where we’re going that we forget to take time to remember the past and truly appreciate the present. That’s why Tom and I decided to head home after NYE dinner this year – just the two of us – to share dessert, drink sparkling cider, and toast not only to the end of another year, but to the end of an era. The end of “just us.” Being the emotional basket case that I am lately, there was an abundance of both laughter and tears as we looked through old photographs, shared memories, and discussed our imminent transition into parenthood. As hard as it is to let go of the life we have together now – the only life we have ever known – we know that what is waiting for us next will bring us even more happiness than we can currently fathom. And that while we will always cherish these years we’ve had together as a couple, we will soon be unable to imagine life without our sweet little bundle of joy.

That bundle is currently busy packing on the pounds, by the way, gaining at least an ounce every day! He is now about 6 pounds and over 18 ½ inches long. He’s in the process of shedding the fluffy layer of hair that has been covering his body and the waxy vernix that’s been protecting his skin from amniotic fluid. In one short week, Baby will be considered full term (or “early full term” according to the new national guidelines). In preparation, Tom and I have been busy assembling baby equipment (pack ‘n play, bouncer, stroller, car seat, etc.), and each time marvel at the thought of who will be occupying them in just one month.

We can’t wait to know you, Baby Leschke. So as hard as it was to say goodbye to 2013 – the last year of “just us” – we are happy to welcome this new year and the new chapter it will bring. What you will bring. Because the blessed day our twosome becomes three, we know you will enrich our lives in a way we never dreamed possible. It’s like the old adage goes: the best is yet to come.

35 weeks

Tom and I are in the midst of a glorious 9-day vacation from school and work (respectively), and have been very busy celebrating! 

First off, MERRY CHRISTMAS!! Tom and I spent the opening four days of our winter break observing this most magical and sacred holiday with our families and relatives. First we drove to Wautoma to spend a couple of days at the Leschke family cottage, where we made chocolate-covered pretzels, ate prime rib, played ping pong and ice hockey, baked cookies, and opened presents. Grandma and Grandpa even honored Baby Leschke’s “first Christmas” with a bag full of goodies just for her.

 

Then we drove from Wautoma to Milwaukee to have our annual Christmas day gathering with the Lyonses, where we visited with our relatives, ate ham, opened gifts, and played trivia. That night we headed back to Oshkosh to meet up with my sister’s family and snuggle our nieces and nephew before exchanging presents the following morning. All the kiddos were spoiled (per usual) including Little Leschke this year, who got a pack ‘n play, toys, books, and even her first gift from “Santa.” That day we headed to Little Chute to conclude our Christmas celebrations with a few of the Vandenbergs, who hadn’t all been together in quite some time. It was a lovely reunion complete with delicious hors d'oeuvres, great conversation, sledding for the little ones, and a commemorative photo at the end.  

What better way to honor the birth of Jesus than to reconnect with loved ones, bring joy to the children in our lives, and give thanks for our many blessings. God is good!

Next, we spent the weekend celebrating my mom’s birthday (Happy Birthday, Mimi!!) and the marriage of two of our best friends, Lauren Meidl and John Bushman. We were privileged to be a part of their wedding party and share in their special day. It was a beautiful winter affair complete with glistening snow, red/black/silver attire, and of course lots of “bling” to complement the sparkling bride…not to mention tons of tears from a certain 8.5 month pregnant bridesmaid ;) It was a wonderful weekend for reuniting with old friends, celebrating love, and delighting in one of the greatest things in life: marriage. Congratulations, Mr. & Mrs. Bushman!

Today our baby is 35 weeks gestation – only 35 days to go! While it feels good to be in the home stretch emotionally, it doesn’t feel so good physically. I’m not supposed to sleep on my back, but I can no longer sleep on one side for too long before the weight of my ginormous belly makes my hip ache and forces me to turn over; which in turn shifts the baby onto my bladder and makes me have to pee; which in turn wakes me up for at least an hour before falling back asleep and restarting the whole vicious cycle. Plus the hip and back aches that used to appear only after standing or walking for long periods of time are now constant, dull reminders that I'm almost 20 pounds heavier than usual. Sigh.

But I can’t complain, because out of the two of us, I’m sure Baby is much more uncomfortable than I am. She’s running out of room in there now that she’s over 

5 ½ pounds and 18 inches long (about the size of a honeydew melon); and while she’s still kicking, jabbing, and stretching away, she no longer has room to do the body rolls and somersaults she’s used to. On the bright side, Baby now has fully developed kidneys and a functioning liver! She has officially completed her fundamental physical development and will now be spending the upcoming weeks gaining weight. Just don’t tell that to my hips and back…