Little,
You may want to get used to your momma & daddyO navigating the mast of your life until you show the maturity and humor to take over the helm amidst these unpredictable waters interdependently…and we now begin the process of letting go.
a mini gr[attitude] PSA
if i’m grouchy…
feed me.
if i’m tired…
let me sleep.
if i’m self-centered & ask you to do things for me (i.e., feed me or let me sleep…)
smack me.
thank you.
A brief, albeit (significantly) delayed Welcome.
You were born.
5.5 mos ago.
Um. Surprise!
You were cut right out of me. I was split down the middle like a rigged interweb pole.
You looked like this (warning…graphic pic below taken while you were half water-dwelling mammal, half air-breathing awesomeness)
…
…
…
[shut it. I warned you.]
Your daddyO said this, “we have a son!”
And now, since I can’t give myself a homemade tummy tuck, I’m giving the wrinkles of this blog a minor face lift.
I can only dedicate mere microscopic moments to this waning yet reigning world of blogdom. And yes, while I am your momma, I am much more than just that. Therefore, “Among Other Things…in just a minute” found its birth a mere 5.5mos after you found yours.
Week 37 | the “birth plan”, an oxymoron
We are settling into the notion that you are now what the docs consider “full term”, sweet child of ours. With that said, we’re also realizing that we are what others more practically may report as (insert appropriately placed air-quotes), “ready”.
Part of this groundwork process is getting “the bag” prepared – contents to include comfy, non-pre-preggo clothes (so that momma doesn’t go postal trying to fit in pre-pregnancy jeans upon leaving the hospital), iPhone doc & speakers (so daddy-O doesn’t go neurotic remembering how to breathe), and other odds & ends that seem important now but will likely have no bearing on whether or not you come out a human.
Another recommendation among the plethora o’ suggestions via the mouths of those who find entitlement to provide their opinion (i.e., any woman who has had the opportunity of growing an miniature earthling in a personalized abdominal petri dish or any person who has a heartbeat for that matter) is to have a copy of the “birth plan” in said bag. This is a list of considerations and requests that the birthing family has for the dreamily perfect delivery. We have created such a plan, and since your momma has some issues, instead of only one copy, we have 15…just in case the entire first string of Oregon Ducks choose to enter the birthing room.
Baby Stegall’s BIRTH PLAN
steeglette’s birth plan (.pdf)
1. DADDY-O STATES THE GENDER
When baby Stegall goes from water mammal to air-breathing and the gender is apparent for the world to see…please, fight the urge to announce the gender, show the baby to Mark (the daddy-O) and let him be the one to tell Cathi (the momma) if it is a boy or girl Stegall.
2. FOR YOUR EYES ONLY
Please, no person without a medical license (MD, RN, etc) should be allowed past Cathi’s waist during delivery.
3. CALLING THE SHOTS
When the window of opportunity approaches for an epidural, please let Cathi know well in advance in order for momma & daddy-O to make an educated and rational decision not based on heroism (or idiocy for that matter).
4. KEEPIN’ IT CLEAN
As much as we want to love and hug on the kiddo once it finally arrives, please wipe it down prior to placing it on momma’s tummy – I’d rather have my first interaction with baby Stegall to be one free of ick and full of happiness.
Other:
On the off chance that baby Stegall chooses to make face-time via C-section, please adhere to birth plan #1…this is VERY important to us.
All other decisions are open for negotiation for the best interest of baby & family.
Well, that’s that. If we don’t see your face before next Friday, the doc is going to go in there and fetch it. So, ready or not, steeglette…here we come!
- Baking time: 37wks
- cravings: an occasional mcD’s cheeseburger…it may be b/c of the onions…which seems ironic, since that has been a previous aversion in this chronicle of ours
- aversions: toothpaste – I’m still barfing about x2/wk…and most of the time it’s while brushing my teeth. So, Listerine and mentos gum have become my in lieu of routine, when Crest just won’t do. So know how much your daddy-O loves me b/c he still kisses this not-so-little mrs.
- added inches to the precious waistline: 16…Child! 16 inches! Alright, so, it may be less of your fault and more to blame on the aforementioned cravings.
- Lessons learned: Lie to me.
I don’t care if it’s the truth or not…I love hearing things like “you’re so cute”, “you’re all belly”, “you’re going to be awesome parents”, “here have another slushie”.
Week 35 | initiating the descent
Well, steeglette of ours, after today’s appt, we now know you’ve started the long and lovely journey down the chute (momma’s beginning to ripen and dilated at 1). I was quite confident this was approaching, since every time I sneeze, it feels like you’re going to come flopping out like a greased guppy, which in itself would be a momentous occasion. This fear of your floppage also has initiated “the waddle”. This, my sweet one is the humble walk of a woman who is in the family way and afraid to pee in public. It’s sexy, I know.
In other news, your daddy-O slept on the couch last night due to my “heavy breathing”/code word for angel breath, I’m sure.
Oh, and we found out you’re approximately 7lbs 3oz today; although the accuracy can go at least a pound IN EITHER DIRECTION – child, if you come out the size of a teenager, I’m returning your for a new bike. And I don’t even like bikes.
- Baking time: 35wks
- cravings: nada. I still crave fruit…but there currently isn’t anything that would make me do a cartwheel in a tutu and flip flops in the sand. And I’m completely ok with that.
- aversions: anything that can or may induce heartburn. They say that momma’s w/ heartburn have kids w/ lots of hair. Sorry to say, steeglette, you’re a gorilla.
- added inches to the precious waistline: we’re still hovering around 14.5”, but we’ve begun the droppage, hence the looks of pity and hilarious comments about “popping”…which honestly do make me laugh – my active imagination goes places with the idea that I could deflate with the press of my now outie belly button.
- Lessons learned: “There are few greater miraculous moments than the first time you see that baby”…courtesy of our gas station attendant.
see you soon!
Week 31.5 | classic wondering through my mental drippings
Hello my ninja child. I’ve been trying to imagine what life is like in that little personal utopian lagoon of yours.
Therefore, consider yourself privy to my most recent mental drippings…
I wonder…if you’ve had secret in utero lessons from Mr. Miyagi, b/c your kickboxing skills can make this momma wince as though there was a sick substitution from holding a popsicle to licking a high-voltage battery. Well done, grasshopper.
I wonder…what do you experience when momma tosses her proverbial (or not) cookies? Are you enjoying the roller coaster or does the sound of the rapidly stampeding exit of granola & yogurt make you want reach your hand through my belly button and flip me the bird?
I wonder…what about Braxton hicks? While I’m feeling as though I’m taking my very last earthly breath and holding onto my solid marbled ball of a stomach, are you getting your face smashed like a squirrel’s nuts stuck in a vice grip?
I wonder…
The most recent stats for the books:
- Baking time: 31.5wks
- cravings: beef. I’m not exactly sure where that came from or how long it will stay. But this is an unexpected yet welcome addition to my craving repertoire.
- aversions: none. Honestly, the only thing that has been causing my morning sickness has been sleepless nights. This past week, I had a night w/ only 1hr of sleep…enter a day with 3, yes THREE, visits from the puke pixie. Stupid pixie. Bite me.
- added inches to the precious waistline: 14.5″ – I’m not going there.
- Lessons learned: “pregnancy note: sleep now, and you will never hold your pee”.
Week 28 | What’s love got to do w/ it?
Hey kiddo, so we found out today that you are officially a human. Previous ultrasounds had us quite speculative. You had the tracings of either an alien, an ant, or a turtle…but it was confirmed at the dr’s today…Hey Geppetto, we’re having a real kiddo!
- Baking time: 28wks
- cravings: Fruit. All things fruit. Your Neena made the most delectable fruit salad when we visited her house last week…I believe I may have turned you into a strawberry temporarily, but no worries. You’re normal. I think.
- aversions: airplanes. After a 12.5hr day flying from the atlantic ocean to the pacific, if anyone so happens to even MENTION the floating leaded wasteland, I’ll teach them why pregnant women shouldn’t carry guns.
- added inches to the precious waistline: 14″ – which I understand to be the same length as you are right now, so I’m a little less bitter knowing that nugget of truth. A little.
- Lessons learned: “The moments may go by slowly but the years, they fly!”
Week 25 | what is…and what’s to come
A lack of updates should allude that there has been a lack of time. Let me help you interpret this a bit more effectively: Lack of energy. ENERGY, little steeglette. Good heavens. I believe a hibernating sloth at nap time watching Ross the Painting guy on PBS has a larger capacity of stamina than this round woman (aka, your momma) does.
So, I’ve been enlightened recently that your daddy-O and my current habits are in for a quote-rude-awakening come D-day.
This little piggy went to the market: You see…today, I went grocery shopping – the first time in almost 4wks. We have found a way to eat, no worries…trust me. I can find food faster than a pre-pubescent girl finds teen spirit. Apparently, we’ll have to make more regular stops at the so-called market once you’re air-breathing.
Wash me white as oh-no: Currently, the Stegall’s laundry day is every 7 days. We predict this by the amount of undershirts your Daddy-O has left and our rather glorious fondness and affinity for clean-sheet day. Oh how we love everything encapsulated by the beautiful effervescence of clean-sheet day.
Open eyes on Saturday morning is equivalent to pure blasphemy: I do not believe I need to embellish. Child, we will need to work very hard at teaching you the importance of Saturday-Sleep-In-Day. This is a weekly holiday we as a family MUST observe.
Otherwise, we’ll be just fine. Just fine. No apprehensively shaken voice here. We’ll be fine.
So, week 25 holds the following numbers for our time of growth:
- Baking time: 25wks
- cravings: cake. Just ask your auntie tammy…this is fierce, steeglette. Banana bread w/ pineapple is my healthy concept of cake. And in that instance, this is not a perversion, but it is a rather tasty embellishment.
- aversions: onions. this has not changed from prior weeks. I will stand by this quite strongly.
- added inches to the precious waistline: 13″ – and that, my little lamb, is the devil’s number.
- Lessons learned: rib pain is not synonymous to hunger pangs for bbq. no. it is not.
week 22.2 | a pregnancy PSA…
I’m tired [shocker]. So, this here is the best you’re gonna get. Take it or leave it, but it’s not a Letterman top 10 for certain…
- Baking time: 22wks
- cravings: nearly gone…heartburn has replaced cravings – no complaints here, my beee-hind is quite appreciative.
- aversions: onions. on my sandwich OR yours.
Pregnancy PSA: Secondary bad breath can kill, people. - added inches to the precious waistline: 11.5″ – how does that even happen?
- Lessons learned: registering is a necessary evil
week 22 | our sleepy alien
hello steeglette – alrighty, so honesty prevails, and this momma says that these 3D ultrasounds still freak me out quite a bit. You still have the turtle-without-a-shell manifestation about you. Nevertheless, we love you, our sleepy little alien!
we also got a more accurate date of appearance…looks like you have yet another week added to your percolation time. You’re 22wks and due to be air breathing June 5…this is per the specialists, and since they’re special, I believe them.
