Waiting for the Kid to Come Out

"Waiting for the Kid to Come Out" is a song by my favorite band (Spoon, of course) and I thoroughly enjoyed listening to it these last nine months. Now, the irony is less amusing. Because we're now four days past our due date, and still, no kid.

I've gotten a pedicure with a massaging foot rub. A body massage with focused effort on all the pressure points known to induce labor. I've added sriracha to just about everything. Eaten spicy Mexican. And very spicy Indian. It's done a number on Jeremy's stomach, but not mine. I've snacked on fresh pineapple, and I've sipped raspberry leaf tea. I've been walking about five miles a day for the past few weeks, and I've even tried jumping jacks and galloping  I've been taking evening primrose oil and yes, we've even had sexytime. Quite a few times, in fact.

But we're still waiting for the kid to come out.

I'm feeling OK today. I've made it through a couple of meltdowns. Make that, we've made it through said meltdowns. Jeremy really is the most understanding, compassionate, supportive person I have ever known. I'm anxious. And scared, and frustrated. But also excited and grateful to be going through it with Jeremy holding my hand. (And rubbing my back and talking to my belly.)

So we'll just keep on waiting -- as patiently as possible -- for this kid to come out.

An Overdue Deliverable

I'm not one to miss a "deliverable" as we often call it at work. But I don't think today's deliverable - Peanut - is going to happen. No, not today. And no amount of overtime will really change things. I'm no longer in charge, and this kid is proving it.

I once sent my aunt and uncle a card that said, "If you're not embarrassing your kids, you're not having nearly enough fun in life." Well, just because this kid is late, doesn't mean I have to miss out on any fun in being a parent!

So, to keep me busy while I suffer through this overdue deliverable, I have been crocheting. So far, I have made both an elephant and a giraffe costume for Peanut. And I plan to make him or her wear both outfits, even if he or she doesn't arrive in time for Halloween. 

Crocheted Elephant Costume

Crocheted Giraffe Costume

With each overdue date, I'm sure that more crazy crochet concoctions will be developed. So for this kid's sake, I hope he or she arrives soon.

Baby is Coming

I am starting to get the feeling that the baby has decided to stay in utero until I finish this blog. Seriously - it has to be the reason. I mean, everything else is done. We finished the nursery, found a pediatrician, hired a doula, deep-cleaned the apartment (three times), installed the car seat, packed our hospital bag, have a labor snack pack ready in the fridge/freezer, and have a killer playlist in both phones to sooth labor and delivery. We've also tried about every labor induction trick in the book, aside from castor oil. Still, nothing. Fine, I'll finish the blog.

I started this post during our trip to Cabo four months ago. It's crazy how much has changed since then...

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23-Jun, San Jose del Cabo, Mexico

I think it sounded something like this: “Holy shit, holy shit, I felt the baby kick!!" I really truly undoubtedly felt it. I thought (or wished) that I really felt it yesterday, but I know for scientific fact that I felt it today. Before I get any sappier, let me give you some context.

Nicole and I are on our Babymoon in beautiful Cabo, Mexico. Yes, a babymoon. For those rolling your eyes, likely without offspring, I’ll explain. A babymoon is described in baby books (yes, I’m reading the daddy books) as more or less your last vacation ever. It’s the last chance to take a break between the first trimester nausea and third trimester growth spurt to enjoy life with a full night’s sleep and spontaneous sexy time.

I did good: I planned the whole vacation, from the amazing hotel (seriously, it’s the nicest resort I’ve ever stayed in – thanks LivingSocial), airline tickets, and other fun-in-the-sun activities. But back to the important part. Mark your calendars: today I felt my baby move inside Nicole's belly. It is really an amazing feeling. Just a little flick, a tiny bump, just enough so that you know there's a human being inside there. I won't forget this day. Baby is coming.

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Like I said, a lot has changed since then. Cabo wasn't actually our last trip/adventure ever. Since then, we've both been to Philly and Denver, Nicole has been to South Africa, and I've been to Thousand Oaks at least a thousand times. And it definitely wasn't the last time I felt the baby move. In fact, I don't think the baby has taken a break since. And although I love feeling the constant karate kicks, hiccups, and little earthquakes that baby creates inside of Nicole, I would give that up in a second to hold him/her on the outside. So, Baby, come out and join our adventure!

Trying on the Baby Bjorn

Installing the Car Seat

There. I'm done. Time to make an appearance, Baby Bolton!

39 Weeks and Counting (Down)

Well, we've made it through another week of pregnancy. And I'm so big I do not know how I'm ever going to make it another week. Or more. We're running out of things to do, and patience is not one of my best character traits. Jeremy has been keeping himself entertained with a new camera. You can tell from the photo below that I am less than thrilled with his new "hobby."

I've been told that I should write down how I'm feeling this week, because once baby arrives, I'm going to totally forget what it was like to be pregnant. I'm not sure how I feel about this advice, though. It would make a lot of sense to me if by design, nature intends for mothers (and fathers!) to forget just how miserable the end of pregnancy really is. I'm confident that I'm going to be very excited and happy to meet my little boy or girl.  I'm much less confident that if I elaborately document how I'm feeling right now, I will ever want to be pregnant again. So I'll try to mix it up and detail the good, the bad, and the ugly of my past 39 weeks of pregnancy.

• I had minimal amounts of morning sickness in the early weeks. I think I only puked two times. Once while cooking kale, which I will never cook again, for fear of getting sick.
• I slept all the time and very well during Trimester #1. And since I often fell asleep at 7PM on the couch, it was incredibly easy to ween myself from my pre-pregnancy wine habit.
• I kept up my running routine until I was 24 weeks pregnant. Not bad at all! 
• I swam until I was about 35 weeks pregnant. I even clocked one of my fastest swimming miles of all time while pregnant. Bad ass!
• I walk all the time. According to my stats on Adidas miCoach, I've been averaging 50 miles a month of walking. It stings my ego knowing that at one point in my life, I ran 50 miles a week. But whatever. I wasn't carrying a bowling ball in my torso.
• I've only gained 20 pounds despite eating more pints of Hagen Dazs than I will ever disclose.

But let's be honest...

• I haven't slept since Trimester #1. Although last night, I only woke up to go to the bathroom on four different occasions, which I consider a good night.
• My back really effing hurts. Nothing makes it better. Nothing.
• And my boobs, which are already obnoxiously large, are unnecessarily larger. Even the most matronly shirts have become an NC-17 cleavage show. 
• At 39 weeks, my feet have started to swell, and I believe my left ankle has morphed into a cankle. Officially. 
• Speaking of feet, mine are always hot.
• Actually, speaking of hot, my entire body is always hot. And it doesn't help that we've had the most unusual late summer here in LA this year. Nor does it help that here in Santa Monica, where it is normally moderate and breezy, we don't have air conditioning.  
• Sure my feet and body are hot, but my esophagus is on fire. I have wicked heart burn. I hope this kid arrives before I run out of my Maximum Strength Tums. 
• At 39 weeks, I still don't have an outie belly button. I kind of wanted an outie. I hear they hurt, but I've never had one. So I file this under "Disappointment."
• Speaking of disappointment, why hasn't this child been born yet? I'm not mad. I'm just disappointed.
• At 39 weeks, I have a hard time tying my own sneakers. 
• Hell, at 39 weeks, I have a hard time fitting into my maternity pants. Everything seems to cut off the circulation to my lower extremities. 
• And probably the most frustrating of all, at 39 weeks, I cry every other day. Give or take, and often for no reason.

So, cheers to the fact that I *should* only be pregnant for another week. Three at most. 

The Neighborhood Walk

Since I had to stop running, I have been walking. A lot. Every day, and sometimes more than once a day. Down the street to Palisades Park, and either South towards The Pier or North towards San Vicente. My walks have been getting more and more interesting as I've grown larger these last few weeks. A few examples...

• While walking past St. Monica's Church on a Sunday morning, an old woman who I presume to be homeless and I am certain was mentally unstable says to me, "I hope you know who the father is..." Oh, if only you could hear the inflection of her voice. "I hope you know who the faaaaaaaaaather is..." I almost died.
• In contrast, while walking past a bar just the other day, a drunk lady smoking a cigarette told me I was BEAUTIFUL. Now, I get it - tons of people think pregnant women are beautiful and glowing. But I'd been having a particularly fat and ugly day. So even though this woman was a complete stranger, drunk, and smoking, I hugged her.  
• While crossing the street today, someone pulled up to a stop sign while blasting some impressive gangsta rap. But upon making eye contact with me, the person turned the music off. I think he was embarrassed to blast such hard core beats in front of a pregnant lady. Too bad he doesn't know that I still know -- and routinely rap -- the lyrics to "We Be Clubbin" for the benefit of Peanut.
• While strolling down another stretch of the street, Jeremy and I encountered a man walking his dogs with his son, who I guess was about three years old. We were passing a house that was decorated for Halloween and had a "Keep Out" sign on the door. The boy was asking his dad the meaning of "Keep Out" and he apparently didn't like his father's response, because all of a sudden, the boy said, "You're not that clever, Dad." I guess it starts pretty early, doesn't it?

Laughing after a hilarious interaction on the streets of Santa Monica...

Smiling at 38 Weeks!

Ouch! Labor? No. Sadly.

Finishing the Nursery

We've been applying the final touches to the nursery for months now, it seems. And we're finally done. Well, almost. I'm still waiting on fabric that I'm hoping to use for window treatments to arrive. But we're close enough! 

We've tried to create a gender neutral room. The walls are a light teal, but I'm worried it looks too blue. We found some great artwork on Etsy that is very bright and multi-colored. We also found some super cute bedding on Etsy that is grey and teal. I've crocheted a blanket. And after months of looking for the perfect area rug, Jeremy and I just decided to make one ourselves this weekend. I'm rather obsessed with chevron prints, so we made our very own chevron rug! Way cheaper than everything I've seen in the stores. And despite the minor argument Jeremy and I had while marking up the rug for painting, it was pretty fun to make.

Now, the only thing left to put into the baby's room is our baby. Come on, kid!

Covered in Paint at 38 Weeks

Our New Rug

Baby's Bedding

Safari Prints above the Crib

Full Term!

Well, in many ways, we thought this day would never arrive. And in many ways, the real day still hasn't arrived. But as of today, I am 37 weeks pregnant. Full term! Peanut, you can come meet us any day now, you will do just fine.

And so begins the longest part of pregnancy, I guess...