Where Do Babies Come From?

This exchange I wrote about happened during my pregnancy, but I was going through some old e-mails and thought I would share on our blog page ... Bradyn WILL need thereapy in his later years for the stories his mother posts on the family blog page for the world to see. Let's hope his "baby" theory sticks around for as many years as possible. Kids grow up WAY to fast these days!

BRADYN J. ELDRIDGE ...

WHERE DO BABIES COME FROM?

A number of weeks ago Jon and I were discussing in vague details the birds and the bees with Drew. He has come home with some interesting thoughts on the subject, so we have started to open a dialogue about the whole thing (good heavens, he is only 8, I am NOT ready for this!). At any rate, we didn’t want to scare the kid, but wanted to make sure he knew SOMETHING. So, somewhere in the conversation he understood that babies somehow come from the mommy and the daddy and in his mind, “daddies put the babies in the mommies tummy when they hump like Caesar (our Shitzu)”. Okay, that was more information than I wanted to hear from my 8 year-old and we put that topic to rest. Well, somewhere in there his 3 year-old brother was all ears and heard a portion of the conversation. Today I found out where babies come from … according to Bradyn.
Bradyn and I have “car chats” wherein I turn the rear view mirror to the back seat so he can see me and I him. He has been requesting this for over a year now and I oblige. These are the times that Bradyn will be absolutely ridiculous, cute and charming, or even philosophical. Well, as philosophical as a 3 year-old can be. Today was one of those days. Bradyn exclaimed to me in a very serious tone, “When I grow up and get big, I am going to be a daddy just like my daddy.” Okay, so that was cute and I was thinking what a great influence Jon must have on this kid for him to want to be just like his daddy. SO, we went further down the road and I said, “A daddy, huh? So are you going to have babies?” Bradyn again turned very serious and there was a long pause … “well,” he said, “fiwst I have to find a giwl … so she can be the mommy and I can be the daddy.” I responded, “Oh, okay.” I then looked into the rearview mirror to see Bradyn making a stirring motion with his hands like he was stirring a big bowl of something. “Yep,” Bradyn said, “I’m gonna stir up some babies and put ‘em right up in the mommy so she can have some babies!” I almost drove off the road laughing. So, if you ever wondered exactly WHERE babies come from it is apparently a mix that you can get at the store. I will ask Bradyn later exactly where the baby mix is if you really need to know.

The End is Near ...

Baby update from ultrasound and appointment yesterday … I am 36 weeks on Saturday, the baby by all accounts is perfectly healthy … and is a few ounces shy of 7 lbs … they gain about 1-2 lbs the last 4 weeks of pregnancy, I am being induced March 9th if he hasn’t already arrived (that’s 39 weeks). All of this means:A. I will be giving birth to a freaking toddler WITH a giant head like his brothers.B. They will have to dynamite him out, like his brothers, because when they “checked” me today I show NO SIGNS of being ready to have a baby … oh, except for the constant pelvic pressure and contractions from that do absolutely nothing but make me tired and grouchy and HURT.C. If this baby is as large as they think, I will be tearing Jon’s testicles from his body with my bare hands … just so he can experience the “miracle” of birth with me. D. Today a complete stranger, and I mean a COMPLETE stranger, walked up to me and started rubbing my belly and asking me when I was due. I almost slapped the living hell out of her, and I would have, if I wasn’t so tired I could barely see straight much lift my hand to slap her. I was also fearful if I started slapping her I might not stop. So I just muttered, “never, I am never due, I am going to just keep this baby in utero for the next 18 years or so … I mean, 3 weeks.” E. Will I be asking for drugs or going “natural” … God made drugs for a reason and I plan on taking advantage of anything they will give me as well as all illegal street narcotics I can pick up on my way into the hospital from the locals in my town. Will I be having a Cesarean or natural? As “natural” as you can be when you are highly medicated and the nurse has to instruct you when to push because you can’t feel the contractions … or your legs .. or anything from the waist down. But if he is as huge as they predict that whole natural” thing might change (and I might want it to!) and I will be having a Cesarean. F. Jon is still alive, but he doesn’t say much these days … I think it’s fear. Poor Jon.G. The crib and dresser/changer finally arrived from the factory to the store … despite the fact that the store insisted they send it all “freight” shipping and I “might” get it by the end of the month (even though I ordered it in PLENTY of time for a much earlier delivery!). Needless to say, the operator on the other end of that phone call was informed that her job, indeed her life, would be in jeopardy because I would hunt her down no matter where she hid if this child arrived BEFORE said crib and changer were set up neatly in the nursery, that I have very carefully prepared … and it is not MY fault that NO STORE on the eastern seaboard sees fit to carry a black crib and changer because IF THEY KEPT UP with things, they would know that black is very trendy right now, not maple or white or pecan or whatever they had “plenty” of! Please pray for an early delivery … Love,cortney

Creating Life by The Angry Drunk

WARNING: Before reading on I have decided that the latter of this pregnancy will be referred to as the "angry drunk" phase. My comments are a tad grouchy and definately uninhibited. So, if you are offended, remember, the hormones of pregnancy have made me an angry drunk. Oh this thing we call "creating life ...." hmmmm. I would post a phot of myself as of today, but I am not sure what the max weight limit is on personage posting on the internet and if harpooning via cyberspace is even legalized. Figured I would not take any chances. Just imagine a 5'11" Amazone with girly hair, a pale face (that would be the anemia), and a look of tired disdain on her face. Got that visual? Yep, that's me.

I am the worst at communication when the winter rolls in. We hibernate like a bunch of bears over here! I think this pregnancy (from hell, mind you) has just beaten the wind right out of my sails. Getting BIG is an understatement. Everyone says, “you look great!” but I feel like a tank. Baby is good, despite every scare known to man being thrown our direction this time around. It seemed like for a while every time I went to the ob there was more “bad news”. Here’s a brief recap:
Gestational diabetes – check
Diabetic “rage” episodes – check (basically, my sugar is off, my hormones are off, and Jon gets things thrown at him and then I start to cry)
Chest palpitations – check (on me, not the kid)
Flu/Sinus/Crap – check
Baby is too big for dates (which means I am also to big for dates ... grrrrr!) – check
6 ultrasounds, two high level – check
To much amniotic fluid – check
Protein in the urine – check
Bladder infection – check
2 gall bladder attacks, one ER visit worthy and a demurral shot later – check (no problems EVER with gall bladder until THIS PREGNANCY … they are removing gall bladder after I have this critter)
And the number one, favorite “never ever had before with either of my other pregnancies”, I think I have hemorrhoids – check

As of today I am officially 32 weeks and some days. Docs are “officially” inducing labor at 39 weeks (cause captain fathead is a diabetic “big” baby and is already 4 lbs so they don’t want me to have a toddler … uh-huh) but toying with the idea of a couple weeks sooner than that. The amniotic fluid issue resolved itself, I now take 2 shots of insulin a day, prick my finger 5 times a day to test my blood, and make sure I drink cranberry juice to avoid any more bladder infections. Ultrasound yesterday revealed the following:
The baby has really big feet – check
The baby has a really big head – check
The baby is just really big – check
I think the baby flipped me off – check
The baby has hair – check
The baby is a very PROUD boy - check

On Monday I start to go to the doctor 2 times a week for non stress testing and “checking” on captain fatheads growth pattern. The insulin makes me “bloated” and gain weight so that has been a really happy side effect to which the doctor assures me will come off after I have the baby. Uh-huh. As for captain fathead, he seems to be healthy and happy in his little amniotic environment. I am pretty sure I have internal bleeding because he has ADHD for sure and never stops kicking the hell out of me. He prefers 2 am kicks that literally shake my whole body and wake me up from what little sleep I can get because of the massive insomnia. Oh wait, I forgot, I also have Restless Leg Syndrome now. I am super tired, I lay down in the bed, and my legs want to PARTY, PARTY! Doc says it is a hormone thing and totally normal. Uh-huh. You will REGRET you asked ME for an update!

Honestly, I am in the final stretch and looking forward to being NOT PREGNANT. I finally bought pacifiers the other day (my first actual baby purchase) so I think I am accepting now that we are going to have a baby here in the house. I have organized all the hand me down clothes and he will have no less than 5 total outfit changes (including shoes and hats) every day to accommodate his bulging hand me down pile. He has 2 patriots bibs and 2 red sox bibs, both the same size and style, all from 4 different people. Bunch of weird Yankees and their sports. I am all set on baby blankets (found my stash, so excited!), and Roo is bringing me a car seat and burp rags and bottles. Other than that, I got nothing. I mean NOTHING. We gave it ALL AWAY and THEN found out we were expecting. So, we’re starting from scratch for one kid. Mom volunteered to buy us a crib. Jon himmed and hawed about her offer for a couple days (his male ego), but then got the oil bill and the weather report predicting MORE COLD and said, “okay, the price of oil took my pride away, your Mom is officially AWESOME!” I admit, she is very nice… or she doesn’t want her grandchild sleeping in a drawer. There might be an ulterior motive! Hahah! We are forking out about $700 month for heating oil (*I love NEW ENGLAND!) so we are taking her up on her crib offer! I was really thinking hey, it’s the third kid, he can sleep in a drawer, right? This poor child. Looking at an end of February first part of March delivery.

AND, THAT’S JUST ME … Jon is busier than ever at work, sliding into the home plate on his Masters Degree (yeah!) and basically putting up with his completely nutsy, tired, large as a tank wife. Jon is now the Stake Athletics Director (okay, let’s be h9oenst here, the basketball king of the stake). He just got called and is a little iffy about WHAT they want him to do since there was no program, but he loves all sports so he will get something figured out. He is a SUPER DAD and always makes times to take the boys sledding, watch movies, etc. while mom sleeps, yes sleeps, all the time. Jon leaves for Chicago on Tuesday next week and will be back Thursday or Friday so the kids and I manage without the Dad for a few days. He hates leaving, but it is some special “butt kissing meeting” to which he must show his face and act like he has manners. Whatever he needs to do t okeep the money coming down the pipeline so we can pay for this baby, he’ll be there!

Drew is doing well in his duties as the fourth grade president and has recently decided that Hillary Clinton is the anti-Christ (sans his father’s gentle hints about his own Hillary opinions) and only lesbians and morons voted for her and New Hampshire should be ashamed. I must admit, in our small, but openly lesbian town the lesbians did come out in vast numbers and getting to the voting stations involved passing through some rather large, uni-browed, flannel, rainbow and girl power t-shirts on our local clan of lesbians all supporting Hillary. The subarus were lined up complete with the “day without fairies is a day without magic” bumper stickers and the overwhelming stench of Patchouli and Marijuana filled the air. It was “interesting”, and then Hillary won so now Jon thinks the lesbians have a larger voice here than he originally thought and he is “concerned” for his boy Mitt. Poor Jon. He and Drew share Hillary sucks stories with one another. Drew also officially has a :girlfriend”. Whatever that means when you are 10. She calls the house nightly (hussy) and I have recently had to veto her phone calls to a couple of times a week for 10 minute intervals. Drew is just bored when she calls and says, “uh-huh” a lot. I am NOT ready for these over aggressive females in my son’s life! Let them be kids!!! AUGH!

Bradyn, well, Bradyn has become my birthing partner since Jon is always working. He can now work the Doppler at the ob office and find the babies heartbeat and he squeals at the “penius” when it comes into view on the ultrasound. For the most part he keeps telling me I am getting fatter and fatter and maybe I should not eat anymore or I will get to fat! Poor kid. I think he gave up that there is a baby in there! I have had a lot of Braxton hicks contractions and I will just sort of sit and breathe as the dog comes and sits right at my feet and follows me around and Bradyn says, “okay mom, just breathe through the pain.” Poor kid! His wife will never have babies! He’ll be to wierded out about his own mother’s pregnancy! We have all had the sickies for the last month with one thing or another and we now have the Bishopbric calling to see if we are inactive. Nope, just sick, all the time!

Now, how is YOUR life?!??! I’ll have to be a better blogger and stay in touch more when I get done having my body invaded by the body snatchers. In the final finish … light at the end of my tunnel and darkness at the end of Jon’s as he stares down the barrel of the snip snip doctor. Lucky, lucky Jon.
Love,
cort