On Baby: Expected Early

Good advice right now.

On Thursday, Nick and I went to my doctor appointment and found out that they are moving the due date up one week. If she is not already here, I will be induced on May 13th (Original due date was May 19th). That is six days away.

Ever since we found out, I have been in a haze. One week early might not seem like a big deal, but there is something about tossing out the due date that threw me for a loop.

There are medical reasons behind the induction. It is not a decision based on schedules or convenience. That being said, everything is fine. There have been a number of small complications along the way. My doctor is wonderful and has been on top of everything, not letting any flag go unchecked. I trust her and I know that every decision is made with my and baby's best interest at heart.

I have been going in for weekly (and now, twice weekly) biophysicals for months. As far as medical procedures go, it's one of the most pleasant. It takes a lot of time but is an ultrasound (I would estimate we have had 17, most people have 3), followed by a non-stress test (involves drinking a CapriSun (Yum!) and monitoring the baby's heartbeat and movement.), followed by a consult with the doctor. Baby has been acing her exams, usually scoring a perfect 8/8 and that has allowed her to stay put for as long as she has.

But after being sent to a specialist, we received the recommendation to induce at 39 weeks. She is a little small, measuring about six pounds, amniotic fluid has remained steady but low, and they had previously recorded elevated pressure in the umbilical artery. The combination of these things, brought us the recommendation and ultimate decision to induce.

So there you go. Maybe more than you wanted. Maybe not enough. I had to write it all down for my own sanity and record keeping. My head is swimming with baby and delivery and so many emotions and I'm told I will forget all of this (yeah!).

Everyone around me is so excited. It is not that simple for me. I wish it was, but it's not. I cannot wait to hold my baby, to finally meet this little girl! I cannot wait for her to be a part of my life. I am thrilled at the idea of not being pregnant, of owning my body again. I am ecstatic to have my parents out here for two weeks. I am as ready as I think you can be. But I am also nervous, scared, anxious, and a thousand other things.

I told my doctor that my goal in this process is to "gather as much information as I can and then not have any expectations." And for the most part, that has worked for me. I ask a lot of questions. I read a lot. I try to prepare myself as much as possible. But when it's all said and done, there is so much out of my control.

I am taking this last bit of time to enjoy the change in weather (finally) and to prepare the house. I feel like there is so much to do but I know that breaking down cardboard and running laundry, ultimately, do not matter. But cleaning does settle my nerves so, I suppose for that reason alone, I will not fight the urge to sort clothes and clean the basement.

As you can probably tell from the disorganization of this post, my brain is not focused. I ask that you forgive my jumbled words and bear with me as this part of the journey comes to a close and a brand new chapter begins.

Hometown: Connected

I don't know what I can say that has not already been said, but I know that I can not write about anything else, until I address what happened in Boston. It is hard to believe that it has only been a week. It is hard to believe that it happened at all.

You do not have to know me well, to know that I am from Boston. I live in Minneapolis but all of my family and some of my dearest friends still reside in and around the city. I have never been shy about my pride for my hometown. Boston is a remarkable place and I miss it very much.

Nick has commented to me on a few occasions that the city has a connectedness to it that is intimidating to an outsider. It feels like everyone knows everyone else. The house that my parents live in was built by my great-grandfather and that is not uncommon. Roots run deep and people love their city with a passion that is usually reserved for states and countries.

And it is with that connectedness, that passion, that my city responded to horrific tragedy. Watching my home splattered on national television was heart-wrenching. It felt like a nightmare and it stretched on for days. I sat on my couch trying to learn as much as I could. I flipped channels, yelling at national reporters for mispronunciations and at local reporters for pulling away from coverage to discuss weather and traffic. I endlessly texted and checked facebook and refreshed Boston.com. I worried about my family and friends and I prayed desperately for those I knew were not okay.

I commented in this post that before I go home again, I will have traveled a long way. I could never have imagined what that meant. I wish so badly that I could be there now, to look upon the people and the place and reaffirm that they are there, picking up the pieces and moving forward. It helps to see videos and to hear stories. It helps to know the strength of my city and the humor that peeks through, even in times of horrendous tragedy.
 
Boston, you have my heart.

Teaser: Baby Name

Kaia practicing her ballet moves.

I probably shouldn't write this. I know I am asking for it, but it's too fun not to share.

As you probably know, we are keeping hush on the baby name until she is born. People judge easily when there isn't a little face attached to the moniker. I have asked our friends and family to not make guesses. Some are better at following this request than others (ahem, Steve and Tracey).

The other night, Nick and I were driving home after date night at this restaurant, when the song I know, that has her name in the title, started playing. Nick had typed her name into Spotify to see what we would find. I was surprised by the results.

I have always thought that her name has a musicality to it, a sing-song sound. My thoughts were confirmed when more than half a dozen songs came up in the search. And maybe I am biased, but I loved each one. The first was pop/rock, then country, and the rest were much older. It makes me happy to hear her name put to music.

Being somebody with a unique name, I know I am setting her up for a lifetime of not finding her name written on combs and bracelets, but at least she will have the music.

The List: In One Year

 The summer after I graduated college, I was living at home and working my first full-time job. I was saving money and planning a move to Minnesota. I was figuring out life after college.

One day on my lunch break, I was reading in the cafeteria when I looked up to see a guy I knew. He was the friend of an ex-boyfriend and I knew he did not think highly of me. Still, it surprised me when we made eye contact and he stared at me with a look of hatred. He held my gaze for as long as I let him and his eyes burned with animosity. I could not stop thinking about it and by the time I left work that day, I felt sick.

It wasn't until that night, going over the image for the millionth time, that I realized something and just like that, let it go. I started thinking about everything that had happened since the last time I saw him. I realized that he did not know me, not really. A list of events from the last year started populating in my head, each one pushed me forward. And suddenly I was too far away to be touched, too far for his eyes and his anger to hurt me.

As soon as I realized this, I went to my computer and started typing. My intention was to write down all that happened and what came out was the list. Each item was a memory and a thousand stories. With every line, I recalled a moment, planned or unplanned, that had transported me. It was the sum of all these parts that reminded me of all that I had accomplished and all that I have left to do.

I shared the list with my parents and a few friends. When at the end of that summer, I packed up my car and moved halfway across the country, my mom presented the list to me in a frame. Again at my wedding, my older sister read the list in lieu of a speech. Today, as I cleaned my office to prepare for my parents to stay here after the baby is born, I found the framed copy. And again, I am reminded.   

In the past year I...
July 5, 2004- July 5, 2005

Traveled to another country alone

Lived in Australia

Learned another culture

Traveled the eastern Australian coast

Met amazing friends

Fell in love

Snorkeled the Great Barrier Reef

Held a koala

Hugged a kangaroo

Ate kangaroo

Danced on a fire bar

Chilled in an ice bar

Traveled to New Zealand

Went bungee jumping

Went white water rafting

Dove out of an airplane

Rode in a jet boat

Hiked up a glacier

Fell through ice

Conquered a fear

Flew in a helicopter

Climbed an iceberg

Tried absinthe

Went on a road trip

Played with dolphins

Stayed in a hostel

Learned to surf

Flew in 30 planes

Saw an opera in Sydney

Saw the Red Sox win the World Series

Traveled to Minnesota

Traveled to Wisconsin

Celebrated with a Valentine

Tried sushi

Lost a passport

Almost lost a loved one

Walked all night for Relay for Life

Did an internship

Wrote my thesis

Decided to move

Graduated college

Turned 22 

Friday Fashion: Melting

 Spring might be coming. She wrote with much trepidation. The past few days have been sunny and melty. Tomorrow is supposed to be 55. In Minnesota that means there will be people outside in shorts. It is ridiculous. The amount of people who wrote on facebook that they drove with windows down yesterday is astounding. It was 37 maybe 40. We are desperate.

I am not immune to the excitement. Today I have been browsing pinterest and getting excited to dress myself post-baby. I have decided to share some of the lovelies with you.

I have collected a few Anthropologie gift cards and I am hoarding them until I am ready to try on and buy a summer dress. They have so many that I like right now but, alas, I must wait. A few favorites:

 Also, for the first time this summer since I was maybe fifteen, I am planning on buying and wearing a one-piece bathing suit. The idea scares me. In my head, I imagine those pretty, vintage bathing suits.

 

Why does it seem that women's bathing suits took a giant step back at some point? The vintage styles are flattering and lovely. Thankfully it seems that suits are moving in that direction again. But the one pieces from the 90s and 2000s are terrible. The last time I wore I one piece, it was essentially a leotard that flattened your chest and erased curves. And cutting giant strips of fabric from random places gives you weird tan lines and requires a perfect body to pull off.

Tan lines from this would make you look infected.

 Goodbye slouchy sweaters and winter jackets that do not zip. Hello tank tops, maxi dresses, and sandals!

I want this shirt!

Watch, next time I blog, I will be telling you about a new coating of snow. 

I hope the sun is shining wherever you are!

Last Bit of Winter: Momentary Escape

 Happy Spring. Although, it does not feel much like spring. The sun is definitely getting stronger but it is 21 degrees and there are mounds of snow everywhere. I am so over winter, snow, and being inside. I know I am repeating the words of so many others but- come on!

In the last few days, even Toby seems to have hit a wall. He gets so spun up and wants to play but can't stay focused to follow through with our usual games. I think he has cabin fever. It's like my little gray puppy has an internal calendar letting him know that spring is here. He wants out and so do I.

I think this is the first winter that Nick and I have not escaped somewhere warm. Usually there is a trip to break things up, to remind me that winter is long but that summer will come again. It is encouraging to go somewhere that does not suffer winter the way we do. A place where skin can be exposed and where winter does not include frozen sidewalks and icicle clad houses.

  I do not know when I will be somewhere tropical again. It will not be for awhile. I had a dream last night that Nick and I were on a resort on an island. It was amazing. I woke up and could not stop thinking about sunshine, waves, and colorful drinks.

And so I took to pinterest. If I can't make it happen, I can at least imagine where I would go...

 

Coincidence: Clues and Cues

Inspired by a recent episode of This American Life, I have been thinking a lot about coincidence. I love stories that unite random moments and chance meetings. I am fascinated by unexpected examples of connection that offer temporary proof of a meaningful life.

Since listening to the episode, I am trying to recall the coincidences that have happened to me. I came up with five examples. I ran the anecdotes by Nick and he questioned if they were all illustrations of coincidence. In his opinion, luck and serendipity were at work in a few.

However you want to classify them, these accounts have been plucked from obscurity to represent meaning. Some happened years ago and still, I hold them close to my heart. They have shone a light on ordinary days and created a memory that lives to provide significance.

My most recent instance occurred just a few weeks ago.

When we were in Boston, Nick and I went to a friend's for dinner. It was a forty minute drive from my parents' house and one town over from where my Mom grew up. The streets that take you from the main road to our destination were windy, wooded, and on this night, very snowy. We used Nick's phone for directions and planned on using it for the return trip. When we got out to the car, the map failed to find our location.

We tried to remember our way out and made guesses with each turn. After maybe ten minutes, I knew we were off track. The weather and the narrow roads made it too dangerous to pull over. We finally came upon an opening in the road, a small convenience store parking lot. I parked and called my Mom, hoping the area would be familiar enough for her to direct us home.

I told her the road we had been driving on and the name of the convenience store. She asked for a street sign. Behind us, I saw a street post with two street names and arrows pointing in opposite directions. I read the names off to her. Her voice changed with recognition. She said the street names back with a tongue of familiarity. I confirmed the streets and she let out a breath. She then gave me easy directions to a road that I would know.

The next morning my Mom informed me that I was sitting directly in front of the house where my grandfather was born and raised.

In the episode, it is mentioned that the stories always feel more powerful when they happen to us.  It is hard to view your own life through an objective lens. We desire a life of value and these glimpses show us a path, a larger force at work.

Despite that truth, a quote at the end of the podcast brings together why these stories still matter.

"There's just a poetry to things like this when they happen. There's some kind of beauty in it. There's meaning in the noticing of it at all."