...wow, I can't believe how many people have emailed to see where I've been since I haven't blogged lately. Things have been so quiet and uneventful that there hasn't been much to blog about. But since everyone seems to be missing me, I thought I'd blog about what I've been missing....(in no particular order)
diet soda
my feet
my waist (okay, some will argue it wasn't really there 8 months ago either but there was a time...)
walking
wearing nice clothes
sleeping on my belly
Malibu Rum and Diet Cokes
The King of Queens (this doesn't really have anything to do with my pregnancy, I realize, but I still miss my weekly helping of Kevin James. I do get plenty of old episodes running in syndication and joy of joys --- I saw that new episodes are starting next week on Wednesday!!!! Yey!!!)
going out to eat
shopping
putting up Christmas decorations
my nieces
my friends
my co-workers
my friends who used to be co-workers
going outside (it looks like this week was one beautiful week!)
my car
sleeping through the night (I know that won't be happening for the next couple of years!)
There are things I simply don't miss, though too:
cleaning the house
doing the laundry
driving to Harrisburg
getting up at 5AM
In other news, I think I officially "dropped" (which really doesn't mean much, other than the babies are headed downtown and getting ready for their exit). It could still be a few more weeks yet. I have a doctor's appointment on Tuesday, so hopefully we'll have some good news then. Anyone wanna take bets on how big the Buddahs are? I'm saying they both hit the 5 pound mark. Mark thinks they're around 4 lbs 3 ounces. What about dates? Who has a hunch on when they'll make their arrival? For some reason, I see myself in the hospital on Christmas -- not necessarily that I'll have them Christmas Day, but either that I'll be recovering or be laboring that day (and stuck eating hospital food).
Thursday, November 30, 2006
Sunday, November 19, 2006
Showers All Day
So, last Sunday we awoke to a rainy, miserable day.
"Showers all day," Mark said.
Odd choice of words, I thought. Why wouldn't he just say it's going to rain all day?
A few minutes later: "What time are you going to get your shower?" he asked me.
"Not sure. Why?"
Two more minutes pass: "I'm not sure what time I'm going to get my shower," he offers.
Not the usual Kehler morning banter.
A few more sentences were exchanged with the word "shower" in it until finally he said: "How about a baby shower today?"
YEY! My baby shower! I've been waiting a long, long time for a baby shower and it was finally here. Of course, Mark had to tell me that morning because the only way he would be able to (1) get me to shower (2) fix my hair and put on makeup (3) dress in clothes that actually cover my protruding belly and (4) leave the house would be to give me a really good reason to do so. And this was the best reason ever (next to my water breaking or contractions starting!)
It was a lovely event planned by my mom, with help from my sister and mother-in-law and Mark's aunt, held at my church just a few blocks down (remember, doctor's orders: I could have a shower, it just needed to be close by my house so I didn't have to be in a car for too long) and attended by about 50 close friends and family.
Everyone was so extremely generous. I couldn't believe all the gifts we received; it was an exhausting day just sitting there opening them all up. In fact, when my mom came over later in the week to wash the baby clothes before putting them away, I couldn't even remember opening up half the items!
We spent some time today putting everything else away -- the piggy banks we received as gifts on the shelves my dad stained for us; the Longaberger baskets in pretty pastel colors on the shelves; the 500+ diapers in the closet; the toys in (what else) a Longaberger basket; the picture frames stored safely away in a drawer just waiting for the first shots of Jillian and Max.
It all feels so close now.
I'm 30 weeks today. My midwife said she'd be happy if I got to 33 weeks; the high risk doctor said he probably wouldn't let me go much farther than 37 weeks if I didn't already go on my own.
I don't have a bag packed yet, although I feel like I should get that ready. Nor do we really have a game plan in place. We need to figure out who I'll call/what I'll do/how I'll get to the hospital if labor starts and Mark's traveling for work. We need to make a phone list of people to call to start sharing the good news of the twins' arrival...wow, so much to do yet...what am I doing wasting time here on this blog?
"Showers all day," Mark said.
Odd choice of words, I thought. Why wouldn't he just say it's going to rain all day?
A few minutes later: "What time are you going to get your shower?" he asked me.
"Not sure. Why?"
Two more minutes pass: "I'm not sure what time I'm going to get my shower," he offers.
Not the usual Kehler morning banter.
A few more sentences were exchanged with the word "shower" in it until finally he said: "How about a baby shower today?"
YEY! My baby shower! I've been waiting a long, long time for a baby shower and it was finally here. Of course, Mark had to tell me that morning because the only way he would be able to (1) get me to shower (2) fix my hair and put on makeup (3) dress in clothes that actually cover my protruding belly and (4) leave the house would be to give me a really good reason to do so. And this was the best reason ever (next to my water breaking or contractions starting!)
It was a lovely event planned by my mom, with help from my sister and mother-in-law and Mark's aunt, held at my church just a few blocks down (remember, doctor's orders: I could have a shower, it just needed to be close by my house so I didn't have to be in a car for too long) and attended by about 50 close friends and family.
Everyone was so extremely generous. I couldn't believe all the gifts we received; it was an exhausting day just sitting there opening them all up. In fact, when my mom came over later in the week to wash the baby clothes before putting them away, I couldn't even remember opening up half the items!
We spent some time today putting everything else away -- the piggy banks we received as gifts on the shelves my dad stained for us; the Longaberger baskets in pretty pastel colors on the shelves; the 500+ diapers in the closet; the toys in (what else) a Longaberger basket; the picture frames stored safely away in a drawer just waiting for the first shots of Jillian and Max.
It all feels so close now.
I'm 30 weeks today. My midwife said she'd be happy if I got to 33 weeks; the high risk doctor said he probably wouldn't let me go much farther than 37 weeks if I didn't already go on my own.
I don't have a bag packed yet, although I feel like I should get that ready. Nor do we really have a game plan in place. We need to figure out who I'll call/what I'll do/how I'll get to the hospital if labor starts and Mark's traveling for work. We need to make a phone list of people to call to start sharing the good news of the twins' arrival...wow, so much to do yet...what am I doing wasting time here on this blog?
Bye, Bye BMW
It's a sad weekend in the Kehler household. Well, it's really only sad for me. We traded in the BMW for a twin-mobile. After putting together the double stroller, Mark tested (and I hoped beyond hope) that it would fit in the trunk of the BMW. It didn't. We knew what we had to do. I couldn't even bring myself to say good bye when Mark took it for its last, lonely drive to the dealership. I loved that car. That car made me happy when I drove it. It had heated seats. A sun roof. The mirrors adjusted on its own when I parked it. It was the "ultimate driving machine".
However, we're now the proud owners of a GMC Yukon XL. It is a beast of a vehicle. I think it seats 8 or 9. It has a DVD player. The third row of seats. Enough cargo space for a double stroller and groceries and the grandparents (they wouldn't go in the cargo area, silly. They'd go in the third row).
I negotiated the deal by proxy from my bedroom. Mark doesn't have a good history of taking my "negotiation direction" and getting us what we want. When we honeymooned in Jamaica, we visited this awesome jewelry store where I had my eye on a beautiful tennis bracelet and he lusted after a Tag Heuer watch. Making a long story short, I got myself kicked out of the store after the seller through a calculator at me because I was low-balling the deal way too much (hey, it's where you have to start, right). After asking the tour bus driver to hold up the bus for us, I gave Mark specific direction as to what to do to get us the prized items. Specifically, I said, "Go back in and offer them $2500 (or something like that - I really don't remember the exact costs) but know that I'll go as high as $3000". Not two minutes later, did Mark come out of the jewelry store empty handed (and a faint bruise from a calculator on his forehead?). "What happened?" I asked. "Well, I went in there and said, 'my wife really wants this bracelet and she told me to offer you $2500 for it but she said I could go as high as $3000'". If I had a calculator on me I would have hurled it at him at that point. "You never give up what you're willing to pay! Thanks a lot; you just cost me the most beautiful tennis bracelet in the world." We left Jamaica jewelry-free, but he's definitely made up for his fatal mistake every Christmas and birthday since.
But, I must say, he did a great job parroting my words to get us this deal on the Yukon. Especially when he went to pick it up on Saturday and they wanted to charge us $100 more since the payoff on the BMW I had estimated was about $80 more than I thought. (I'm still trying to figure out why an $80 difference would cost us $100 more.) I was ready to walk at that point when he called from the dealership to relay the news. "I'll put a stop payment on the (downpayment) check and we'll forget the whole thing. If they're willing to let a sale go away for $100, then they don't want our business that badly," I said furiously. "Give me a minute," Mark said. I did and in that minute I called the bank to make sure that the check hadn't cleared yet and I was well within my rights of putting a stop payment on the check. It hadn't and I was. (Still hope for the BMW!) The phone rang a few minutes later. It was Mark: "You would be so proud of me. They're not making us pay the difference."
Darn right I was proud. Now for that second honeymoon to Jamaica and to scout out a new bracelet....
However, we're now the proud owners of a GMC Yukon XL. It is a beast of a vehicle. I think it seats 8 or 9. It has a DVD player. The third row of seats. Enough cargo space for a double stroller and groceries and the grandparents (they wouldn't go in the cargo area, silly. They'd go in the third row).
I negotiated the deal by proxy from my bedroom. Mark doesn't have a good history of taking my "negotiation direction" and getting us what we want. When we honeymooned in Jamaica, we visited this awesome jewelry store where I had my eye on a beautiful tennis bracelet and he lusted after a Tag Heuer watch. Making a long story short, I got myself kicked out of the store after the seller through a calculator at me because I was low-balling the deal way too much (hey, it's where you have to start, right). After asking the tour bus driver to hold up the bus for us, I gave Mark specific direction as to what to do to get us the prized items. Specifically, I said, "Go back in and offer them $2500 (or something like that - I really don't remember the exact costs) but know that I'll go as high as $3000". Not two minutes later, did Mark come out of the jewelry store empty handed (and a faint bruise from a calculator on his forehead?). "What happened?" I asked. "Well, I went in there and said, 'my wife really wants this bracelet and she told me to offer you $2500 for it but she said I could go as high as $3000'". If I had a calculator on me I would have hurled it at him at that point. "You never give up what you're willing to pay! Thanks a lot; you just cost me the most beautiful tennis bracelet in the world." We left Jamaica jewelry-free, but he's definitely made up for his fatal mistake every Christmas and birthday since.
But, I must say, he did a great job parroting my words to get us this deal on the Yukon. Especially when he went to pick it up on Saturday and they wanted to charge us $100 more since the payoff on the BMW I had estimated was about $80 more than I thought. (I'm still trying to figure out why an $80 difference would cost us $100 more.) I was ready to walk at that point when he called from the dealership to relay the news. "I'll put a stop payment on the (downpayment) check and we'll forget the whole thing. If they're willing to let a sale go away for $100, then they don't want our business that badly," I said furiously. "Give me a minute," Mark said. I did and in that minute I called the bank to make sure that the check hadn't cleared yet and I was well within my rights of putting a stop payment on the check. It hadn't and I was. (Still hope for the BMW!) The phone rang a few minutes later. It was Mark: "You would be so proud of me. They're not making us pay the difference."
Darn right I was proud. Now for that second honeymoon to Jamaica and to scout out a new bracelet....
Tuesday, November 07, 2006
Chomping on Twizzlers....
...know why I am and can chomp on chocolate twizzlers? Cuz I don't have gestational diabetes!!!! Yey! I'm so excited....read on for other exciting doctor news.
So, today was my first day out since October 10th. The first day I wore shoes since October 10th. The first day I fixed my hair. Put on makeup. Rode in a car. Ate in a restaurant. It was bound to be a good day.
We started at 8:25AM with a fasting blood draw. I wasn't able to eat anything since 10PM last night (which actually turned out to be a lot easier than I thought). After the first draw, I had to down a syrupy sweet clear drink (think Sprite with 10 extra shots of syrup) in 5 minutes. After that gets down the pipe, they then draw blood every hour for three hours (still not able to eat or drink anything) to test how your body reacts to the sugar. Mark and I camped out in the waiting room for the three hours. Luckily, we found comfy couches and a spot to raise my legs. He played Texas Hold 'Em on his Palm Pilot; I read "So That's What They're For" (a breastfeeding book given to me by the local president of our La Leche League, my sister --- she's not really the president but she's very pro breast feeding). And I checked my Blackberry every few minutes for any major advertising emergencies.
As we're sitting in the waiting room, this girl looks at me and says "You look like you're having twins". Good thing I was, huh? How insulting would it be if I weren't?
After my last draw at 11:30, Mark and I headed out to grab lunch at BJs in Danville (a yummy steak and ribs place that we probably won't get to for the next 18 years now). They tried seating me at a booth, but unfortunately I couldn't fit in the booth and had to sit at a table. There was a table of ladies lunching across the dining room actually laughing out loud at me. I actually didn't react to them...normally I would have shot some dirty look or made some loud comment back.
Anyway, after lunch, we headed back for another appointment - this time with the midwife. Now, up until this point I dreaded my appointments with the midwives (at the hospital, they rotate you through the different midwives so you get to know all of them). However, I found my past appointments with them to be rushed and unimportant. They never measured me or listened to the heartbeat because their appointments always coincided with my ultrasounds with Maternal and Fetal Medicine (the high risk department) and I think they just always used that as an excuse to not do a full exam. Besides, with a twin pregnancy a midwive wodn't deliver the babies anyway. An attending physician and a team of doctors will. However, today, we got a new midwife to see who is 2 months old to the hospital; she spent the last 18 years at Johns Hopkins (sold me immediately; I guess I'm a sucker for brand names). She spent more time with us at this appointment than our past midwife appointments combined. She measured me; checked the heartbeats; gave me some signs to look for in case of early labor; talked about the doctors that would deliver and offered to set my next appointment with an attending doctor who would most likely deliver the twins. Plus, she told me some things about how I was taking my iron and calcium supplements (I'd been taking them both at the same time --- apparently, not the best idea - they could almost cancel each other out).
After our appointment with her we met with the hyperactive lactation consultant. Wouldn't you think a lactation consultant would be calm and reassuring and mom-like? Not this whack job. She came through the door like Kramer on Seinfeld and didn't stop talking -- well she did for a few minutes, only to let me get out some of my concerns about the viability of me breastfeeding twins? Since I'm a little freaked out about the concept of breastfeeding but understand fully that "breastmilk is best", I told her of my concept to pump exclusively. "Well, let me play Devil's Advocate," she said. Oh here it comes, I thought. "You'll still have to clean bottles." That's the best she has? I'd still have to clean bottles versus having babies hanging from me every two hours? hhhhmmm...let me think about this.
Our last appointment was our ultrasound and consultation with MFM. My mom met us for this appointment as she was anxious to see an ultrasound. Well, our ultrasound techs (as well as our babies) put on a show for my mom. I knew that they wouldn't get any still shots of Max because he literally has not stopped moving for two days. He is constantly moving (oh yeah, they want me to do fetal movement counts where if I don't get 10 movements in 2 hours, I need to call them...I can get 10 movements off these babies in 3 minutes). Jillian cooperated quite nicely and we got a lot of great profile shots of her and they turned the 3D machine on so we could get the 3D view! That was amazing. She has the chubbiest cheeks!
Of course, since Mark and I compete on everything, we had a bet on how much they would weigh. My estimation was 3 lbs (which I thought was overly optimistic); he said 2.4 lbs (which is right on track for how far along we are). Drum roll, please. Jillian weighed in at 3 lbs 13 ounces and Max weighed 3 lbs 5 ounces. The techs and the doctor were absolutely amazed at their size. They said they've never seen twins this big this early. I'm measuring 3 weeks ahead of where I should be. For singletons, Jillian is in the 90th percentile (that means that only 10% of single babies at this gestational age are bigger); Max is in the 75th percentile. They're off the charts, of course, when it comes to twins.
So the weight is good, but we still need to keep them cooking a few more weeks yet. The lungs really aren't fully developed until 32 weeks, so while they may seem big enough for life outside the womb, there's still a lot of development that needs to happen so we can take home big, chubby, healthy buddah babies (oh yeah, the doctor gave us his Buddah cheer --- yelling "Buddah! Buddah! Buddah! once he saw the size).
Anyone taking part in the Pavone Baby Pool? Think December.
So, today was my first day out since October 10th. The first day I wore shoes since October 10th. The first day I fixed my hair. Put on makeup. Rode in a car. Ate in a restaurant. It was bound to be a good day.
We started at 8:25AM with a fasting blood draw. I wasn't able to eat anything since 10PM last night (which actually turned out to be a lot easier than I thought). After the first draw, I had to down a syrupy sweet clear drink (think Sprite with 10 extra shots of syrup) in 5 minutes. After that gets down the pipe, they then draw blood every hour for three hours (still not able to eat or drink anything) to test how your body reacts to the sugar. Mark and I camped out in the waiting room for the three hours. Luckily, we found comfy couches and a spot to raise my legs. He played Texas Hold 'Em on his Palm Pilot; I read "So That's What They're For" (a breastfeeding book given to me by the local president of our La Leche League, my sister --- she's not really the president but she's very pro breast feeding). And I checked my Blackberry every few minutes for any major advertising emergencies.
As we're sitting in the waiting room, this girl looks at me and says "You look like you're having twins". Good thing I was, huh? How insulting would it be if I weren't?
After my last draw at 11:30, Mark and I headed out to grab lunch at BJs in Danville (a yummy steak and ribs place that we probably won't get to for the next 18 years now). They tried seating me at a booth, but unfortunately I couldn't fit in the booth and had to sit at a table. There was a table of ladies lunching across the dining room actually laughing out loud at me. I actually didn't react to them...normally I would have shot some dirty look or made some loud comment back.
Anyway, after lunch, we headed back for another appointment - this time with the midwife. Now, up until this point I dreaded my appointments with the midwives (at the hospital, they rotate you through the different midwives so you get to know all of them). However, I found my past appointments with them to be rushed and unimportant. They never measured me or listened to the heartbeat because their appointments always coincided with my ultrasounds with Maternal and Fetal Medicine (the high risk department) and I think they just always used that as an excuse to not do a full exam. Besides, with a twin pregnancy a midwive wodn't deliver the babies anyway. An attending physician and a team of doctors will. However, today, we got a new midwife to see who is 2 months old to the hospital; she spent the last 18 years at Johns Hopkins (sold me immediately; I guess I'm a sucker for brand names). She spent more time with us at this appointment than our past midwife appointments combined. She measured me; checked the heartbeats; gave me some signs to look for in case of early labor; talked about the doctors that would deliver and offered to set my next appointment with an attending doctor who would most likely deliver the twins. Plus, she told me some things about how I was taking my iron and calcium supplements (I'd been taking them both at the same time --- apparently, not the best idea - they could almost cancel each other out).
After our appointment with her we met with the hyperactive lactation consultant. Wouldn't you think a lactation consultant would be calm and reassuring and mom-like? Not this whack job. She came through the door like Kramer on Seinfeld and didn't stop talking -- well she did for a few minutes, only to let me get out some of my concerns about the viability of me breastfeeding twins? Since I'm a little freaked out about the concept of breastfeeding but understand fully that "breastmilk is best", I told her of my concept to pump exclusively. "Well, let me play Devil's Advocate," she said. Oh here it comes, I thought. "You'll still have to clean bottles." That's the best she has? I'd still have to clean bottles versus having babies hanging from me every two hours? hhhhmmm...let me think about this.
Our last appointment was our ultrasound and consultation with MFM. My mom met us for this appointment as she was anxious to see an ultrasound. Well, our ultrasound techs (as well as our babies) put on a show for my mom. I knew that they wouldn't get any still shots of Max because he literally has not stopped moving for two days. He is constantly moving (oh yeah, they want me to do fetal movement counts where if I don't get 10 movements in 2 hours, I need to call them...I can get 10 movements off these babies in 3 minutes). Jillian cooperated quite nicely and we got a lot of great profile shots of her and they turned the 3D machine on so we could get the 3D view! That was amazing. She has the chubbiest cheeks!
Of course, since Mark and I compete on everything, we had a bet on how much they would weigh. My estimation was 3 lbs (which I thought was overly optimistic); he said 2.4 lbs (which is right on track for how far along we are). Drum roll, please. Jillian weighed in at 3 lbs 13 ounces and Max weighed 3 lbs 5 ounces. The techs and the doctor were absolutely amazed at their size. They said they've never seen twins this big this early. I'm measuring 3 weeks ahead of where I should be. For singletons, Jillian is in the 90th percentile (that means that only 10% of single babies at this gestational age are bigger); Max is in the 75th percentile. They're off the charts, of course, when it comes to twins.
So the weight is good, but we still need to keep them cooking a few more weeks yet. The lungs really aren't fully developed until 32 weeks, so while they may seem big enough for life outside the womb, there's still a lot of development that needs to happen so we can take home big, chubby, healthy buddah babies (oh yeah, the doctor gave us his Buddah cheer --- yelling "Buddah! Buddah! Buddah! once he saw the size).
Anyone taking part in the Pavone Baby Pool? Think December.
Sunday, November 05, 2006
The Joy of Pregnancy Hormones
So a few weeks ago, Mark got a new cell phone and he gave me his old one to use. His old phone still has all of his contacts' phone numbers listed in it. I really haven't had the energy or desire to delete them, so they remain in there. I should also preface this post by saying that at one point he also used this phone as a work phone so many of his "clients" as well as co-workers have this number. I found that out a few days ago when I answered the phone to hear the raspy voice of one of his "clients".
And, I'm sure many of you reading this will remember that Mark was away for about 6 weeks back in the Spring for his job, at which point he made friends with many people all around the country. He stays in touch with many of them (both male and female) because they all share the same profession. No big deal here.
Well, yesterday morning, hell hath no fury like a pregnant woman on bedrest with a 51 inch waist (that's right...51 inches; we just measured). So, "my" cell phone rings at 11AM on Saturday morning. The caller ID shows that it is "Lindsey" one of the fine gals Mark spent 6 weeks with in the Spring. I, of course, jump at the chance to answer this call, not really knowing or anticipating anything....just wanted to answer it.
Lindsey: "Mark?"
Bedrester: "No, it's Jennifer" (uuumm, I know that I'm huge now and all, but I didn't think my voice deepened that much that I could be mistaken for Mark).
Lindsey (in a loud, suspected drunken voice): "Are you ready for some Tequila shots?"
Bedrester: "Excuse me?"
Lindsey: "Who is this?"
Bedrester: "This is Jennifer. Who are you trying to reach?"
Lindsey: "Jennifer, what are you doing answering Mark's cell phone?"
OH. NO. SHE. DIDN'T.
Bedrester: "Um, Lindsey, this is my phone. What do you want?"
Lindsey: Click.
OH. NO. SHE. DIDN'T.
Mark: "What was that all about?"
Bedrester: "Why don't you tell me? It was Lindsey calling to see if you wanted some tequila shots. What's that about?"
Mark: "Are you sure that's what she said? I'm sure she's just calling to tell me she's pregnant. She was inseminated about a month ago."
Bedrester (loud, annoyed voice): "I highly doubt she was calling to tell you she was pregnant; she was drunk; where does this slut live anyway and why would she be calling?"
Mark: "She lives in Iowa and that's like a four hour time difference so maybe she's just coming in from the night and yeah, she drinks a lot."
Bedrester: "Well, I hope she isn't calling to tell you she's pregnant because she was drunk. Now, I want you to sit here on this bed and call this whore back and I want you to tell her that she does not call my cell phone and hang up on me. This is my house and I am your wife and I can answer any phone that I want. If you don't call her back right now I will."
Mark: "I don't know why you're acting like this. But I'll call her."
So, he calls back and leaves a message --- something about "you just called my wife; she thought it was a client (ah, no I didn't) and just checking to make sure everything was okay."
She calls back in a few minutes and I can hear her drunken voice on the other end.
Drunk Lindsey: "Please tell your wife I'm so sorry. We're tailgating at the Iowa/Northwestern game and I was calling my friend Mark who's supposed to meet us here. Please tell your wife I'm sorry." And then a few more times I heard her say "I'm sorry."
Of course, after he hung up the phone, we had a good laugh because it was a really good display of pregnancy hormones in action (I'm never a jealous person) and we're still joking about it today.
And, by the way, in case anyone cares, Iowa is not 4 hours behind us. They're a mere 1.
And, I'm sure many of you reading this will remember that Mark was away for about 6 weeks back in the Spring for his job, at which point he made friends with many people all around the country. He stays in touch with many of them (both male and female) because they all share the same profession. No big deal here.
Well, yesterday morning, hell hath no fury like a pregnant woman on bedrest with a 51 inch waist (that's right...51 inches; we just measured). So, "my" cell phone rings at 11AM on Saturday morning. The caller ID shows that it is "Lindsey" one of the fine gals Mark spent 6 weeks with in the Spring. I, of course, jump at the chance to answer this call, not really knowing or anticipating anything....just wanted to answer it.
Lindsey: "Mark?"
Bedrester: "No, it's Jennifer" (uuumm, I know that I'm huge now and all, but I didn't think my voice deepened that much that I could be mistaken for Mark).
Lindsey (in a loud, suspected drunken voice): "Are you ready for some Tequila shots?"
Bedrester: "Excuse me?"
Lindsey: "Who is this?"
Bedrester: "This is Jennifer. Who are you trying to reach?"
Lindsey: "Jennifer, what are you doing answering Mark's cell phone?"
OH. NO. SHE. DIDN'T.
Bedrester: "Um, Lindsey, this is my phone. What do you want?"
Lindsey: Click.
OH. NO. SHE. DIDN'T.
Mark: "What was that all about?"
Bedrester: "Why don't you tell me? It was Lindsey calling to see if you wanted some tequila shots. What's that about?"
Mark: "Are you sure that's what she said? I'm sure she's just calling to tell me she's pregnant. She was inseminated about a month ago."
Bedrester (loud, annoyed voice): "I highly doubt she was calling to tell you she was pregnant; she was drunk; where does this slut live anyway and why would she be calling?"
Mark: "She lives in Iowa and that's like a four hour time difference so maybe she's just coming in from the night and yeah, she drinks a lot."
Bedrester: "Well, I hope she isn't calling to tell you she's pregnant because she was drunk. Now, I want you to sit here on this bed and call this whore back and I want you to tell her that she does not call my cell phone and hang up on me. This is my house and I am your wife and I can answer any phone that I want. If you don't call her back right now I will."
Mark: "I don't know why you're acting like this. But I'll call her."
So, he calls back and leaves a message --- something about "you just called my wife; she thought it was a client (ah, no I didn't) and just checking to make sure everything was okay."
She calls back in a few minutes and I can hear her drunken voice on the other end.
Drunk Lindsey: "Please tell your wife I'm so sorry. We're tailgating at the Iowa/Northwestern game and I was calling my friend Mark who's supposed to meet us here. Please tell your wife I'm sorry." And then a few more times I heard her say "I'm sorry."
Of course, after he hung up the phone, we had a good laugh because it was a really good display of pregnancy hormones in action (I'm never a jealous person) and we're still joking about it today.
And, by the way, in case anyone cares, Iowa is not 4 hours behind us. They're a mere 1.
Saturday, November 04, 2006
Catching Up
I've heard from so many people over the past week or so wondering when I'd post again...truth is, I just felt I had nothing really interesting to say so I opted to just not post. It's pretty hard to come up with something smart and worthy of people's time when I'm really experiencing very little from my bedroom.
Does everyone really want to hear about the sleepless nights? Well, that's a bit of a lie, I guess. I do sleep every night. I get up about every two hours to shift my body. My stomach is so large and it is putting so much pressure on my hips that I wake up in such pain that I have to get up and move my whole body to the opposite side. It's a process, though, requiring about a good 5 minutes to perfect the next position - propping all pillows in the correct places, moving Mark if I need to, drinking some water. Luckily, though, I do fall back to sleep rather quickly after all adjustments have been made.
Today is an exciting day for me though. I'm getting a pregnancy massage. It was a birthday gift from a friend who arranged her masseuse to actually come to my house to give me a massage. I couldn't be more excited --- and I'm not quite sure if I'm more excited to have all the pains in my back, legs, arms, hands, and feet rubbed out or if I'm more excited to see someone besides Mark, my mom and dad, my sister and nieces and my friends that have visited over the past few weeks.
Tomorrow marks my 28th week of pregnancy which is a milestone that, so many months ago, seemed so far off. Early on, we learned that 28 weeks was the minimal goal as both babies would have a 95% chance of survival if they were born at 28 weeks. Luckily, we've had no complications (thank God!!!!) so we're confident we'll far surpass the 28 weeks.
Then, I get to counting. At first, the high risk doctor said it was his goal to get us to 34 weeks. 34 weeks!!!!! That's only 6 weeks away! Even if I go beyond that to 37 weeks (he said he probably wouldn't let me go much farther than that), we're still in single digits. Only 9 weeks! So hard to believe but yet I'm so anxious to see the babies. (And for those not in the holiday spirit just yet, my 35th week is Christmas Day...so Christmas is just 7 weeks away!)
Mark and I were talking about the babies this morning. I asked if he thought they had hair. Because I picture them both coming out with nice, thick dark heads of hair. Mark said he likes bald babies and hopes they're BOTH bald. I'd compromise and have a bald boy but a girl??? Really, I hope she at least has hair.
We have our next appointment - actually appointments - this coming Tuesday. I go in at 830A to do my 3 hour glucose test to test for gestational diabetes (and I'm so not confident I'm going to pass; I really have a feeling it's going to turn out positive that I have it). Then, I have an appointment with our high risk doctor at which time we'll have another ultrasound. We've invited my mom to come with us to this appointment so she could see the twinners on the big screen. It really is exciting to see. Then, we have an appointment with the midwife after that. So, at least I get out of the house for the day...it just sucks that I have to spend it in the hospital. So, look for an update Tuesday night on our appointment.
Does everyone really want to hear about the sleepless nights? Well, that's a bit of a lie, I guess. I do sleep every night. I get up about every two hours to shift my body. My stomach is so large and it is putting so much pressure on my hips that I wake up in such pain that I have to get up and move my whole body to the opposite side. It's a process, though, requiring about a good 5 minutes to perfect the next position - propping all pillows in the correct places, moving Mark if I need to, drinking some water. Luckily, though, I do fall back to sleep rather quickly after all adjustments have been made.
Today is an exciting day for me though. I'm getting a pregnancy massage. It was a birthday gift from a friend who arranged her masseuse to actually come to my house to give me a massage. I couldn't be more excited --- and I'm not quite sure if I'm more excited to have all the pains in my back, legs, arms, hands, and feet rubbed out or if I'm more excited to see someone besides Mark, my mom and dad, my sister and nieces and my friends that have visited over the past few weeks.
Tomorrow marks my 28th week of pregnancy which is a milestone that, so many months ago, seemed so far off. Early on, we learned that 28 weeks was the minimal goal as both babies would have a 95% chance of survival if they were born at 28 weeks. Luckily, we've had no complications (thank God!!!!) so we're confident we'll far surpass the 28 weeks.
Then, I get to counting. At first, the high risk doctor said it was his goal to get us to 34 weeks. 34 weeks!!!!! That's only 6 weeks away! Even if I go beyond that to 37 weeks (he said he probably wouldn't let me go much farther than that), we're still in single digits. Only 9 weeks! So hard to believe but yet I'm so anxious to see the babies. (And for those not in the holiday spirit just yet, my 35th week is Christmas Day...so Christmas is just 7 weeks away!)
Mark and I were talking about the babies this morning. I asked if he thought they had hair. Because I picture them both coming out with nice, thick dark heads of hair. Mark said he likes bald babies and hopes they're BOTH bald. I'd compromise and have a bald boy but a girl??? Really, I hope she at least has hair.
We have our next appointment - actually appointments - this coming Tuesday. I go in at 830A to do my 3 hour glucose test to test for gestational diabetes (and I'm so not confident I'm going to pass; I really have a feeling it's going to turn out positive that I have it). Then, I have an appointment with our high risk doctor at which time we'll have another ultrasound. We've invited my mom to come with us to this appointment so she could see the twinners on the big screen. It really is exciting to see. Then, we have an appointment with the midwife after that. So, at least I get out of the house for the day...it just sucks that I have to spend it in the hospital. So, look for an update Tuesday night on our appointment.
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