It Begins

Well, it's begun. The cumbersome process of figuring out what you need and how much you can afford to spend. Buy a breast pump? Rent a breast pump? Will I even need a breast pump? Glass bottles? Plastic bottles? Both? Swing or bouncy chair? Do we get duplicates because of the lake house or does the kid deal with only having a swing at the apartment? Gates, drawer and cabinet locks, toilet locks? Sure, some of this stuff we don't need to worry about until after the kid is mobile. But if any of the stories of Shervyn as a kiddle are true, I fully expect to find an 18-month-old spawn standing on top of the crib laughing its head off. Or trying to swim in the toilet. Or trying to take the wall sockets apart. Yikes. Let's just focus on how to survive the first couple of weeks, shall we?

Our trip to Babies R Us was both overwhelming and comforting. Shervyn realized that an $999 Bugaboo stroller really wasn't necessary and that a 13 lb Maclaren umbrella stroller is a good thing. I had a hard time not getting distracted by the things with music, vibrations, spins, etc. Oh and the library we have to set up. Dr. Seuss, Maurice Sendak, Harold and the Purple Crayon, Good Night Moon... So much good stuff.

We eventually buckled down and started looking at cribs. The ones above are listed in order from least to most favorite. Most cribs are pretty ugly. And the quality and price of the other nursery furniture is ridiculous. We'll buy a crib from a baby place and then Ikea the rest of the furniture probably. An Ikea dresser is about half the cost of a "baby" dresser and the quality is actually better. Now on to all the other scary stuff we've got to get done.

As Shervyn promised, here are some more shots of the house. It looks much bigger from the outside than it actually is. And the garage is useless for his poor car; the driveway is so steep it threatens to rip the bottom of his car off when he attempts to get into the garage. But we do have a big porch with a loverly gazebo. Which I'll never actually sit in because I'm sure there's spiders in there. The lake is restful and, rumor has it, full of fish. Shervyn may turn into a bass fisherman in his free time. And finally, Gabby doesn't seem to mind the ride on down to the house much at all. Doesn't she look elegant in her purple (much-hated) harness. From the peaceful expression on her face in this picture you'd never think that putting her in the damn thing led to a melt down worthy of the crankiest of 4 (or 34) year olds.

A Not So Random Walk to the Edge

The edge of our property that is. The walk starts in the livingroom where our incredibly, calm, and understanding real estate agent, Lisa, is struggling to open French doors out to the side porch...trust me the doors are really that complicated, you have to twist a couple of knobs, rattle the handle just so and wait for the moon to enter the house of Mars before you can actually open them. Which is why we're going to go out the front door.

Once you turn around to get to the front door you can't help but notice our nifty fireplace. But don't dawdle...out the door and into the woods where the safe path is demarcated by these deliciously cheesy statues that are a cross between a garden gnome and Dopey from Snow White and the Seven Dwarves.

Finally you walk along a babbling brook to the boundary wall as we like to call it. All I can say is that I am glad someone else built it, cause I can just look at it and appreciate it's beauty. Up next: the Ravenous Red Head will post more photos...after she finishes eating my dinner.

Enter Boogie Baby

I have to admit that this was an annoying visit if only because we showed up at 11:30, went into the examining room at 12:30, and still didn't see Dr. M until 1. But seeing a image that made it clear our child had been watching Saturday Night Fever made it all worth it. Hence our latest nickname for the baby, Boogie Baby.

Shervyn also had the opportunity to share his Dr. A cervix trauma with our OB. She laughed, shrugged, and said "Well, it's a good thing you met her sooner rather than later."

Next time: The Lake House.

Take 2 or a 2nd Bite at the Apple

Because we live in the Big Bad Apple we get to visit the OB every 2 weeks for the first and third trimester. Let me tell you about our OB. She is a wonderful, caring, reasonable and very funny woman named Dr. M. A good friend was kind enough to introduce the Redhead to her. Well the second visit was not with Dr. M, but with her partner and friend Dr. A. Dr. A is also a wonderful, caring and very funny woman. But because she is Iranian...there is nothing reasonable about her. Trust me, I know from Iranian. Let's just say I had no choice but to inspect the Redhead's cervix....

Anyway, on a happier note: here is the mutant in all his/her glory at 8 weeks.

The Good News!

At 6 weeks we got our first real look at our latest project: Baby X. Yes, Shervyn expects mutant superpowers and will be sadly disappointed if none are present. No pressure kid.

But it was not so simple.  Earlier in the week we had gotten a cryptic phone call from the nurse saying: "Your hormone levels are too low, you will now be taking progesterone."  No explanation, nothing...so we did what any first time parent in da intrawebs age would do: PANIC! Then we panicked some more, then we researched on da intrawebs and really began to panic.  It was not until we got in the see the doctor a week later and saw the heartbeat for the very first time and talked to our OB that we began to calm down.

P.S., "X" marks the heart beat!