<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8010238</id><updated>2011-07-14T17:52:37.714-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A Baby Makes Three</title><subtitle type='html'>Welcome to Nick and Emily's public baby blog! We started this blog a bit early to capture the months before, during and after pregnancy. We reserve the right to be graphic, illustrative, candid, and honest during this process, and we can't worry how that will affect people or we wouldn't write anything. The disclaimer aside, we hope you enjoy following us through this wonderful journey and hope to bring you moments from our lives that make you smile!</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ababymakesthree.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8010238/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ababymakesthree.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Emily</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/154/946/320/PICT0089.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>32</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8010238.post-111816676991511280</id><published>2005-06-07T10:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-08-31T19:39:44.676-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Underneath The Glow</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;------------------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;I want to teach my child to: bake cookies&lt;br /&gt;------------------------------------------&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;24 weeks, 6 days&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;Since the last post, my blood pressure meds were doubled, we had a Down Syndrome scare which turned out to be nothing after an amnio, I started swelling and they found some protein in my urine. Oh joy! But, they don't have to raise my meds again; thankfully, the level I’m on now seems to be doing the job. Never a dull moment in the life of a preggo. I have my normal prenatal appointment this Thursday, so we’ll see how the protein is then. I have a suspicion the test they did last week was on some seriously concentrated urine. I had emptied my bladder before we left for the appointment, then I drank a bunch of water. But by the time they took the urine it had not fully made it to my bladder yet, so I had to really squeeze it out, if you know what I mean. There is nothing glamorous about being pregnant.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;For example, at this very moment, my pants are completely unbuttoned and unzipped…nothing but a t-shirt to attempt to cover my burgeoning belly. These maternity pants have apparently seen their best day come and gone. They have the stretchy elastic in the back, but a normal front. Stylish, yes. Comfortable? Not anymore. Thankfully, there are only 2 other people in the office to hide from. Unfortunately, they are both men. At least I’ve known them for 5 plus years. They are like family in that sense. They don’t look twice when I walk around without my shoes on. Not many jobs that allow that. The only thing is, being men they don’t tend to notice things like my recent hair cut. They also aren’t the best to talk about pregnancy issues with, although I’ll give them credit for at least asking how things are going on occasion. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;In other news, Nick graduates on Saturday! I am so enormously proud of him. He has gone through these 2 years with flying colors. It’s amazing how fast it went. It was a very smart decision for him to go back to school. I just can’t even imagine him maintaining the extremely unsatisfying career course he was on prior to grad school. This really was a great escape as well as a great leg up on getting that job he really wants, whatever that may be. He’s had some interviews that didn’t work out, but in my mind that means it wasn’t meant to be. So he plugs on, throwing his resume out there, getting more interviews. I don’t want him to hurry on my account, he needs to get a good job no matter how long that takes. Of course, the sooner he gets it, the better. I certainly don’t envy the process he’s going through. I hate interviews with a passion. But he’s good with people, and has no qualms about public speaking. Good qualities to have at a time like this.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;He’s been feeling baby on the outside lately. Not every kick, but a good 1 out of 10. The fact that he’ll be a father soon is a bit daunting, I think. But, with me by his side, he’ll get the hang of it pretty fast. It’s been a long time since I’ve attended to an infant’s needs, so I’ll need a refresher course, too. Thankfully, with years of babysitting, and 6 years of day care under my belt, I’d like to think that I have some natural ability in the kid department. Being that this child will be mine 24/7, there’s no doubt it will be more stressful. That’s a given.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8010238-111816676991511280?l=ababymakesthree.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8010238/posts/default/111816676991511280'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8010238/posts/default/111816676991511280'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ababymakesthree.blogspot.com/2005/06/underneath-glow.html' title='Underneath The Glow'/><author><name>Emily</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/154/946/320/PICT0089.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8010238.post-111654050331605470</id><published>2005-05-19T13:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-10-13T23:46:36.863-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Affording The Unaffordable</title><content type='html'>22 weeks, 1 day&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;It's no secret that we're scraping the bottom of the barrel. Nick's a full-time student with no income for the past 2 years, and my income has dropped to below my starting salary level of 5 years ago. We've only managed to survive because of Nick's grandma pitching in with some living expenses and Nick's tuition. We are extremely grateful for that help. Nick will be done with school in 2 weeks, with an MBA and feverishly looking for a new career. It is a delicate process that should be done carefully to avoid making the bigger mistake of settling for a job that isn't worth the 2 years of blood, sweat and tears he went through to find that dream job in the first place.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So why, oh why, did we get pregnant now, you might ask. I guess you can call us optimists. We had it all figured out. I get pregnant, Nick finishes school, gets a job, gets insurance, I quit my job, have baby. It all makes perfect sense. Of course, reality is, Nick is getting anxious about the job situation. I'm a little anxious, too, but I know he'll find something. I am just hoping it happens sooner than later. I really don't relish the thought of having to work to the end of my pregnancy, but if I have to to keep insurance coverage and there aren't any physical reasons why I can't, then that's what must be done. There's always the possibility of not being able to for health reasons, in which case, it will be brutal, but we'll find a way to pay for continuing my insurance coverage. Now, how we'll pay for rent and food and bills is another thing. It's pretty scary how close to homelessness a lot of us are. We've been living paycheck to paycheck for a while and both of us look forward to feeling stable again. Ooh, and the prospect of actually having money to save? Whoa, that's luxury, man.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another financial element to this dilemma is the baby factor. I have so far resisted tallying up the cost we are about to incur. I look at our baby registry with wide eyes. All of the big ticket items are things we need for baby, there is no debate. Crib, glider, stroller, bassinet. If we don't get those things as gifts, we will be in some seriously deep debt, because as of now, the money needed to buy those things outright does not sit in our bank accounts. Those items are just the tip of the iceberg. Diapers, clothes, toys, etc...all add up. Don't get me wrong, I don't think the burden rests on other people to get us things we need. We chose to get pregnant, not them. So yes, we have to expect to pay for most everything ourselves. Let's just hope Nick's job comes before our money runs out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have long since decided that I will not freak out because I don't have the house prepared for baby by the time s/he comes. It is actually quite liberating. For the first few months of baby's life, s/he will be sleeping in a bassinet in our bedroom for easy feeding purposes. So we won't need the baby's room set up to perfection for a while anyway. So I am not going to be that neurotic pregnant woman who tries to paint murals, lay new carpet and hand make all the bedding. It helps that we're in a rental and I don't want to waste my money on improvements that we don't get to keep. We'll do some minor rearranging and cleaning up of our 2nd bedroom, but I'm in no hurry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's funny, in my mind, all of these issues seem so far away. When I think of the reality that 4 months from now, we'll have a baby, it truly is hard to imagine. 4 months ago, we were just finding out we were going to have a baby. And how fast those 4 months went! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8010238-111654050331605470?l=ababymakesthree.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8010238/posts/default/111654050331605470'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8010238/posts/default/111654050331605470'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ababymakesthree.blogspot.com/2005/05/affording-unaffordable.html' title='Affording The Unaffordable'/><author><name>Emily</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/154/946/320/PICT0089.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8010238.post-111635740485480446</id><published>2005-05-17T11:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-05-17T12:27:11.346-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Attack Of The Clones</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;----------------------------------------------&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;I want to teach my child to:  build sandcastles&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;----------------------------------------------&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;21 weeks, 6 days&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;Apparently women never stop comparing themselves to other women. It doesn't stop just because you grow up and have a life, not even if you're in a committed relationship or married. You always continue to look at the women in the store, or trace your husband's eyes to the bouncy waitress on the other side of the restaurant. It doesn't even stop when your five months pregnant and know that you have a reason to be fat. You can tell where this is going, can't you?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;So I am at Target this weekend, waddling my way around the store, when I realize I am not the only pregnant woman on earth. Apparently, there are other couples who also engaged in wild careless sex this winter. Okay, so ours wasn't exactly careless, it was pretty intentional. But anyway. I know I can't be the only pregnant woman, but what are the chances of bumping into 3-4 others in the same section of a large store like Target...and no, I wasn't in the baby aisle. Hey, I don't mind sharing the spotlight, I actually try to stay out of the spotlight. The thing is, when you're pregnant, it's all about you. I don't mean that I need everyone's attention, but I mean that personally, that's all you can think about, it's all you can do to just deal with what you're going through. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;It is comforting to know others are going through similar experiences, though. Had all of us had a chance to sit and talk, we probably would have had a great time. But since we didn't, my mind wandered to other things like, is she in as much discomfort as me, why is she walking so easily, does she sleep at night, she's probably 7 months pregnant and I'm as fat at 5, and do I even look pregnant like they do and not just fat? There's a good chance that they would hate me because I had relatively no morning sickness, though. But I certainly made up for it in other ways. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;It is human nature to compare. In all likelihood, they were doing the same thing, too. I can just see it now, once I have the baby, we'll all be comparing strollers, our baby's IQs, and of course, who lost the baby fat the fastest. Will the madness never end?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8010238-111635740485480446?l=ababymakesthree.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ababymakesthree.blogspot.com/feeds/111635740485480446/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8010238&amp;postID=111635740485480446' title='12 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8010238/posts/default/111635740485480446'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8010238/posts/default/111635740485480446'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ababymakesthree.blogspot.com/2005/05/attack-of-clones.html' title='The Attack Of The Clones'/><author><name>Emily</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/154/946/320/PICT0089.jpg'/></author><thr:total>12</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8010238.post-111524062952242601</id><published>2005-05-04T13:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-05-04T14:03:49.593-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Oh Boy!! (Or Girl)</title><content type='html'>---------------------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;I would like to teach my child to:  Be patient&lt;br /&gt;---------------------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;20 weeks, 0 days&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;You may have noticed I have changed how far along I am to match my doctor's estimated due date for me instead of the one I have based on ovulation.  So now, I go up a week every Wednesday.  I guess it gives me something to look forward to mid-week!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;Let's see.  What's happened since the last post?  Oh lots.  I am on blood pressure meds and a diuretic now.  Fun fun.  As if I weren't peeing enough. We had our 2nd ultrasound last Thursday! Everything looks good with baby.  Lots of squirming going on in there.  I am feeling baby consistently every day.  I don't think I could adequately explain the sensation to someone who hasn't been pregnant.  All I can say is, it's the coolest feeling in the world.  For now anyway.  Ask me again in a couple months when there's a foot jammed in my ribs.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;As for the gender, had we wanted to find out, we could have last Thursday.  Instead, we had the technician put a 'money-shot' picture in an envelope and seal it.  Now it sits in our birth notebook, begging to be opened.  I think it's torturing everyone else more than us.  That's pretty fun, actually.  I get the most amazed looks when I say we're not finding out.  Seems to be a rarity these days.   I did ask the technician if it was definitely &lt;em&gt;a&lt;/em&gt; gender, as in no half-and-half.  She said, "Yes, no ambiguity."  And since then, everyone thinks it's a boy.  Very well could be, but it's also very possible to have an unambiguous girl on the ultrasound.  We are pulling for a girl, but of course a boy would be fantastic too.  Not much of a choice in the matter!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;I will try to post a belly pic later tonight.  It's funny because I don't feel as big as I look in the pictures.  There's no sucking in this gut.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8010238-111524062952242601?l=ababymakesthree.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ababymakesthree.blogspot.com/feeds/111524062952242601/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8010238&amp;postID=111524062952242601' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8010238/posts/default/111524062952242601'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8010238/posts/default/111524062952242601'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ababymakesthree.blogspot.com/2005/05/oh-boy-or-girl.html' title='Oh Boy!! (Or Girl)'/><author><name>Emily</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/154/946/320/PICT0089.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8010238.post-111325270656205400</id><published>2005-04-11T13:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-04-11T13:55:31.623-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Don't Want To Know?  Don't Ask.</title><content type='html'>------------------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;I would like to teach my child to: garden&lt;br /&gt;------------------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;16 weeks, 1 day&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;If you don't want the truth, don't ask me how I am doing. I am a firm believer in answering that question as honestly as possible. There will be no sugar-coating. The question itself has become such a commonplace habit that people ask it without expecting anything other than, "Fine" or "Great" or "Just dandy". And when they do get something other than that, if they truly don't care what the answer is, they quickly come to regret asking it. You can see the expression on their face change from the let's-pretend-life-is-perfect smile to crap-I-actually-have-to-care-now. It's not that I expect them to counsel me or fix me. In fact, I don't expect anything in return. I just don't feel like lying through my teeth to spare a possibly unpleasant collision with reality. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;This is not to say that I am miserable all the time. In fact, I am a mostly happy person. When people ask me how I am doing right now, I tend to run down the list of pregnancy unpleasantries, which may give the impression that I am unhappy. However, this is just what's going on in my life, and happens to dominate my every day existence. I fully accept it as part of the whole process, and as uncomfortable as it may be now, it won't last forever. Of course, I do have days or moments of misery and am susceptible to grumpiness like anyone else. But like every aspect of my life, I use humor to defuse the tension. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;I guess what it comes down to is that if you ask me the question, you can count on an honest answer, and if that answer is "Great", you know I really mean it. How am I? Great! Thanks for asking.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8010238-111325270656205400?l=ababymakesthree.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ababymakesthree.blogspot.com/feeds/111325270656205400/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8010238&amp;postID=111325270656205400' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8010238/posts/default/111325270656205400'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8010238/posts/default/111325270656205400'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ababymakesthree.blogspot.com/2005/04/dont-want-to-know-dont-ask.html' title='Don&apos;t Want To Know?  Don&apos;t Ask.'/><author><name>Emily</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/154/946/320/PICT0089.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8010238.post-111289603740789010</id><published>2005-04-07T09:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-04-07T10:50:11.936-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Condescension 101</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;------------------------------------------&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;I want to teach my child to: be generous&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;------------------------------------------&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;15 weeks, 4 days&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Calling all nice nurses. It's too bad that a few bad apples can spoil the batch. For the most part, I like the medical team that is providing my prenatal care. But every once in a while I get a bad nurse or bedside-mannerless doctor and it really makes me shudder in repulsion. I sometimes wonder if some of these character-challenged people seek out this job specifically to fulfill some twisted desire to put down their iron fist on those who are dependent on their services. Do they really think their holier-than-thou approach will make any of their patients any more likely to seek their help, or follow medical advice?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It also bothers me that these bad apples don't think that some of their patients might actually know more about what's going on with their own bodies and health than the quick glance at my medical charts will provide them. For instance, I have been going over and over the 'whitecoat' hypertension issue with my doctors for years. It never became an issue until I was pregnant...which I can understand. I've been referred to a hypertension specialist ob, and put on meds to control it. Well, I had my first appointment with my regular ob since starting the meds this week. The nurse takes my blood pressure. "Is it normally this high?" Mind you, she asks this before telling me what it registered. So I naturally ask, "How high was it?" "130/88." A big smile creeps over my face, much to the nurse's dismay. "Um, actually, that is reeeeaaally good for me." She apparently hadn't seen the list of blood pressure measurements of the past...let's see, I think it was 164/93 at the last appointment. The nurse looks at me with cynicism and disbelief, clearly disturbed that I laughed so callously at her attempt to scare me. She hobbles and grumbles her way out of the office, pride wounded and no doubt intending on studying up on the charts better next time. Let's hope.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Unfortunately, this is not the only time I've felt the sting of condescension, for instance my hypertension specialist ob did not come across very impressively upon our first meeting. I am trying to get over it because he is &lt;em&gt;the&lt;/em&gt; guru of his field and has practically trained all the obs in my clinic, including mine, and as such, he is the one they all refer to. In layman terms, there is no where for me to escape. I actually did complain to my clinic about his bedside manners and my ob said, "Hmm, usually he reserves his brash side for us [residents and obs]." She claimed that patients really "love" him, etc, etc. So perhaps I caught him on a bad day or misunderstood him somehow. Considering he met with me for only 2 minutes out of a 2 hour appointment, it's quite possible. I have chosen to look past it this time because I believe his expertise overrules any distaste I have experienced. And so, I will go to my next appointment with him with a big smile on my face and pretend nothing happened. On the flip side, maybe I should be honored he treated me like a resident. He must have really liked me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8010238-111289603740789010?l=ababymakesthree.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ababymakesthree.blogspot.com/feeds/111289603740789010/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8010238&amp;postID=111289603740789010' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8010238/posts/default/111289603740789010'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8010238/posts/default/111289603740789010'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ababymakesthree.blogspot.com/2005/04/condescension-101.html' title='Condescension 101'/><author><name>Emily</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/154/946/320/PICT0089.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8010238.post-111162016711262989</id><published>2005-03-23T14:51:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-03-23T15:22:47.113-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Short Sentences</title><content type='html'>------------------------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;I would like to teach my child: to play the piano&lt;br /&gt;------------------------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;13 weeks, 3 days&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;Dueling blogs. I have to admit I put more effort into my other one, but it's not nearly as fun as I want it to be. That's what this one should be for, but I swear that everything feels like a huge chore lately. EVERYTHING. Thinking included. That's not too far of a stretch either. Pregnant women's brain cells reportedly shrink during pregnancy. Oh don't worry, they'll come back after baby comes, but meanwhile, please speak in short sentences.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am amazed I am already working on week 14. A lot has happened since the last post. We had our first prenatal appointment. We heard a strong heartbeat for a good 10-15 seconds before I started hysterically laughing and couldn't stop. We had an early ultrasound a few days later which revealed I had some fluid behind the placenta which the doctor isn't too concerned about because it usually goes away by week 20, at which point we will be having another ultrasound. I'm not supposed to do anything jarring, but I'm not on bedrest either. The ultrasound pictures were amazing. Saw fingers, feet, pulsing umbilical cord, beating heart. The baby was spinning and barrel-rolling, none of which I could feel yet. S/he was having a grand time in the spacious environs of the amniotic sac. It will no doubt become much less spacious shortly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also found out my blood type is Rh negative. Not a major deal, but I did end up getting a RhoGam shot early because of the fluid in my uterus. I'll probably be getting another one around week 28 or so.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My uterus is making its presence known now. I am feeling it protrude more and more above my pelvic bone. I am excited for it to finally fill in the bloat I've been experiencing since day one. I'm essentially in maternity clothes now, nothing else fits right.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sleeping is an adventure now. I don't remember the last time I didn't wake up to pee. It's also much less comfortable. I'm a left-side sleeper, which is what doctors recommend as the healthiest for mom and baby (circulation-wise). But, I'm used to being able to turn and shift positions. As I'm increasing in girth, that becomes a difficult thing to accomplish in the middle of the night. And staying in one position all night makes me very achy and stiff, with numb legs. Poor Nick. He wakes up to my shenanigans but somehow manages to get sleep, thankfully. I'm contemplating buying this huge 'back and belly' pillow. It's horseshoe shaped, and big. It will make the queen feel like a twin probably. Again, poor Nick.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8010238-111162016711262989?l=ababymakesthree.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ababymakesthree.blogspot.com/feeds/111162016711262989/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8010238&amp;postID=111162016711262989' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8010238/posts/default/111162016711262989'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8010238/posts/default/111162016711262989'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ababymakesthree.blogspot.com/2005/03/short-sentences.html' title='Short Sentences'/><author><name>Emily</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/154/946/320/PICT0089.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8010238.post-110850420643520279</id><published>2005-02-15T13:06:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-02-15T13:52:06.266-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Days of Wine and Roses</title><content type='html'>-------------------------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;I would like to teach my child to: love road trips&lt;br /&gt;-------------------------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;8 weeks, 1 day&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;So our Valentine's Day was uneventful but satisfyingly sweet. I bought Nick a card and a bag of those yummy Ghirardelli caramel-filled chocolate squares because the last time we had a variety pack, I apparently ate all the caramel ones without knowing it. So this bag's for him. He seemed genuinely touched by the gesture. He got me a card and a long-stem rose, which doesn't seem all that spectacular until you realize that he hasn't gotten me a rose for years...mostly because all I do is dry them and we had dried roses all over the place and it got out of hand, admittedly. Finally, I plucked all the dried petals off, threw the stems and stuff away, and will use the petals to accent a frame matting around the poem read at our wedding. That way it will be surrounded by all the date roses he gave me including the one he gave me on our first date. Kind of cool. Anyway, I think he feels safe giving me roses again! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;I slept like a rock last night but when I woke up, I had a painfully full bladder. You know, the kind where you can actually feel it sloshing around as you get up. I don't know why I didn't wake up during the night to pee, but apparently I wore myself out doing dishes last night (Nick's other V-Day gift). Amazing how little it takes now! My back actually started hurting while I was washing them. I felt like an old lady. I still stare at my breasts in the morning making sure the nipples are still big and dark, and the blue veins are lighting the way to them. They are still heavy and the nipples are still sore when rubbed the wrong way (pun intended). So those are all good signs. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;I was away from blogging for a while, some of you may have noticed. I felt like I couldn't write any more until we conceived, thank goodness it only took 2 cycles! I didn't want to risk someone seeing the announcement before we were ready to tell people. But now, most everyone close to us knows, so that's not a problem. The entries I posted earlier are from a different family-friendly journal. This blog is the place I get out the graphic details, and only a select few family members are aware of it. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8010238-110850420643520279?l=ababymakesthree.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ababymakesthree.blogspot.com/feeds/110850420643520279/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8010238&amp;postID=110850420643520279' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8010238/posts/default/110850420643520279'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8010238/posts/default/110850420643520279'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ababymakesthree.blogspot.com/2005/02/days-of-wine-and-roses.html' title='Days of Wine and Roses'/><author><name>Emily</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/154/946/320/PICT0089.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8010238.post-110844583161752395</id><published>2005-02-14T21:37:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-02-14T21:37:11.616-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Don't let this belly fool you! It is mostly bloat and fat at this point. Considering that I have to eat 24/7, I'm not surprised.&amp;nbsp;&lt;a href='http://www.hello.com/' target='ext'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photos1.blogger.com/pbh.gif' alt='Posted by Hello' border='0' style='border:0px;padding:0px;background:transparent;' align='absmiddle'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/154/946/320/PICT0040%20copy.jpg'&gt;&lt;img border='0' style='border:4px solid #660066; margin:2px' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/154/946/400/PICT0040%20copy.jpg'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8010238-110844583161752395?l=ababymakesthree.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ababymakesthree.blogspot.com/feeds/110844583161752395/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8010238&amp;postID=110844583161752395' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8010238/posts/default/110844583161752395'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8010238/posts/default/110844583161752395'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ababymakesthree.blogspot.com/2005/02/dont-let-this-belly-fool-you-it-is.html' title=''/><author><name>Emily</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/154/946/320/PICT0089.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8010238.post-110841760770942421</id><published>2005-02-14T13:18:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-02-14T13:46:47.713-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Bond...Baby Bond.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;At what point will I actually start to talk to the baby without it being a conscious effort?  Right now, I just feel like I have a physical condition that causes certain symptoms.  I have to really think hard about the fact that there is a baby in there and that it has a beating heart.  And when I do, I get all mushy and sappy and amazed at what's going on inside.  I think the bonding will begin in earnest at our first appointment in a couple weeks when we get to hear a heartbeat and maybe even see the baby.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;I am 8 weeks today.  How time flies when you're having fun!  I have to admit I'll feel pretty darn lucky if I can make it without puking.  The fatigue has me really down lately though.  I'm just tired of not getting anything done.  I'm supposed to be Nick's support person while he's in school and he's ended up being mine.  I'm going to try to clean the kitchen tonight as a Valentine's Day gift.  Yeah, I know.  Well, when you don't have any money or energy you have to be creative.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8010238-110841760770942421?l=ababymakesthree.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ababymakesthree.blogspot.com/feeds/110841760770942421/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8010238&amp;postID=110841760770942421' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8010238/posts/default/110841760770942421'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8010238/posts/default/110841760770942421'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ababymakesthree.blogspot.com/2005/02/bondbaby-bond.html' title='Bond...Baby Bond.'/><author><name>Emily</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/154/946/320/PICT0089.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8010238.post-110835609765056104</id><published>2005-02-13T20:32:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-02-13T20:56:29.666-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Since I took the test....</title><content type='html'>Saturday, February 12, 2005&lt;br /&gt;7 weeks, 5 days&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am so thankful to have Nick's help. It's hard because I've got no energy and I hate having to sit down ALL the time to rest. I have things I want to do and need to get done and it bothers me that I'm useless. After work, I virtually collapse. It's a hard adjustment for both of us now that I'm so dependent on help to do the simplest things like eat. I am really looking forward to that 2nd trimester energy everyone talks about. I want to resume some of the every day things I'm used to doing. I took a picture of my ever-fattening gut today. It's mostly bloat and fat though. I can't believe how fat I look. All that eating I'm forced to do, I guess it's going somewhere. ;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thursday, February 10, 2005&lt;br /&gt;7 weeks, 3 days&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We have been having such great sunny days lately, it makes me really want Spring to arrive soon! :) The downside is having to scrape the car every morning though.Yesterday, I had a near-fainting spell. I had just started to feel the need to eat when all of a sudden the blood drained from my head and I got dizzy and shaky and thought I was about to lose consciousness. I managed to hang in there, but was shaky for a while. Once I got some food in my stomach, I started to recover. I guess I was low on protein and I probably had a sugar crash from the waffles I had for breakfast. I feel like I've been eating all the time. But apparently, I went a tad too long without a snack. I talked to a nurse and she and my dr agreed on upping protein and eating more frequently. It's very exhausting. Especially when you're not hungry.So last night when I got home, I had some eggs, cheese, peanuts and Nick cooked some yummy steak. That should do it! And of course I always drink a ton of water. It sure is amazing how demanding this little bean is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wednesday, February 09, 2005&lt;br /&gt;7 weeks, 2 days&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been a little down lately. I think it's part hormones, part pay cut. Just haven't had any motivation to do anything. Nor do I have the energy to even if I did. I hear the 2nd trimester is when you get some energy back, just to lose it again in the 3rd. Oh well! I'll enjoy it while I can I guess! :) I have a bit of nausea every day, usually if I need to eat something. It's hard to eat when you feel sick, but if I do, I usually start to feel better some. It's truly exhausting to have to think about every bite you put in your mouth, whether it's good for baby or not. Eating is quite the event that way! Poor Nick has to think that way now too. We practically have to cook everything until it's burnt, poor Nick. Oh well, it never hurts to eat healthy, it just takes more time and effort.Nick has been so busy with school that we haven't had much time to sit and work out the hospital tour issue. There's a tour next week for my clinic's hospital that we'll try to make. Just have to find a way to leave a little early without telling the boss why. Oh goody! Evasion Tactics 101.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Friday, February 04, 2005&lt;br /&gt;6 weeks, 4 days&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nick and I have been increasing our walks this week. Although it feels harder than normal, I feel better overall. It takes everything I have just to walk around the block, because my fatigue hits so hard. I take a bit longer, have to catch my breath more, but I sleep better and it's good for the baby. I feel like my symptoms are morphing, too. Less heartburn, less tender breasts, but more peeing and the nausea is picking up. The psychological part of accepting I'm pregnant and that I have enough symptoms to prove it is slow in coming. I kind of feel like I'm holding out for that first appointment when they hopefully say, "Yup, you're pregnant, and everything's fine." As for the nausea...the past few days, it has hit around late morning, usually goes away if I eat something. But it's hard to eat when you feel like throwing up. Meanwhile, I'm having fun with the registries. It's a mix of dream items and necessities. I'm gonna put lots on there so that people have plenty of options.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thursday, February 03, 2005&lt;br /&gt;6 weeks, 3 days&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A nurse FINALLY called me back yesterday! I scheduled our first appointment for 2.28.05. It will be a big one, lots of tests and stuff, but we should be able to hear a heartbeat by then! Still haven't decided if we'll be delivering at my clinic's hospital or not. I would like to tour a few just to make sure we pick the right one. I don't think we'll get it done in time to pick a new doctor for our first appointment, so we'll keep the appointment we have for now.The nurse gave me a 20 minute talk on what I can't do or eat now. No hot dogs, luncheon meat, etc, unless served steaming hot...no delis, salad bars...no soft cheese...no shark, swordfish, tilefish, king mackeral, no fresh/frozen salmon steaks...if less than 130lbs (I wish) only less than 1 can of tuna/week...no hot tubs...no overheating during exercise...and of course no alcohol or drugs. I have to call them before using any over the counter cold medicines, too. So after I heard I couldn't have deli meat, I couldn't eat my ham sandwich at lunch yesterday! I'm going to have to be extra creative, I guess. There is a great place up the street that has the best hot sandwiches, but I can't afford to eat there every day.The nurse also tried to calculate my due date. I told her I had a pretty good idea of when I ovulated, and it wasn't the standard day 14. It was around day 19. BUT, she said they use the day 14, although she added a couple days to it and gave me 9.23.05. I would bet on them changing it back to my calculation of 9.26.05 eventually. And if they move my due date and it matches the baby's development, I'm fine with that. For my journaling purposes, I'm using the 9.26.05 date, though, until confirmed otherwise.I managed to force myself out for a walk last night, even though I really didn't feel good. I feel good this morning and will try to get another walk in tonight, too. Even though I feel the way I do, I'm still having the "I don't feel pregnant" times. I look forward to having the pregnancy confirmed and knowing that everything's going fine. Not too much longer until we know for sure! :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wednesday, February 02, 2005&lt;br /&gt;6 weeks, 2 days&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm still playing phone tag with my nurse. Apparently you have to go through a nurse to set up an appointment with an ob/gyn. You can't just make one with the receptionist, I guess. Don't quite understand that policy, but okay. I'm probably not going to use the hospital my doctor is affiliated with anyway, but I just need to get that first appointment in while we search for another doctor.Unfortunately, we got quite the substantial pay cuts at work, so I have been depressed about that lately. For the first time, I feel like I don't know how we'll make it. I mean, we were scraping the bottom of the barrel before the pay cut. Our boss says he hopes to restore salaries within a few months, let's hope. It sure is amazing timing, huh?As for me, I'm still having symptoms. Lately, I've been feeling weaker than normal, even after eating a decent meal. I don't know if I'm just not getting enough iron or what. I had a rough morning today, woke up early to go to the bathroom, felt sick, had bad heartburn/indigestion, and was absolutely starving. I still feel unsettled and the heartburn is lingering. But so far no vomiting! I hope I don't have to experience that side of pregnancy! :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thursday, January 27, 2005&lt;br /&gt;5 weeks, 3 days&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wow, I got 9 hours of sleep last night! And I'm still tired! I have been having pretty crazy dreams lately. I always have dreams, but never this consistently. Just about every night lately I've had several memorable dreams in a row. So far only one has been pregnancy related. As for how I'm feeling, overall not bad. I have moments of "I don't feel so good", but no sickness to speak of. Still have an occasional cramp now and then, but I think I should just get used to that. As for mentally, I'm still trying to wrap my head around the fact that I'm pregnant. I think it may not totally sink in until I see an ob/gyn. But I am very happy, and have moments throughout the day where I am in awe of what is going on inside me. Sometime this week, if not already, there should be a little heart beating. That's what really blows my mind. I'm having a great time absorbing the science behind it all and reading my daily update on the latest developments in the embryo. Things are happening at a rapid fire pace.Meanwhile, a nurse finally called back, although I was at work and couldn't get the call. I'll continue to play phonetag but while I'm doing that, we'll start checking out some hospitals since I probably won't be using the one my regular clinic is linked to. I may take the first appointment through them while we search for something else.Oh, and a friend of ours, Jenni, has been kind enough to offer me the use of her pregnancy books and fetal heart monitor! I am so thankful. That will be so helpful considering the tight financial situation we're in currently. I was just about to go on a major book shopping spree too! Thanks, Jenni!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tuesday, January 25, 2005&lt;br /&gt;5 weeks, 1 day&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I called my doctor last week to give them the news and hopefully get some direction on how to choose an obstetrician. They haven't called me back yet, so I'll be trying them again soon. It's quite the overwhelming task to pick an ob. But the general rule is to pick a hospital first, then the ob. So we'll be looking around for a hospital somewhat soon. Obviously, we've never done this before so it will be an interesting experience. I hope the search is short! Once we find an ob, we'll get that first appointment set up for when I'm around 8-10 weeks. They should be able to get a heartbeat by then, so that will be exciting.As for me, I had a dizzy spell at work yesterday afternoon. Fortunately, I didn't pass out or anything, just had to take a deep breath. And I also felt just a wee bit of nausea last night after dinner, everything stayed down though. I feel good this morning, but so far the days haven't really been a problem. It's the evenings when the fatigue hits. I guess that's for the best!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Monday, January 24, 2005&lt;br /&gt;5 weeks, 0 days&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today I have made it through 5 weeks. At this moment, I don't feel particularly pregnant. Of course, I am, but it's hard to suppress the 'what-ifs'. I still don't have any real nausea to speak of. Not that I want it. I just have to trust that things are doing what they're supposed to and when I finally get to the doctor it will be confirmed with a heartbeat. The heart is supposed to start beating this week if it hasn't already. It's a primitive heart, but it performs the same functions as a fully-developed heart, but in smaller quantity...distributing blood and nutrients throughout the embryo. Amazing how fast it happens.As of yesterday, the parents know I'm pregnant. I don't know if they remember when they told their parents they were having a baby, but it's a little weird. It's a mix of excitement and embarrassment. Why embarrassment? Well, it's just the whole, this is proof we've had sex thing, which is something you never want your parents to know. Kind of like how you don't want to know about your parents. But overall, it is a happy time and our parents are very excited. It is something to look forward to and I'm glad we have relatives here to share in the experience with us. I'm sure time will fly!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Friday, January 21, 2005&lt;br /&gt;4 weeks 4 days&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's a very weird feeling when I forget I'm pregnant and then all of a sudden realize it again. I won't be able to do that for too long! I have to remind myself every morning when I wake up. And that's despite the obvious symptoms I'm feeling! I've been having some off and on waves of menstrual-like cramps just about every day. They are painful, but they only last for about 10-15 seconds. It's normal as long as there's no bleeding along with them, and there isn't. It's just the uterus beginning to expand as it will grow to 1000 times its size by the end of all this. It seems to be aggravated if I have a full bladder, which is getting more frequent! Just one of the many joys I will be experiencing! But it will all be worth it. I had another bout of fatigue last night. So far, that is when it seems to hit. I've been a bit more tired during the day, but so far have been able to stay awake, which is a good thing. I don't know if I really have cravings yet, but when we were watching The Apprentice last night, their task was to run a Burger King and promote a new burger. Oh my gosh, all I could think of was that I can't wait to get my hands on a burger! My appetite has increased substantially. I'll eat lunch, then just over an hour later, I'll be hungry again. Can't wait to see what our grocery bills will look like.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thursday, January 20, 2005&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On Saturday, January 15, 2005, Nick and I found out we are going to have a baby! I woke up early that morning knowing I was going to take a test, so I couldn't go back to sleep. We took the test, and waited for the line to show and at first nothing happened, so I thought I had a negative test, which I knew was wrong because of my symptoms. So I gritted my teeth while waiting. About 3 minutes into the test, I swore I saw something show up. I ran to the bedroom for the flashlight and back to the kitchen and aimed it at the test, "I think I see something!" I said to Nick. We put it under the bright kitchen lights and sure enough, there was a line, albeit a faint one. I nudged him and said, "We're gonna be parents!" In typical Nick fashion, he said, "Yup!" and grinned. We are very happy and excited and still in disbelief. Did I mention scared and nervous? That too.I was still wanting to see that dark, no-buts-about-it line, so I caved in and tested again last night and got a very dark, almost instant line. So I am feeling much more at peace with it now, and am coming to accept the truth of it! My symptoms started shortly after I ovulated at the beginning of this month. Without going into too much detail, because of the potential relatives that may read this...sore breasts, high temperature, heartburn, some uncomfortable digestional issues (ahem), and most recently the extreme fatigue has hit. The past few nights, I have come home and it has felt like I have hit a brick wall and bam, I have to go to bed NOW! It hits fast and hard, like I've run a marathon. I am also hungry, and thirsty. So far, no real morning (noon or night) sickness, but some say that won't kick in for another week or so. Joy. What's hard to believe is that we are already considered in our 5th week of pregnancy. By the time you find out you're pregnant you've already gone through roughly 4 weeks! Crazy. Most doctors calculate due dates based on the first day of your last menstrual period, because most women don't know when they've ovulated. But since I've been charting my basal body temperature (temp taken before getting out of bed in the morning), I know the day I ovulated. So based on that, the temporary due date is September 26, 2005. September's a good month! I'm already dying to know what the gender is, but we're planning on waiting until the baby's born for the ultimate surprise! Can't wait.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8010238-110835609765056104?l=ababymakesthree.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ababymakesthree.blogspot.com/feeds/110835609765056104/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8010238&amp;postID=110835609765056104' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8010238/posts/default/110835609765056104'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8010238/posts/default/110835609765056104'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ababymakesthree.blogspot.com/2005/02/since-i-took-test.html' title='Since I took the test....'/><author><name>Emily</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/154/946/320/PICT0089.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8010238.post-110835525392039305</id><published>2005-02-13T20:27:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-02-13T20:27:33.920-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Surprise!  Test taken 1.19.05&amp;nbsp;&lt;a href='http://www.hello.com/' target='ext'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photos1.blogger.com/pbh.gif' alt='Posted by Hello' border='0' style='border:0px;padding:0px;background:transparent;' align='absmiddle'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/154/946/320/PICT0045.jpg'&gt;&lt;img border='0' style='border:4px solid #660066; margin:2px' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/154/946/400/PICT0045.jpg'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8010238-110835525392039305?l=ababymakesthree.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ababymakesthree.blogspot.com/feeds/110835525392039305/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8010238&amp;postID=110835525392039305' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8010238/posts/default/110835525392039305'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8010238/posts/default/110835525392039305'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ababymakesthree.blogspot.com/2005/02/surprise-test-taken-1.html' title=''/><author><name>Emily</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/154/946/320/PICT0089.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8010238.post-109786403856257893</id><published>2004-10-15T10:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-10-15T11:19:02.443-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Time, Time, Time</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ff9900;"&gt;--------------------------------------------------&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9900;"&gt;I want to teach my child to: Laugh at him/herself&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9900;"&gt;--------------------------------------------------&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9900;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9900;"&gt;Let's see...what's new on the baby front? Not a whole lot. I feel like the days are just ticking away right now until we really have no excuse for not getting pregnant. I'm getting increasingly nervous though. The closer we get the more I feel we're not ready to get pregnant in early November and that later November would be better. But really, why am I so convinced that I have any control over how fast we get pregnant after throwing the prevention out the window? It could happen on cycle one. It could happen on cycle 12. There's always a possibility it may never happen.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9900;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9900;"&gt;I've always been ultra-careful &lt;em&gt;not&lt;/em&gt; to get pregnant. And I think most women assume that they could get pregnant at the slightest mistake. I can imagine what a shock it must be to start trying to conceive and not get pregnant right away. It goes against everything we've been taught to fear, as in the penis being a deadly weapon of sorts. It only takes one bullet to change your life forever. And you never know, that bullet may have wrangled his way out of the condom and found its way to your uterus despite all your efforts otherwise. So I guess fate has its own role in all of this and there's only so much you can control. Nick and I have had to plan this child #1 more than we want, but if it works, it will have been a smart move.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8010238-109786403856257893?l=ababymakesthree.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ababymakesthree.blogspot.com/feeds/109786403856257893/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8010238&amp;postID=109786403856257893' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8010238/posts/default/109786403856257893'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8010238/posts/default/109786403856257893'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ababymakesthree.blogspot.com/2004/10/time-time-time.html' title='Time, Time, Time'/><author><name>Emily</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/154/946/320/PICT0089.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8010238.post-109772985283811425</id><published>2004-10-13T21:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-10-15T11:20:15.573-07:00</updated><title type='text'>It's A Small World After All</title><content type='html'>Here is a picture of Jodi and I visiting at Disneyland. Jodi's on the left. The guys refused to be identified...Jodi is a person I met on the baby boards. We had a great time meeting in person and chatting over ice cream! &lt;a href="http://www.hello.com/" target="ext"&gt;&lt;img style="BORDER-RIGHT: 0px; PADDING-RIGHT: 0px; BORDER-TOP: 0px; PADDING-LEFT: 0px; BACKGROUND: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%; PADDING-BOTTOM: 0px; BORDER-LEFT: 0px; PADDING-TOP: 0px; BORDER-BOTTOM: 0px" alt="Posted by Hello" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/pbh.gif" align="absMiddle" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/img/154/946/320/PICT0087.1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="BORDER-RIGHT: #660066 4px solid; BORDER-TOP: #660066 4px solid; MARGIN: 2px; BORDER-LEFT: #660066 4px solid; BORDER-BOTTOM: #660066 4px solid" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/img/154/946/400/PICT0087.1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8010238-109772985283811425?l=ababymakesthree.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ababymakesthree.blogspot.com/feeds/109772985283811425/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8010238&amp;postID=109772985283811425' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8010238/posts/default/109772985283811425'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8010238/posts/default/109772985283811425'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ababymakesthree.blogspot.com/2004/10/its-small-world-after-all.html' title='It&apos;s A Small World After All'/><author><name>Emily</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/154/946/320/PICT0089.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8010238.post-109684696252047294</id><published>2004-10-03T16:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-10-03T16:42:42.520-07:00</updated><title type='text'>30 Days and Counting!</title><content type='html'>Nick and I have finally decided on a compromise. We're going to stop preventing after my next ovulation in early November. That way, we lessen the likelihood of getting pregnant earlier than we'd like, but no guarantee that the little soldiers wouldn't find the egg even after it's supposed to be deteriorating. If we don't get pregnant, it'd be fine, and we'd just try harder on the next cycle. I'm really glad we finally made a decision.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think it was starting to get to me. We're as ready as we're going to be. So, one month to go! It's exciting and nerve-wracking at the same time. Life will never be the same. It will be a good thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8010238-109684696252047294?l=ababymakesthree.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ababymakesthree.blogspot.com/feeds/109684696252047294/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8010238&amp;postID=109684696252047294' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8010238/posts/default/109684696252047294'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8010238/posts/default/109684696252047294'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ababymakesthree.blogspot.com/2004/10/30-days-and-counting_109684696252047294.html' title='30 Days and Counting!'/><author><name>Emily</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/154/946/320/PICT0089.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8010238.post-109649937314033291</id><published>2004-09-29T15:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-09-29T16:09:33.140-07:00</updated><title type='text'>To Be Or Not To Be?</title><content type='html'>Life has been happening. I recovered briefly from the allergy/asthma barrage to only come down with a cold and have spent the last three days in bed with no energy but plenty of congestion and coughing. Yuck. What a waste of time!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have to say I've also been a little down lately hence the very infrequent posts. Things are pretty slow at work so I'm concerned about my job safety. So that gets me thinking about the future and all the ifs and shoulds that go with it. I feel like I'm living on a day-to-day basis not exactly knowing how long this job will last. Although, in all likelihood, I don't see myself getting laid off for several more months, if at all. But it's still got me contemplating what exactly would I do if it happened. My goal is to make it through June at the least. Then Nick gets a job after graduating, and we can have a baby. That's the plan. Granted plans don't always fall into place. So I'm naturally thinking, is now the best time to try for kid #1? What happens if I end up jobless, pregnant with no insurance? Bad situation. Not completely unsurvivable but definitely not ideal. But I've decided that I can't put this off forever. If I waited until everything was just absolutely hunky-dory, I'd never get pregnant. Life &lt;strong&gt;has&lt;/strong&gt; to go on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm feeling a bit better today. The flu-like weakness has gone and I'm left with a cold that's settled in and making itself at home. Icky cough, stuffy nose, tired. I'm wondering if it's because I went off of my steroid inhaler temporarily (with doc's ok of course) to see how my lungs did. The doctor said that steroids can suppress the adrenal gland (of which I know nothing) and it can have a hard time fighting off stuff. If so, maybe my immune system was a little weak and caught this cold. Doesn't really matter except that I did go back on the inhaler to help me get through the cold, so I hope if I go off it again, I don't end up with a visit from Mr. Cold Virus, Jr.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In other news, how creepy is it that we were just at Mt. St. Helens a couple weeks ago and now it's about to erupt! I've been joking that maybe I poked it one too many times when we were there. I hope it does erupt just a little, not enough to hurt anyone, but just put on a little show! They're so few and far between, that'd it be pretty cool to see one happen. I'd love to be a fly on the wall near the crater and watch it happen. And then I'd die, I guess.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8010238-109649937314033291?l=ababymakesthree.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ababymakesthree.blogspot.com/feeds/109649937314033291/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8010238&amp;postID=109649937314033291' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8010238/posts/default/109649937314033291'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8010238/posts/default/109649937314033291'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ababymakesthree.blogspot.com/2004/09/to-be-or-not-to-be.html' title='To Be Or Not To Be?'/><author><name>Emily</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/154/946/320/PICT0089.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8010238.post-109522091923541449</id><published>2004-09-14T21:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-09-16T10:01:14.586-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Beautiful Disaster</title><content type='html'>This is a picture of Mt. St. Helens we took last week. You can see where the lateral blast was. I believe this is the west side of the mountain. Behind us is more of the Gifford-Pinchot National Forest, complete with blowndown forest, now surrounded by the rebirth of life.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;a href="http://www.hello.com/" target="ext"&gt;&lt;img style="BORDER-RIGHT: 0px; PADDING-RIGHT: 0px; BORDER-TOP: 0px; PADDING-LEFT: 0px; BACKGROUND: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%; PADDING-BOTTOM: 0px; BORDER-LEFT: 0px; PADDING-TOP: 0px; BORDER-BOTTOM: 0px" alt="Posted by Hello" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/pbh.gif" align="absMiddle" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/img/154/946/320/PICT0084up.1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="BORDER-RIGHT: #660066 4px solid; BORDER-TOP: #660066 4px solid; MARGIN: 2px; BORDER-LEFT: #660066 4px solid; BORDER-BOTTOM: #660066 4px solid" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/img/154/946/400/PICT0084up.1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8010238-109522091923541449?l=ababymakesthree.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ababymakesthree.blogspot.com/feeds/109522091923541449/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8010238&amp;postID=109522091923541449' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8010238/posts/default/109522091923541449'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8010238/posts/default/109522091923541449'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ababymakesthree.blogspot.com/2004/09/beautiful-disaster.html' title='Beautiful Disaster'/><author><name>Emily</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/154/946/320/PICT0089.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8010238.post-109478423663576008</id><published>2004-09-09T19:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-09-09T19:47:04.746-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A Breath of Stale Air</title><content type='html'>-----------------------------------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;I want to teach my child to: Appreciate fresh air&lt;br /&gt;-----------------------------------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’ve been under the radar lately obviously! I’ve been on vacation for a little bit, but more than that, I’ve been miserable with allergies and asthma for the past 3 weeks. I’m allergic to things like cats (we have 2), dust, mold, smoke, etc… Usually, it’s just the allergy fit here and there and then I’m fine. But this has been the every day 24/7 allergy fit. You name it, I’ve got it. The scariest of which is the asthma. I’ve gone from using my inhaler once a year, to using it 3-4 times a day all in the span of 3 weeks. I’ve woken up every night with a constricted crackly chest and have had to use my inhaler. That’s when you know it’s bad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I went to my doctor on my birthday this week, and was told that the key to relieving the asthma is getting my allergies under control, which I knew. Since I’m not getting rid of my cats, I have to find alternate ways to tackle it. She prescribed Zyrtec to take on a daily basis, then said that if someone has to use their inhaler more than 2 times a week, it’s recommended that they use a steroid inhaler on a daily basis. Ick. Steroids scare me. The pharmacist says that it’s okay because they don’t absorb into the blood stream. I have to puff on it twice in the morning and twice at night. It doesn’t necessarily relieve the asthma like my albuterol inhaler does, but it improves the integrity of the airways in my lungs and helps reduce the frequency of the asthma attacks. Here’s the sticker. My insurance doesn’t cover prescriptions. Total for the steroid inhaler and Zyrtec for one month= $181.80.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I haven’t been able to exercise lately because of the allergies and asthma. So I’ve gained weight, which means I’m not in the best shape to fight the allergies, which means they get worse, which means I can’t exercise, you get the picture. I’m pretty depressed about the whole thing. As we get closer to trying to conceive, I get more concerned that I’m not in the best shape for having a baby. My doctor just emphasized how important it is to be in the best shape possible before conceiving because of all the stress it puts on your body. She’s very concerned about getting the allergies under control before we get pregnant. And I am, too, of course.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don’t want to be one of those asthmatics! It’s not me. I don’t have those problems! I don’t want to be dependent on inhalers to live. I’m hoping I can knock them down with this round of meds, see how I am, and at least go off the steroid inhaler. Money’s not exactly growing on trees in our neck of the woods. It’s sad that people have to sacrifice their health because they can’t afford prescriptions. Who says it’s only seniors with this problem!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8010238-109478423663576008?l=ababymakesthree.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ababymakesthree.blogspot.com/feeds/109478423663576008/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8010238&amp;postID=109478423663576008' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8010238/posts/default/109478423663576008'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8010238/posts/default/109478423663576008'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ababymakesthree.blogspot.com/2004/09/breath-of-stale-air.html' title='A Breath of Stale Air'/><author><name>Emily</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/154/946/320/PICT0089.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8010238.post-109389023618298824</id><published>2004-08-30T11:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-08-30T11:27:04.053-07:00</updated><title type='text'>What's It Gonna Be?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ff9900;"&gt;--------------------------------------&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9900;"&gt;I want to teach my child to:  Play fair.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9900;"&gt;--------------------------------------&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9900;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9900;"&gt;The caramel apple martini was yummy! All of the half that I drank! I don't know why but I couldn't even finish it after all that anticipation. Oh well. The girls' night in was fun. It was sandwiched in between going to the Penny-Arcade Expo. For those of you unfamiliar, that's a game convention; video games, tabletop games, card games, etc. I played in the Halo tournament with my team and we lost. But it was fun. And I was one of only a few females out of the 2000+ guys that went. So I spent Saturday day at PAX, Saturday night with the girls, then back to PAX on Sunday. Exhausting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I'm having a hard time coming to terms with the fact that I'm growing up. I feel like there are imaginary arms pulling me at the waist as I cling to a metal pole as hard as I can. I started to think about the very real possibility that next year I'll be 9 months pregnant, or fresh out of labor when the next PAX comes to town. I was slightly depressed that I may not be able to go, or if I go, I'll stick out like a sore thumb. I mean I already did stick out because I was a girl, but that was okay. Being pregnant playing Halo might be a hilarious sight. It might actually be a little disturbing. But really I'm just a normal girl who likes to play video games. I hope I don't have to stop being me just because I'll be having a baby. I feel like I need to decide what I'm gonna be. Full-on mom that never has fun, or Emily, mom, girl gamer, chef, athlete, musician, gardener, writer. I vote for the latter. Is that okay?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8010238-109389023618298824?l=ababymakesthree.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ababymakesthree.blogspot.com/feeds/109389023618298824/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8010238&amp;postID=109389023618298824' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8010238/posts/default/109389023618298824'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8010238/posts/default/109389023618298824'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ababymakesthree.blogspot.com/2004/08/whats-it-gonna-be.html' title='What&apos;s It Gonna Be?'/><author><name>Emily</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/154/946/320/PICT0089.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8010238.post-109355876079710563</id><published>2004-08-26T14:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-08-26T15:19:20.796-07:00</updated><title type='text'>One More For The Road</title><content type='html'>----------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;I want to teach my child to:  Love&lt;br /&gt;----------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9900;"&gt;AF has left the building. But no being risky this week. I've promised myself a Caramel Apple Martini at this weekend's Girls' Night In.  Mmm.  I was getting a little sad there for a bit about the large collection of alcohol stacked in our kitchen.  I guess that's a sign of how much we drink.  We buy stuff because it looks good and then it sits there looking good indefinitely.  Anyway, when I realized there was a minute chance I could be pregnant, I had to emotionally disconnect myself from alcohol.  I was&lt;em&gt; just &lt;/em&gt;starting to get into the whole martini bit, too.  I really have zero knowledge of mixed drinks.  I'm embarrassed to go into a bar and order anything because I'm such a know-nothing.  I finally had to look up some recipes online so I could make something.  I think it's totally weird that they say 1 beer= 1 shot = 1 glass of wine.  Those cocktails have like 3-6 shots in them.  How people can have three or four cocktails in a sitting is beyond me.  I guess I'll leave the measuring to the bartenders.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9900;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9900;"&gt;I suppose this weekend doesn't have to be my last hurrah, after all, we're not officially trying to conceive until mid-October, but I also want to be nice and healthy for that time.  I'm trying to kick my butt into gear and start lap swimming up again.  That's absolutely the best exercise ever.  I sleep like a baby after swimming, well more like a teenager, because babies don't sleep through the night usually.  It tones all your muscles and increases lung capacity.  And you get to swim in the same pool with some serious athletes, some of which are beautifully chiseled (for the women out there, and the gay men).  I can't say I look all that hot in a bathing suit. I miss my bikini days.  I still maintain my pledge to someday have a six-pack.  Someday=years from now.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9900;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9900;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8010238-109355876079710563?l=ababymakesthree.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ababymakesthree.blogspot.com/feeds/109355876079710563/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8010238&amp;postID=109355876079710563' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8010238/posts/default/109355876079710563'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8010238/posts/default/109355876079710563'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ababymakesthree.blogspot.com/2004/08/one-more-for-road.html' title='One More For The Road'/><author><name>Emily</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/154/946/320/PICT0089.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8010238.post-109340965956812665</id><published>2004-08-24T20:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-08-24T21:57:50.953-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Magic Pill</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ff9900;"&gt;When I first went on the birth control pill a few years ago, my first thought was, "Yay, no more zits!!" My second was, "Yay, bigger breasts!!!" My third was, "Yay, I'll gain 80 pounds!!" No, wait. That doesn't sound right. Why the heck did I gain 80 pounds then? Let's see. Put the pill in my mouth. The next morning I could feel my breasts growing. That's the last thing I remember, the rest is a blur. I think I was so distracted by the new found cleavage that I neglected to look past them at my ever-growing gut. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9900;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9900;"&gt;Once I came around to admitting the truth, that I had increased my weight by 50% in just over a year, I knew what the cause was and the decision was easy. No more pills. So I stopped, the zits came back, my breasts shrunk, and I lost 70 pounds. Unfortunately, not overnight. Over &lt;em&gt;many&lt;/em&gt; nights and days of hard work. My periods before the pill were normal and bearable. My periods on the pill were virtually nothing. I got so used to that that the period after I stopped the pill, I was in for a rude awakening. I knew for sure I was fertile because it felt like my whole uterus was falling out. I'm not sure what kind of pain this might compare to for a man, perhaps imagine one of your testes descending down your urethra? Hmm, I'll have to think about that. Anyway, there's a lot of tissue trying to squeeze out of a very small opening, that being the cervix. The only thing I can compare the uterine lining to is thick grape jelly. I wonder how many people will look at grape jelly differently now. The point is, I've never had periods as bad as since I stopped the pill. I don't know what changed, but whatever changed, it did so big time.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9900;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9900;"&gt;I guess the good news is, I only have 2 left! Nick went to the store yesterday and had to buy some pads for me. What a great guy. That's worse than holding a purse, I would imagine. He didn't complain or anything. I suppose when you're married, there's no need to worry about embarrassing yourself in public. If anything, any women who sees my husband stocking up on pads will be thinking, "If only I could train my husband to do that!" I am lucky, and I know it. I realized that these were likely the last pads I would need for many months. At least that's what I'm hoping. It was a little sad in a weird way. It's like I'm saying goodbye to me as I know it. The me that reliably gets her period every 28-30 days, suffers for 5, then goes back to normal. That's the pattern I know. But I'm willing for change. Change is starting the pill, stopping the pill. Change is not having your period for nine plus months. Change is good, change is exciting. Change is getting something back for giving something up. Sometimes what you get back is greater than what you give. Change is having a baby.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8010238-109340965956812665?l=ababymakesthree.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ababymakesthree.blogspot.com/feeds/109340965956812665/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8010238&amp;postID=109340965956812665' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8010238/posts/default/109340965956812665'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8010238/posts/default/109340965956812665'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ababymakesthree.blogspot.com/2004/08/magic-pill.html' title='The Magic Pill'/><author><name>Emily</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/154/946/320/PICT0089.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8010238.post-109332120389062431</id><published>2004-08-23T21:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-08-23T21:20:03.890-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Top 10 Reasons Why I'm Nervous About Being Pregnant</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;10)&lt;/strong&gt; Once it's done, there's no going back!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;9)&lt;/strong&gt; Vomiting in public, for that matter, vomiting in private&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;8)&lt;/strong&gt; Peeing every 10 minutes, regardless of whether or not there's a bathroom around&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;7)&lt;/strong&gt; Walking around knowing everyone knows you had sex&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;6)&lt;/strong&gt; Having to master the art of karate just to keep people from unsolicited belly rubbing&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;5)&lt;/strong&gt; Needing a tow truck to yank me off the couch&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;4)&lt;/strong&gt; Not seeing my feet&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;3)&lt;/strong&gt; Taking an hour to get comfortable in bed just to be kicked awake again&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;2)&lt;/strong&gt; Hands reaching up there once a week to poke around&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;1)&lt;/strong&gt; Having to push the thing out eventually&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8010238-109332120389062431?l=ababymakesthree.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ababymakesthree.blogspot.com/feeds/109332120389062431/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8010238&amp;postID=109332120389062431' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8010238/posts/default/109332120389062431'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8010238/posts/default/109332120389062431'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ababymakesthree.blogspot.com/2004/08/top-10-reasons-why-im-nervous-about.html' title='Top 10 Reasons Why I&apos;m Nervous About Being Pregnant'/><author><name>Emily</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/154/946/320/PICT0089.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8010238.post-109321346484835186</id><published>2004-08-22T14:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-08-24T22:14:28.410-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Unwelcome Guest</title><content type='html'>Well, AF arrived and unpacked her bags late yesterday, as I thought she might. I'm not going to miss her when she does eventually leave for nine months plus. Granted I'll be trading her for a brand new host of physical challenges typical of pregnancy. Nick is relieved in a way, but he showed all the signs of paternal excitement. For instance, he lost his composure and informed everyone at a wedding rehearsal dinner that I was late! Now, usually &lt;em&gt;I'm&lt;/em&gt; the one who gabs and gabs about everything to everyone, but even &lt;em&gt;I &lt;/em&gt;was maintaining some self-control. So I had the pleasure of informing people that we were likely &lt;em&gt;not&lt;/em&gt; pregnant, but we couldn't say for sure. Everyone wants it so bad, though, I hate to disappoint them! They give you "the look", and I can't really blame them. It is exciting in the not-knowing phase. I would do the same thing to my friends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AF wasn't really late per say, but with the added spotting on Thursday morning, and then nothing until yesterday, it was awfully suspicious to me. It still makes me wonder because I have heard stories of women continuing their period as normal after conception. I highly doubt that's my case but the little 'ifs' still pervade!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Meanwhile, we've decided that we can officially start trying after my last period which starts in mid-October. Ovulation will be around November 1st. So we're trying a little earlier than we originally planned, but that's okay, because it will give us some time to spare if we don't conceive right away. Soooo, I've only got 2 more periods after this one! That is just amazing for a woman to get to that point after 16 years of having periods every month without fail, to realize you're actually going to use your body for what it's designed for. Your body has been providing you with the opportunity to conceive since, in my case, age 12, just on the off chance you might get fertilized. How convenient it would be if we could just turn that function on when we needed it. Alas, our bodies think they know better!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8010238-109321346484835186?l=ababymakesthree.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ababymakesthree.blogspot.com/feeds/109321346484835186/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8010238&amp;postID=109321346484835186' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8010238/posts/default/109321346484835186'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8010238/posts/default/109321346484835186'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ababymakesthree.blogspot.com/2004/08/unwelcome-guest.html' title='Unwelcome Guest'/><author><name>Emily</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/154/946/320/PICT0089.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8010238.post-109302110603341214</id><published>2004-08-20T09:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-08-20T09:58:26.033-07:00</updated><title type='text'>AF, Where Are You?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ff9900;"&gt;For those of you who don't know, AF stands for Aunt Flow, or period. She knocked on my door yesterday and left. I'm getting suspicious because I typically don't get spotting like that without a raging river of blood within hours. But yesterday morning I had pink tinged discharge and then nothing the rest of the day, as well as nothing this morning. Technically, I'm 12 dpo (days past ovulation) today, yesterday would have been 11 dpo. Egg implantation typically occurs 7-10 dpo, so I guess it's not out of the realm of possibility. Another thing not out of the realm of possibility is that I'm officially losing my mind. In all likelihood, I'll get up to do something today and suddenly feel a warm blob makes its way out. Hey, I warned you this was going to be honest, didn't I?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9900;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9900;"&gt;But I tell ya. When you haven't been exactly 100% safe, you tend to get all worked up about little things that may or may not mean a darn thing. "Oh my God, my boobs have grown." "Oh my gosh, I think I was a little queasy there for a sec." "Oh my heavens, I think I felt a kick!" Ok, so I'm not that bad. You get the point, though. And poor Nick. He's been going back and forth: "Could you be? Nah, of course not. Wait...could you be??" All the while sporting a slight smile. I think he likes the idea of being a daddy, but he's not one to wear his heart on his sleeve, so I usually have to pry stuff like this out of him. And we'd be right to be slightly concerned if we got pregnant now. It would mean a May baby, a month before he graduates with his MBA, and likely pretty darn close to finals. But on the bright side, baby and I would be able to keep him company while he studies at all hours of the night! And I'm sure he'd appreciate that! ;)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8010238-109302110603341214?l=ababymakesthree.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ababymakesthree.blogspot.com/feeds/109302110603341214/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8010238&amp;postID=109302110603341214' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8010238/posts/default/109302110603341214'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8010238/posts/default/109302110603341214'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ababymakesthree.blogspot.com/2004/08/af-where-are-you.html' title='AF, Where Are You?'/><author><name>Emily</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/154/946/320/PICT0089.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8010238.post-109297627939112915</id><published>2004-08-19T21:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-08-19T21:31:19.390-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>These are our kittens! Pepper is the boy on the left, and Cotton is the Siamese on the right. She has blue eyes! We found Pepper under our truck about a year ago. He's got a motor function problem with his back end. The vet thinks his mom had dystemper when she was pregnant with him and it affected the development of his ability to control his back half. Poor little guy falls down all the time! But he compensates and when he wants to go fast, he bounces on his two back feet like Tigger! They are both about 1 year old.&amp;nbsp;&lt;a href='http://www.hello.com/' target='ext'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photos1.blogger.com/pbh.gif' alt='Posted by Hello' border='0' style='border:0px;padding:0px;background:transparent;' align='absmiddle'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/154/946/320/PICT0010.jpg'&gt;&lt;img border='0' style='border:4px solid #660066; margin:2px' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/154/946/400/PICT0010.jpg'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8010238-109297627939112915?l=ababymakesthree.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ababymakesthree.blogspot.com/feeds/109297627939112915/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8010238&amp;postID=109297627939112915' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8010238/posts/default/109297627939112915'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8010238/posts/default/109297627939112915'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ababymakesthree.blogspot.com/2004/08/these-are-our-kittens-pepper-is-boy-on.html' title=''/><author><name>Emily</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/154/946/320/PICT0089.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8010238.post-109297552913554981</id><published>2004-08-19T21:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-08-19T21:18:49.136-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Picture Crazy!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ff9900;"&gt;Ok, so I think I got that out of my system. I had to upload some pics for my friends on the board so they could know what I look like!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9900;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9900;"&gt;Don't worry I won't do that many at once from now on...except for....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8010238-109297552913554981?l=ababymakesthree.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ababymakesthree.blogspot.com/feeds/109297552913554981/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8010238&amp;postID=109297552913554981' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8010238/posts/default/109297552913554981'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8010238/posts/default/109297552913554981'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ababymakesthree.blogspot.com/2004/08/picture-crazy.html' title='Picture Crazy!'/><author><name>Emily</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/154/946/320/PICT0089.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8010238.post-109297524029258935</id><published>2004-08-19T21:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-08-19T21:14:00.293-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Nick and I&amp;nbsp;&lt;a href='http://www.hello.com/' target='ext'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photos1.blogger.com/pbh.gif' alt='Posted by Hello' border='0' style='border:0px;padding:0px;background:transparent;' align='absmiddle'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/154/946/320/W%20631small.jpg'&gt;&lt;img border='0' style='border:4px solid #660066; margin:2px' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/154/946/320/W%20631small.jpg'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8010238-109297524029258935?l=ababymakesthree.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ababymakesthree.blogspot.com/feeds/109297524029258935/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8010238&amp;postID=109297524029258935' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8010238/posts/default/109297524029258935'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8010238/posts/default/109297524029258935'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ababymakesthree.blogspot.com/2004/08/nick-and-i.html' title=''/><author><name>Emily</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/154/946/320/PICT0089.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8010238.post-109297511524638150</id><published>2004-08-19T21:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-08-19T21:11:55.246-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Me&amp;nbsp;&lt;a href='http://www.hello.com/' target='ext'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photos1.blogger.com/pbh.gif' alt='Posted by Hello' border='0' style='border:0px;padding:0px;background:transparent;' align='absmiddle'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/154/946/320/W%20695.jpg'&gt;&lt;img border='0' style='border:4px solid #660066; margin:2px' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/154/946/320/W%20695.jpg'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8010238-109297511524638150?l=ababymakesthree.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ababymakesthree.blogspot.com/feeds/109297511524638150/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8010238&amp;postID=109297511524638150' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8010238/posts/default/109297511524638150'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8010238/posts/default/109297511524638150'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ababymakesthree.blogspot.com/2004/08/me.html' title=''/><author><name>Emily</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/154/946/320/PICT0089.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8010238.post-109297475678116937</id><published>2004-08-19T21:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-08-19T21:05:56.780-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Here I am putting my make-up on before the wedding.&amp;nbsp;&lt;a href='http://www.hello.com/' target='ext'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photos1.blogger.com/pbh.gif' alt='Posted by Hello' border='0' style='border:0px;padding:0px;background:transparent;' align='absmiddle'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/154/946/320/W%20411.jpg'&gt;&lt;img border='0' style='border:4px solid #660066; margin:2px' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/154/946/320/W%20411.jpg'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8010238-109297475678116937?l=ababymakesthree.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ababymakesthree.blogspot.com/feeds/109297475678116937/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8010238&amp;postID=109297475678116937' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8010238/posts/default/109297475678116937'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8010238/posts/default/109297475678116937'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ababymakesthree.blogspot.com/2004/08/here-i-am-putting-my-make-up-on-before.html' title=''/><author><name>Emily</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/154/946/320/PICT0089.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8010238.post-109297001949780925</id><published>2004-08-19T19:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-08-19T19:46:59.496-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>This is my husband Nick and me the morning after being married, on the lawn where the ceremony took place!&amp;nbsp;&lt;a href='http://www.hello.com/' target='ext'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photos1.blogger.com/pbh.gif' alt='Posted by Hello' border='0' style='border:0px;padding:0px;background:transparent;' align='absmiddle'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/154/946/320/PICT0089.jpg'&gt;&lt;img border='0' style='border:4px solid #660066; margin:2px' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/154/946/320/PICT0089.jpg'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8010238-109297001949780925?l=ababymakesthree.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ababymakesthree.blogspot.com/feeds/109297001949780925/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8010238&amp;postID=109297001949780925' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8010238/posts/default/109297001949780925'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8010238/posts/default/109297001949780925'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ababymakesthree.blogspot.com/2004/08/this-is-my-husband-nick-and-me-morning.html' title=''/><author><name>Emily</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/154/946/320/PICT0089.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8010238.post-109295391651356047</id><published>2004-08-19T15:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-08-19T16:05:41.140-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Babies, Babies, Babies</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#66ff99;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9900;"&gt;I have officially been obsessed with all things baby for the past couple weeks. I think it's my way of getting myself mentally prepared for it! Our official "trying to conceive" month is going to be November, if I can wait that long! It feels very far away! But it's not &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9900;"&gt;really. Our goal is to have the baby by September of next year. At least that's my goal. Maybe it's because I'm a September baby. Having it too close to Nick's graduation in June might risk us having no insurance coverage if I stop working before he gets a job. Not good! So we're being cautious as to timing, but there's no guarantee we'll conceive on the first cycle of trying either.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9900;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9900;"&gt;I've started charting my basal body temperature in the morning and tracking it on a chart to follow temp spikes with ovulation, just to get the hang of it and a better understanding of my cycles. So far I appear normal! Nick has actually been excitedly participating in the charting! I think getting a headstart talking about it has helped both of us, especially him, to accept the reality of it happening so soon. I want him to feel included in the process and understand what's going on with my body. I do want to be surprised but I think it's more important to know what's happening to my body and if it doesn't happen, we just might be able to pinpoint why so we can adjust for the next cycle of trying. After all, an egg only lasts 24 hours!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9900;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9900;"&gt;I just realized how absolutely strange it is that I may only have 3 periods left before conceiving! I can't believe it! Either the next couple months will fly by, or crawl by. I hope they fly! I think...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8010238-109295391651356047?l=ababymakesthree.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ababymakesthree.blogspot.com/feeds/109295391651356047/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8010238&amp;postID=109295391651356047' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8010238/posts/default/109295391651356047'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8010238/posts/default/109295391651356047'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ababymakesthree.blogspot.com/2004/08/babies-babies-babies.html' title='Babies, Babies, Babies'/><author><name>Emily</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/154/946/320/PICT0089.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8010238.post-109295135999670791</id><published>2004-08-19T14:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-08-19T14:35:59.996-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Read at Your Own Risk!</title><content type='html'>Welcome to Nick and Emily's public baby blog!  If you're wondering, there's no baby yet.  We started this blog a bit early to capture the months before, during and after pregnancy.  We reserve the right to be graphic, illustrative, candid, and honest during this process, and we can't worry how that will affect people or we wouldn't write anything.  The disclaimer aside, we hope you enjoy following us through this wonderful journey and hope to bring you moments from our lives that make you smile!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8010238-109295135999670791?l=ababymakesthree.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ababymakesthree.blogspot.com/feeds/109295135999670791/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8010238&amp;postID=109295135999670791' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8010238/posts/default/109295135999670791'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8010238/posts/default/109295135999670791'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ababymakesthree.blogspot.com/2004/08/read-at-your-own-risk.html' title='Read at Your Own Risk!'/><author><name>Emily</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/154/946/320/PICT0089.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
