I’ve started this post about 12 times, but I’m finding it hard to describe what’s going on using regular words. I need better words. I thought about making up my own words, but then someone pointed out that ALL words are made up words and I was so busy thinking about that idea that I forgot that I was supposed to be writing about the thing I didn’t have words for in the first place. But it’s a good story with a happy ending, so I’ll try to tell it with my inadequate vocabulary nonetheless.

On Monday, October 19th, I was 35 weeks and 4 days pregnant, and after a difficult pregnancy and over a month of bed rest I was ready for the pregnancy to be over. Apparently, so was Junior. Exactly half an hour after I had made up the crib as the finishing touch on his nursery I felt my water break. Of course. I should have known he’d be early; he’s a Finley. (more…)

I’ve turned into a Google Monster, which sounds like I grew fur and got a gig on sesame street, but in reality it just means that over the past 7 months I have increased my daily Google inquiries to a slightly insane amount and there seems no end in sight.

I thought I knew what I was in for. You get pregnant, you have all the pregnancy symptoms people talk about and then at the end you painfully push out a crying baby. But every day I think of about 800 new questions and I can’t understand how my Mom survived a pregnancy without trusty Google to hold her hand.

The majority of my questions run along the lines of “is this normal?” because there are LOTS of gory symptoms you never heard about in Gym class and some that even the baby books don’t cover. Is it normal for blue veins to appear all along my torso? Is it normal for my nipples to look like that? Is it normal to throw up only when I eat something orange-coloured? The shared stories and anecdotes on the various pregnancy forums and medical sites have been beyond helpful.

Being a first time parent also leads to many questions asked of my friend Google as well. What is the difference between the free prenatal classes at Peel Region vs the expensive ones at the hospital? What the hell is a birth plan and do I need it? Is a TENS unit for pain relief any good in labour or is it not strong enough? What kind of stroller is best? Do we donate the cord blood to research, or a public bank? I counted and I have already Googled 14 things just today.

One thing I want to pass on here, though, is that even though Google may be a wealth of information, I know I cannot take anything I read on the net as fact. There are some questions I need to save for my Doctor alone (when he isn’t whirling in and out of our 3-minute appointments), but Google has helped me find some truly great pregnancy forums and hear stories of real deliveries and connect with others in the same boat as I am, which is a comfort I can’t imagine doing without.

How has the Internet helped or changed YOUR birth experience? Or did you give birth before the advent of the mighty web and how did you cope? I’d love to hear from you in the comments.

Adam and I attended Mark and Kellie Goodman’s wedding a few weeks ago and I heard one of the greatest wedding tributes ever, spoken by best man Kory Peters:

You two are like two pieces of 8-nubbed Lego; you fit together perfectly and now that you’re together, nothing but a butter-knife can get you apart again.

Check here for Adam’s pictures of the big day.

Right. Well, that was a nice break. Back at it now, shall we?

Those of you who follow me on twitter or facebook may already know, but this little break in the blog was due to a very time consuming life changing situation in our lives recently. After  two false starts it looks like we have finally gotten the recipe right, because we are expecting our first child, a little boy, in November of this year.

It was terrifying at first. Each ultrasound was preceded by such anxiety that I would be physically sick. I was so afraid of going in and finding out we had lost this one too. But slowly, gradually, we have allowed ourselves to hope and then believe that this one is different and now, at 24 weeks, we are preparing ourselves for a baby, not a loss.

I plan on posting more often now that the fear I felt will not be tainting my words and I am allowing myself to relax. We have painted the baby’s room already and I am working on numerous projects to decorate it with (he’s gonna need a bigger room) which I will be happily sharing with you all as well.

I have found that I love being pregnant and each twinge, pain or discomfort only reminds me that there is a healthy baby in there and so I am thankful for all of it. Plus, it’s really cool – being pregnant affects every inch of your body in weird ways and it’s fascinating to experience.

Here’s the little peanut’s second sonogram, at 13 weeks. He wouldn’t turn and give us a nice profile pic so he looks like a little alien just floating there. The second shot she got his face in plane, but there he looks even MORE like a little alien and more than a little scary.  But he’s OUR little scary alien and we love him.

Adam was lying in bed tonight, gazing over at me. I said to him, somewhat coyly, “You’re staring at me.”

“Yes,” he replied lazily.

“Why?” I asked, dreaming of romantic replies such as “because I love you,” or “because you’re beautiful.”

“You’re in my direct line of sight.” He stated simply.

My husband Adam (also known as Bruce) is not an in-the-box kind of thinker.

Me: “I was going to ask you a question, but I forget what it was.”

Adam: “My anwer would have been ‘green.’ Or possibly ‘cookies.’”

So I bought myself an iPhone (yeah, I know) because they’re cool and useful and mostly because I think Adam was going to bite my head off if I asked to borrow his iPhone one more time to play that neat solitaire game while we wait for a train. So now I am able to write you a blog post WHILE I GET MY HAIR DONE – like I am live on the scene. I know, cool, eh? Except there’s not really much to report on since I’m in, well, a hair salon, after all and not much is going on. The hair guy isn’t even here because I waited till he walked away to do this because I feel bad doing stuff while he is trying to cut my hair and making small talk about his dog and stuff. But the point is I CAN write a blog post in the hair salon and that is what matters.

AND… everyone here keeps calling me “Hon,” and that would nomally bother me but it seems quite normal in a salon for some reason.

Wow, what a bad title.