Say CHEESE!

Momma got a new camera!

Daddy Claus and I got the camera Momma has been drooling over for probably about a year now. It just got pulled out of the box and I can't WAIT to experiment with it in greater details in the days to come and to really be able to capture all of life's great moments and memories.

You better believe there will be many, many more photos of the Zooks.

And be on the lookout for a happy Momma, camera in tow. I've been looking forward to this for a long, long time.

Say Cheese!

First newspaper blog

The first blog on our newspaper's website is up already!
In the future, you can visit www.mirrormoms.com to see if I've posted recently. In the meantime, here's the first blog entry:

Extra chromosome, extra special
When our son Zachary was born Aug. 7, my husband Scott and I thought we could finally breathe a sigh of relief.
The nine months of funny cravings, embarrassing hormones and holding our breath in hopes for an easy delivery and healthy baby had come to an end. After three days of contractions and a surprise C-section, we didn’t exactly have the easiest of labor experiences, but in our arms was the greatest reward ever – a seemingly-healthy nine-pound baby boy with big blue eyes and a quiet, easy demeanor.
After two days, we were snapped out of our fairytale with the news that Zack might have Down Syndrome.
While we waited for the results of a chromosome test that first week, we entertained visitors who had no idea of what was on our minds, held our baby close and watched the minutes pass by slowly.
I’ve never been much of a risk-taker, but if you had told me the chances of my having a baby with Down Syndrome at the age of 26 was 1 in 1200, even I wouldn’t have batted an eyelash.
But on our son’s one-week birthday, the hospital pediatrician called us personally to tell us that the test results were positive.
Our new lives had begun. I would be lying if I said those first few days didn’t involve a few tears and more research and Googling than probably was healthy, but we got through it as a family. It certainly tested us.
There’s no known cause for this genetic disorder. It took me a while to accept that this wasn’t something I did or didn’t do as a pregnant woman or in delivery or years before.
It’s as simple as the fact that Zack is pretty lucky, too. Lucky enough to have one extra chromosome that most of us probably never thought much about before.
So far, Zack has impressed not only his family but also our doctors. Babies with Down Syndrome often times have serious heart defects, hearing problems, trouble breastfeeding and low muscle tone.
Zack is the strongest one-month-old most people have seen, lifting his head up for long periods of time, loving tummy time and pushing his legs across his crib with extreme strength. He passed his hearing screenings (after several tries), has no major heart problems and nurses like a champ.
We came out of the first trying week – an extra long hospital stay, watching his little chest heave up and down among sobs in the middle of an EKG and ultrasound at the pediatric cardiologist, and just a lot of “Why Us?”
He gives us hope, our Super Baby, although we realize the road ahead might prove challenging. It could be years before we know to what extent this diagnosis will impact Zack’s life. We hope not at all. It’s our mission, as his number one cheerleaders and fans, to make his life as “normal” as possible and to educate others along the way.
He’s already making us better people.
***

What do you think?
Any suggestions for future topics/discussions?

Have a great weekend!

Bloggity-bloggin' I go

I've decided to share my experience as Zack's Mommy with other parents in my newspaper's coverage area. I went back and forth about whether or not to do it for a couple of weeks before finally bringing the idea to my news editor, who then mentioned it to our managing editor. They loved the idea and, once I get my first post done, it will officially be a part of our parenting/family insert addition to our paper.

My hope is that by taking a few minutes out of my week to share the normal days, the stressful days and the days that test us as a family, that other parents of children with special needs or disabilities find strength and support. I hope it makes a difference and makes the days a little easier for others. Perhaps it will even make the general public a bit more open-minded about Down Syndrome and the people it affects.

We can all use a little education, right? And what better way to do it than through true-life experiences.

Scott and I are trying to come up with a good title, and our best thought so far is "Being a Mommy has its ups and Down"
Cute? Silly?

And what topics would you like to see addressed? Any suggestions?

Wish me luck!

Zack. you made your mommy and daddy better

I have fallen in love with my husband all over again.

I've often heard how a newborn baby, in the best of circumstances, can add stress to a marriage or cause trouble between a couple.
It's been the opposite for us. (See how lucky we are?!)

As the contractions started to wear on my body and mind in the days and hours before Zack was born, Scott's patience and the gentle rubbing of my back and reassuring me of how much it would all be worth it made it that much better.

When we were admitted to the hospital and knew our baby would be born that day, our smiles and giggles in those couple of hours Saturday afternoon made me feel like a little kid again.

Then, when there was a decision to have a C-section, I looked at Scott with fear rising in my throat. He smiled, nodded and looked so strong that I couldn't help but be strong myself.

As my body started shaking in the operating room, partially from nerves and partially from the effects of the drugs and anesthesia, Scott came into the room, petted my head and held my hand. I was calmed. I was a warrior.
Then, when the announcement was made that they were pulling the baby out, Scott leapt out of his chair and peered over the blue curtain in front of me. Such a proud papa already.

When I was in recovery, he came strolling in with pictures of our baby from the nursery and the news of his size and actions. Proud again, but also bringing me into the action.

When we went to bed that night, my body aching, morphine wearing off and exhausted from not sleeping in a few days, Scott kissed me and told me he was proud of me. He was proud of me! It made my heart soar.

And then, the evening we found out about Zachary's diagnosis, Scott and I talked in the dark, holding hands and sharing thoughts. I asked Scott what hurt him the most. He said he hurt for me. He said it didn't seem fair everything I had gone through for this baby and how badly the news must be hurting me and how strong I had been so far.

At that exact moment, I knew our love knew no end. I knew we could overcome anything. And I knew that as much as I loved him in that moment, my love for him would only continue to grow as we weaved in and out of the crazyness of life.

You see, Zachary allowed us to fall in love all over again. Zachary is the newest bond that cements our friendship and that deep-rooted sense of being soulmates that I truly believe in.

I am so proud of Scott.
I love seeing him with his son.
And he gives me strength and love that I never thought possible.

I am lucky and blessed.

The day I met your father

Dear Baby Z -

It was four years ago today, Aug. 3, that I met your Daddy for the first time. You don't get details yet -- maybe I'll tell you all about the lovey-dovey, happy feelings when you're in your teens and about to break some girl's heart.

Suffice it to say, it was a blind date at a baseball game in State College, Pa. A mutual friend set us up and pretended to watch the game as we sat next to each other exchanging small talk and then jokes. I felt so comfortable with this guy so quickly. I literally had my feet up and just kept sneaking glances at him out of the corner of my eye.

That first date went by too quickly.

We had a second date that included him traveling more than an hour -- and meeting my parents for the first time -- to help me move.

Our fourth date or so, in exchange for the moving, I was his date to a friend's wedding.

And the rest is history. A sometimes fast-moving, sometimes up-and-down love story.

We got married last Sept. 26 and I know that's our "real" anniversary.
But for me, Aug. 3 is the beginning of the rest of my life. Just like some other August date (your birthday, silly!) will forever change my life and give me my best job title -- Mom.

Just as I knew I would love your father for the rest of my days, I know now that I will love you unconditionally until the end of time.

Love is the best gift you can give someone. Thank you (and your Daddy) for spoiling me.

Love,
Mommy

Special spot for Mommy-to-Be

I have spent nine months missing out on or being denied the super-exciting Stork Parking Spot at ANY of the places I've parked throughout this pregnancy.

It became a joke with Scott, with us kidding about a teenage boy stealing the spot or someone who just wanted closer parking thinking the likelihood of a pregger lady showing up being too small to park a spot further away.

As time has gone on, we've even joked that we should stand next to the car in the spot (which doesn't even exist at many places around here!)and compare bellies to the person who claims the car.

But then, as Scott and I pulled into the grocery store parking lot last night, I squealed with delight -- and shock. The Stork Spot was EMPTY!!!

We had to veer around the parking lot because we missed the aisle at first, but then we were there, pulling in to the coolest little spot in the parking lot.

It only took three trimesters and until I was within two weeks of my due date before we were able to take advantage of the spot, but took advantage of it we did.

My husband even thanked me for being pregnant. :-)

A tour of the place where you'll be born

As part of last night's birthing class, Scott and I took a tour of the maternity wing and a labor/delivery room at the hospital. It was probably the part of the class we had most looked forward to just to get a visualization of where all this "fun" would take place. Barring any surprise deliveries at home or in a taxicab (OK, our town doesn't even have a taxi), you'll be born at this hospital in Roaring Spring, in a room very similar to the one we saw last night.

It was so strange, and yet perhaps so fitting, to see the fold-apart bed, the baby warming station, some of the tubes and tools that will be used.

Hospitals are a terrifying place to me and, believe it or not, so are most doctors. They mean well and they save lives and do miraculous things, but as soon as I step inside the doors of a hospital, I'm back to the 10-year-old girl who lost her mom in one of those buildings. I'm old and wise enough to know that was a completely different set of circumstances and that this is just a silly fear. (And I really did feel like this part of the hospital was a "happy" place).

Standing in that room, however, I almost immediately felt like I was on the starting line of a huge race back in my competitive running days. I knew the hardest part would be stepping foot off that line, all nerves and shaky feet and doubts and fears, and that soon enough, I'd be in that incredible runner's high, passing girls, doing my best, trucking up a massive hill when that was the last things my legs -- or mind -- wanted to do.

I'm not quite on the starting line yet, but I think I'm definitely warming up, getting mind and body ready for what's to come and telling myself over and over again how much I've put into this moment and how brave I can be when I want something so badly.

And I can only imagine that 'mother's high' of welcoming our son into the world and watching his daddy hold him in his arms.

I've got a great coach, a wonderful support system of friends and family and I know I'm ready for the fight that comes in these mauve rooms with bright lights.

Doctor's appointment today -- fingers crossed for some progress and more good health news!

Baby, we're ready for you...

Mommy and Daddy have both been nesting.

We're wrapping up the last-minute to-do items before baby arrives while at the same time making sure we (and our home) are organized and ready to go for a few changes and a few sleepless nights.

Thanks to Debbie and Calvin (affectionately known as Grandma and Grandpa in this house now), we got a stackable washer and dryer, set to arrive on Wednesday, to replace the busted system that has made doing laundry quite an inconvenience around here. After the new system's in, we'll be doing some laundry and packing a hospital bag, pretty much our very last item to do (other than some heavy breathing, ice chip munching and all that jazz...).

Our fabulous new walk-in closet is complete! It's so amazing and has allowed both of us to feel a bit more organized. I had no idea I had so many belts! Scott had lost track of his shorts! It's amazing how much my handy man helped us out.


We put some finishing touches on your nursery, too.
Our double Z's hang proudly above your nursery door. (Yes, the smoke detector, too!)


Then there's the video monitor that we had way too much fun playing with. We had to sort of ghetto-rig it across a wall in order to hang it above your crib and give us a good vantage point, but after some funny faces and dramatic interpretations in nighttime mode, we think we'll be able to keep a sufficient eye on you.


And your car seat is in Mommy's car! Along with a fun mirror for you to look into and for Mommy to watch you while diving across lanes (just kidding, loved ones!). Daddy was a patient saint and helped to teach Mommy how to put the car seat in and take it out; how to loosen and tighten straps and most importantly, how not to give you Shaken Baby Syndrome (which could have been a real possibility at the beginning of this experience). I think I've got it figured out... you feel totally safe, right?


In not-quite-related-to-your-birth-but-without-it-you-wouldnt-be-here news, we finally hung up a reminder of our wedding day -- a signature quilt made by your Jersey "nana" for us.



And finally, in a bit of sad news, Mommy had to take her rings off the other day. I had made it so far and had done really, really well in not swelling up too badly, but I guess the heat made it an impossible fight. My fingers and hands were so sore and were achy from how tight the rings had become. Plus, we didn't want to get ourselves in a situation where my most important pieces of jewelry had to be cut off. (Two days later and I still have some marks on my fingers!) So, for now, they sit in a box in a drawer in our room. I'm pretty sure your presence in our lives in a few weeks will make my semi-meltdown well worth it, huh?



Mommy's belly is big and falling slowly. I feel you pushing for space and know you're probably as uncomfortable as I am and I want to hold you in the big ole open world.
Your things are ready for you to touch and wear and play with.
There's a stroller and a high chair in our dining room, bottles and bibs in the kitchen and a What to Expect book folded and torn and well-read on my nightstand.

We are ready.
All we need is you.
A lifetime with you.

Mommy and Daddy are anxiously awaiting your arrival... and so are countless other people. You are so loved.

Boyz in the room

Imagine my surprise when I discovered a sweet little baby boy in the crib today...
... nope, not Baby Z!

Our cat Rocky thought this was the coolest bed we've ever given him. He's in for a rude awakening in a few months...






And then, Daddy agreed to give us a 29-week belly pic. :-)



I love my boys! I love my Baby Z2B!

Numbers floating in my mind

I've told a lot of people during this whole crazy process that everything is suddenly seen in a different light when you're on the verge of mommyhood. Everyday activities become something you one day get to share with your baby. Memories are something you share, too, for better or for worse.

16 years ago today my mother passed away in a New Jersey hospital after hanging on, battling, fighting for so long. I wasn't there with her that day, but I remember every minute of that week so clearly.

May 26 has been a rollercoaster ride of a day every year for me. I see it approaching on the calendar and grimace, wishing another year without my mom wasn't about to be added to an already too-big of a number. When I wake up on this day, I never know what Wendy is going to face the day. Sometimes, she's a scared little 10-year-old girl again. Sometimes, she is mightier than all the gladiators in the history of the world and the day barely affects her.

I woke up today and thought I just wanted to hide under the covers. Then, the baby started kicking, as if to get me out of bed and out of a prospective funk. So I compromised, staying in bed for a few extra minutes and telling him some of my favorite memories about his grandmother.

Then, Baby Z and I got out of bed and are facing the day together. He makes me so much stronger than I ever thought I could be. I'm sure that will continue for many, many years.

But I was suddenly hit hard by a scary thought.
I've turned out OK for not growing up with my mom, and for having a sick mother for the years I did have her. But her loss is something I have always and will always feel. It's made me the person I am, for better or for worse. I have that power to impact the baby's life and make a difference in his world.

And as strong as I think I am now, I will promise to only be as strong as possible, to stay with him, fighting tooth and nail for every memory and moment we can share together. There are so many that my mother missed out on that I need to share with him.

And I need him to know what his grandmother -- with the blonde hair, the gray eyes and quiet, funny laugh -- was all about. And how much she loves him and wishes she could be here now.

For the moms... and this mom-to-be

Yesterday was Mother's Day, as you all know. It's usually a difficult day for me, as I mourn the profound absence of my mom and ponder what I could or would do for her to make her day special.

This year, the day was much more special, however.

You see, in a few months, I'll be a Mommy/Momma/Mom/plain old mother. I already feel like one, though, and really, I have since that positive pregnancy test in early December.

A lot of people helped make this weekend special, even though I had to work!

There were the two Mother's Day cards -- my first ones! One was from my Aunt Dot and one was from a family friend. Both of them made me feel so lucky and giddy. They've been prominently displayed in our dining room for everyone to see.

Then on Saturday, I received a package. Not just any package. A bouquet of my favorite flowers -- hydrangeas -- in a cute basket holder from my Godmother, the lovely Aunt Alice.

But then, the moment that finally caused the hormone-driven teardrops.
I came home at almost midnight after working a long day Saturday and had a card waiting for me on the dining room table. My husband was pacing impatiently because since it was a mommy-to-be card, it had to be opened on Mother's-Day-to-be, which was ticking by as I emptied my lunch bag, organized my notebook and papers and started some dishes.

The card was pretty and lovely, and signed from my hubby -- and Zachary, my darling little man who I can't wait to meet, and who has honored me with the title I am most proud of -- mommy-to-be. :-)

There are a lot of special 'moms' in my life.

There are the friends who are moms themselves, who take the time to answer my new-to-this-experience questions, help me register and let me giggle with their beautiful babies. I love you.

There are the friends who aren't yet mommies, but understand what a mom means to me and what being a mom means to me. I love you.

There is the woman who told me that pregnancy was the most beautiful time of her life. I love her.

There is the woman who never had her own children, but has touched the lives of many two and four-legged creatures that are better for having her in their lives.

There is the woman who has adopted me as her own, treating me to lunches and girls' nights out, letting me cry, ramble and complain -- even about her own son!

Then there is the woman whose presence I haven't felt in years, yet suddenly I feel her nearly every time I enter our baby's room, like a cool, comforting breeze that lets you know it will be OK. There's an ultrasound photo on her grave and I'm sure a piece of her, whether it be her laugh or passion or mysterious grey eyes already in my son.

I don't know what sort of mother I'll be, but I certainly have had a lot of great influences. And I can not wait to hold my son and tell him how much he's already loved.

All because two people fell in love...

You would think that if there was any day on the calendar Scott and I make note of each month, it might be the 13th, counting down to our Aug. 13 due date. But we realize that's not a given by any means (I think something like 5 percent of babies are born on their due date?) so we take that with a grain of salt.

We do make a note of how many weeks along we are each Thursday, but other than that, the big day on the calendar is the 26th.
You see, 7 months ago today, I married my soulmate in a little church that I can see from my office window here.

We talk about our wedding day and our honeymoon week pretty frequently, recalling moments the other person missed, laughing at our "whoops" moments and shaking our heads at how fast these past seven (!) months have flown by.

(In another funny twist, Scott and I met in August 2006, so there's a chance Baby will mark our fourth anniversary of being in each other's lives in the sweetest way possible...)

Now, we have just a couple of months until our twosome becomes a threesome and each day that goes by, I can't help but take note of how fantastic Scott is as a person and husband and friend and how wonderful he is going to be as a father (no matter how much he worries about that one).

I want to brag about him a little bit.
You see, he's normally a big of a procrastinator (not like I should talk). We've had our share of projects around the house and they always get done, just not quite on our original schedule. Suddenly, however, we're making huge leaps with our to-do list and it's all thanks to Scott.
Before bed last night, he was already planning what he could work on tonight or later this week when I had to stop him and point out that he's worked on house-related things for 10 days in a row without a break. Between the nursery and the dog fence we put up in the yard this weekend, he hasn't had one day of rest or relaxation, working around the clock until it's too dark to see or until he can barely keep his eyes open, long after I've waved my white flag in defeat.
He says there's not a lot of time to get everything done and I have to smile. Suddenly, my procrastinator has some fire under his tush to get these HUGE things done.

He doesn't show his baby excitement in obvious ways every day, but when he's busting his butt to have the nursery done (three months in advance) or working himself to exhaustion, I can't help but wonder if the Little Man has something to do with his motivation.

In addition to being a hard worker, he's honestly my best friend. He's so funny and makes me laugh all the time, even when I'm stewing about something or just don't feel 100 percent.
I know he'll make his son laugh and I hope our little guy has his sense of humor and positive attitude.

My husband (who is very handsome by the way) is so sweet and loving. He makes an effort to talk to his grandparents as often as possible, is a loyal friend even when he's busy with things and helps out neighbors and strangers, no matter the task. And if his cuddling with our four-legged furry kids is any indication of what's to come, Little Baby Z is going to be loved in every sense of the word.

I look forward to sharing so many life moments with Scott, to raising our children together and to being the best of friends until the end of our time. He is the reason for any smile on my face when I wake up in the morning and for the warm feeling in my heart when I go to bed at night.

And, as if you're not feeling cheesed-out enough already, last night when I was sick and up every hour or so in the bathroom, just hearing him snoring two rooms over sort of comforted me and relaxed me. Just knowing he was there. And then, the one time I returned to bed, he rolled over and without saying a word, held me close, rubbing my back, then my belly and kissed my forehead before he fell asleep.

No words. Just love.

Passenger update -- 22 weeks

Happy 22 weeks!

Baby Z is being a busy, busy boy:

(From babycenter.com)
At 11 inches (the length of a spaghetti squash) and almost 1 pound, your baby is starting to look like a miniature newborn. His lips, eyelids, and eyebrows are becoming more distinct, and he's even developing tiny tooth buds beneath his gums. His eyes have formed, but his irises (the colored part of the eye) still lack pigment. If you could see inside your womb, you'd be able to spot the fine hair (lanugo) that covers his body and the deep wrinkles on his skin, which he'll sport until he adds a padding of fat to fill them in. Inside his belly, his pancreas — essential for the production of some important hormones — is developing steadily.

(From whattoexpect.com)
As if an ever-expanding belly wasn't enough — now your feet are getting in on the act! That's because the pregnancy hormone relaxin, which loosens your pelvic ligaments when you're expecting, loosens every other ligament too — including the ones in your tootsies. In turn, the bones beneath those ligaments spread slightly, which results, for many women, in a half or whole shoe-size increase. So if you haven't already stashed away your stilettos, now's the time to bid farewell — at least for a while. Besides, you need sensible shoes to help you balance that big belly and your changing center of gravity. This week, your baby weighs in at a whopping pound and measures nearly eight inches, about the size of a small doll. But your doll is a living one who can now perceive light and dark. She can also hear your voice, your heartbeat, your gurgling stomach, and the whoosh-whoosh of blood circulating through your body.


Baby's a pound! A pound! A pound!
I don't know what's creepier, the reference to the doll or the spaghetti squash. Hmmm.

Anyway, I have definitely noticed the swelling in feet, particularly when I do *any* physical activity for longer than an hour or without any rest immediately after (aka playing with my niece and nephew, going for a walk after work, etc).

We won't linger too much on the NASTY stomach virus my husband shared with me this week. To say that it was bad for both of us would be an understatement. He had it Sunday night into Tuesday afternoon and just as he was feeling better, I made my first dash to the bathroom. The first of MANY.

The bug seems to be leaving the Zooks at least for now, and all sources say it likely wouldn't do any harm to the baby. The key was to stay hydrated and despite the fact that 90 percent of my efforts failed, you better believe I drank all the water I could muster these past couple of days.

So, here's to solid foods and feeling better!!! Happy 22 weeks to the Little Man!

This is how serial killers are created

I might have blinded our child yesterday.
But it was for a good cause, I assure you.

You see, I was reading some posts on my August Mommies forum board at thebump.com where other mommies-to-be said they took a flashlight over their bellies and felt the baby's movement.
I'm so ridiculously excited to officially feel the baby that I might have tried this little experiment last night. There have been several times, especially in the last week or so that I "thought" I felt Baby, but wasn't entirely sure. It was often a fleeting feeling and pretty light, too, so I just couldn't be entirely sure.

Well the flashlight experiment, round one, was sort of a dud. As Scott looked at me as though I had three eyes, I couldn't really feel anything at all. Actually, I was hungry, but that feeling's a bit of a constant.
I tried the experiment again just before bedtime last night and *thought* I just.might.maybe.could.have.possibly felt the baby, two times, harder than other times, in about the same spot.

Could it have been baby? I'm not entirely convinced, but definitely hopeful.

And Baby? If you think shining a bright light in your face while you were trying to grow organs and all that jazz was bad, just wait until you're older. Muhahaha.

Mommy used to have trouble eating for one

My job rarely rewards me. There's a fair amount of stress, and a lot more negative "fan" mail (and e-mails and phone calls and voicemails...) than the positive kind. However, I've had the opportunity to take something that was really personal and important to me and turn it into an educational experience for (at least some of) my readers: a three-part series on eating disorders, which was printed this week.

I'm my toughest critic, but overall I am pleased with how the series turned out (See Part One, Part Two and Part Three). It took a lot of time and research and a lot of personal strength because of my experience with anorexia and bulimia for seven years in high school and college.

My journey to "recovery" was long and difficult and even now, I can't type recovery without quotation marks. It's not that I'm not eating or haven't been taking care of myself. It's just that I highly doubt I'll ever truly live without contemplating my former way of life at least once a day or several times a week.

I was told a lot of scary facts when I first started seeing professionals, most of them aimed at scaring me right out of my dangerous routine. A lot of it didn't stick with me. Two 'pearls of wisdom' did, however, stay in mind all this time: That the many years of being cruel to my body could mean infertility issues; and that if I ever did get pregnant, eating right and eating right for two could be a near-impossible task for me.

I've proved them all wrong.
So far, she adds with hesitation and that bit of realism that put recovery in quotes.

I didn't just snap my fingers and fall into becoming a mother or becoming pregnant. I spent years gradually improving my eating and exercise habits -- namely, eating more frequently (and therefore more) and worrying about exercise and calories less and less. It wasn't just a quick and easy decision. I had the support of many loved ones, like my dear friends Jeannine, Nicole, Kacey and others and of course with the love and watchful eye of Scott.

It was my love for him and my hope for our future that always kept those evil thoughts far enough away, like the angel voice over your one shoulder, pushing the devil out of the picture.

My eating disorders had even kept me from having regular periods for many years (most of my 20s, really) and when, about 6 months before our wedding, even that became more regular and predictable, it was like my body was letting me know that maybe everything would be alright after all.

When we got that positive pregnancy test in early December, my eating habits hadn't even yet crossed my mind. The first time I questioned myself was about 3 to 4 weeks ago, at the last bit of nausea and food aversions, when Scott very quietly brought up the fact that he didn't think I was eating as much as I could or should be at that point.

I couldn't face him and I ran upstairs to a hot bath and some quiet moments alone. While I still maintain that the little bit of eating that day or week really was pretty much out of my control, I vowed I would never, ever let Scott, myself or any of my loved ones worry that I wasn't giving everything I had to Little Baby Z.

And surprisingly enough, it's been so much easier than I could have expected so far.

I absolutely love my new curves and my ever-growing mid-section.
I'm reminded of a note in a birthday card from my Aunt Dot.

She wrote that she felt absolutely beautiful during her pregnancies with my two cousins and that she always felt like she had company.

It's so true.
Although I can't feel the baby yet and I definitely can't hear his or her precious voice yet, I know with ever fiber of my body that there is a beautiful baby inside of me, depending on me for all of its nutrition and pretty much for its survival.

I speak to the baby several times a day and let it know that it will forever be loved.
And it will never hunger for anything -- literally or figuratively.

26 years ago...

... I was sort of a big deal...
'cause I was born! And everybody loves a baby!

Today's my 26th birthday. I'm spending it the way any mom-to-be should... on the couch, watching a mix of Lifetime movies, classic films with stars like Norma Shearer and bits of the Olympics here and there.

Forget the birthday cake, I've already put in an order with my AMAZING husband for a cookies 'n' cream milkshake special delivery. :-)

Thank you for all of the birthday wishes so far -- I really appreciate them.

I have to be honest, however. There's a birthday later this year that I am REALLY looking forward to...
... so that I can have my own moments like this:








Wendy Rose, born via C-section
2/22/84 at 12:33 p.m.
Hackettstown Community Hospital, Hackettstown, NJ
8lbs., 3 oz. 21 inches long.
PERFECT (especially to her mommy and adoring family who came to check out her chubby cheeks those first few days)

Merry "Mary" gifts for Momma

Momma Z got a surprise in the mail today!

A bag with the word "maternity" was sitting in our mudroom and I just about knocked Scott out in the process of running with it to the scissors to rip it open right in the middle of the kitchen floor.

Debbie's sister, our beloved Aunt Mary, sent me a bunch of WONDERFUL maternity clothes -- a pair of jeans and a pair of black nice pants (that were both extremely comfy), a beige-colored turtleneck sweater that Scott said looked great on me and a long red tie sweater that might never come off my body once it comes out of the washing machine.

Her thinking of me (especially after all of the whining I've done about not having anything to wear and being sick of the same outfits over and over again to work events) really meant a lot to me.

I have an event to cover for work tomorrow that might just be perfect for those new black pants and some laidback things to take care of Friday -- perfect for a new pair of jeans!

This momma-to-be feels like a human being again.
When you're gaining weight, worrying about another unseen human being and planning things that seem equally soon and far away, not feeling yourself, or at least good about yourself is very easy to do.

But I'm back! :-)

Your daddy might be excited.

While your Momma has certainly begun freaking out and getting nervous for no apparent reason this week (I think it's last-minute nerves before your very important appointment tomorrow), your Daddy is so excited.

Case in point?
Tonight, he wanted to start the process of fixing the ceiling in what will be your room. He's taping it tonight (don't ask me what any of this means) and although he's worked a long day and then worked out with his exercise equipment, he still just HAD TO get it started tonight. He's got a day off tomorrow and is planning on using part of that day to continue this project.

I'm super proud to be his wife and I hope you're really proud to have such a fantastic, hard-working, loves-you-already Daddy.

Countdown to Trimester Two

It's more exciting than Christmas, far more special than my birthday... it's almost time for the second trimester -- the time where babies are significantly safer, odds are in your favor and pregnant women (typically) feel like a human being again.

I can't wait. (This is an understatement)

I promise to never rush another part of my pregnancy. (This might be a lie, given what I've seen at the end of loved one's pregnancies... yes, Julie, I'm referring to witnessing first hand your difficult time with complications, swollen feet and discomfort).

I am starting to feel remarkably better.

I don't feel the need for a nap every three hours, although I still am getting 10 hours of sleep. Please remember that those 10 hours are interrupted by pee breaks, friends.

My appetite has gotten better. As in I don't run out of the room EVERY time Scott opens the refrigerator. I've been eating pretty well for the last week or so. It's still not really consistent. One day, I can't stop eating. The next day, I'm good at the bare minimum. (Worried loved ones, I am eating well though, girl scout's honor!)

While the weird aches, pains and yes, squeezes in parts of my body haven't gone away, I think I've become better adjusted to them. I complain about the boob soreness, but c'mon, what flat-chested girl doesn't love buying new bras because the old ones are too small???

It's comforting to compare weird symptoms with women who really are in the same boat as me. On my favorite Web site currently, www.thebump.com, there is a specific forum board for women who are due in August of this year. Our birth month board has more posts and views than any other birth month and one of the women has even created a chatroom that we can visit 24 hours a day. It's calmed me down on more than one hectic occasion.

MOST importantly, however, I'm just happy that we've made it this far with no problems or issues. I'll take a month's worth of constipation (oh yes, I am SO serious) if it means that Little Baby Z is growing right on schedule. As long as he or she doesn't grow an attitude or Pennsylvania accent. :-)

Fertile Mertle and Sure-shot Scott

For as long as I can remember, I've wanted to be a mother.
I've wanted to be a confidante, disciplinarian, homework helper, advice giver and forever friend to someone who shared my blood and my traits (for good or for bad).

When I met Scott in 2006, he was everything I had never even considered to be vital for a life partner. Except for one minor thing.

He didn't want children.

He had been in a pretty serious, life-altering experience with a woman who had a child prior to meeting me and it had shaken him up so badly that he just wasn't sure raising a family was something he wanted to do.

I almost broke up with him.
But I stuck with him... why, I don't know. :-)

Luckily, he changed his mind.

As we planned our marriage last year, we knew we wanted to start trying for a family right away. We were never going to be rich, we had a great home that we had fixed up for a year and a half, and we were young and probably as patient as we'd ever be.

With some of my past health issues, we thought it would take us a while to conceive. We also had some pretty serious talks about not ever being able to have our own child.

You can just call me Fertile Mertle.
In our second month of trying, we created Little Baby Z, a beautiful or handsome daughter or son who is due Aug. 13.

Today marks Week 12. We are one week away from entering our second trimester and being able to breathe a huge sigh of relief.

It's been an interesting road already since we found out about Little Baby Z. through a pregnancy test on a Sunday morning nearly two months ago that was accompanied by a lot of excited shrieking and staring in disbelief at the little white wand.

Miracles happen. We have never known such joy or faced such fear as we already have these past eight weeks. More of both is certain to follow, but we know that we are strong, loving parents-to-be.

We welcome you on this adventure.
It will be full of true-life tales of hormones, bloating, round-the-clock eating, round-the-clock peeing and all sorts of other lovely details not for the weak of heart.
This is meant to chronicle some of the more day-to-day activities and events in our pregnancy, and as a supplement to a written journal with important and more significant reflections we're keeping for Baby Z. to read when he or she is all grown up.


***Special thanks to Ms. AG who gave me the courage (and several reminders) to do this. She even came up with the BabyZ2b idea!***