Vitameatavegamin

So yesterday was horrible - cold, snowing, sleeting, raining. M. had a snow day, so she decided to come in to Cambridge with me for my first day of classes. Like you do, in miserable weather.

We got home in the dark and the icy rain. M. declined the offer of a hot shower, opting instead for quick food and cozy warm jammies. I, on the other hand, headed straight for the bathtub. After a long warm soak, deciding it was time for quick food for myself, I got out.

Outside the bathroom, the house smelled... well, like Point Judith in August. For those of you who have never had the pleasure of experiencing that scent, imagine a salt marsh at low tide, then add extra fish-smell. Not something that I generally experience in the house. The scent was coming from a pot on the stove... right next to where I proposed to cook up some pasta. hmm.

"Marce?"

"Yes?"

"What is this?"

"Seaweed."

"Why?"

"It's full of vitamins."

"You have GOT to be kidding me."

But no. M. was, in fact, completely serious. Even Gracey was grossed out, which ought to tell you something.

This morning, she felt nauseated for the first time in her pregnancy. Morning sickness? I think not.

They found us

Today, we discovered that the corporate world has found out we're expecting. Packages from Blue Cross, a local maternity shop, and Babies'R'Us have all found their way into our lives. M., being a devoted Mommy, immediately sat down to read.




Actually, some of the stuff from Blue Cross was pretty good - local birthing classes, lactation consultants, that sort of thing.



There's also a comment on first-trimester fatigue: "If you're tired, you might want to think about saying no to going out with friends in the evenings." M. read that aloud, looked at me, and commented, "Think? Who's thinking? I just collapse."



No thinking required.




Lest you think, however, that these are the first pregnancy books M. has read, this is our bookshelf:

And these are just the ones we own. Not the ones that have been taken out of the library - I'm sure there were newly-expectant mothers elsewhere in this town who were convinced in mid-January that the local library had no pregnancy books, because they were all here.

Again, I want to thank all of you who have been in our home in the year or so that these have been on the shelf, and not commented.

Date Night...

Since classes start for me again on Wednesday, M. asked me yesterday morning whether I would like to have a date night, and possibly go see the movie "Milk". Sure. So I found out it's playing in Seekonk at 7:10pm, and we made plans to go.

I got home at 4:30 yesterday. Went into the bedroom, began to change from keep-me-warm clothes into date-night clothes, and was telling M. about my day... turned around, and M. was stretched out on the bed, eyes closed. Needless to say, date night was dinner at home and a video. Bean, you're making your presence very much known from the get-go.

So we'll have our date on Saturday, during the day, before naptime. Who knew that such considerations would have to be made before the birth?

Aunties

Sarah and Jen came over last night for a celebration of their birthdays. Little did they realize the presents that were wrapped and waiting for them...

Needless to say, they're jumping right into Auntie-hood, and are already planning ways to spoil the Bean.

Interestingly, Uncle Mike nearly spoiled the surprise: when we were waiting for Jen to arrive, Sarah mentioned that she'd looked at Mike's facebook page, and the tagline had been "Mike is excited to become an uncle!" Fortunately, after seeing this, and consulting with Jen by phone, they both believed all of our protests that we wanted to wait until Mummy was out of school. (Note: by the time Bean comes along, Mummy will be out of school.) So the looks of shock were real, when the wrapping paper came off. heehee.

Then, of course, we had to call Mrs. Clark. Kudos to Grandma B for not spilling the beans earlier in the week.

And then the belly photography began. Jen couldn't quite convince Marcey to take off her shoes and socks, however.

Our First Glimpse

Our very own blob of static. Or it kind of looks like the pointillistic close-up of an eye, don't you think?

So, as the arrow indicates, Bean is the curvy blob. The ring-like feature is the yolk sac.


This one is actually slightly better of the Bean - the really white part. About 4 1/2 mm long total. On the schedule for this week: arm and leg buds, spinal column, early musculature. By the end of the week, if the Bean has time, we'll work on eyes.


In other news, we had a slight scare last night, with a little bit of spotting. It is, apparently, nothing at all to worry about, and very normal at this stage. We called the midwife anyway, and the staff is AWESOME. Very reassuring, they moved our appointment (which should have been tomorrow) up to today, and were very compassionate with our first-time-parent freakouts. We spent a lot of time laughing with the ultrasound tech, the nurse and the phlebotomist. YAY for compassionate medical care.

And yes, we got to hear Bean's little heart, beating merrily away just slightly faster than Mummy's (a freakishly fast heart rate for an adult, but perfect for a Bean).

Go Steelers!

Carrying on a longstanding tradition, Bean's football education begins in utero. I know it sounds strange to attempt to teach an as-yet-brainless embryo the somewhat-complex rules of American Football... but fandom is really all about heart, and Bean has one of those. Beating already, we understand. And as of last night, beating black and gold.

Indeed, in honor of last night's game, we're considering middle names for the Bean - so maybe Hepzibah Roethlisberger B-T. Or Obadiah Polamalu. Again, we're delving into tradition here - right, Granna?

Today, however, it's back to work, with Mommy painting and Mummy working on her last paper of the semester, and each hoping the other will volunteer to shovel:

Yes, I know. It'll be Mummy. Meanwhile, the view from Bean's room:

Hooray for Family!

Now that all of the parents know (whew!), we'd love to give you the FAQ answers -we know a lot of you are wondering. Just like we were the first time we met two-mom families.

Q. How, um, exactly?
A. We used a healthy, unknown donor through a very reputable cryobank. In answer to the question "Who's the father?", you can say, "There isn't one - there's a donor. There are two moms." (who are SO EXCITED!)

Q. Was this your first try?
A. No. Our sixth, actually, and our second donor. This was, of course, the try that we weren't expecting to succeed. Isn't that always the way?

Q. What do you want to be called by the Bean?
A. Eliza wants to be "Mummy" and Marcey wants to be "Mommy".

Q. Will you find out if Bean's a boy or girl?
A. Not if we can help it - we want to be surprised!

Q. Picked out any names?
A. Hepzibah if it's a girl, Obediah if it's a boy. We're oh-so-Old Testament these days, it's all the rage.

Q. Are you ok with pink and blue?
A. We prefer bright, fun, gender-free colors...if you can find them! Bean's room is primary colors with cartoon animals all over. It's fun.

We know we're sailing new waters for some...ourselves included, but we know it's going to be a fabulous sail!

Thanks for all of the elation, it makes it feel more real.

Nursery

We'd like to thank all of you who have seen/stayed in our second bedroom since this past summer and not pestered us on a weekly basis about whether we were expecting yet. I mean, yes, I suppose we were fairly obvious (not that the room didn't badly need to be repainted), but you all have shown remarkable restraint. Especially since it's been six months. (We have a standing joke about carts and horses.)

But for those of you who haven't yet seen it, or who have missed some of the details, here is our nursery-to-be, bright with primary colors. (yay Ikea fabric!)

Sorry about the photo quality - we were between cameras, so I took these with my cell phone. These also pre-date the cute little table next to the rocking chair (not the one that will stay in there for late-night rocking). The lamp in the image below now sits on said table.

Hoosiers - not just for kitchens anymore! Voilà: armoire and changing table. And with images from some of our favorite children's stories, too:

Week 5

So counting weeks turns out to be more complicated than I would have thought. Most medical practitioners begin their count before a woman could possibly have been pregnant - on the first day of their last period. Apparently, most women aren't obsessive about knowing what happens on every single day of their cycle - who knew? - but they tend to remember the inconvenience of their period. Fair enough, I suppose. So although we know with the closest possible thing to precision when the Bean was conceived, that's not the day on which the count begins. In fact, Bean didn't enter the picture until Marcey was two weeks pregnant, according to current medical counting.

And then we pick up a "what happens while you're pregnant" book. Because they're essentially writing from the embryo/fetus/baby's point of view, their count begins at conception. So we're in a strange place of semi-time-travel, simultaneously in week 3 and week 5.

In other news, Marcey told our Primary Care doc today. Can I just say again how much I adore our doctor? After she finished jumping up and down, and making Marcey promise frequent updates, and laughing that her presence and well-wishes had actually helped us (we last saw her right about the time we conceived), she gave Marcey a whole bunch of good advice and reassurance. So we feel wonderfully lucky and well-cared-for.

It's Really Happening!

Though I'm pretty sure neither of us can believe it, yet. I understand we won't truly believe it until after the Bean is born. (Even then, sleep deprivation can play some real tricks.)

As of this writing, we haven't actually told any of you, yet, which makes it all the more surreal. It's hard for us to wait until a reasonable time, like after the first ultrasound peek into Marcey's belly, which is coming up on January 24th. We've been reading all we can... which is an incredibly huge amount, suggesting that we are not the only parents-to-be who are desperate for an ever-greater connection with something about the size of a lentil. This is the week of heart development, apparently, quickly followed by the nervous system. The Tin Man and Scarecrow would be pleased; the Lion, however, will have to wait a bit.