Sigh. Will has been in the NICU for 8 days now, and he's doing great. He's off of all of his breathing tubes and IV's, he's done with his antibiotics, his jaundice is cleared up. He's breastfeeding like a piranha and sleeps really well. So why is he still in the NICU? Well, they wanted to do a "sleep test" on him last night to make sure that he's really ready to go home. This requires being hooked up to special monitors for 12 hours. They are looking for sleep apnea, irregularities in the heartbeat, etc. Unfortunately, he did not pass. He apparently had a couple minor episodes they weren't worried about, but he also had one they are worried about where he was not breathing for several seconds (not unusual for any baby) and his heart rate dropped. This combo means he has to stay in the NICU for 3 more days and be given caffeine. Then they will repeat the test. Our son is going to be a Starbucks addict by the time he gets home. Joy. This delay is, of course, very upsetting and disappointing for us. If he had passed, he would have been discharged this morning. We are soooo so ready for him to come home. This really is rather torturous. I can't imagine what it must be like for parents of super early preemies that have so many problems they have to stay in the NICU for months! Obviously we want him to be as healthy as possible before we bring him home, but not having him here is eating our nerves. Steve keeps waking up at night thinking he hears the baby crying. I'm a bit of an emotional wreck at times and I'm always anxious and rushing to the hospital to see Will, no matter how recently I've seen him. They let us take his temperature, change his diaper, breastfeed him, and hold him for awhile. That's it. We can't bathe him, play with him, take a nap with him, show him off. Because of the strict rules at the NICU, Steve and I are the only ones allowed in to see him. So we have to rely on pictures to show him to his own grandparents. By the bye, now that he doesn't have all these tubes on his face, we'll be taking some good pictures and posting them, so check back soon for those. In the meantime, everybody pray for lil' Will!

All right. Pull up a nice, comfy chair. Grab a beverage and a snack. You're gonna be here awhile, 'cause I got lots to say. For everyone's convenience, I'll break things up into sections.

Part 1: the BIRTH!

      On Thursday morning, my water broke a little bit. I was sleeping, so I wasn't sure that's exactly what had happened, so I thought I'd wait a little and see what developed. Nothing else happened, so I figured it was nothing. I started having a lot of contractions during the night on Friday, though, so I called the hospital first thing in the morning and told them what was going on and asked what I should do. They said I should come in and they'd check me. So we were going about our morning routine, getting ready for the day, when a few minutes later Dr. Mazarei called. She surprised the heck out of me by calling because she was still supposed to be on maternity leave. I had an appointment for the following Monday, and she was calling to ask if I could come in Friday instead since her nurse practitioner wasn't going to be there on Monday, but she needed me to be in by 11. I hung up the phone and told Steve we needed to leave right then because it'd be cutting it close to get there in time. Luckily we had packed a bag the night before just in case, so we grabbed our bag-just in case-and headed out. We managed to make it there in time and the doctor checked me out, only to find that indeed I had ruptured my water, and told us we needed to go straight to the hospital. She called her on-call doctor, Dr. White, and filled him in. So we headed over to Tri-Cities (a familiar place by now) and checked in. They got me settled in a delivery room and hooked me up to a fetal monitor. I wasn't really having contractions at that point, which isn't really all that surprising considering I was still on my medication to prevent them. Things went on like that for a few hours before we realized that they had recorded that my water broke Friday morning, not Thursday. So we corrected that info and they said, oh! That changes things! So the doctor ordered a pitocin drip for me. That was at 5:00. That was when I consider that my labor really started. I started having some mild contractions, but nothing big. At 7:00, the doctor came in and I was able to meet him for the first time (!), and he checked me to see how dilated I was. In the process, he ruptured the last of my water. I was only dilated to a one at that time, and he said that I would probably be delivering in the early morning. "Seven would be considerate." I told him that Will wasn't the most considerate individual lately, so don't count on it. He ordered my pit drip to increase to a 2 (it can go up to 20). Now, as any of you who have had a pit drip know, you get pretty quick results, and they are never fun. I was planning on having a natural childbirth, but I wasn't counting on the intensity of a pit drip to have to deal with as well as regular contractions. Half an hour later, I was literally screaming for an epidural. I handle pain pretty well in general, but this was so far beyond what I could deal with that it was ridiculous. Steve was really wonderful the whole time I was dealing with the contractions. While I was having one, I'd be so hot I'd start sweating and want all my blankets off and a cool cloth on my forehead. Between contractions I'd start shivering because my body was working so hard, and I'd need to be covered back up. The contractions were only a minute apart, so he really didn't have much time to adjust between each. On some of the more intense ones, I actually threw up everything in my stomach (which is why they won't let you eat anything), and he had to hold my little puke pan and wipe my mouth. Now that's love. We could see via the fetal monitor when a contractions was coming and going and its intensity. The graph goes up to 100, but there's a digital readout that gives you a number the contraction is at. Most of them started quite low, around 10, and shot up to 120 or 130 within a few seconds. It just left me no time at all to adjust to any of the pain. Luckily for me, the anesthesiologist came in about 15 minutes later and gave me a wonderful epidural. I was so exahausted by this point just from that hour and a half of intensely painful contractions that I actually slept for a little while. At 9:30 the nurse came in and checked me again to see where I was, and she got this really odd look on her face as she was checking. She seemed to double check what she was doing before anouncing that I was fully dilated and she would let me rest for another half hour so Will could drop a little more before I started pushing. So, at about 10 she had me do a couple of pushes to see where Will was, then said, "Oh, there's the head right there. Stop pushing, and I'll call the doctor." So then we had to wait for the doc to show up. When he showed up, I said "You gave the baby a time frame, so he had to beat it." They had some people from the nursery be notified that they'd need to come check the baby as soon as he was out, and I started pushing. Fifteen minutes later, Will was born. This was 10:54 PM. Now remember, I started labor at 5. We're talking 6 hours total. Speed racer!

Part 2: Just after the birth

     The pediatrician took Will to the side and checked some things on him, only to discover that Will's lungs were a little to immature to do okay without help, so they wrapped him up, let me hold him for the first time for about a minute, then took him to the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit (NICU). Steve went with them, snapping pictures. About ten minutes after the birth, the doctor was done with me and back on his way home, the nurses were taking all the medical paraphenalia out, Steve was with the baby, and I was left all alone. It didn't last long, but I was thinking "Geez, I have the baby and suddenly I'm not important anymore." I knew this would happen, but I didn't think it would start so soon! A few minutes later the nurse came back and so did Steve. It was only about an hour after they stopped the epidural that I was up and walking (waddling) to the bathroom, so they were able to move me to a postpartum room for the rest of the night. It was a private room with a pull out sofa sleeper for Steve (albiet not very comfortable). We went up to visit Will for a brief time, then headed to bed. They had him on a respirator which covered his nose. He was pretty much dead to the world after his ordeal, and we were awfully beat ourselves, so we didn't stay long. Will is built just like his daddy, long and lean. He looks so small compared to the other babies around him, even though he's not really all that small. He was 6 pounds 2 ounces at birth, 17 1/2 inches long. He's very strong. It's really easy to see his little muscles when he's moving around, and he can even move his head on his own. He's actually in really great shape aside from his lungs. To make a long story shorter, I'll sum-up. We don't know how long he's going to be in NICU, but it'll be probably somewhere between a week and two weeks. He's steadily improving, and is no longer on the respirator. He still has an oxygen tube going to his nose, but it's no longer anything but room air being pushed into lungs. As long as he improves at this same rate, he'll be off it altogether probably tomorrow. He's got some jaundice, but it's not bad and not really that unexpected. They have him under a photo light to counteract that. It always makes me wonder if he feels like a rockstar under all the bright lights. They have a couple of velcro patches attached to his temples so they can put on a cloth blindfold while he's in the light. He really doesn't like noise and light, although he's getting better about that. I haven't been able to breastfeed him yet, but I am using a pump and they're giving him just my breastmilk. They're slowly increasing the amount he's getting and decreasing his IV. As soon as his respiratory rate is a little lower, they'll let me put him to the breast. Steve and I have both been able to hold him for a good hour plus.

   Unfortunately, I'm starting to get all fuzzy brained, so rather than struggle to make sense about what I've got to impart, I'm going to save it for a little later. I'll be sure to keep everyone updated, though!

There is no way Will is going to wait until even Christmas. No way. The last three nights I've been having some cramping, and last night I even had some contractions for a little bit. I also lost a little bit of water. I woke up to find my shorts all wet, and I don't have a bladder control issue (for you wise guys). So, things are happening. I'm still on my meds, and I've been very diligent about my bedrest. What's really interesting, actually, is that I always seem to start contractions while I'm sleeping. Almost makes the whole point of bedrest moot, but I'll stick with it just in case. It's only a few more days. Thank the good Lord. I'm really starting to go a little stir crazy. I have lots of books to read thanks to the library and my mom. But I can only read for so long before I have to do something different. I really just get frustrated because there are so many things I want to do that require activity that I just can't make happen on bedrest. That's what's driving me nuts. But it is just a few more days. I can do it. I'm the little engine that could. Thanks to being so heavily pregnant and having all my organs shoved up into my ribcage so far that they threaten to exit via my throat, I have seriously reduced lung capacity. And I've been congested for about four months, also thanks to being pregnant. What does that combo get you? Some first class snoring! Steve says that my snoring has gone to a whole new level, to the point that both he and Ramsey have a really hard time sleeping through it. He says Ramsey will sigh all night. Tippy won't even sleep in the same room with me anymore. Steve also said that he's amazed I get any sleep at all, because it's obvious my body is working hard just to breath. He says my back arches a little while I'm trying to breath in, and I never sleep more than two hours at a time (that's all thanks to my bladder). This is where that saying about the last stage of pregnancy preparing you for being up all the time with the baby in the middle of the night comes in. I think that of all four of us, Tippy is the only one getting a good night's sleep. I can't decide if she's selfish or just plain smart. I'll go with both. Of course, if I could make it so I got a good night's sleep, I'd do it too.

   I'm so ready to have this baby. I'm so done with bedrest, and being uncomfortable and all that jazz, but mostly I'm really ready to move on to the next stage of parenthood. I'm ready to see what he looks like and hold him in my arms. I'm even ready to deal with dirty diapers and 2 am feedings. Bring it on.

Bedrest is interesting. It's not nearly as bad as I thought it would be, although I'm not really enjoying it either. I fully expected that this much inactivity would make me really uncomfortable, being in the same positions all the time. That hasn't happened, thankfully. And I'm not really all that bored (yet) thanks to my handy-dandy laptop, books, movies, and, of course, the God of TV. It requires much sacrifice of our time. :P I'm 35 weeks today. We're going to the doctor's tommorow for an ultrasound to check Will's size, and we're both really excited about that. The following Monday, we're going in for a check-up and she's going to re-evaluate my condition to see if I still need to be on bedrest. Please, Lord, please take pity on us! I doubt she'll continue it, seeing as I'll be 36 weeks. The hospital nurses and the on-call doctor caring for me said that after 36 weeks they'd just let me have him if I started labor. Even on this constant medication to prevent contractions, I still get occasional twinges of low level, consistent cramping in my utereus. It's not full on contractions and doesn't last very long at all, so I don't worry about it. It's just surprising it happens. Behold the power of my utereus! It overcomes all! It really wouldn't surprise me at all if I go into labor after I'm off the terbutaline and it's out of my system. Starting next Monday, things could get very interesting. I think I'm going to have to change our poll; it's still asking if he'll be born this year or next.

    Steve is handling being a house-husband pretty well, if I do say so myself.  I think this is a really great experience for him, because now he knows what it's like for me (sort of). He was talking to his dad yesterday and Craig asked if Steve was enjoying his "vacation." Steve laughed and said he'd be doing less work at work. Yup. I'd say he's getting it. And I don't even have to eat pasta for every meal. For those of you who don't know Steve that well, the man could live on pasta. Literally. Whenever I ask him what he wants for dinner, I can expect "pasta" in response 9 times out of 10. The Atkins diet would never dream of even setting foot in our household. Of course, I don't make pasta as often as he wants it. That would be just plain WRONG! :)

    The dogs have handled this whole thing a lot better than I thought they would. I figured they'd be their normal selves at home. For the most part, they are, but with a few little changes. They both seem really concerned that I never get up and do anything. One of them is always in the room with me (even the bathroom), and a lot of times they will curl up at the foot of the couch I'm on to keep a better eye on me. The most surprising thing is they are less hyper-aware of strange noises and people going by then usual. There have been several times lately people have walked by or our neighbors have made a racket out in the yard and the dog's don't go haywire. It's amazing. There may be a little bit of growling, a half-hearted bark or two, but that's all. Very interesting. I've noticed with Tippy particularly that if she's on the couch with me and sees something going by, if I pet her she's much, MUCH calmer. But she has to be already pretty close and getting attention or it doesn't work as well. She just needs to be a lapdog sometimes, I guess. Things are going to be mighty interesting when we're bringing home Will. I know we'll all adjust, but it'll be really interesting for a couple of weeks.

Apparently Will is in a hurry. He's definitely made up his mind as to when he wants to see the great big world. On Monday morning at 2:30 I started having contractions. They continued until about 4 when Steve got up to go to work. I told him what was going on and he asked if I needed him to take me to the doctors or what. I told him the contractions really weren't bad and I was fine to get myself down the mountain. So I sent him off to work-land. They stopped on their own at that point, so I went back to sleep. By the time I woke up at 7:30, they were back. I kept having them thru the morning, although they were really mild and not close together. I had a doctors appointment that morning, so I figured I'd keep that and assume that she'd send me to the hospital. Sure enough, the nurse practitioner was pretty concerned and sent me over to the hospital with a good list of stuff for them to do. I called Steve and told him he should come on down and I went to Tami and Ira's to wait for him. It didn't take all that long, since he'd kind of been anticipating the call. By this point my contractions were about 4-5 minutes apart, 45 seconds long consistently. They took my name and info at the labor and delivery unit (I'd pre-registered so they already had all my background info) and said, okay, it'll be a few minutes. I already had to pee at this point, but I knew the doctor had ordered a urine analysis, so I didn't want to go and not be able to pee later. Of course, "a few minutes" was about 90, and I thought I was gonna pee my pants by the end. I'd kind of been expecting that, but I guess I was being optimistic. So finally I got to pee in a cup and lay down on a bed. As any woman having contractions knows, having a full bladder actually makes the contractions worse. So I'd been having a not very good time in the waiting room. They hooked me up to a fetal monitor and did a non stress test on Will. Having a urinary tract infection can cause contractions as well, which is why they wanted to do the urine analysis on me. No UTI, no problems of any kind. The NST (non stress test for you lay people) said Will was completely fine and nothing was bothering him. The monitor showed my contractions, and it also showed all the other monitors of the rest of the labor and delivery unit. Amazingly, my contractions were the most organized and consistent of all the women there except for the one who gave birth while we were there. Several of these other women were in labor as well, but I was still showing 'em up. Go me! :D Except that wasn't really what we wanted to happen. They gave me a shot of terbutaline to stop the contractions, and it worked like magic. Within about thirty seconds I stopped having them, and didn't have anymore. They kept me on the monitor for another hour to make sure it had worked, then sent me home on bedrest. Steve and I drove back to Julian since we weren't ready to stay down the mountain yet (no clothes, dogs still at home, etc.). I made sure that Steve packed a bag for us with some essentials that night just in case we did need to head down the mountain again in a hurry. I just had the gut feeling that that would be the case. Sure enough, 4:45 the next morning I started having contractions again. So we all got up and headed down to Oceanside. Ira wasn't all that surprised when I called at 6:00 to say we were on our way with the pups. By the time we got there, the contractions had pretty much stopped, so we hung out there for awhile. They came and went most of the morning, not really setting up a pattern. About noon Steve decided he'd head back to Julian to take care of a few things outside in preparation for the storm that was coming later that day. Of course, just because he left, things started happening. I started having regular contractions and started bleeding a little bit. So Tami and Ira and I went to the hospital again, and I called Steve to say turn around, even though you're only five minutes from home. Poor guy. Three hours of driving for nothing. They admitted me into the triage room much faster this time, thankfully. They put me on the monitors again and gave me another shot of terbutaline and checked my cervix. The whole nine yards. I wasn't dilated more than a dimple, so less than 1 cm. About 20 minutes after the shot, I started having contractions again so they gave me a second one. Yipee. Terbutaline contains adrenaline, so it made me shake like a leaf in the wind. Hence the "yipee".  Then they called in a prescription for me for the pill form of said shake inducing drug so I wouldn't have to keep coming back to the hospital and told me that if I came back to the hospital within the next two weeks with the same problem, they'd admit me to the hospital and make me finish my bedrest there. Really not what I wanted to do, so Steve and I decided we'd be super diligent about my bedrest. So I only get up to go to the bathroom and to walk between the bed and the couch. That's it. I'm the queen right now, being fed all my meals while reclining on the couch and having all my whims catered to. He he. It would be a lot more fun if I wasn't such an active individual. It's much more of a punishment to me. But it's only for two weeks. I can manage it for two weeks. It's not really that big of a deal when you're talking about the health of my son. In two weeks I'll be 36 weeks, and by that point they're going to just let me have him if I go into labor. So it's very likely that he'll be here before Christmas, considering his haste the last several days. So we now have a two week window to make sure we're as ready as we can be for his grand arrival. Actually, Steve has two weeks to finish everything. Not much I can do. He's on family friendly sick leave for the next two weeks so he can take care of me, which is nice. Then he'll probably be a father within a few days and will have some more time off. So he probably won't have to work Christmas. Cool. And Will will get to meet my mom, dad, sister, and brother-in-law when they're here for Christmas.

   So lots of excitment here within the Vanderburg household! Tune in next time for another fantastic adventure.

I was so good about writing in this blog when I first started it. And I totally thought that after I stopped working, I'd be even better because I'd have more time. Uh-huh. Riiiight. I don't have to deal with losing hours and hours a week to work and that drive, true, but I have other things I do with my time now, so I'm just as busy (if not busier!). I think that's really good; I like to be busy and have things to do. We have so many projects we're working on around the house and to get ready for Will and Christmas that I've got to do something on my To-Do list every day or I'm not going to finish before the baby's born. Again, I'm not in the least complaining about being busy. I'm just a little surprised sometimes by how much we have left to do and how time consuming it is. For example, we're driving to Utah for Thanksgiving, leaving Tuesday. Why on earth would we drive? Are we nuts? you ask. Well, no. We're not nuts. We're going to leave Ramsey with our neighbor Robert. Tippy is always really unhappy there, so we are going to try our best to not leave her there anymore than we absolutely have to. But having someone dogwatch over Thanksgiving is a huge favor to ask, and Tami and Ira have been doing a lot of dogwatching for us the past couple of months. So we're not going to impose. Leaving Tippy with a stranger, like at a kennel, is absolutely out of the question with her fear/aggression issues. She would be completely miserable and might attack her caregiver. No good. So we don't really have an option but to take her with us. She's a really great traveler and knows my parents, so it all works out well. We're also bringing some things back with us from my parents house that we can't ship, like the heirloom wooden high chair that my sister and I used and my dad used as a baby. So, you can see the method to our madness. I'm not concerned about the lengthy drive (it's 11 hours) even though we're doing it in one day. We drove 13 hours in one day to Humboldt just three weeks ago, and I was totally fine. We just end up stopping a little more often for me to pee. Things have the potential to get mighty interesting on the road each way, however. It's going to be cold and rainy both here and there, and we may hit some snow on the high passes. So yesterday I went down and bought new tires for the car that are rated for snow, and we'll be taking our chains. When I got home from getting tires, I painted the walls in our bedroom. That took about four hours. You can see what I'm saying about being busy. Today, as soon as Steve gets home from work, we need to finish cleaning out the gutters (since we'll be getting lots of rain) and we need to move the wood pile. Right now it's sitting out in the middle of the yard, and it'll get so soaked it'll take forever and a day to dry out, and it'll be quite cold by the time we get back, and we'll need the firewood. Ergo, we need to move it.

    If anyone has noticed, I put up two new pictures today. See, I actually took pictures! I just didn't ever post them, so I figured late was better than never, right? Of course, they're both outdated because as of today, I'm at week 33. Of course. I won't promise that I'll get one up for this week, since we're going out of town. Just in case it doesn't happen.

   Will hasn't been as crazy active as he was several weeks ago. It probably has something to do with his much more limited space. He used to summersaults and flail his limbs all over. He hasn't shifted his actual position in about three weeks, he's just left it at kicking and punching me. He's turned so his back is facing the outside, so of course he's kicking my organs. Just what they need. Here, I'm going to shove you into this little tiny space half the size you're used to, make you work harder to take care of me and mom, and then I'm going to kick you! Hahahahahahahah! Thanks a lot, kid. Such a sweet boy.

Will has put on a couple of growth spurts the last month or so, and because of the way I'm carrying him, it makes me look like I'm about ready to pop. He's really high and all in the front. I've had several people tell me you can't even tell I'm pregnant from the back. So anyone who hasn't seen me in the last couple of weeks (which is most of you), you'll be surprised next time you do. I'm hoping I'll have a weekly photo to upload later this afternoon once Steve gets home. I went to the doctor yesterday and she was very impressed with how well everything was going. I'd gained four pounds, which is just about perfect at this stage, and she was super impressed when I told her where to listen for his heartbeat and how he was laying. As she was measuring my belly, she did a double take and asked me how big I was when I was born. I told her nine pounds something (which I THINK is right, let me know if I'm wrong, Mom) and she said that Will was well on his way to being that big. Steve was also a big baby. But we were expecting this, so no biggie. He's really long. His head is resting just above my left hip bone and his body crosses my belly so his butt hits right against my right rib cage. It's been stretching out my ribs on both sides more, which isn't so fun, but it's not as painful as it was at first.

   Ramsey gave us a fright last weekend. Steve was working the morning shift, so he was long gone by the time me and the dogs got up. After I got dressed, I opened Ramsey's crate to let him out (we trained him as a puppy to sleep in a crate and he did so every night until just recently) and I noticed something odd. Usually he's really calm in his crate until you open the door. Then he's like a greyhound at a track. He runs around the room, grabs a toy, runs into the hall, back into the room, slams into Tippy, runs around some more, etc. Well, Saturday morning when I opened his crate he was sitting facing the wall, and it took him several seconds to stand up and even longer to turn around to walk out. And he didn't even walk out, he limped. He was arching his back and struggling to put down either of his back feet. He had absolutely no interest in any of his toys. For anyone who's ever met Ramsey, you know that he doesn't do anything without a toy in his mouth. I guess you could say he's got an oral fixation. When we got to the bottom of the stairs, he couldn't get his back legs to work one at a time on them, so he tried jumping up a couple of steps with both back legs (his front legs were fine) and promptly fell back onto his butt. He just could not climb them. I'm sure you can guess that I was pretty freaking concerned at this point. He had been completely fine when he went to bed the night before. I knew he needed to go out, so I grabbed a leash and went back downstairs and took him outside via our exterior bedroom door. He didn't really have a problem outside, but he still wasn't his usual self. He even managed to climb the five steps to our front porch, so he stayed upstairs the rest of the day. Sitting was really difficult for him; he more just let his back end drop onto the ground rather than lower it. I actually had to help him stand up from a sitting position because it was so difficult for him. I called Steve and told him what was going on, and that I couldn't do anything because I had the taller vehicle, the truck, and there was no way Ramsey could jump into by himself. And also no way I could lift an 80 pound dog by myself to take him to the vet. Not to mention that it was Saturday, so our local vet in Julian was closed. Figures. It always happens that way, doesn't it? Steve said he had a couple of things he needed to get done at work but would try to get off early to come home and help me. I didn't have a problem with this because Ramsey didn't seem to be in any kind of pain; he just couldn't really do anything with his back end. So I brought up his new doggie bed and he slept on that and I tried to kill time and take my mind off it until Steve came home. He did manage to get off about three hours early and we grabbed a blanket to put in the back of the car as soon as he got home. Both the dogs know what this means, and started getting really excited. Tippy was not super happy about being ignored all day, but she was fine. Ramsey tried to walk over to the door, and did make it on his own. He even walked out to the car by himself with a little more pep than I'd seen earlier. Steve heled him get in and we three drove down to the Adobe Animal Hospital in Ramona. Now, Ramsey gets really carsick, even on short drives. Always has. That's what the blanket's for in the back. But this time, he didn't even look like he was going to get sick. Maybe it was that he was laying down the whole time and more able to cushion himself against the turns, not seeing the passing scenery. Maybe it was that his body had more important things to be doing, like fixing his hind end. I don't know. We got to the vet and he just about jumped out of the car and walked (yes, WALKED normally) over to the bushes to pee. We went inside and as we were talking to the receptionist and filling out forms, our oh-so-well trained puppy took a huge dump on their tile floor. Needless to say, Steve and I were pretty embarrassed about the steaming Eiffel tower he left behind. The receptionist didn't seem to mind one bit; she just called for a "cleanup on aisle three" and went right back to work. So we walked over and sat down, waiting for the doctor, and the poor unfortunate soul who had to use a two-handed shovel to scoop our sweet little boy's droppings came out of the back. Just because it smelled good, Ramsey choose a spot right in front of the poor guy and peed, just to top things off. Luckily for us, the doctor came at this point and we didn't have to stare at the significant messes our pooch had made. Ramsey loves being in new environments, meeting new people. Just call him Mr. Social. I don't know if that was taking his mind off things or if he'd just been faking it to get a call ride (unlikely since his IQ is about on the same level as a brick), but he didn't have any problems the whole time we were at the vets. The doctor couldn't find anything wrong with him, and said it was probably that he had just slept funny and gotten a cramp. I figure that's as good of an explanation as we're likely to get, 'cause I don't have a better one. Once we got home, he seemed to be a little under the weather again, but not nearly as bad. By the end of the night, he even wanted to play a little fetch. We decided that, just to be safe, we were going to have him stop using his crate to sleep in. I'd been planning on phasing it out anyway, and had bought the aforementioned new dog bed just for that purpose. He seemed really confused when we didn't open his crate door that night, but slept happily on the floor and his dog bed. He was completely fine the next morning, and has been fine since. I guess it's just one of those things. I'm just very glad we don't have any huge vet bills to face or a half-paralyzed dog or something. Now that I've gone on for several minutes too long about a subject not at all related to babies on this baby blog, I'll sign off. :D

I've been thoroughly bitten by the nesting bug. For the past couple of weeks, I've been going nuts over getting things done in the house, and not all of them for the baby. I rearranged the furniture in three rooms (the game room, our bedroom, and the living room) so I'm happy with it. Steve's jaw just about hit the floor when he came home from work and I'd moved the furniture in the game room and our bedroom, because the main thing I wanted to do was take our huge three piece desk out of the bedroom and put it in the game room. I had to move a bookcase, two couches, several boxes, our dresser, our bed, two nightstands, a recliner, two ottomans, a couple of lamps, and all the office junk sitting on the desk to get things just the way I wanted them. Anyone who's ever seen our desk or moved our bed knows that those two pieces are rather intimidating. But using some smart leveraging and the strength of my legs to drag everything on the ground from room to room, I managed just fine. I really wanted to do it myself for several reasons: Steve's been really busy lately with projects at work, and knowing he had things at home he needed to accomplish in the next couple of months was stressing him out. So I've been trying to do everything on my own that I can so it's less for him to worry about. Also I've been feeling like an invalid because there are so many physical things I just can't do because of the lifting factor and I have zero lung stamina, so this made me feel really accomplished and proud of myself. I'm far from done with all the projects I want to finish before Will's born next month (I'm 95% certain he'll be born in December), but I know I'll be able to finish them all. I'm planning on painting the downstairs bathroom and our bedroom, rearranging pictures, clearing clutter in the whole house, finishing up the photoshopping on the weddings, rerouting the plumbing from the washer to run into the septic tank, making some cloth diapers, sewing a baby sling, and a few other odds and ends. But I've still got seven or eight weeks, right? :D Now, you ask why I consider it nesting if the majority of what I'm doing is not baby-related? Well, the answer to that is simple, my friends. I don't want to look around the house and see all these projects that have been on my mind for months while I have a new baby and NO time for home improvement. It'll drive me nuts. Really. I'd walk around the house with Will and grind my teeth just looking at all the things I really want done and didn't do, and know that I can't do anything about them. So, I'm going to take care of it while I can. Makes sense, eh?

I was at Costco today, and I was appalled to find that they all ready had aisles and aisles of Christmas stuff. Christmas stuff!!!! I can understand it the day after Thanksgiving, but they're about a month early. What's with that? I can understand wanting to be prepared early for the big day and all, but that's just a little bit ridiculous as far as I'm concerned.

I haven't been having any more of those weird pains in my low belly, which I'm thrilled about. I'm going to have to experience enough of that later, I'm sure, so a brief respite is most welcome. I've been feeling pretty good, for the most part. No major complaints, anyway. And at this point in the pregnancy, I'll take what I can get! :D My ribs don't bother me near as much when I'm sleeping anymore, which is wonderful. Heartburn is still a daily companion, but I've worked out how to get rid of it pretty easily and how to avoid it, so it's not so bad either. I'm much more comfortable in general than everyone led me to believe I would be, and I think that's about the best thing that could happen to me right now.