28 photos later...

Besides growing a human being in my body, I also kept up with this little project, and after seeing them all together like this I'm really glad I did. This is documentation of the greatness of my girth from the first week I noticed I looked different to the actual moment before we left for the hospital to have Maya--from 10-37 weeks. Thank you to my ever patient husband and photographer who kindly ignored my requests to make me look skinny.

the one about poop

There are three things you can be certain of as a new parent--you will be knocked off your feet with a staggering love for your baby, you will not sleep as much as you want to and you will find that within a matter of days, if not hours, poop will become a contstant companion. The part of your new life that is not already consumed with feeding, rocking, playing with and taking an ungodly number of pictures of your baby will be spent dealing with what comes out of the baby.

In one of our pre-natal classes when the instructor told us that newborns could go through 10-12 diapers a day I thought that was a comical overexaggeration and I chuckled at her funny joke, if only to be polite. As it turns out, some newborns, mine for instance, can actually meet that number and exceed it on a surprisingly regular basis. Why? Why? In fact, she was born with the incredible talent to dirty a diaper while it was being changed, amazing. At first I thought, "What a clever little baby I have! How quick she is! How cute!" But after a few instances in the darkness of night, under the veil of exhaustion, when I didn't think it necessary to open my eyes while changing a diaper only to find upon getting back into bed that I had poop actually on my person and when I checked the baby she was also partially submerged in the substance--only then did the amazement fade. The dismaying part of finding poop on yourself in the middle of the night is not that EW poop is gross but that you have to waste precious minutes of sleep changing yourself and the babe. Changing diapers can be enjoyable too! I get to play with her little toes and tickle her tummy and since she started smiling diaper changes are so much more fun, I think she knows that it's a funny situation and usually smiles and giggles away the whole time.

A foolish new parent will leave the house for the first time without carefully mapping out their intended route and making note of where the diaper changing facilities are along the way. Foolish indeed. It is also foolish to assume that there are diaper changing facilities in all bathrooms in all stores in all public places. False! There are not. At least not in this country. (I intend to make notes of baby-changing-friendly places when we are in Texas in April and I'm hoping that Chick Fil A is one of them because I plan on spending a nice chunk of time there.) Nothing strikes fear in the soul of a new parent more than being out with a baby whose diaper has failed you and not being able to find a place to change her, especially in the winter when a park bench will not do. I once saw a mom with terror in her eyes lurch into the Starbucks I was sitting in, empty the contents of her diaper bag at a table and change her little baby there and then. I don't think I have the audacity to do that, but then again I haven't needed to yet. Maya has been changed in the car on a few occasions.

Speaking of changing rooms, enter one and you have entered a whole new world previously closed off to you because you had absolutely no reason whatsoever to go in one. On our first time out with Maya, Sam and I came to the point of no return where we had to change her diaper and so we sought out one of the two known baby changing facilities in the town where we live. Upon stepping into the chamber we were immediately assaulted by the strangest of statements, "OOoooOOOoooOOOHHHHh WHAT A BIIIIIIG POOOOOOOO!!!! Mommy's little boy is soooo gooooood WOWOWOWOWOWWWWW Looook at THAAAAT!!!!!" and I couldn't believe that this was part of our new life, that exclamations like that are completely normal. I have made some very close friends in changing rooms since, even if those friendships only last for as long as it takes to change a diaper. You always leave knowing how old the babies are who were in there, their names, their approximate weight and how well they sleep at night. Oh how we miss little Martin from the service station on the M4 between Bristol and Swindon who we met on the way to London! We will never see him again, yet I will always wonder if that top tooth ever came in! Sweet little Floella from the changing room in town who had just turned 4 months and had pooped all over her last change of clothes that her mom brought with her! What a cheeky little monkey she was!

Back to that first day in a changing room: Maya, the very child I kept safely within my body for 8.5 months and lovingly laboured with for over 24 hours, decided to launch a full assault on her sleep deprived and naiive parents when we were at our weakest. She had been saving up for just the right moment--already feeling nervous about doing this out for the first time I slowly took off her clothes and her diaper with anxiety rising up within me, which was when she began her attack by spraying poo on my hands which meant that I had to take my eyes off her for a few seconds to wipe them clean, meanwhile she took the opportunity to projectile poo over my clothes and onto the floor at which point Sam, who had previously been taking a power nap propped up against the wall, came to my rescue with more wipes, and while we were trying to clean that up she started peeing, drenching herself and both of us in the process. What a rat! I literally did not know what to do, I had never seen such a mess with a baby in the middle of it, I took a step back and hopped from one foot to the other and had a very slight freak out until Sam had gained control of the situation with almost a whole pack of wipes and all of the diapers we had ventured out with (like 18). Come to find out these occurances were not at all unusual and Maya sneak attacks often, but ever since that first time we have been prepared with great big towels and buckets of water and full hazmat suits (which can be seen in Exhibit A below). Always always always be prepared. Be over-prepared.

One last observation (I don't want to go overboard here and gross anyone out, although I'm sue I probably already have--sorry), but isn't it just amazing the sheer velocity at which a tiny doll sized human being can expell their lunch?? The distant targets they can hit? And at what angles! I have been changing Maya before and got her cleaned up ready to go and then noticed a puddle a few inches off to the side, at a 90 degree angle, perpendicular to her body. It must just be a baby skill, I know I can't do that!

Exhibit A

the big M

So, I'm a mother. That's still weird to say. But it means that in a very short period of time I have become overwhelmed by an indescribable amount of love for a tiny creature, occasionally speak in a strange high pitched voice, use terms like "bott-bott" for bottom (why??), am unfazed by poop and other previously repulsive bodily fluids (so much so that I have actually gone back to bed at 3am knowing there was a drop of poop on the duvet and didn't give a rat's you know what), get annoyed when loud cars drive by because they might wake the baby and often do (bleeeeping bleep bleep bleeeeep), get highly distressed when Maya wont go down for a nap and then look at pictures of her when she's sleeping because I can't wait for her to wake up, melt into fits of tears when she smiles at me, and generally think about her all of the time. It's great:)

I'm not sure if other moms would agree with this but I often feel that motherhood is like being bipolar--one day everything goes perfectly and you have so much confidence in yourself and your baby is happy and you're feeling on top of the world and the next day any small thing could set you off like you realize how exhausted you are and can't remember the last time you took a shower and the baby wont take a nap and you feel like a terrible mother. Maybe it's just me? On the bad days it's important to have a baby daddy who brings chocolate home from work and reminds you that your baby is happy and healthy and that he thinks you're doing great. Good or bad, it's the most beautiful, challenging, fulfilling thing I've ever done. The best job ever. When I peek into Maya's crib every morning and see her sweet little face smiling up at me I wonder why I didn't do this before.

She's Here!!

Our sweet girl, Maya Hope, arrived two and a half weeks early on December 14 at 7:35pm weighing in at 5 pounds and 12 ounces and measuring 19 inches! We are so happy and excited to share this first special Christmas with her as a family of 3. She is a sweet happy baby and has made our world complete. We are totally in love.

Happy holidays!!

35 weeks

Here I am at 35 weeks, a ticking time bomb. When I was about 18 weeks I promised a late pregnancy update. Well here it is...

-Being 8 months pregnant really improves the way you feel about your body, retrospectively. I now look at pictures of myself before I was pregnant and remember thinking I needed to lose a few and just laugh. HAHAHA, what a fool. NOW I'm fat. If I can get that body back I will be so happy. If.

-Moving is incredibly and laughably difficult. Which is cruel because of the number of times I have to get up to pee in the middle of the night. Sam often gets a good laugh out of watching me rock my way off the couch with the assistance of the coffee table and book shelf. Gone are the days of daintily easing my ace into a sitting position, now I just release the catch and collapse onto a seat. Timber.

-The belly can get in the way sometimes. I may as well wash the dishes in my bathing suit.

-The little sweet pea I'm sharing my body with is really good company throughout the day. It's like having a little friend in my pocket, with me wherever I go. She likes to wake me up every morning with a few love taps and maybe a somersault. I think I'll miss it when she's not in there anymore. But sometimes it can be a little, shall we say, distracting. Such as when she does bicycle kicks to my bladder during an important phone call, or practices her highly advanced kickboxing skills when I'm driving. I guess she has a sense of humor already.

-My poor poor ankles, where did they go?! And my feet, what did they do to deserve becoming Yeti-fied? I thought they were joking about your feet swelling in the last few weeks.

-There are so many nice people out there with kind and encouraging things to say about having a baby. Last night at dinner a lady at the table next to us leaned over and asked how "imminent" I am, and said that I was glowing. If you want to make a pregger's day tell them they look good, because it sure doesn't feel like it. Aaand I'm pretty sure I was just sweating but I still really appreciated the kind words.

-I didn't see it coming, but my maternity clothes have even become tight. What the. I never thought I'd even grow into them but now they're snug? Excuse me, this is unacceptable.

-The big push is quickly approaching. What's going to happen? How long is it going to take? Will I even survive? It's crazy to have no idea how it's all going to go down. Whenever I have voiced this opinion to other women who have had babies they say that if you knew what was going to happen you probably wouldn't get pregnant. Oh thanks, that's so reassuring. But believe it or not, I'm not scared. It's not like there's anything I can do, except pray.

-I find myself going into the baby's room a lot more these days feeling like there's stuff I should be doing in there, but usually I just end up looking at her little outfits and imagining a sweet little tiny baby in them and it's kind of overwhelming how excited that makes me.

-I feel really sorry for Sam. He has been so good to me these past 8 months, so patient, so kind. I feel bad he has had to live with this large, irrational version of myself for so long. The other night we were sitting on the couch before I went to dinner with friends and I was kind of moaning about how miserable I feel sometimes and I know I'm pathetic and blah blah blah. And Sam said, do you realize the last three things you said to me just now were "I feel so fat. Look at my huge ankles. Please don't eat all my chocolate while I'm gone tonight." Which is ridiculous and made me laugh hysterically.

-Besides being totally irrational I'm also a complete emotional sap, which is a trait I've always been terrified of acquiring. I cried on Thanksgiving Day when I had to go to work, I shed a tear when my favorite bakery didn't have any donuts left, I wept a little during the birthing scene of the latest Twilight movie (for good reason hey), and I even teared up while making my packing list for the hospital. Somehow writing down "must get breastpads" what too much for me to bear.

-Everyone tells you to expect to have really stupid arguments with your spouse when your baby is first born--usually in the middle of the night. But in my experience, the tension and arguments begin a little earlier, say, when you have outgrown your side of the bed and your husband has recently developed a snoring habit; "Babe, could you move over a little? And roll onto your side? And go get me a cookie and a glass of water?" Tension. Or when you get home from work really irritated by how many people needed your help (the nerve!) and you have to have ice cream or you're going to possibly commit murder but the ice cream is missing. Argument.

-To summarize: In the last month you are are large, uncomfortable, hungry, tired and freaky. But the best part is that it's almost over and you will then have a sweet little baby all your own. Which is quite possibly freakier. But still, I can actually see now that I will miss being pregnant, it's been such a weird and interesting experience, and very sweet and memorable too. I have really enjoyed it and I can't wait to see the outcome--our baby girl.

dahlias

There is a garden in Dunster called the Dream Garden that is full of dahlias of all sizes, shapes and colors. The last time we visited I finally remembered to take my camera...

warmer days

English weather is so predictably unpredictable. Just as soon as we got our shed stocked with logs and started looking forward to cozy evenings by the fire sipping hot chocolate and eating pumpkin pie it gets hot for the first time since April. During the past two weeks people have been wearing flip flops, taking their shirts off, eating on their patios and going to the beach. Even the plants have started blooming again. So Sam and I took the opportunity to get some color on our pasty selves and hit the beach as well.

(beached whale at 27 weeks)

But not to worry, they are already predicting hail and snow for some areas later this week so soup is back on the menu...

cooler days

Cooler days? Who am I kidding? It's been like this since April. Our summer this year was in what was technically springtime and was just 2 weeks of weather that was in the 70s and one of those weeks we were in Thailand. But I'm excited it's fallish because it just feels different somehow but really it's just the same as summer except that I have an overwhelming impulse to collect pine cones. In honor of the beginning of fall I made a pumpkin pie this weekend and it was delish. I am also looking forward to start making some of our favorite soups like roasted butternut squash, carrot and corriander (aka cilantro), broccoli cheese and leek and potato. Yum. What are some other good soups? Any seasonal favorites that I should add to my soup list?

21 weeks

Here I am at 21 weeks (I'm 23 now, just a little behind with my posts), this was the day that we found out we are having a baby girl! We are both so excited!! Now comes the hard part, choosing a name.

It's really hard to choose a name for your child. It's probably so bad that I'd advise people not to get pregnant because of it. I'm serious. There's so many decisions. First of all you have to agree. Secondly, it can't be the name of anyone you know--and just think of how many people you know. I suppose it can be the name of someone you know if you're willing to take that risk. It would be great to use a family name but how to pick which side of the family? And what if all your favorites have already been taken by other people in your family? It can't be something that rhymes with anything bad or that could generate a mean nick name. You want to pick something semi-unique so that your kid isn't one of 18 children with the same name in her class, but not so unique that it's obvious you're trying too hard. Will the initials spell something weird? Will her initials spell something weird once she's married? Then of course you have to deal with those special people in your life who ask you not to use the name they have chosen for their child--you know who I mean, that friend who isn't even dating but has her kids names picked out? And of course you might want it to mean something. So there may be a really great name that you love but when you look up the meaning and it's something like "hypocrite" or "slothful one" you think maybe not. You might have a really sweet name picked out but when you tell people they react weirdly or not as you expected so you wonder if it's the name or if they just have gas. But this shouldn't really matter because it's your baby so it's should be a name that you love, but it's such a big responsibility that if there's something bad about the name that you haven't realized yet you really do want someone to tell you. Perhaps most importantly, it has to be a name you can imagine yourself shouting across the playground at the top of your lungs when your kid is pulling another kids hair or putting sand down her pants. Am I missing anything?

We have a couple of names picked out, a top two, but so far have not made a formal announcement of the one we have chosen, because we haven't chosen yet. It's still up in the air...

Blackburn

A couple of weeks ago we went to see Sam's football (aka soccer) team play up in Blackburn which is way up north. He has supported the Blackburn Rovers since he was a wee lad and hadn't been to see them in years and years. So it was very exciting. I was looking forward to the fights but it was pretty tame except for a big fat man and a little short man who got annoyed with each other in the row in front of us because Blackburn were losing and the big fat man said something rude and called them all mean names and the little short man said if he couldn't say something nice to not say anything at all so the big fat guy called the little short guy an even ruder name and the little short guy's girlfriend had to restrain him from punching the big fat guy and I was a little disappointed, because like I said, I went for the fights. But it was pretty fun! A lot of the fans stand up chanting and taunting the opposition during the whole game which was strangely familiar and heartwarming, my fellow Aggies might know what I mean by that.

Here are some little hood rats before the game. I got told off by Sam for laughing at their northern accents.

That's me eating a cheese and onion pie (see I told you I was a pie eater) and a giant pile of chips (aka french fries). YUM, I like football:)

The teams warming up.

Sadly Blackburn didn't win but it was still really fun just to be there in person and feel all the excitement and tension. It was a good day.