Still Cooking!!

Days and nights are seriously blurring into each other. I need one moment of a big fat WA-HINE (whine, whine) to complain: bedrest is not a vacation. I remembered how many days when I was working full time thinking how awesome laying around, without my bra, in fabulous stretchy pants, with tubs of cheetos and ding dongs watching movies all day. But it's so not that. I have been trying to take up reading, watching every TV show and movie ever made, toe juggling, counting body hairs ,and even knitting. (I am drowning in baby hats but that's for a whole other post!) But due to my severe attention defecit and being-a-spaz-at-all-times issues, I can't concentrate and just want to get up and walk. But this isn't something I can cheat at and just get up. My little ninja Chuck Norris (no, we are really NOT naming him Chuck, seriously) thinks that now everytime I get up he needs to start his business and I get more contractions, so I have to show him who's boss and lay here and poke him.

I'm so bored.

Bored, bored, bored. Whine, whine, whine.

OK, I'm done with that. I actually don't have too much to whine about because I am SO SO grateful I am still knocked up! The doctor said the ultimate goal is to get to at least 34 weeks, but hopefully longer since he has measured small. I'm at 32.... every week counts so much! I am grateful every morning I get up and he is still in there, hiding his ninja skills under my stretched belly button (it looks like an alien eye). I am very blessed!

I have also never been in such awe with my husband, Jake. He is not only smart, funny, caring, considerate, and has good dental hygiene, but I have never seen such PATIENCE. He has given me a bell that I ding when I need anything, and he really does it. He is now my cook, maid, rear end masseuss, therapist, crane (helps me up to the potty, yo), and he hasn't complained yet. I dont' know what I did to deserve him through all this, but I'm blessed. He is going to be the BEST daddy so at least our dude has SOME hope with one of his parents.

Look how cute he is with our nephew Greyson. AWWWW!!!

So my vast amount of time sitting I am trying to spend in deep reflection. Not really, but I spend it missing the times when I could waddle. How I want so bad to go on an hour waddle, wiggle, whatever. I did, however, find some pictures from the time right before I was put on bedrest. This first one we went to the drive in for the first time in our lives with our friends Rob & Ashley. Here Jake revealed that he is a felon - he stole some lifesaver things from the airplane. We are going to jail.
And who can forget girls night to say bye to Carrie before she left us for New York (she says she's going to grad school but I think she's really out there to marry a foreign diplomat with a mustache). I love these ladies and miss them every day!

Yes, that's my I just farted look. No wonder Jake saw that and wanted to impregnate it. Yowzah.

I might be inappropriate but I don't get out much.

Bed Rest

I will forewarn you, this will not be a clever post. Not a happy, witty one, or an intellectual insightful one, it will be booby. (That means sad. I once bore my testimony about how I boob. I meant cry. That was embarrassing....)
We had a doctor's check up yesterday. I was 1000% expecting a good report. I have been feeling so much better and little Chuck is still round-house kicking his way all around. I have had some contractions but I didn't think anything to worry about.
So without giving you the gory details, the doctor checked all up my basement and we found another problem. HENCE: Bed rest. Bed rest with bathroom privileges.
Woah.
I don't think I'm so much as upset with the bed rest as I am with the thought that our little ninja might be affected. I am so worried about him. The doctor says that if it continues down this path, by next week we will be giving him shots for his lungs to prepare him to breathe for his early arrival.
I want him to cook for 10 more weeks. (I'm at 30). I am not ready for this. HE is not ready for this. I asked if we could just use a cork or duct tape or something to keep him in there but I guess that won't work. They also said I am measuring a week small so he might be even less prepared than I hoped. So much for my theory of an 80 pound dinosaur.
So, bed rest sucks. Not so much a vacation. But I am willing to do whatever I can for my boy. I want more than anything a healthy baby - the rest is inconsequential.
So every day he stays cooking will be a blessing. Every day, hopefully every week, and hopefully even a month or two....and hopefully he could even be late and I wont' even complain if he is 70 pounds and has a full beard. I really won't.
So I am sitting here, bra-less, trying not to boob, but boobing anyway, just worried. If anybody has any good hobbies to do while I work on my bum fat, let me know....