Me and Ninja Chuck Norris

Updates from the recliner:

Most people wear Superman pajamas. Superman wears Chuck Norris Pajamas.

Best way to make a beached whale pregnant lady's day: hook me up with Chuck Norris. And Satan's sword.

This picture may be my new favorite thing in this world.

And yes, I have already gone BEYOND insanity living on this dang recliner. I have started making lists of the cool ninja moves I am going to teach little baby Norris.

That sounds bad though... no, Chuck Norris is NOT the father.

Now that I've reached the point of incoherent rambling, I will stop. I just wanted to share the best picture ever!!

P.S..... I'm tired of making hats.

Would you say I have a plethora... of hats??!!

Preggo update: great news: we have stopped labor! Bad news for me: bed rest until I want him to come. I tried to talk the doctor out of it, and tried batting my eyelashes (he asked if I was having a seizure), and then I tried crying, and lip quivering, but somehow he thinks because he's all MD and crap, he knows better, so he left me to be lounging around.

It's OK, I will win the lounge award of 2009.

So I've tried to pick up new hobbies to help with the horribleness that this lounging brings. I have to tell you, I have mad hat skills. OK, maybe not so much, but as you will see with my history with cakes, I am not quite the Martha Stewart I so aspire to be. But I have conquered the classy $5 Walmart hat loom. Here is my first attempt. It didn't so much turn out a hat, but more of a tube.. of ugliness, but a good first try:

Since then, I taught myself how to use not one, two, but THREE whole COLORS!! I have made 13 in 4 days, and I need a new hobby. Help.
In all reality, I am very very grateful that I am still pregnant and little pooper dude is still healthy and OK. I want him in there as long as I can. I am ever grateful for the many wonderful friends and family that have shown such compassion and concern. Thanks for the calls and prayers and Chuck Norris T-Shirts (I LOVE YOU DI!). I appreciate it more than you'll ever know.

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....

Little Baby Chuck Norris

Brush back the tears, I am BACK to blogging. (yes, all two of you... meaning me... who missed me...). Summer is full of craziness and business and I love it!

We have had a crazy past few weeks that I would never care to repeat. Ever. But I do feel seriously SO blessed. Seriously. So blessed.
I am officially in the 3rd trimester. I get told all the time that I have been pregnant forever and believe me I KNOW IT. I don't think the little dude can possibly make my stomach stretch any further and there are 3 months to go. Ah, little dude. (No stretch marks yet but definitely ugly ugly ankles). We call him baby Chuck Norris. Chuck Norris Heaton IS his own weapon. He has earned his name by attempting to kick his way out of there. That or giving tae kwondo lessons, or maybe he's riverdancing. (I stick with the Chuck Norris theory - it's much more manly).

I am not complaining about the kicking though. We had quite a scare this week. On Sunday my stomach started to hurt. By about 8:00 I was having such bad cramping I felt like I was on my period and it didn't stop. I kept telling myself I am paranoid and just tried to go to bed. Within a few hours the pain was so bad I started vomiting nonstop. After waiting all night, I finally was smart enough to call the doctor (seriously, I don't have a brain) and he told me to go straight to labor and delivery. Not a good feeling at 27 1/2 weeks. Too early. They ran their tests and I was contracting heavily but not in labor. And I think my nurse had a perma wedgy and no one to love her as a child because she was not pleasant. She put me on pain meds and anti nausea and told me to go home because they didn't know what was wrong. I think she thought I wasn't serious. Or maybe it was bad gas.

This morning I got up and discovered I was bleeding heavily. I don't think I have EVER had such a sinking feeling, thinking something could be wrong with our miracle Chuck Norris. Jake rushed me back into the hospital where I was in sheer panic until I heard our little dude's little heartbeat. Yeah, he was kicking and dancing and hanging out like nothing was happening. Never have I been so SO relieved. They checked me and my cervix was still closed and I was not in labor - the bleeding was outside of the cervix (too much gross information, I know). I was contracting again and they gave me a shot and then everything... was fine. They still don't know why my body is cramping and contracting but I am not in preterm labor so they sent me home. I was told to sit and get fat until I meet with the doctor again on Thursday. I'm pretty good at that job. :)

I just feel very blessed to have him safe and sound and not here quite yet. I have been so often complaining about being pregnant and I know I needed some perspective... it was sure given. I don't want to complain any more. I want to do everything I can for him to get here, all safe and sound, and beautiful, and ready to beat up everyone else.

In the meantime, I still have been avoiding cameras. Over the 4th someone snuck in a shot where my belly is exposed, so that's the best I can do for a 'bump picture'. The remainder remain under lock and key to avoid pandemic. Plus I had to take one of Chuck at his first time at the fireworks. I hope you do not vomit.

Going Senile

A few years ago my Grandma Funk started showing the first signs of dementia. She has since never ceased to entertain us with her -isms. She often forgets the real name of things and replaces them with other words. We still get a kick out of when she was yelling at my younger sister to quit running around without her feet on. (We think she meant shoes). Or when she woke up screaming because a cow was climbing in bed with her. It was a cat.

We love my Grandma and understand that this is beyond her control. But I have never really fully understood what she must feel until recently, when I have begun the early signs of Evz-heimers. Or pregnancy brain. Or maybe just getting dumber. Or maybe it's eating too many oranges. I don't know what it is, but my brain does NOT work.

The other day I got dressed and did some things around my house for more than an hour before I realized that I had not put a shirt on. I was wearing an open jacket, but no shirt. Just my bra and special underwear hanging all out over my bowl of a belly. Not so good.
I forgot to post about how my beautiful younger sister graduated from high school. She is now looking into piracy.

I forgot to post about how my fellow favorite knocked up sister Becca turned old and had her birthday. Happy Birthday, a month ago, Becca!

I forgot to post about how my wonderful mother-in-law went back to school and graduated from Bridgerland's Interior Design program and how proud we are of her. You better enjoy this picture because this is as close up of a baby bump picture that you will get for awhile. (I still think it looks like I eat tires).

Maybe it's because I turned 27. Old, old upper twenties. Maybe that's it. But one of these days I will forget to put my clothes on all together and cause quite a neighborhood sensation. I am in Utah County after all.

Here's a picture of me forgetting where my tongue goes. Becca seems a little constipated but Erica is just plain evil.

What was the point of this post? Yeah, I forgot.

Drum roll please

Today was the day I've been peeing my pants for weeks thinking about... the day of the big ultrasound. Thankfully I remembered to put on CLEAN pants before we went out.
Honestly, all we wanted to hear was that it was either all boy or all girl, not with both parts, and really just HEALTHY.

So, with a drum roll, and a dum dum dum (because I can't think of a creative way to announce this)....

IT'S A BOY.

He's 100% healthy with all his fingers and toes and he has a thing with his feet. He kept trying to smell them. I'm trying not to worry too much yet, but if he tries to keep putting his feet in his mouth during prom, I'm pulling out the big guns.

We have been concerned with this pregnancy because my body is not like most bodies, and there has been anxiety with how this would be for me and the baby. After 3 1/2 months of being sick ALL DAY, that went away and I just feel... hungry. I am getting frequent headaches and still considered high risk, but all that matters is that my baby is still healthy. My little dude with his little boy parts. I love it!! What a miracle that we thank God for each day.