Tag Archive for 'zygote'

Baby Update

First off, thanks for all the calls and emails…

It’s amazing our friends and family remembered Emily’s due date. People surprise us everyday. Or rather, our friends and family really make us feel warm and gooey inside.

Sadly there is no baby yet. Em was due this past Saturday. But since only 4% of babies are actually born on their due date, like most, this baby will be late. We’re getting pretty anxious, but it’s definitely an excited anxious. Most of the other couples from our birthing class have had their baby, so it should be our turn now! Ok. It’s just us being impatient. There. I said it. Emily is kicking ass and has had a great pregnancy. She’s also been making a lot of smoothies (They are yummy, yo.) and I have been going up and down the stairs ~21.7 times per day. My thighs are ripped. But she’s the superstar. No doubt.

The baby is kicking up a storm. When we sit next to each other it totally nudges me when I lean up on Em. Sometimes it will kick back if I push on the belly. Emily says that she can hear it burping. But I am not sure if I believe her. Remember, this is the girl who frequently takes hours to realize her underwear is on backwards (and inside-out).

Just to clear up some myths:

  1. We do not know the gender. We decided not to find out in the 2 sonograms we had. We feel it’s the last surprise of life. Not to mention receiving only pink or baby blue clothes made us a little queasy.
  2. We have two names picked out. One for a boy and one for a girl. You’ll find out when it is born.

When we saw the Midwife last week she was thinking thinking sometime later this week. Bebe is already in the correct position, so it only needs to fully drop and we’ll be good to go! We have our weekly appointment Wednesday and we could know more then. But really, we’ll only know when it happens! And you’ll be the first to know.

Thanks for playing. And feel free to keep calling the hotline. We love you and your persistence!

Emily & The Zygote at 31 Weeks

Emily @ 31 Weeks

Further Evidence of Bregnancy Prain

It began with simple typo’s and grammatical mistakes. No biggie. Except that I am the consummate editor and NEVER miss a “their” instead of “they’re”. It usually just pops right out and grabs my eyeball before I can finish a sentence. And yet, there it was. Hiding through several proof-readings. Hmm. Unlikely.

Then last week, I was making dinner and told Mat several times that I was looking for the viner cidegar. I couldn’t figure out why it didn’t sound remotely like anything we stock in our kitchen. Finally, my neurons caught up and I managed to gasp cider vinegar! Ah ha! We do have that.

The very next day, I did the same thing while looking for a bile of powls. It didn’t sound like anything I wanted to associate with eating. And, good thing, we didn’t have it and I finally realized I needed a pile of bowls!

A few nights ago, I had BBQ sauce simmering on one burner and pulled out the veggie oil to start the spanish rice on another burner. Unscrew the cap. Guesstimate two tablespoons. Dump it in the pot. Wrong pot! Oh well, oily sauce. We cooked it a little longer than usual and no one seemed the wiser.

This morning, I dropped Mat off at the train station then came home to have some breakfast and get cracking on our logo. Open the fridge, grab all the requisite ingredients. Something doesn’t look right. Ack! OJ goes in the glass, not the cereal bowl! Fortunately, the cereal was spared and I started over from the beginning.

Taken on their own, I could easily pass off each situation as a simple case of misfiring synapses. After all, I am the girl who regularly dons her underwear backwards and who once peed through her underwear because she forgot to pull them down before sitting on the toilet while talking to her husband. And, yes, all those incidents were pre-conception. But they were spaced widely apart. (Well, except for the backwards underwear. I really do have a problem with that. But most of the time it’s not a thong.)

But in such close proximity, the evidence is beginning to point towards too much blood going south of the border and not enough heading north to my noggin.

That said, I would like to point out that Mat has sympathy bregnancy prain. Last weekend, we experienced a mini decision-making crisis while ordering a pizza, which culminated in several callbacks to Papa John’s and a few hang-ups because we got bogged down in the cost-benefit analysis of not ordering online with a coupon versus having to call back to specify “no cheese on half”. It was a dilemma.

Finally, Mat made a command decision, said “fuck it”, and called back again to re-add the breadsticks to the order. But the line was busy. He called again. Still busy! He started fuming about the standard of customer service and why don’t they have enough lines and tried again. BUSY! He continued hitting redial for the next 10 minutes while we slowly watched the clock, the delivery countdown in the backs of our heads.

The last time he called, I glanced over at the phone as he was pressing “Talk” and slowly one neuron said to another: That number… looks…. familiar. I think… that’s OUR… number!

Emily: Mat, have you been calling yourself for the last 10 minutes?
Mat: Fuck.

Moments later, the doorbell rang.