...no more monkeys jumping on the bed! 

Or not.  But that would've been funny and may have upped my doctor's personality factor somewhat.  Back to reality, I had my 32-week appointment this past Monday.  Baby is now the weight of a large jicama, almost 4 pounds.  That's what the internet says though, not the doctor.  Dr. James says that everything is trucking along nicely, on "cruise control" actually.  I'm definitely getting the third trimester aches and pains full force, though in the grand scheme of pregnancies they're really nothing to complain about.  A friend of mine who is the same amount of pregnant at me, is already at home on bed rest.  And while the idea does sound like it has its perks, I know enough to feel fortunate that I can still work 45-50 hours weeks with little more adverse effects than some extra grumbling at the end of the day.  Which of course Dave is completely charmed with. 

But I digress.  Here are the stats:

Right on track, measuring 32 cm, equalling 32 weeks.  Baby Horne's heartrate is 138-140, and my blood pressure and pulse continue to be good.  I get one more visit, two weeks out, and then likely have to start the weekly visits.  Oh, and I've decided that the doctor likes me as I seem to be quite a non-dramatic Preggo.  I can't even think of any questions to ask.  It appears doctors favor this, so they can be quickly on their merry way.

One very very happy surprise that greeted me back in Phoenix was that Dave had put together the nursery while I was away!  Very sneaky...he'd been keeping the crib hidden from me until I left, and when I popped in to see the paint color (that was his weekend job), I was suprised to see a whole nursery!  It's ever so cute.  Since then I've put away all the baby shower things (nesting, anyone?), we've added a rug, ordered blinds, and chose our curtains.  There's still much to do, and no crib mattress yet (though Mom H. is busily working on that), but things are really coming together!  And my brother was right -- the sight of a crib waiting for baby to come home and sleep in it really makes this whole "baby" idea concrete.  But happily concrete.  Stressfully concrete.  Happily stressfully concrete.

We also started our childbirth prep classes last week.  They're, um, informational I guess.  So far we've learned a couple of things, though our instructor lady has a tendency to review topics that aren't necessarily relevant, like talking forever about gestational diabetes to a class in which no one has it.  But I suppose she needs to stick to her curriculum.

We have learned a few breathing techniques, two of which I am on board with, one of which I'm not.  I just can't get the "Patterned Breathing" down - yes mom, they still use the hoo-hoo-hee thing.  Maybe it's because I have yet to experience the sort of pain that requires such skilled breathing, though likely it's because I get distracted by everyone else in class hoo-hoo-heeing and lose track of my own hees and hoos and then just start laughing.  This has earned me a few stern looks from the aforementioned instructor.  Dave and I are not very good students it turns out...it seems we like to whisper all class about the crazy people on the birth prep videos.  This has also earned us a few looks.  My excuse is that the classes are held on Wednesday evenings, after a full day of work, and I'm simply delusional at that time of day.  We even forgot our pillows on the very first day of class.  I was sadly prepared to practice the relaxing techniques sans cushioning, *sniff*, but one of my coworkers, who is also taking the class, took pity on me and offered up one of her own pillows.  Hooray for pregnant solidarity.

It is also interesting to note that out of circa 15 couples, Baby Horne is the only mystery baby.  Everyone else knows what they're having already!  We're still holding out for the surprise.  That, at least, made our instructor happy, as she is a nurse who might well be in the delivery room with us, who said, and I quote: "I love surprise babies!  That way I get to find out what you've had before anyone else does!"  Whatever floats your boat, lady. 

Busy busy busy...I just checked in on all my friends' blogs and realized I've been sadly remiss at adding to my own.  Seems like we're all the busy bees these days.  Maybe it's that spring has sprung here in the southwest.  In any case, hopefully this weekend I will get all caught up. 

To backtrack, I went home to Rochester from April 3-6 for my family/friends baby shower, hosted by my Aunts Sue and Gail, and cousins Peg, Beth, and Jess.  A few friends were able to come into town for it, and with my mom, mom-in-law, Oma, half-sister, Dad's girlfriend, it made for quite the girly gathering!  And quite baby-themed, I might add, very appropo.  My poor dad was a little bummed that he wasn't invited, but I assured him he really wouldn't want to be present amidst so much estrogen.   

We played cute shower games, and I was surprised to find out how adept I am at guessing baby foods (5/6!) and how bad I am at identifying "poop" in diapers (2/6).  My cousin assured me that I will get much better at looking at, examining, and musing over Baby Horne's poo when the time comes to do so.  See how much there is to look forward to?    Maybe Dave will like to do that part. 

The food was fabulous, all the decorations were adorable, and I was completely blown away by how incredibly generous and giving everyone was for Baby H.  It was so exciting to see all the little baby outfits and rattles and blankets and even handmade things!  My family and friends are so talented.  I loved it all, even with all the creative packing I had to do to get it back to Arizona, and I had so much fun sharing it all with Dave.  I'll post a picture or two of the big day.  And it was fun to see everyone's reactions to The Belly.  Another highlight was that I got to meet my little cousin Reegan, Peg's girl, who's now already 5 months old!  Time is flying really fast. 

I also had a wonderful time just visiting with everyone during my time at home.  My mom treated me to a pregnancy facial - which was heavenly - and then a girls day out at a tea party restaurant in the city.  It was very cute, though my poor mom-in-law was put on the spot by the very eccentric owner who demanded to know how her version of the scone compares to the real thing.  The answer of course was "not at all", but my MIL made up some very gracious answer and the owner trotted away happily. 

Traveling with baby on board went pretty well overall.  I was pleased to see my cankles did not resurface...that is until I landed back in Phoenix and then it was no holds barred.  I think Baby H. enjoyed all the friendly pats he/she received from loved ones too, and all in all it was a wonderful trip. 

Well folks, we're at 30 weeks and counting! 

I had my latest doctor's appointment today; this one was the quickest one yet.  Check in, pee, check weight (at this point I don't even want to look at this scale), check blood pressure and pulse (all is well), meet new doctor (Dr. Mystie - very nice), talk about cankles ("It'll get worse before it'll get better" says the fine doctor-- FABulous), talk about flying (all clear unless I go into labor first - uh, how 'bout a big fat NO to that one), listen to baby's heartbeat (137 bpm), measure tummy (31 cm - now circa 1 week ahead but well within the normal range), say goodbyes, and off I go.  In TEN minutes flat.  Dr. Mystie seems to be quite the efficient one.  If only she could expedite the labor once it comes...

At 30 weeks I'm feeling large, though everyone says I have such a "cute belly".  'Course, I don't really think anyone in their right mind would tell a pregnant woman she looks awful, lest they risk a roundhouse kick to the head, Chuck Norris style.  Then again, the reality of a 30-week preggo actually being able to execute such a kick is likely slim to none.    But I digress.

I did actually want to mention the sheer vividness of my dreams lately.  I have not been sleeping well, go figure, but not really for the backaches-and-middle-of-the-night-potty-breaks usual reasons.  No, no, I've just been having super animated dreams which often wake me up.  Most I can't remember, but the ones I do recall are quite forseeable:  driving a car really fast on a road, losing control and flying off the embankment ...gee, what's my subconcious trying to tell me there?  Other ones I only vaguely remember, but they seem to be very strange and quite dramatic.  And the labor dreams have begun. 

One night, I actually think Baby Horne got in on the act.  Baby must've been kicking up a storm, because I remember dreaming about the baby going just nuts and making my belly pop out in all sorts of weird and unnatural ways.  In this dream, I was visiting my brother in California, and his wife Amy told me "Oh, my belly did that same thing right before I went into labor!"  All I remember is thinking that there is no way I could go into labor in the Middle-of-Nowhere, California, at 30 weeks, and without a crib or a car seat!  That one sent me into a tizzy and woke me right up.  Darn that subconscious rearing its ugly head again.  At least it's a predictable subconscious, right??