Jenny's mother (Jeanne) and sister (Julie) (see the J theme?) have organized a Cleveland baby shower for us when we visit them for Thanksgiving next week. My family, including my 95-year old grandmother, will join us there for a huge turkey dinner at Jenny's grandmother's house. We'll stick around for a long weekend to enjoy everyone's company, as this is the last airplane ride for Jenny before she delivers. Our doctor isn't prohibiting travel, but as she kindly reminded us, "wherever you give birth is where you will be until you and your baby are healthy enough to return home." With the possibility of an early delivery, we'd prefer to be here with the doctors that we've gotten to know (and who know us, poor folks).
We've had many generous offers from friends who had held on to baby clothes and other goodies, hopeful that we (or someone else) would start a family. Our neighbors (Mark and Karyn) have loaned us a glider (rocker) with an ottoman that they used with their delightful daughter Cleo. There's a good chance that we'll return to Seattle with a crib and changing table, along with a bunch of little girl clothes known as The Shannon Collection from Jenny's friend Julie (they met at Bowling Green in 1987). Bra shopping has begun, but they won't let me in the changing room, so I usually browse the breast pumps and use my imagination. The clothes that Jenny bought a couple of months ago are getting daily use now. Her students have had mixed responses to Jenny's "condition". Some are so dumb they don't even notice.
In spite of being of "advanced maternal age", Jenny has proven to me and everyone around us that age is a number rather than a physical reality. She looks great, and she has continued most of her daily routine without too much complaining. At our last doctor's visit she passed her gestational diabetes test but was found to be slightly anemic, so she upped her iron intake, and everything is fine. She continues to gain weight on schedule (we were told that a pound per week is normal), and her uterus is growing accordingly. (Now, please understand--I'm not a big fan of the word uterus. It's one of those words that sounds like you would expect the thing to look like, but if you think you can go through a pregnancy without using the word uterus, you're mistaken. Uterus. Uterus.) Now that we're done with ultrasounds, the doctor measures the baby by measuring Jenny's-ahem-uterus. That is achieved on the outside of the body by measuring from the top of the pubic bone to the ridge (top of uterus) at the top of Jenny's belly. Here's a demonstration using one of those goofy IKEA measuring tapes.
As you can see in the close-up, Jenny's uterus measures 28-29cm, which directly correlates to the number of weeks that she is into the pregnancy (28 weeks).
Last weekend we attended a class on Car Seat Safety and Installation. I was skeptical when I found out that the class lasts 2 1/2 hours (!), but we actually walked away with some good information that helped us decide which infant seat to purchase. And what better way to color coordinate than to purchase a 2009 Volkswagen Jetta TDI Sportwagen! I'd post a photo, but it's dark by 5:00pm these days. Jenny's never owned a new car, so this is pretty special. She got exactly what she wanted--a clean-burning diesel that gets great mileage and has heated seats! And we're both happy to know that BabyJ will be riding in a very safe car.
Well, that's it for now. If anyone is interested, visit our doctor's link to watch a brief movie about her. Dr. Faulkner has been great to us so far, but truth be told, we haven't had to spend too much time with her. We both see that as a good thing, and as long as she works her magic on (or around) February 11th, everyone will be very happy.
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