Music to My [daughter's] [h]ear[t]s

This morning, Emma and I had to get out of the house kind of quick because the housecleaners came early, and I do not like being there while they work. I feel like I should be doing what they are doing. I know they are getting paid, and I am too hippo-like to scrub the shower or tub, but still...
ANYWAY- We headed to Starbucks (or as Emma calls it, THE Coffee Store) for my morning caffeine fix and a mish mash for Emma. Up by the register, they had the new Adele CD, which I've been meaning to purchase on Itunes. I thought, "Well, this way I can listen to it now rather than waiting until I have burned a CD or put it on my IPod..." So I bought it.
Emma and I headed back to the car with our vanilla soy late, 2 mish mashes, and CD. In the car, I quickly unwrapped "21", ejected "A Charlie Brown Christmas" from the changer, and inserted the gift to myself. The first song is "Rolling in the Deep", a catchy tune that Emma instantly started bobbing to. As we drove to a friend's house, she kept moving and grooving until song 2 came on.
She said, "Mommy, this song about Jesus?"
"Ummm... no, baby. This song is about a boy."
Quiet from the backseat...
"Mommy, this sad."
"What's sad baby?"
"Mommy, this song sad. Listen to Jesus music. Not sad."

I know it was a short conversation, but in that moment, I felt like my two year old had said so much. How much of an influence does music have on our mood or our thought process? This song was in a minor key talking about broken relationships, jealousy, and hurt. My two year old couldn't understand all of the lyrics, but she could deduct from the words she caught and the tune that something wasn't right, and it led her to feel sad. The songs my little girl wanted to listen to were about Jesus.

I put on David Crowder.
"Mommy, this Jesus music. Happy big Jesus music."
"Yes, baby. This is Jesus music."

She danced and talked happily the rest of the car ride.

I'm not saying I won't listen to my Adele CD, but when I do, and I will think of how it is effecting me and anyone else who can hear it, and I will be sure that I give equal playtime to some good "Big Jesus music".

He can come now. Maybe.

Alright. So I had a doctor's appointment today. I am 36 weeks and 4 days complete (it is the 4th day of my 37th week), and my doctor gave me a green light for Ransom to come!

Here is the catch: She is not on call this week, and she is going to Chicago on Wednesday of next week.

So.... do I do everything in my power to get him to come tonight and end my discomfort but risk not going into labor tomorrow and then have the doc on call deliver? OR... do I take it easy this weekend, but try to get him to come on Monday or Tuesday, but then cross my legs until next Monday? Ay yi yi. Like I have much control over it anyway!

Basically, I am ready to have a baby. And he can come whenver he likes!

Emma is ready to have Ransom here, too. She told my tummy this morning, "Ransom, look at this!" I tried to explain that, though he can hear us, he can't see us yet. She thought that was just crazy.

Clark is probably ready for Ransom to be here so I stop my griping. I am not normally a complainer, but geez louise, this little boy has really furthered my adoption research!

Taking it easy, continued.

I am having difficulty starting this post. My mind is torn between typing and watching my stomach bounce from side to side in a very uncomfortable manner. Note to self: Even 2 oreos is too many for the little boy in my stomach.

To update on our (mine and Ransom's) current status, we are doing well. I am supposed to be putting my feet up as much as possible, not doing much around the house, and according to my OB, "Give up potty training". I am still having frequent Braxton-Hicks contractions and occassional real contractions with constant pressure and discomfort in the lower regions of my oven. At my appointment Friday, she told me that our goal is to make it 2 more weeks before Ransom makes his grand entrance to the world. She said after this two weeks, if he comes, he comes. That will put me at 37 weeks, which is the first week of what is considered "full-term". By that point, there is very little worry about his lungs or his ability to breathe on his own.

My flesh is so selfishly ready to be done with this pregnancy. I hate that I am unable to be as active as I would like, that I have to depend on others to take care of my responsibilities while I keep my feet up. I am also having a difficult time getting comfortable when sitting or trying to sleep. I just feel ready to have my body back to myself. But then the mom instinct bumps me on the back of the head and reminds me that what is best for my baby boy is to bunk with me for at least 12 more days.

12 days. I can do that. But then I think of friends who have had pre-term labor conditions and then carry past their due date. The good Lord knows what I can handle...

So-- tomorrow I go to my OB for my 35 week check-up. (I have technically completed 35 weeks and am 3 days into my 36th week.) As of last week I was still about 50% effaced and 1cm dilated. It will be interesting to see if anything has changed or if my PBS Kids marathons have helped stop any progression. But for tonight, I am going to try to find a position in which I can sit without seeing Ransom's foot stick out of my side, and I am going to watch White Collar while cuddling with my husband... with my feet up.

Not yet, Mr. Ransom.

Last night, Ransom's home decided to have earthquakes (contractions) between 12:00 and 1:30 A.M.. I was pretty frightened and wished that there was an exact instruction manual for every pregnancy, much like I wish there were one for every child. With Emma Jane, I did not have a single contraction until I had been induced, so while I was pretty sure that's what I was experiencing, I kept thinking that maybe I was wrong.
When I woke up this morning, I was just achey and blah feeling. This pregnancy has been nearly a non-event. Other than Ransom's kicks and punches and my ginormous belly, I have often forgotten that I'm pregnant. My energy level has been high, and with a 2 year old, life just keeps moving! So waking up and feeling like I did concerned me. I called my OB, and she squeezed me in.
Once I got there, they weighed me--WHOA---, and took my blood pressure (122/70), just like at a normal appointment. Then I was told to undress from the waist down and cover with the "drape" (looks like a huge papertowel). I had to wait in my "drape" for quite a while, but fortunately there was a space heater in the room...
I love that I get to be the patient on whom nursing students get to learn, but I figure if this poor girl is going to become a labor and delivery nurse, she will see many more bellies and thighs in her career, so surely mine will be forgotten about... unless the image scarred her... She looked at my big belly as we listened to Ransom's heartbeat and said, "You have the perfect pregnant belly! No stretch marks!" Thank you Grandma Jane and Mom for passing on good genes for awkward moments like that.
SO-- after being checked, it was discovered that Ransom is very low and exerting a lot of pressure (I concur), and that I am actually already 50% effaced (boys don't look that up; you will be freaked out). I am to "rest" as much as possible, put my feet up every chance I get, and take it easy. Ummm... my name is Jane... and I really like to shop... and my form of nesting is all day bake-a-thons....oh, and I have a 2 year old... ?

I have to chill. I have to remember that God is completely in charge of when Ransom makes his debut. Over the next few weeks, I need to just enjoy Sesame Street with Emma Jane, picnics on the couch, playing dolls on the floor... Resting. I'm not so good at resting. But I am going to start practicing today...

10 weeks

Anthony Ransom Fertitta is due to make an appearance in about 10 weeks, and there is much to be done before his arrival. I, however, have found my favorite spot in our house (my yellow chair in the window corner to the left of the fireplace), and productivity is sure to be on a decline.

It is strange how little I have focused on this pregnancy and, more specifically, on Ransom, over the past 30 weeks. With Emma Jane, I paused to feel every single twitch and hiccup. I would sing to her to make those pesky hiccups go away. I read baby book after baby book to learn all I could about how to be a mommy (ha). At this point, her clothes were hung neatly in her closet awaiting her precious arrival. I think her carseat was even snapped in its safest position in the car.

So this time, is it because I have a 2 year old or because I've done this before that I am just really not consumed by the pregnancy???? In fact, I am looking forward to not being pregnant and to him being here so that I am awakened by tiny cries in the night instead of punts and field goals on my right side.

I am grateful to think, though, that when Ransom does get here, he will not only have a mommy who is incredibly in love and in awe with him, but he will also have a sister who has waited with eager anticipation for this month called April to arrive, when Mommy and Daddy said Ransom was coming. I know how much I love my brother, and it gives me great joy to think of how much Emma is going to love hers as she touches my belly and says, "Good morning, Ransom!" She tells me she is going to play peek-a-boo with him... give him bottles... share her pacifiers... So while he may not be receiving the attention Emma did in the womb, he for sure will get the love she did upon arrival.