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I think we’ve got a daddy’s boy on our hands.

The voice of reason in my brain says I’m being ridiculous. Because, really, is it even possible to determine this part of someone’s personality in utero? At 23 weeks of development and only 3½ weeks of actual movement? Really?

But something is seriously going on here. This baby knows his daddy.

Why do I think this? It could just be a coincidence, but this “coincidence” has happened every day without fail for the last two weeks. It doesn’t matter—whether it’s morning, afternoon, evening, or night, whether his hands are cold or hot, or whether whether he’s pestering my belly or just nearby—Ryan always seems to get the biggest, most frequent movements out of this baby boy.

It’s amazing to me.

I get to feel the baby move pretty much off and on throughout the day—once in a while I’ll get a few really good kicks and wiggles, but for the most part he’s just pretty chill most of the time.

However, when Ryan’s in the picture, it’s a-whole-nuther story. It’s like the kid thinks it’s playtime whenever Ryan’s around. Ryan gives me a hug and the kid kicks. Ryan will talk to my tummy and the baby will wiggle and wiggle. The kid really kicks when Ryan puts his hand on my belly—regardless of whether he was moving around beforehand or not. This kid has only had the hiccups twice so far—both when Ryan was there to enjoy them. (And, believe me, they were funny.) This week, the kid’s started kicking when he hears Ryan’s voice for the first time in the morning. Again, maybe it’s a coincidence, but it happens every time.

And I absolutely love it.

Our baby seems to have perfected his ninja stealth training and is apparently now working on his karate chop action.

Suffice it to say that I have been impatiently awaiting the day I would feel this baby move. Since about week 17, I’d been feeling little “maybe movements,” but nothing I felt sure was actually the baby. The doctor said that I was exactly on track for a first-time pregnancy and that the baby “had to get a running head start” to make even those little maybe movements. But he promised me it would happen, I just had to wait.

Luckily, I didn’t have to wait long.

The next day, shortly after 5:00, I was sitting at my desk WHEN IT HAPPENED. I sent the following email to Ryan immediately after (and every time I read it, I feel the same exhilarated rush I felt that first time).

I just felt the baby move in a completely undeniable way.

There was a little blip that was like, “maybe that was the baby.” So I put my hand on the spot and then there was a MUCH BIGGER blip that I could feel so much better because my hand was there.

And then the baby did it THREE MORE TIMES. Ryan, these were so strong that I think you really might have been able to feel them if your hand was on my belly. They were the strongest ones I’ve ever, ever felt and the first ones I was 100% sure were the baby.

It was SO COOL.

Then, to make things EVEN BETTER, that night Ryan and I were spooning, and Ryan had his hand on my tummy. We were just talking about the day when the baby kicked me, just as hard as he had earlier in the day. Ryan’s head flipped around on the pillow, his eyebrows arched as high as I’ve ever seen them—”Was that the baby??” He was so excited.

I was too. I absolutely love that Ryan got to feel the baby move the same day that I did.  (Way to not play favorites with the parents, baby!)

Since then, I’ve been able to feel the baby kick at least a few times each day. Sometimes all I’ll get is one or two kicks, other times I’ll get hours’ worth of movements. Ryan’s even been able to feel one or two other good kicks, though he says that from his perspective they just feel like faint little taps. Since Ryan can’t feel much, he usually doesn’t end up trying to feel for long, but I could seriously just sit with my hands on my tummy for days—every movement is accompanied by a mini-euphoria.

This is, hands down, my favorite part of the pregnancy so far.

We had the big ultrasound last week, and it was even more awesome than I expected. See?

There is a real baby in my belly. And he’s a BOY. And he’s absolutely perfect.

The ultrasound tech was able to get really clear shots of his tiny fingers and toes, we got to see all four chambers of his heart and his bones and organs. Everything appears to be in good working order, which is such a relief.

My favorite moment, hands down, was when I asked her if the baby was moving and she just held the wand still and let us watch him wiggle for a minute. I simply couldn’t believe it.

I couldn’t stop giggling at the last ultrasound, but this one I just felt this profound amazement that everything came together to create this tiny little baby and that this baby was real. And he was going to be my baby. The thought is still so amazing to me.

The ultrasound was over before we knew it, and I walked out asking the same question that I’m still asking myself: “We’re having a boy. What on earth do we do with a boy?”

So we’re still just 19 weeks into this adventure, but this little baby already has  mounds of nicknames to choose from. I don’t really care if any of these nicknames stick, as long as Ryan gets the name and gender right when it’s time to bless this baby. (Recently we sat through a baby blessing where the father insisted on using “it” to refer to the baby through the entire blessing, as in “the name by which it will be known….” That’s just off limits.)

Maybe Baby: Okay, I’ll be honest—this baby had a nickname from the moment we first found out about it. After the first test came back positive, I still couldn’t quite believe that I was actually pregnant. I wouldn’t let Ryan talk about having a baby without qualifying it as a “maybe” baby. After the second positive test, Ryan started calling it a Maybe Plus baby. And he added a plus with each subsequent pregnancy test. (For the record, it got up to Maybe Plus Plus Plus before Ryan decided it was time to just call it a real baby.)

The Potato: In my early struggles with morning sickness, baked potatoes were my go-to option. After eating a few bites, I’d go lay on the couch and hold my tummy and wait for the food to settle in. One evening Ryan asked me how the potato was doing. I thought it was kind of a weird question, like he was referring to the baby in a mixed-metaphor “bun-in-the-oven” sort of way, so I told him that I thought the potato was probably floating around like it always does. He laughed for about three straight minutes before he could tell me that he was, in fact, asking about the potato I’d just eaten. The nickname’s stuck ever since.

Crab Baby: This one developed in tandem with the Potato baby nickname. Since early in the pregnancy, I’ve experienced a frequent and annoying pinching feeling in my lower abdomen. The first few times I mentioned this to Ryan, he would respond with a very concerned, serious tone, “That’s because you’re actually growing a crab inside of you.” (For the record, the baby book says it’s just ligaments stretching.)

Baby Ivy/Ivan: This one came about as a result of the IV situation. Ryan has “officially” changed the baby’s name to reflect the trauma it took to get the baby through the first four months of pregnancy. If Baby Ivan grows up to hate his name, well he’s got no one to blame but himself.

Ninja Baby: So the baby book and the doctor both say that I should be able to start feeling the baby move between weeks 16 and 22 (I know it’s kind of a wide range, right?). I want to feel this baby move more than pretty much anything—it’d just be nice to have some reassurance that everything is going okay—but I’m at 19 weeks and still haven’t felt a thing. Ryan insists that this is because our baby is a ninja. Apparently our baby is moving so silently and sneakily that it’s impossible for me to feel it.

One of my favorite things about being pregnant is looking through my baby name books. Ryan, however, couldn’t quite understand the awesomeness of looking through the baby book—especially when we already had a pretty good idea of what we wanted to name our babies. However, after much persuasion, I convinced Ryan that it was absolutely essential to own not one, but TWO baby name books.

Having these books has actually been a lot more fun than even I expected. With my morning sickness, we’ve had a number of lazy mornings. (Wonderful, awesome, fantastic lazy Saturday mornings.) Oftentimes, I’ll wake up before Ryan and end up leafing through the baby name book to pass the time. He’ll join me when he wakes up, listening to snippets and making “suggestions” of his own. It’s turned into one of my very favorite parts of the pregnancy.

Two of my favorites:

• Tiberius Rex McDaniel. This is probably the #1 best suggestion of all time. Ryan’s justification for the name: It’s cool because, not only does it combine Star Trek and a tough dog’s name, but if he were an apostle, he could be known as T. Rex McDaniel. Every kid under 10 will want to watch Conference! He’ll be everyone’s favorite apostle.
• Ryan John Junior. This would follow the George Foreman tradition. The baby would be known as Junior if it’s a boy and June if it’s a girl. “See, because Ryan’s pretty decent and June’s not a bad name.”

There’s probably 100 others—he seriously cracks name jokes for hours on end—but those are the two that have stuck with me.

For the record, here are the real front runners:

If it’s a girl, we’re leaning strongly towards Lily Mae McDaniel. This is a name we talked about with my Grandma Nadine in the summer before she died, as the name Lily had come up in the conversation. Mae was my Grandma’s middle name, and she said she’d be happy to share it. I love that it has her approval. This one has quickly become the family favorite, and relatives never fail to mention it’s the one we should use. (And, yes, Lily is a Harry Potter name. If our little girl turns out to be like Lily Potter—smart, fun-loving, and beautiful, with a letter from Hogwarts and a strong moral center—I couldn’t be happier.)

However, if Lily doesn’t seem to fit, we also really like Evelyn Ruby—Evie for short. I love that Evelyn is a name that sounds pretty and elegant but can still be taken seriously. Ruby comes from Ryan’s family, from a great aunt he was close to while he was young. If we end up having more than one girl, this one will probably be next.

Other favorite girl names include Madelyn, Elizabeth and the zillion nicknames that go with it (especially Ellie), Clara, Chloe, Lyla, and Stella (even though Ryan always does Elaine’s “Stella” every time I mention it). Ryan’s pointed out that nearly every girl’s name I like comes from the “Antique Charm” section in the baby name book. Apparently I have a name genre. Whatever.

If it’s a boy, we don’t have anything definitive yet. For me, if it ends in -than, I love it—Nathan, Jonathan, Ethan (Ryan says “Ryanathan,” but that takes it a little too far for me). Right now, Nathan John McDaniel is the front runner because John is Ryan’s middle name and Ryan’s father’s first name, and I love that it recognizes both men without becoming a “junior-y” scenario. Also, I think that Nate McDaniel flows well and just sounds like a name that girls could have a crush on.  (Alyssa says I just have a soft spot for the name based on my dating history. True. HOWEVER—as far as I know, Ryan hasn’t ever had a crush on a Nate, and he also agrees that Nate McDaniel is a pretty crush-worthy name.)

Beyond that, if it ends in the en sound (Austin, Brayden, Dylan, Evan… Ryan…), I really like it. The baby name book says that right now over a third of babies in America have a name that ends with that sound. I totally believe it. They’re good names. I also really like Bible names (Nathan, Elijah, Zachary, and especially Luke, even though Ryan insists that if we have a Luke, his middle name will have to be pronounced like a Darth Vader breath—Luke Darth Breath McDaniel).

Everyone, I’d like to introduce you to Kilroy.

At my work, Kilroy is how you announce your pregnancy to the office. When news of the pregnancy gets out, Kilroy will just appear on your desk, to be displayed prominently until someone else makes the big announcement.

I’m not sure if you can tell from the photo, but it’s not the most happy statue. She’s got sad eyes, a frown, and her dress is clearly two sizes too small. It’s kind of a creepy statue, but it’s tradition. You don’t break with tradition.

How long has this been going on? I’m not sure anyone really knows. As long as I’ve been here and, from what it sounds like, as long as any woman’s been here—at least 35 years. One lady in the office, who has been working here since her teens and twice had the statue on her desk (her kids are now in their mid-twenties), swears that a gentleman who started working for my company in 1938 started putting the statue on the desks of his secretaries in recognition of their pregnancies. And it’s been going around ever since.

(Confession: So I didn’t know about the tradition behind Kilroy until she’d been on my desk for a few weeks. When I got her, she was kind of sticky with dirt and grime, and since pregnancy has made me a bit of a germaphobe, I took her home to douse her in Lysol and show her off to Ryan. Just as I was getting off the elevator, I dropped her. She landed a hairsbreadth away from falling down the elevator shaft and being lost for forever. Luckily, I saved her and she didn’t suffer anymore mishaps. But each time I heard new stories of Kilroy, I would get a little sick, knowing just how close I’d come to disaster.

Moral: Never clean anything from work no matter how filthy it may be or you will risk being the WORST. PERSON. EVER.)

So even though the doll is a little creepy, she’s really beloved by my coworkers. After she was placed on my desk, I’d have ladies in the office who would be in the middle of working, then notice the Kilroy, and there’d be a mini-celebration at my desk. This would happen several times a day through the first two or three weeks I had her, and it’s been one of my favorite parts of this pregnancy. I work with a lot of really great ladies. It makes me smile to see her sitting on my desk.

Everybody, I’m okay!

I really appreciate all the concern and well wishes. I have great friends. But seriously, you guys, don’t feel bad for me. In all honesty, these IVs are the best thing I have ever, ever done since becoming pregnant. These IVs are allowing me to keep food in my belly. Do you understand the awesomeness thereof? They’re pretty much my inconvenient best friends.

To answer some common questions:

• How am I feeling? Honestly, pretty good, all things considered. I’m still pretty nauseous, but most days I’m able to keep food in my belly (where it belongs). I still lose it from time to time, but it’s much more controlled now. It feels so nice to be full.
  
• Do you have to go to the hospital? Luckily, no.  I go into the IHC home infusion clinic twice a week to get the actual IV line moved from vein to vein, and then Ryan is a rockstar and gives me the IV fluids from home. Just from home, so I don’t have to cart the IV pole around work with me.
• How long does it take to get? That depends. When everything goes well, I’m supposed to get 10 to 15 drops every 5 seconds; in total, that takes a little over two hours, twice a day. However, apparently there are all sorts of quirky things that affects the drip rate. For instance, with the last needle placement, my IV refused to drip unless I kept my arm completely still, by my side. So for that placement, it took more like 3 or 4 hours, twice a day. (The nurse said what was going on there was that the tiny IV tube would get itself stuck against the wall of the vein when I moved my arm.)
• Do they leave the needle in you all the time? Because science is awesome, I actually don’t have any needles left inside me at all. (The nurses showed me everything the last time we were in there.) What I get is called a peripheral IV line, which means all that’s inside of me is a tiny, flexible plastic tube. Basically, the nurses poke me with a needle that is tightly covered by the tube. When they’ve successfully poked the vein, they use a little spring mechanism to release the plastic tube and voilà! No needles in me. I love science.
• Does it hurt? Yes, they hurt. I honestly hate getting poked with the IV needle. And it can sometimes hurt when I move, depending on the placement of the IV line. However, I can honestly say that IVs don’t hurt anywhere near as much burning-eye vomit. I would take 100 IVs at once if it meant I never had to have burning-eye vomiting ever again.
• How much longer do you have to have them? Well, that depends on my body. I’m on them until I can prove to my doctors I can successfully keep down 2 liters of fluid a day. (Does that seem like a lot of fluid to anyone else? It does to me. But luckily, their definition of “fluid” includes Jamba Juice, ice cream, Frosties, Jello, and other semi-liquid concoctions, which makes my life a little easier.) Therefore, the more fluids I drink/eat and the less I throw up, the quicker I get to get rid of the IVs. As if I already didn’t have enough incentive.

Anyway, I think that should about cover everything—if you have a question I didn’t answer, feel free to ask. Really, the point of all this is to say that thanks to science, I’m definitely improving and hope to be over the morning sickness soon (really, any day now would be more than fine with me…)

I’ve finally made it to the second trimester! You know, that magical trimester my pregnancy book calls “the golden period of pregnancy.” The nausea’s supposed to subside, I’m supposed to start gaining weight, and I’m supposed to have more energy. With how much everyone has talked it up, I’ve been looking forward to this trimester since, oh, about 5 weeks into the pregnancy.

Apparently my body didn’t get the memo. So far, the first week of my “golden period” of pregnancy has resulted in my worst bout with morning sickness to date. By Thursday I’d lost four pounds and hit the point where I was no longer keeping enough fluids down to make my doctor happy. So he prescribed me a new friend:

That’s right, if I wasn’t feeling “old-womanish” enough, I now get to decorate my bedroom with this attractive accessory. I also have some really fashionable accessories.

So, as if he didn’t have enough to do between the cleaning and the cooking and the caretaking, Ryan now gives me one liter of IV fluids, some vitamins, and some anti-nausea drugs (zofran) every morning and evening. This will continue until I can prove to my doctors that I’m no longer dehydrated. In other words, this IV only goes away when my body decides to cooperate—which, given my history, will probably happen on this kid’s 10th birthday. (Only kidding…I hope.)

Luckily, Ryan doesn’t have to stick me with the actual IV—I go into a clinic on Mondays and Thursdays for that. However, he does use a syringe to extract my vitamins from their containers and insert them into my IV pouch and then follows a 500-step procedure to hook the IV line to the pouch and then to me. The coolest—and most surreal—part of the whole routine is having him hook my zofran up to the IV port and inject it directly into my body.

Now, I know I’ve lauded Ryan’s caretaking abilities before, but I seriously was not prepared for this. I don’t think Ryan was really prepared for it either—because who really pictures IV maintenance as part of their marriage? Still, he’s really picked it up well. The whole process seems to have come really easily for him, and he does it all without complaint. Even when it means waking up at 5:00am to ensure the IV drip is done before he has to leave for work.

What can I say? I married a rock star.

So yesterday, Ryan and I went to the long-awaited first doctor’s appointment. Seriously, with how long morning-sick weeks take to go by, I didn’t think it would ever, ever get here.

But it did, and it was magic.

Seeing that baby on the ultrasound screen was absolute, undeniable magic. The main thing the doctor was checking for with this ultrasound was a heartbeat. If an ultrasound is done after 8 weeks and the doctor can see a healthy heartbeat, the risk of miscarriage drops dramatically. So seeing that little heartbeat fluttering away on the monitor—it was the first time I fully let myself believe that this little baby was actually happening. I actually have a baby in my belly. And BOOM!, as soon as I saw that little figure, there was just this bundle of excitement and relief and anticipation and love that crashed into me, and I had to work so hard to stop giggling in order to keep the baby on the screen.

It was just that cool.

Woohoo! It’s your favorite subject! As if one post on morning sickness wasn’t enough! Continue Reading