Week 16: The bun needs more time in the oven.

 

Christmas has come and gone and Baby Layne and I are well into week 16! ClayWanda is now about the size of an avocado, has long arms and legs to flail about and continues to force me to eat pancakes.  So much so that I received two containers of pancake mix (one box, one shake-n-pour for those I-need-pancakes-its-4am emergencies,)  and a bottle of maple syrup from the In-laws. 

We visited with the Layne family and the most popular question: How are you feeling? I feel fantastic. I quit smoking, no booze, I eat all my vegetables and I sleep as much as I can, how can I not feel great? I urge all of you to do that for a week, pregnant or not, and tell me you don't feel good, I dare you.

Question #2 is, Boy or Girl?

Answer: We don't yet know. Christmas day I talked to Rylee, our two and a half year old, very precocious and chatty niece:

Rylee's Mom: Rylee, do you know whats in Miss Annie's belly?

Rylee: A BABY!

Annie: Do you think its a girl baby or a boy baby?

Rylee: I DON'T KNOW, OPEN IT AND LET ME SEE!

Rylee's Mom then explained the baby wasn't done cooking yet, and we will all have to wait and see... 

15 weeks, or, how much longer can I wear these pants?

Here we are at 15 weeks, or about three and a half months.  I can still wear most of the clothes I own, but considering that Rob and I are both tall people I am going to guess that the little Layne will also be a tall person and certainly one that occupies a lot of my insides. One with curly hair and most likely a sense of humor for anything inappropriate, just like his/her parents.


My co-workers have started making (very creative) suggestions to me about what the baby Layne should be named, and one in particular has stuck: ClayWanda.  Full name: ClayWanda Sparkel (spar-KELL) Layne.  It has quite a ring to it, no?


I began to realize that I might need to invest in a maternity shirt or two several days after ClayWanda's naming day while in conversation with Adam R., the office mate that chose the name.  I stretched my arms above my head and my sweater rode up to reveal a strip of belly skin, the sight of which caused Adam to shriek, "OH MY GAAAAAD I JUST SAW CLAYWANDA'S HOUSE!"

Congrats! You are going to be GRANDPARENTS!

Yesterday was Rob's birthday and we took the opportunity to spill the beans to the family.  The afternoon was spent letting Magda know.  A few days earlier I reminded her that her favorite son-in-law would love a call from her, and so Robby and I began to scheme. The conversation went like this:

Magda: Happy Birthday blahblahblah and I miss you and can't wait to see you both!

Rob: What are you doing in June?

M: (confused) June?

R: Because Annie is going to have a baby in June!

M: (now utterly confused) Annie?? (like she has no idea who I am.)

R: Annie!

M: Your wife Annie?

Amazing.

Later on we met some of the Laynes- and sprung some ultrasound pictures on them without any explanation. I think the pictures say more than I can:

The questioning faces...

...to clarity!

December 8, 2010: Someone has to tell my mother I am pregnant.

To begin: I am preggo! Knocked up! Mit Behbeh! 14 weeks this week! That's three months. I have a three month old little tiny person inside my body.  This person, says the internet, is about the size of a lemon with articulated finger and toes and a face. A face, would you believe?


I wasn't convinced at first that I was harboring a fetus; the only symptoms outside the obvious missing monthly bill were a) the sleeping- I could easily sleep 14 hours a night and, b) THE HUNGER. I can eat, and will eat, anything at anytime, but most of all pancakes. I never really liked pancakes and have avoided them most of my adult life, but these days I crave a flapjack, often at 4 am. 


We haven't told the Moms and Dads yet. Rob's birthday is this weekend so the Layne clan will get the news. We haven't decided when and how to tell Magda just yet.  This will have to be combined with a well reasoned argument about how now is not the best time to sell the house and move next door to us.  Even before becoming pregnant my mother has been anticipating this event.  She came a little unglued when I announced I was getting married, and ever since she has been (not-too-subtly) hinting about wanting a grandchild, a perfectly normal desire. A example of a conversation shortly after I quit smoking:


Magda: "So, are you still not smoking?"
Me: "Yeah, its been a few months and I don't want to smoke at all!"
Magda: "Do you have SOMETHING to TELL ME??"
Me: "Yes, I do.  Mind your own damn business."


I think I am going to insist Rob talks to her. He is much nicer than I am.


So, we have proof that this thing growing inside me is in fact a human and not a rare pancake-craving tapeworm. On December 1st we had our first sonogram and yes, indeed, there is a face and body and arms and legs. The first round of prenatal test are coming back with excellent results and we got some gray, grainy pictures of our little nugget. 

Here is my favorite: two wee teeny little legs all kicked up.  Do me a favor and while you admire the picture of my insides, sing the theme to the Benny Hill Show to yourself and think about those little legs a-kicking.