Elijah Edward arrived 4:01pm on Friday (May 11th). He weighed in at a mighty 6lbs 15oz and is 19.5 inches long. He has a head of dark brown curly hair and dark blue eyes that we imagine will lighten up like his dad’s in no time. We are home, happy, healthy and about 800 kinds of exhausted. I promise to share more soon, but in the meantime, here’s some Eli pictures to hold you over. I know I’m biased, but he’s pretty much the cutest thing I’ve ever seen.

You don’t know me, I’ve never been to your state and very possibly never will. But I feel like you need you to know that you made a huge mistake today.

You should know right off the bat that I am straight and married and I live in a state that made a similarly awful mistake several years ago that we’ve been trying to undo ever since then. We aren’t perfect either, but I’m happy to say that we’ve recognized our mistake and I’m hopeful that you will too.

History is full of people overcoming mistakes like these.

Hundreds of years ago we had slavery and more recently issues with African American suffrage. People fought tooth and nail to keep their slaves, to prevent African Americans from voting. They quoted the bible, they stood on tradition. They felt that they were doing what was right even when others around them knew otherwise. And do you know what happened? Slavery was abolished and African Americans were allowed to vote. Because eventually cooler, more open minds prevailed.

How about women’s rights? For hundreds of years women weren’t allowed to vote, weren’t allowed in the work force. And when women fought for rights, people quoted the bible, they stood on tradition. They felt that they were doing what was right even when others around them knew otherwise. And do you know what happened? Women got the right to vote. They may still not have completely equal rights, but we have come a long way because eventually cooler, more open minds prevailed.

What you voted on today will someday be in history books. Not because it was a good decision, in fact, because it was the opposite. Some day we will be reading about how you tried to withhold equal rights from American citizens. We’ll read about how you quoted the bible, how you stood on tradition. How you felt you were doing what was right even when others around you know otherwise. We’ll see how you’ve stood on Christianity as your justification when in reality Christ would’ve been horrified by the things proponents of this Amendment have said.

You may have voted against equal rights, but you will not win because the rest of us see your mistake. Our laws are not based on your bible and they are not supposed to be. Our laws are based on the constitution which gives all men equal rights.

What you did today was not a victory. It was a tragedy. It was a mistake that is going to take years to undo. It was a shining example of close-mindedness, of hiding hatred behind religion. I just hope that someday soon you realize that you discriminated against your fellow man in the name of God. I hope you realize that in Jesus’ name you offered hate to your neighbor, instead of love.

I look forward to the day that this Amendment gets overturned. To the day when we stop hiding our hatred behind religion. To the day that equal rights are a given instead of a fight.

With great sadness and frustration,
Katie

I have yet another AFI/NST tomorrow morning at like 8, so we’ll see how my amniotic fluid is holding up. It has been on a pretty steady decline, so we’ll see how long they let us go. I wouldn’t be surprised if we were below the threshold of 5cm tomorrow, I was only at 6.5cm of fluid on Thursday.

I haven’t watched the Chopped All Stars finale, but please please please don’t let Penny have won. We’ll be watching it before bed tonight.

After 4 weeks of doing nothing, my husband finally made me get off my ass today, and you know what? It was nice. We went to the farmer’s market and got tamales and strawberries and then later took a trip to a amusement park type place and played a round of miniature golf. I lost by a stroke today, which is very, very unlike me, so naturally, I’m blaming the baby. Surely this is all his fault.

I do not understand people who run marathons. I mean, I used to run, I remember loving the rush you get from running a race, but 26 miles? I’m sorry, I don’t even really like to drive that far, let alone run. I once ran 13 miles and when I finally finished I realized I had just wasted 2 hours of my life and vowed to never run that far ever again. And I have kept that promise to myself. In fact, I have kicked that promise’s ass.

Husband and I (ironically, given my last rant) drove 25 miles for crawfish tonight for dinner. It isn’t really New Orleans-y enough, but it more or less satisfied the craving I was having. I would kill for a good crawfish boil right now.

There is a MIL situation brewing that is making me completely crazy. My husband gave me permission to write about it, but I’ve hesitated because I don’t want to bad mouth her too much, but dude, I am about to lose it. Her stupid ass dogs keep showing up in my apartment, she has reminded me 800 times that labor is going to last for days and that I’m foolish for hoping/thinking it could be any shorter and oh, my SIL is making a huge mistake with everything in her life. Newsflash: I hate your fucking dogs, labor will last as long as it needs to, I have zero expectations, and my SIL can make her own decisions without everyone weighing in.

And that’s not even everything, but it’s where I’m cutting myself off before I scream again.

I made homemade granola bars tonight because that’s how badly I didn’t want to go to the grocery store to buy breakfast foods. They only took a few minutes to toss together. If they end up tasting good, I’ll either share the link or demonstrate the recipe. We’ll see how strapped for time and blogging material I am after the baby arrives.

If he arrives.

And with that, I’m going to watch Chopped All Stars and go to bed. Hopefully tomorrow will be the day, but let’s not hold our breath, just in case.

Every day that this baby doesn’t make his appearance is another day that I sit around and worry, endlessly, that something is going to go wrong and we won’t catch it in time. That we will be returning home from the hospital without a baby. Yes, it is morbid. It consumes my every moment, trust me, I’m well aware of exactly how morbid it is.

My desire to deliver this baby soon is not just selfishness. It’s not even really being uncomfortable. I mean, I sit on the couch all day, I’m not that miserable, I’m pretty lucky really (though I could seriously do without the 2 hours of intense contractions that then just evaporate into the air). My desire to have this baby is partially based on the fact that I have waited SO long to get here and partially because I’m afraid if we wait too long, something bad will happen.

This is a fear born out of education, I know too much. I know the statistics. I know that the rate of complications increases once you’re over term, especially over 41 or 42 weeks. I know the things that can go wrong, the long term consequences. I’ve seen them, I have worked with the mothers of these children, I’ve worked with some of the children who have the best case scenario outcome.

I am terrified.

I obsess over kick counts. This afternoon the baby didn’t move at all during the first 40 minutes of the hour I was counting. I tried everything you’re supposed to try. Cold water, juice, laying on my left side. I pulled out our doppler and listened to his heartbeat, which made me feel better, but a heartbeat doesn’t mean that nothing’s wrong. And when a baby isn’t moving because of distress it’s because he’s conserving oxygen, his heart will still beat.

I just felt so unbearably scared. So entirely weighed down, unsure of what to do. I have tests and an OB appointment tomorrow morning, so rushing to the hospital seemed unnecessary, and eventually with some music, he woke up and moved. I judge my child a little bit for only responding to Glee and Kelly Clarkson, but in spite of his girly taste in music, I am just beyond relieved.

I just cannot shake the fear. I cannot shake the relentless feeling that something will go wrong. I am so excited to have this baby, so excited to meet him and be his mother. But every day he’s not here is like a marathon of emotions, of fear, of panic. I can put on a happy face just long enough to pass as okay (which is good since my MIL is apparently coming out here soon, and staying indefinitely, which, no I actually don’t want to talk about at all because it makes me want to scream and while that does seem to wake the baby up, it seems not so great for my blood pressure), but inside, I’m afraid. Always.

I don’t know what there is to do except wait. Try to stay calm. Not try to pretend like I’m fine when I’m not, because I know that’s making it worse. I just need this baby to come. I need to know he’s okay. I need him in the world where I can care for him because right now, I can’t. And it’s making me crazy.

And honestly, there is next to nothing going on in my life right now besides being pregnant, so this might end up short and baby heavy. Literally all I’ve done for a week is sit on the couch and will my child out. Very ineffectively, obviously. I’ve mostly just discovered that I can cause myself to have a contraction whenever I want to, if I just sit up straight. And if I stay sitting up straight, I will continue to have them, but they don’t get strong or close together, so sitting up straight just seems mostly like personal punishment.

We had dinner at Denny’s tonight (a whopping 15 dollar dinner, it was awesome) and the sign at the entrance said, “Were glad your here.” And then my brain broke from the grammar fail. It was made better by their sign that said “We do not accept 50′s.” Apostrophes are hard, man.

I’ve become oddly obsessed with Charlie Wilson’s War this week. I’ve watched it like 4 times. I just love it.

The weekly cat update… They’re both on all new dry food and seem to be enjoying it. Except my cat has gained 2 pounds in 2 weeks. I swear, I do not even know what to do with these animals. I feel like we cannot win. No food fulfills them but doesn’t fatten them up. Or if it does, it makes one of them puke repeatedly. Why are my cats so complicated?

Giada De Laurentiis looks like a bobble head. With more teeth than any other person ever.

We have a giant pile of crap near our front door now. It’s our hospital crap. My hospital bag, husband’s hospital bag, boppy, shoes, laptop bag. All just waiting. FOR A BABY TO COME. Or for us to trip and fall over it. Whichever happens first.

Speaking of which, I have another ultrasound for fluid measurements and a non-stress test tomorrow to see how the baby is tolerating life inside. Last week he had several decelerations of his heart rate while being monitored, so I’m anxious to see how he’s doing. I obviously want all of this to be normal and for him to be happy and healthy, but damn I would not hate it if they had to induce me tomorrow. Selfish, I know. But my eagerness to be finished with pregnancy is a mix of being completely miserably uncomfortable and wanting to finally meet my baby. I’ve been waiting a very long time to have a baby and these last few days and weeks have been excruciating. I will wait as long as I need to, but I’m seriously ready now.

I was awakened yesterday to an earthquake. Truthfully, it wasn’t a big deal, but it was a weird one. It was like a big jolt, little rumble, big jolt, little rumble, big jolt and over. The cat and I both woke up, sat up, and then laid back down. It did make me realize that we have absolutely nothing to climb under in our whole upstairs. And since I know our doorways are not fortified, which means they’d be equally worthless, I’m really not sure what I’d do in a big earthquake. Probably run into a doorway anyway. Old habits die hard.

Alright, there is a slice of peanut butter pie in the fridge calling my name. And we’re halfway through Chopped All Stars, so I’m done for tonight. Think lots of labor thoughts for me please. Hopefully I’ll be updating you this week with pictures of my baby and all the lovely details of his birth. Okay, not all the details. But you know what I mean.

I should begin by thanking you for doing a good job for the last 9 months. Aside from being kind of bitchy and unnecessarily contract-y since 25ish weeks, you’ve done a great job of housing my son. I could not be more appreciative of that. If you had hands, I’d high five you. You’ll have to settle for an imaginary fist bump.

That said, as much as I am enjoying the painful, irregular contractions that are doing NOTHING to dilate my cervix, it’s time for you to get your ass in gear. And by ass in gear, I don’t mean 19 hours of regular contractions that evaporate into thin air. Because that was not my favorite day. I mean, real labor.

You were designed to do just this. Your mission in life is to gestate and expel a baby. You’ve done the first part, now it’s time to do the latter. I am losing my mind. My parents are waiting by their phones, practically doing labor dances, waiting for this baby to show up. People are counting on you.

IT IS TIME.

LET MY PEOPLE GO.

I realize that my official due date is still a little over a week away. Please do not feel required to go that long. The baby is fully cooked, he’s running out of room and out of fluid and his mother is running out of sanity. Everyone keeps insisting that once you do your job I’ll be miserable and not sleeping, but SURPRISE, I’m already miserable and not sleeping, so I may as well have a baby to obsess over while I’m awake all night instead of just painful hips and contractions. Not that those aren’t super fun.

If you cannot be persuaded to get this show on the road, can I at least request that you then simmer the hell down? I really feel like you shouldn’t be able to have it both ways, and another week or two of these contractions, without actual labor, might make me lose my mind. Which I know is of great consequence to you.

In closing, thank you again for holding onto my son for 9 months, but it’s my turn now. I am never going to be prepared for the pain that lies ahead, but waiting is not making it better either. Let’s get this party started. Like now.

Love,
Katie

It started at midnight with contractions that got progressively more painful and closer together and made me convinced that holy crap, I was going to have a baby.

Spoiler alert: I’m still pregnant. Also grumpy and tired.

Throughout the day yesterday the contractions were reliably every 7 minutes for 19 hours straight. And because contractions aren’t fun enough, I was also horribly nauseous most of the time, which meant I didn’t eat or drink enough, which just made me feel more lousy. And then around 7:30 last night, the contractions stopped. Like, I maybe had 1 after 7:30, but that was it.

And today I’ve had like 2 (oh, had another one while writing this, clearly he disapproves of my contractionless braggery), and while they were absolutely freaking awful (I love that the hurt from my boobs to my thighs, yay nerve distribution), they certainly aren’t indicative of labor anytime soon.

I have a doctor’s appointment on Thursday morning and have to get an ultrasound later on Thursday to check my amniotic fluid levels (they’re low, so I’m basically just supposed sitting at home right now, drinking as much water as possible), but I’m pretty sure this kid won’t be making his appearance anytime soon. Especially if it’s up to him. Though he seems to love torturing his mother, he doesn’t seem to be eager to join the rest of the world outside my uterus.

In other less ranty and painful news, I did post pictures of the nursery, but never came over here to link them. There are more pictures here that you can click through to show the progression of the nursery from start to finish, but for your trouble, here are a few here too.

And that’s pretty much all that’s going on. We’re just waiting, impatiently. Basically, I’m being held hostage by a baby.

And every time I say that I’m ready for the baby, my husband tells me he needs to cook longer. And then I punch him in the face because he’s not lugging this baby around in his uterus.

The nursery is finished. There will be pictures tomorrow, I’m just too lazy to get the camera from upstairs, edit and post pictures now. But I promise, it’s on my to-do list. Barring the birth of the child tomorrow, the pictures will be up by the afternoon.

I have no words for Chopped All Stars right now except that tonight’s episode and winner make me irate. And that winner better not win the whole thing or Food Network is dead to me. Not really, but almost.

So the cats. The dry food thing came to a screeching halt when Karma decided it would be awesome if she just puked all over the place on Wednesday and Thursday. I mean, ALL OVER THE APARTMENT. Though notably, she never ever did it when my husband was home, because obviously. On the other hand, on the dry food my cat became SUPER mellow, like to the point that we hardly ever saw him and he almost completely stopped begging and fighting when hungry. It was kind of lovely. But, because Karma the ruiner, ruined it, we went back to the moist food, and almost immediately, my cat went back to being a tremendous douche whenever he was hungry.

So, we decided to try a different dry food and to phase it in instead of going gangbusters with it. I know, what a novel idea. Today we picked up a brand recommended by my MIL (you’ll be shocked to know she’s an expert in cats, too), and to our surprise, instead of looking at us like we had killed their puppy dogs when we put it in their bowls as they did last week, both cats happily scarfed down the food this afternoon. Hopefully Karma can tolerate this and it will reduce my cat’s aggressiveness again. I’ll hold my breath in the meantime.

If you cut up zucchini really thinly, cook it and try to pretend it’s pasta, you’re dead to me.

Husband and I watched Contagion today. It was actually really good, but also, it makes you never want to leave your house or touch anything in public ever again. Every time they showed an interaction I cringed because dude, we do that all day and I don’t want to diiiiiie. Maybe not the best movie to watch before going to the hospital to have a baby, but eh. What can you do?

Due date is in 13 days. I would not mind if the baby made his appearance in the next week. Would not mind at all. HINT HINT NUDGE NUDGE, baby.

Tomorrow I will officially have fulfilled all my requirements for my doctorate.

And in less than a month, I’ll either walk across the stage or be mailed a diploma that indicates that after 3 years of extremely hard work, I’ve finished. And with a graduating GPA of 3.74, which exceeded any GPA I ever imagined. I’ll have new initials to put after my name (on important documents), I’ll have a fancy title. I will be as educated as I am ever going to be.

I want to say something profound, because this truly feels profound, but words are failing me right now.

I’m not sure if I ever really thought this day would come. I have had April 20th, 2012 starred on a calendar for almost 3 years. It was my end goal and then everything just…got derailed. There were headaches, MRIs, lumbar punctures, blood patches, more MRIs more lumbar punctures. There were weeks of school missed, days of nothing but constant crying and disbelief that things would get better. Things felt completely hopeless time and time again. I really thought that my dream was done.

And here I am, at 10pm on April 19th. I’ve done it. I made up missed exams, I caught up on missed lectures and studied more than I ever thought was humanly possible. I found a balance that allowed me to take care of myself and still master the material. I somehow didn’t give up, even when it was all I really wanted to do.

Tomorrow, I am finished.

April 20th was always the light at the end of the tunnel. And we’re finally there. And I have to say, it is glorious.

I am just sick of it.

I’m so sick of sad and predictable stories about good bills not being passed because of partisan politics. I’m tired of jabs being made on both sides, of name calling, of seemingly constant back and forth nit pickery. I’m tired of everyone’s motives constantly being questioned and our inability to trust anyone to ever have the country’s best interests in mind, whether justifiably or not.

The truth of the matter for me is that I think Romney or Obama would be fine as president, largely because if we’ve seen anything in the past 4 years it’s that the president has very little power when Congress is divided. My vote will go to Obama because I feel strongly that he has the interests of the middle class at heart and because he is more socially liberal, but I don’t think Romney would be the end of the world. We are looking at two moderates who just lean slightly more to one side than the other. Two husbands and fathers, neither of who are demons, neither of who are out to get you. These are two good men, so why do we spend so much time tearing them apart?

I’m tired of the bumper stickers, of comments on news pieces, of people who cannot simply agree to disagree or who cannot stick to issues. I’m tired of personal attacks that don’t need to be made, of horrible names that these men are being called.

Politics can certainly feel personal. I have some extremely strong feelings about a number of political issues, but my point is no better made with yelling, screaming, name calling and general douchebaggery than it is with calm and rational discourse. In fact, once you resort to any of the above things, I’m done. Your point is lost.

I’m ready for it to be election day, I’m ready to begin the next 4 years and the end of the campaigns. I’m ready for Congress to get their asses into gear, to stop playing games and actually take a moment to consider what this country needs instead of what’s best for their political party or candidate. I’m tired of the games.

I never thought I’d say this, but for the first time in my life, I just want to be finished with politics. I want to bury my head in the sand and not hear or read any of the stories. I want for us to rediscover our basic humanity and come together as a country to focus on rebuilding instead of on separating. I just wish I foresaw that instead of 6 more months of bickering, name calling and other ugliness.

I really think we can do better.