Mullet Man

Business in the front.

Party in the back.

few words

Blogging takes a lot of time. It involves two hands for typing. I don't have a lot of time during which both hands are free. I have a bunch of posts, floating around in my head, but no time to type them out. For now, be happy with a simply photo post.

Gavin asleep in his sling.

Chelsea helping me make fondant.
Gavin getting excited and starting to smile.

Grinning at me, showing off those cute dimples! At his 6 week appointment, he weighed in at 12lbs, 6 ozs.

Love his smile. Makes everything all worth it.

And now, I'm being beckoned for another feed, so I say good night.

A cake wreck, I am not.

One of my favorite blogs is Cakewrecks. I love it. My favorite cake wrecks are the "this is what they ordered, and this is what they got" kind of posts. For examples, click here and here.

Now when I decorate a cake, I prefer to have a picture to look off of. I'm not a creative person, but I can copy a mean cake. If I don't have a picture, it takes me way too long to think up what I should do. So why re-invent the wheel? You send me a picture of the cake, I'll do the cake. I haven't had any formal training, and I just look and copy.I think I do a pretty good job, if I do say so myself. So this post is going to reveal a few of the "behind the cake" photos.

Sometimes, people give me a general idea of what they want, and I find a picture. For example, a lady told me to do a Star Wars or Lego themed cake. I found this one...

and copied it.

I like when I have a photo to look off of but the client has no idea what I'm going for. That way, although I'm copying a picture, if I change something or it looks a little different, they don't know! This cake, I was told to do a two tiered, crazy Hannah Montana cake. I saw this cake...

and turned the crazy up a notch to get this cake.

Sometimes people send me a picture of a cake that they like...

and I copy it. This is where I get nervous because although my cake is super cute, it doesn't look exactly like the picture. I'm always afraid the client might be disappointed. When someone sends me a picture of a cake from a professional bake shop, I get a little nervous. C'mon! These are professionals...

and then I amaze myself with how close of a replica I can make! Sweet!

This is another example of a photo someone sent me. They said they really liked this cake, but wanted paw prints instead of circles.

Here's my version. The name I made was too big, and had to go in front of the bottom tier. At the time of making the cake, things like this stress me out because "then it won't look the same as the photo", but then I realize that no one studies those photos like I do (I hope!) and probably would never notice. (They were going to put the Littlest Pet Shop figurines on at home, so my cake is missing those.) Some cakes, I manage to copy pretty much exactly.

While with other cakes, I see the picture more as inspiration, if you will. I take a cake like this, (with a paper logo stuck on the side of the cake)...

and I make this! Please note - my logo is made of icing! (Still one of my favourite cakes, ever.)

Sometimes, I take a picture and think "I can do WAY better"...

so I do!

This is the photo of the wedding cake a bride wanted. She was pretty flexible. I was a little nervous because my flowers and leaves turned out much larger than the photo she had sent.

You guys all reassured me that the cake was beautiful, so I really hoped the bride liked it. I haven't heard back from her. I know my cake was stunning, but it did turn out a little different.

(Wow, now that I'm looking at it again, it is very different from the photo. I really hope the bride was pleased!)

Then, there was this cake for today. I think my ladybug's face is WAY cuter, but their leaves are amazing. I didn't have enough room on my board. (and I chose to leave off the beads of dew - at least that's what I think the white balls are.)

There you have it. This post is a pretty vulnerable one for me. haha. I'm a pretty harsh critic of myself. I know my cakes are pretty dang great, but sometimes, when you compare them to what was requested, they do look a little different. But still I know that I'm no CakeWreck!

I know, I know.

I should blog.
Short and snappy.

- life is pretty good. settling into routine with the kiddies, but wish that we could be outside more. today we finally made it to the park, just C, G, and myself. I rocked G to sleep, put him in his stroller, and C and I were off. G of course woke up about 45 minutes later and screamed all the way home, but it was a start.

- i miss exercising, walking and running. soon - very soon - i should be given the okay to start again. i'm eagerly waiting for that "okay". I can go for walks, but G makes it really hard as he screams every time he's in his carseat.

- now that i'm not pregnant, but still carrying all that extra weight, i'm feeling extra self conscious. of course, being asked when i'm due from a random stranger doesn't help. i know i can lose it, but with breastfeeding, i have to be sure to lose it slowly so that it doesn't affect my milk supply.

- my heart has been longing for a few of my friends from the past. i would love to have conversations over coffee with a few of them. i hate distance, both emotional and physical.

- not sure why i decided not to use capital letters. it's not like hitting the shift key takes extra time.

- doing cakes again is fun and i wish i had more time for it. i hate having to turn people away and i've done that alot lately. still call me though, on the off chance that i am free. i don't like hearing that people don't want to call me because i'm so busy. let me decide!

- supper is ready. we're back on SBD phase 2. good times.

Time flies when you're having babies

So I want to say it's been a month, but technically it isn't a month until the 14th. However, it has been 4 weeks, as 4 weeks ago at 2:30something, Gavin made his entrance. Granted this isn't the best picture, but it's how he is exactly at this moment - fast asleep. Love him!

*Edit - I'm adding some statistics. When Gavin was born, he was 21.5" long and weighed 10lbs 4oz. Today, he is 24" long. Two weeks ago, he weighed 10lbs 6oz, and today he weighed in at a whopping 11lbs, 11 oz. That's my boy!

A Tale from Bonneville Farm.

Once upon a time there was a sweet little cow*. This cow loved being outside, frolicking in the fields, chomping on the most wondrous green grass, standing around mooing with all the other cows, occasionally meeting new cows and of course, getting out of the field on occasion to cause a ruckus on the farm. Every once in a while, this cow enjoyed sipping from the trough on the other side of the field that was only for animals of a certain age.

However, one day, something miraculous happened and this innocent, fun-loving sweet farm cow soon realized that life as she knew it had changed. She stared in awe and amazement at the beautiful little calf* staring wide-eyed back at her. She snuggled and loved that baby calf, and realized that for the next little while, it was her sole purpose to provide nourishment to this young one. This often meant that the sweet farm cow had to stay in the barn, missing out on certain events - frolicking, mooing with others, and causing ruckus - because if she left that baby calf, it would make the most awful noises until she returned. That little calf was a hungry one, wanting to eat all the time, and sometimes, only once or twice of course, the farm cow debated running away, with thoughts of hiding in another field, gloriously soaking in the rays of the sun, while sleeping the afternoon away.

It was sometimes messy and chaotic on the farm, even though there were other cows willing to help out. Sometimes, instead of eating home grown, fresh green grass, the other cow in the barn would pick up a quick meal from Old McDonald's farm down the road. In spite of all this, the farm cow loved that tiny calf more than anything. She gladly sacrificed her peaceful days, her slumber-filled nights, her smokin' hot cow body, and her time spent with other cows to nurture that baby calf, knowing that she was doing what was best for that little one.

If you listen closely, you might just hear the occasional moo coming from that sweet farm cow.

"Moo."


*Animals in this story have been changed to protect the true identities of those featured in this story.

Public or Private.

Let me first state that private blogs annoy me. I hate having to log in all the time, even though I click the "remember me" little box. I also hate that my blog feed reader that tells me when someone has updated their blog can't read private blogs, so I have to check each private blog individually to see if it's been updated.

I've loved having a public blog, but it seems the trend lately is for private blogs. There are advantages, sure. Every once in a while I wonder about posting all the pictures that I do, but most of the time, I'm okay with it.

Right now though, I'm just so nosey. I like knowing who is reading my blog and lately I've been getting a lot of hits from Newdale and Neepawa. I'm curious who is reading. Come on - if you've been lurking, introduce yourself! Don't be shy! I want to know who is reading! (This applies to everyone - not just those from those two towns!)

The Great Poop Fiasco of 2009

So I haven't really gone out with both kids and myself just yet. But, the other day I figured I'd pack up and head over to Heather's house to visit while the kids played. Good plan.

So we're happily chilling in the basement, watching the kids play and Gavin was sleeping in his carseat. He wakes up and I lift him out of his seat, only to discover that he's covered in poop and it is smeared all over my arm. Gross, but whatever. I realize I forgot his diaper and wipes in the car and so just as I'm about to go get them, my beautiful, almost potty-trained darling daughter starts walking towards me with her legs spread apart, looking like she's been riding a horse for a week.

"I pooped."

Seriously?? Both kids, poop all over, at the same time?? Is it any wonder that I don't go out in public alone??

Luckily, H volunteered to go get the diapers clean up Gavin, while I was stuck trying to dump poop out of panties, and clean up C. Changing a poopy diaper is much more pleasant than cleaning poopy panties, let me tell you.

There you have it. Poop, poop and more poop.

And just to finish on a cleaner, cuter note...

Labour After Thoughts

- I insisted on stitches not staples. The doctor who was supposed to do my c-section was off call that weekend, and she is one of the few doctors who does sutures, not staples. When I asked Dr.M. to do stitches, he seemed annoyed and asked me why I wanted them and I just kept saying that I heard they were better. His response was, "well, I'll give it a try, I guess." Really, it's not like you staple on the inside, how big of a deal is it??


- My recovery has been amazing. I was walking around 6 hours after my surgery and the next morning insisted that my IV and catheter be removed so I could shower and wear normal clothes. I'm sure a part of this is not having staples. I feel so good. I have to be reminded by Chris to take it easy.

- The toughest part of my recovery was last week and the back pain I experienced. The doctor thinks that a big part of my back pain was how hard I was making Chris press for counter-pressure, and he even checked for bruising. :) It felt good at the time. A lot of the pain though was from having back labour for so stinkin' long.

- Every time I saw Dr. M. after the surgery I teased him about the stitches, telling him that I was going to spread the word that he did them for me and he was going to have ladies lining up for him to do their surgery. The nurses were surprised that he agreed because apparently he can be pretty cranky. I didn't find him cranky, just awkward. The first time he checked on me, he awkwardly rubbed my knee and the second time he kept rubbing my elbow. Maybe in "Bedside Manner Class" he was told that physical contact with patients is a good thing? I don't know, but it made for some odd moments.


- When Gavin was finally born, Dr. K., the anesthesiologist, announced, and this is a direct quote, "It has balls!" I remember saying something about his eloquent announcement, but he just laughed and said, "well, he does!"


- Both the midwives that I had seen my entire pregnancy and the doctor who I had been consulting with were off call the weekend I delivered. I was disappointed, but at the same time, I had an amazing midwife and a great doctor, so it all worked out in the end. I did feel bad for the midwife because we hadn't met until I was in labour, so I feel like she might not have gotten the best impression of me, what with all my groaning and telling her to stop talking, and getting angry at the contractions. At least my midwives that I had been seeing knew me a little and had seen my personality when I wasn't in pain.


- As much as I had been dreading staying at the hospital again, this time really was much more enjoyable. Many of the nurses knew and remembered me from my first c-section and then my appendectomy and came to say hi. Don't get me wrong - the food was still horrible and the rubber mattress on the bed hadn't changed, but I didn't dread every minute that I was in there.


- Why does the hospital insist on having someone come into your room at 5:30 every morning to fill your ice water?? Are patients parched at this particular time? It would wake me up every time no matter how hard they tried to be quiet.

- The same goes for lab work. The lab tech would cheerfully come into my room at 7 a.m. every morning, turning on the lights and opening the blinds to come and take her vials of blood. I don't get it. Are we not supposed to sleep past 7? Was the closed door and dark room not enough of an indication that I was indeed sleeping?

- Ooh and let's not forget the dreaded breakfast that arrives at 8. Cold, soggy, unbuttered toast (served with marmalade - who eats marmalade??), and unsalted porridge. Mmm... sign me up. Yuck.

I think that's it for now. Hopefully now I can move on to other exciting topics for my blog, rather than pregnancy, labour and hospital stays.

Long labour story

My labour and birth story. This is definitely more for me than for you. I'm not sure if I'll wind up posting this because it is ridiculously long, but I wanted to write it down while I remembered it.

Wednesday, June 10

I had an ultrasound because I was 41 weeks. Everything looked good and they estimated that the baby would be 9lbs 14oz.

Thursday, June 11

At my midwife appointment, it was determined that the baby was still way too high and that a natural labour looked almost impossible. I was meeting with the doctor on Friday who would be doing my c-section, if I would need one. My midwife told me to prepare myself for a c-section possibly that Friday, or the following Tuesday. It looked like my hopes of having a natural labour were being dashed.

Around 2 in the morning, I realized I was having a bad night's sleep, waking up every 10 minutes or so having some pretty bad back pains. I was excited! (Little did I know what would come of this. Perhaps that excitement should have been fear!) I also was pumped to discover that I was losing my mucus plug. Possibly too much information, but you don't understand. With Chelsea, my body showed no signs of labour, ever. This was all me - all my body, doing what it was supposed to. Woo hoo!! The contractions continued every 10-11 minutes, all Thursday night and were intense enough that I had to get out of bed each time to find a better position. It was a long night, but I managed to sleep between contractions.

Friday, June 12

I met with the doctor who would be performing my c-section, if I needed one. I was still having contractions, so we decided to schedule a c-section for Tuesday, June 16, if I needed it. Again, I was told that the baby was still way too high but we were hopeful that the contractions would help bring him down. The contractions were coming about every 10 minutes, but were easy enough to breathe through and continue on my day.

Friday night, around 8:30, the contractions became intense again - every 6 or 7 minutes, lasting a minute or so. My midwives were actually off-call this weekend, so a different midwife (who also was amazing) came to my house to check me and see how things were going. We discovered that I was about 2 cm dilated and that the baby had dropped slightly. Progress was being made. She told me to give her a call when the contractions were about 4-5 minutes apart and we'd meet at the hospital later that night, or by morning for sure.

That night was crazy intense. I was up the whole night, because laying in bed was too painful. I did all sorts to ease the pain of contractions - different positions, showering, a hot bath, using counter pressure (thanks Chris), massage, and breathing. All through this, I remained excited, thinking that this way all progress and signs that things were moving in the right direction.

However, Saturday morning, around 7:30 in the morning, the contractions started to go away. Disappointed, I called the midwife to say that the contractions were again about every 10 - 15 minutes apart. She told me to take the day to sleep as much as I could because it was her experience that the labour would probably begin again at night. I spent the day sleeping, only getting up for a few minutes at a time. I was exhausted.

Saturday night, the contractions began again... slowly at first about every 10 minutes, then 7 minutes, then consistently about every 6 minutes apart. I called the midwife that was oncall and let her know what was going on. She said to phone her when they were about every 4-5 minutes apart, lasting for about a minute. We planned to just meet her at the hospital.

During the night, we tried to sleep but it wasn't working well. By 12:30, we were up and around, labouring mostly in the kitchen. My contractions suddenly went from every 6 minutes apart to every 3 - 3 1/2 minutes apart. Chris wanted to phone the midwife with the first 3 minute contraction, but I wanted to wait. I didn't want to wind up going to the hospital only to have the contractions slow down again.

But after about 45 minutes of contractions every 3 minutes, we called the midwife and set off to good old Hotel Boundary Trails at 3:30 in the morning. We met the midwife there and laboured for a while just moving around, trying different positions. I had to get my dreaded IV put in (I have a serious HATRED of the IV), but the nurse did well and got it in on the first try. I was pretty proud of myself for not crying during the IV process. My midwife began to fill the birthing pool and just before I got in, she checked and I was at 6cm. I was pumped that things were happening, but again, we were concerned because the baby was just too high up. We were hoping the contractions would bring him down.

I got in the birthing pool and it felt like instant relief... for a few minutes. I was able to relax in the pool between contractions, but my contractions were certainly intense and painful. Chris joined me in the birthing pool so that it was easier for him to apply counter pressure on my back during each contraction.

One of the concerns with the baby being so high is that if my water were to break and gush, the cord can come out and over the baby's head. On Thursday night, the midwife had told me that if my water were to break and gush at home (not a slow leak) that I was to get on my shoulders and knees and call 911. That scared me, so I was glad to be at the hospital when my water did break. It broke while I was in the birthing pool, so my midwife checked me right away and everything was good. I'm still a little disappointed that I didn't get to see the gush, but I'm over it.

I have no clue how long we stayed in the birthing pool. I had lost all track of time by now. When my water broke, I had been at 8cm, but we discovered it wasn't a true 8, and when the water broke it was really only 6cm. We decided to get out of the pool and try some different positions to ease the pain of contractions and hopefully bring the baby down.

Easier said than done. My contractions suddenly started coming back to back. I'd have 4-5 minutes of contractions and only 30 seconds to a minute to recover. I thought I was going to die. I'm sure I was saying inappropriate things and making rather odd noises. At this time, my body started pushing, attempting to get the baby down into the canal. It wasn't working, and during each contraction I was being told to stop pushing and breathe, but I swear it wasn't me pushing! It was crazy. I begged for drugs as I was somewhere between 6-8 cm and wasn't getting a break between contractions. While waiting for the glorious anesthesiologist to show up for my epidural, I was given the laughing gas and something in my IV. Even this was such a relief. I was at least able to breathe and felt like I was flying. In response to something my midwife asked me, all I could say was "I'm in la la land. I love this." I remember asking if the midwife was mad that I was taking drugs and she reassured me that all was good and that drugs were for women who had long intense labours and I had earned it. I was happy.

I think I fell in love with my anesthesiologist. I'll call him Dr. K. He was fantastic, although I don't remember too much because I was sucking back the laughing gas like it was a vanilla milkshake. He was reassuring and telling jokes and was encouraging. When I got the epidural, I was sooo pleased because it actually worked. When I had Chelsea, the epidural didn't work like it was supposed to and I could still feel every contraction, but couldn't move my legs. This time, it worked like a charm - almost. I could feel no more pain in my back or belly and could walk around, but because of the way the baby was positioned, I could feel every contraction in my bum. It was painful and odd. Dr. K. came back and put something in my IV for bum pain. Who knew there was such a wondrous drug?

Shortly after the epidural, but before the bum pain meds came, the baby's heartbeat began to show signs of stress. I had to lay on my side and be hooked to the monitors. They told me it would only be for 20 minutes, so I thought I could handle it. Although the epidural was working, the bum pain was ridiculous and it was magnified by the fact that I couldn't move. I had to lay there on my side and not move during each contraction. Although they told me 20 minutes, because they were concerned, I had to be monitored for over an hour. It was horrible, but sometime in there Dr.K. showed up and used his magical powers to take away the bum pain and I was able to relax and even rest a little.

Soon, I was up and walking around, dilated to a full 8 cm. This was around 11:00 in the morning. The problem was that even though I was feeling no pain (it was AMAZING!) my body was still pushing with every contraction. This isn't a good thing. My cervix began to swell and that's when we knew it was over. The baby was simply not coming down and once the cervix swells, it takes too long to recover to let it dilate again. I was given until 1:00 to see what my body would do, but we weren't hopeful. At 1:00 Dr.M. shows up and says that this has gone on long enough and it was time for the c-section. At this point, no one could argue. I had done my best, given my body every opportunity to do what it could, but it wasn't working. Another c-section it was. I was at peace with this. I had tried, but it simply wasn't working.

Suddenly the room was filled with people and I don't remember much. As I was being prepped for surgery, everything caught up with me and I fell asleep. I remember thinking that they must have put something in my IV to make me sleepy but everyone was laughing at how I just slept through it all, all by myself. No extra drugs, just pure exhaustion.

In the operating room, Dr. K. was by my side the whole time - again reassuring me, distracting me and trying to stop my shivering with warm blankets. They didn't need to give me a spinal, they were able to use the epidural. This was great because I still had full use of my hands and arms and I didn't need another injection site in my back. With C, I couldn't feel my hands for a long time after the surgery which made bonding with the baby very difficult.

Chris soon joined me and we waited with anticipation to meet our baby boy. We were all talking and laughing and waiting for this baby to make his appearance. Having a c-section really is a surreal experience because there is so much going on beyond that little blue curtain, but you have no idea what it is.

I kept asking what was taking so long because I had been told that from the first incision to getting baby out takes only 7-8 minutes and it felt way longer. Again, I was unaware of what was really going on. The baby was so stuck that they had to work hard using forceps to get him out. Then, because he had pooped, he was taken away for a few moments to get cleaned up and suctioned out. I'm told they had to work a bit to get him to breathe, but finally we were presented with the most amazing little boy.

What an ordeal. What an experience. What a long blog post.

Love.

Finally!

Gavin Christopher 10lbs 4 oz

21.5 inches long

born Sunday, June 14 at 2:46 p.m.

More to come later!

This post brought to you by the letter C.

Well, since I'm still around with no baby to hold just yet, I thought I'd write a post about my Little Miss C. She is ridiculous amounts of fun. She talks non-stop. Some of my favourites are:
- "I do it all my by-self." (I hear this one a lot.)
- "Where that noise coming from?" (in reference to ANYTHING)
- "Where my... (insert any of the neighbour's names here) at?" (She's a touch in love with the neighbours.)
- When asked why she did something... "Because I don't know..."
- "I don't know either"
- "I love you lots, Mommy."

- "Mommy, come follow me!"

- "I sorry, Mommy. Kiss better?"

- "No more camera. I no like pictures."

- "Turn 'round. I do your hair now."

and my favourite.... said in her very high pitched excited voice, "Mommy! I so proud of you!!"

You can tell she hears that phrase a lot at Shirlie's and at home.

There are a whole bunch more that I just can't think of. She just makes me laugh and laugh.

On another note, it's no secret that I love garage sales. I bought Chelsea a helmet and a princess scooter for $6. $6! She loves it and is pretty good at it already. It's got flashing lights, streamers, and a bell.

She will play with her "sooter" for a long time. Until of course, she gets distracted by a bug.

Well, there you have it. A picture post of my big girl.

Oh, and my favourite quote from her lately? She lifted my shirt and yelled at my tummy - "Baby - get out!"

I concur.

Confessions...

I have fear about this labour that I can't let go of. I know there is still some time and things can happen, and I am praying that they will, but there are no signs of anything anytime soon. So, keep praying!

But, I want to be real. I really want a VBAC. I did not want a c-section with Chelsea, and wound up being induced for 4 days before it finally ended with a c-section. They started inducing me when I was 6 days overdue, and I had her 4 days later. I was the girl who wanted a natural labour with no drugs. A c-section was my worst nightmare. And that's what happened.

After the experience, I didn't think my recovery was that bad, but I've been told that a c-section recovery is way worse. My first experience was also tainted because my appendix ruptured a month after C was born and I wound up back in the hospital for another 10 days. Jokingly, I told the doctor when C was born to put in a zipper because I was never going to go through that labour again. When a month later, I needed to have another abdominal surgery, I again asked for a zipper!

This time around, I wanted it differently. I was given the opportunity many times to choose to have a scheduled c-section. Oh the convenience... to know exactly when I'd be in the hospital and for how long. To know when I'd get to meet my son. To know how to arrange childcare for Chelsea. To know when to pack my bags. To know all these unknowns. This would have been nice.

However, I do know that the best thing for me and for my baby is to try. I'm looking forward to an easier recovery, to knowing that my body finally did what it was supposed to, to know that I did it.

But as time passes, I'm sensing a repeat of what happened with Chelsea. I'm overdue (and yes I realize it's only 4 days) but there are NO signs of anything happening. He hasn't dropped and isn't in the proper position. There are many other things that I could tell you aren't happening, but I'll leave that all to your imagination.

Good things I need to focus on:

- I'm in MUCH better shape this time around than I was with Chelsea.

- I needed to be induced with C because my blood pressure was high and my liver was showing signs of not working properly. With the exception of the last 2 weeks I was at work, my blood pressure has been amazing and everything is great.

- I was retaining sooo much water with C. I had carpal tunnel and couldn't hold a pen, razor, or anything. I had to wrap my wrists to sleep. My wedding rings were long gone. My toes were sausages and my ankles were officially cankles. This time, none of that. (and my rings are still on! PTL!)

- I know that I have done everything to encourage a natural labour. I have amazing midwives and I have jumped on the trampoline, bounced on the birthing ball, stood (is that what you do?)on my hand and knees, pumped, gone swimming, taken herbs, visualized, prayed, done squats and lunges and who knows what else to get this guy to drop. I am doing my part.

- I know that I have done all that I can to avoid a c-section. If it still happens, it isn't my fault.

Things that scare me.

- IVs. I HATE IVs. HATE HATE HATE

- surgery and the risks of infection.

- risk of fluid in the baby's lungs because it doesn't get squeezed out.

- how I'll handle a c-section recovery with a toddler.

- having to spend 4 days in the hospital. I don't really like the hospital.

I'm just really scared that it's going to be a repeat. I'm scared of being induced again only to have another c-section.

So there you have it. Fears. I hope they aren't what's holding me back. I release all this now. I don't want fear. I want freedom and peace no matter how this plays out. All I really want at the end of this is to see my healthy baby boy. So c'mon baby! I'm sure you are much cuter than the view I see every day!

40 weeks!

Well, I made it. 40 weeks. Crazy. I thought at 40 weeks I was big with Chelsea, but checking out my 40 week photo with this baby, I am a TANK! Look at how round the belly was with Chelsea and how pointy it is this time. I think it's a boy. ;)

Oh and a few people have commented that I really haven't gotten much bigger in the past few weeks. Well, I haven't gained any weight (I actually lost about 14 pounds in the past few months), but this picture shows my belly 5 weeks ago, and then last night (June 3 - my due date).

I see a whole lot of belly growth, don't you??

I do have to brag about something. I am still wearing my wedding rings. :D With Chelsea, I retained so much water, I had to stop wearing them around 30 weeks, and I hated having to take them off. This time, I'm retaining very little water thanks to a trick my midwives told me. I love it!

Anyways, there is no signs of anything happening soon, so keep praying! I would like this baby out soon!