Monday, February 16, 2009

Viable Eileen

It was the weekend of muffins
It was the weekend of soup
It was the weekend Husband felt like POOP.

Husband has the flu. Well, he had the flu… no… he has it… whatever. Either way, he was icky sick all weekend and he got a dose of what it felt like to be pregnant as he actually got up in the middle of the night and was sick. HAH! I know what that’s like. He was so icky sick that he called in back-up call— something he has never-ever-EVER done-- as he was supposed to go to work on Sunday. We are very thankful that the PEDS department is so efficient that they have things like “back-up call” for situations such as these.

Today I am twenty four weeks pregnant. That means two medical words that make me very happy: Viable Fetus, or as I like to say, Viable Eileen. Twenty four weeks means that if I give birth between now & due date, Eileen has a fighting chance at survival… she would be in the NICU a long time if we were to give birth tomorrow, but from today on, she has more than just a wishes chance.

When we went to the doctor last week, Poppy/Eileen weighed in at 1.5 pounds & was 16.8cm long. You do the math if you want to convert it to inches. Eileen’s ears are fully developed & she LOVES Lil’Wayne. Go figure. Her mother is not a fan, her father is not a fan, but SHE is a fan. (for all you old fogies… Lil’Wayne is a new rap ar-teest) Why can’t it still be Michael Jackson like it was back in November? Speaking of her ears being fully developed, that includes her inner ear and her sense of balance. Eileen knows if she is upside down or right side up, which is probably good because she has not flipped yet; technically she is still breech. But, no one’s concerned- there is still plenty of room in my basketball sized uterus for her to swim around and finally make the flip.

Michael Jackson was how I knew long before anyone else that Poppy was going to be a girl. (I kept my secret to just me and Husband) When I could not take my zofron, but could find a little MJ on XM or the safety of my cd player in my car, my nausea would subside and Poppy would give me a little reprieve from the topsy turvies. It was when she first kicked—Man in the Mirror and it was Billie Jean (not my lover…she’s just the one… claims that I am the one…. I digress) that killed the nausea that nothing could stop. He might be addicted to plastic surgery and be really scary if it is just the two of us in a dark room, but right now—I love MJ. He makes my baby happy.

I can tell now (most of the time) when Eileen is sleeping or when she is awake. For instance, as I type this, she is kicking pretty consistently (probably because I have her head squished up against my desk). Husband can feel her on a regular basis and my belly button is getting smaller by the day, THE DAY! I am really afraid what my belly button is going to look like after this—me and my belly button always got along great and I really thought it was one of the cuter buttons I have seen.

Me & my belly button will back with you soon.

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