Baby Dowdel

I want to thank everyone who has read along with this blog and supported us during these past several months and especially over the last four days. Our baby girl came into the world on Sunday, May 27th at 2:05 a.m. Rain Annalise was right on time for her due date and weighed 8 lbs., 15 oz. and was 20 in. long.

Liza will finish her goodbye soon.

Thanks again,
Tim

The Long Goodbye (Part 3): Loose Ends

I had preliminary pains for about 12 hours yesterday, so I must write quickly! Tim will post news of the baby when she(?) arrives, so if you'd like to know, check in later ("later" means tonight or in two weeks, whenever Baby Dowdel decides to make an entrance). Where shall I begin?

Physically: this past week has been plain uncomfortable, even for hardy Grandma Dowdel. I think I've managed (read: didn't cry over) the pain, but I've learned there's one thing that's tough to do without: sleep. I've been too uncomfortable to sleep well, and that brings out the demon in me faster than a camel can spit. I change positions every couple of hours, and I've run poor Tim into the ground. More on Tim later.

Emotionally: I've had a couple of tear fests, but nothing I'm horribly ashamed of. This morning's was a bit much, mainly because I was caught by surprise. I was reading the last few chapters of my parenting book (reviewing the signs of false labor), and I came upon a section about what to do if a baby dies in utero, during delivery, or shortly after. I immediately thought, "Now, there is NO reason for me to read this section. It will only upset me, and it serves me no purpose to continue." Two pages later, the tears were flowing and I could not stop myself from reading. I could not imagine the deep sorrow of coming home from the hospital to a nursery all ready for a baby and ... no baby. I mean, every toy, every blanket, the crib--everything has been carefully chosen by you or a loved one for your son or daughter, a piece of your thoughts went into every item, and yet--OK, OK, I'm stopping myself now. I should have done that earlier today. I felt so bad then that I couldn't even read the rest of the information, which was probably a good thing. Tim's going to end up taking all of my books and magazines away, I can tell.

Speaking of Tim: I'm going to go ahead and give a shout out to my husband. Throughout my pregnancy, and especially this past week, Tim has been textbook supportive. He always asks the question any MTB loves to hear: "What do you want?" He's Johnny-on-the spot taking care of heavy lifting, dishes, taking out the trash, etc. He's taken my sometimes unreasonable rantings with a she-didn't-really-mean-it attitude, and God bless you, Honey, 'cause I didn't! I'm sorry for the times I've been bad; I was under duress, I was raised by wolves, I forgot my meds, it was my twin sister--ya gotta believe me!

Freebies: OK, for those MTBs looking for useful things or those out there who are shopping for a baby shower gift, let me go ahead and give you my best list:
THE BEST PREGNANCY STUFF
1. Snoogle
This body pillow took a beating, and I love it more because of it. Unfortunately, I'll have to break the seam on it to shove more stuffing into it (Mr. Snoogle has a rough life), but it'll be worth it.
2. Bella Band
At $25 a pop, this band of elastic cloth seemed over-priced. Now I say, "Worth every penny!" It's super easy to use, saves you money (you don't have to buy as many pregnancy pants), and smooths out body shapes. Love it!
3. Parenting classes
Yes, I mocked them plenty of times, but the thing is, I learned a lot from them. People assume MTBs know how to breastfeed, give a baby a bath, and handle emergency care. Um, no.
4. What to Expect When You're Expecting
Whatever parenting book you chose, just get one. There will be times when you'll have a question you're too embarrassed (or forgetful) to ask your doctor. A quick reference will reassure you, so that you don't have to call your doctor after-hours for the ninth time.
5. Parents or Parenting Magazine
Caution: Subscribe to ONE or possibly TWO magazines, but no more! I made the mistake of ordering too many mags the minute I found out I was pregnant, and it became a beat-down trying to read them all.
6. Babycenter.com
This site has a lot of good info and whatnot, but the coolest thing is the weekly email. It sends you an illustration of how the child will grow in the next week and what changes you can most likely expect with your own body. This was a great way for Tim to keep up with what was going on, and I'll admit, I looked forward to that email every week (reminded me I was making progress).
7. Bra extenders
Seriously: what's the point of buying a bunch of over-sized bras that you'll only use for a few months? You might as well save the cash for nursing bras and camis later (which are also pricey, by the way), if you choose to breastfeed. Instead, buy some latch extenders at a fabric place ($2), and use the extra cash for a nice massage.
8. Beauty treatment
Doesn't matter which one you do (pedicure, manicure, pregnancy massage), at some point, do one. It's nice to be taken care of, especially during the final trimester.
9. Consumer Reports online subscription
Face it: when it comes to buying the safest, most cost-effective baby gear, few people besides Super Nanny can make the right choice. Get advice from other parents, but always remember that gadgets and safety knowledge change. I think most parents are better off getting unbiased opinions. Warning: baby stuff is often upgraded, so a product that got rave reviews a year ago may not be available today.
10. Clear, over the door, hanging shoe organizer
I read a great tip in a magazine that new moms should use a plastic shoe organizer as a simple way to see and access small baby items (socks, pacifiers, creams, teethers, etc.). I set one up, and I can already tell it's going to save me time and effort.

I received a bunch of other cool gifts for the baby, but I can't honestly say how much I'll use them because I obviously have no baby to test them on. So, the above list is mainly for mamas. Hope y'all find it useful.

Time to rest. Will chat more in a bit ("The Long Goodbye (Part 3): Loose Ends, Part 2").

P.S. Feel free to mention whatever products you think an MTB would love.

The Long Goodbye (Part 2): The Name Game

Finding a name for Baby Dowdel has taught me a few things about my husband and myself. First, it's accurate to say that we're both kind of slackers. We made no big t0-do about finding a name quickly, and we held on to the hope that somehow the name would fall from the sky. We decided early on (once we saw how bad we were at the naming thing) that Tim would come up with a name if we had a girl, and I would chose a name it we had a boy.

Of course, because two of the sonograms were so unclear about the sex of the baby, our plan didn't make much difference. We asked for suggestions on this blog, and we got some good ones (we did select one as a middle name, by the way). All I wanted was a name that wasn't overly trendy, difficult to spell, or clearly belonged to a stripper. Tim just wanted a name.

I began writing down names that I'd always admired, particularly from literature. Unfortunately, this meant most of the male names I came up with were, outside of Elizabethan England, a bit girly. To add to the dilemma, coming up with a meaningful name nowadays is almost pointless, since most people could care less what a name means; they're more interested in how it sounds. Bummer.

Now that we have a name (which Tim is guarding with his life), here are the modest pieces of advice I can offer for those of you faced with a similar task (even if you're naming a new pup):
1. Keep the name to yourself until it's in print. Someone will definitely hate the name enough to tell you so, so you might as well keep it a secret until the damage is permanent.
2. Avoid trendy names, or at least give the kid a semi-traditional middle name. This way when he applies for a job later, he won't have to have "Cosmo" on his application if he doesn't want to.
3. Ignore baby-naming books. Just pick words or names that you like or mean something to you. Staring at a list of names, at least for me, made things harder (too many good choices on the menu, you know?).

According to the last sonogram, we're having a girl. Yet, in the back of my mind, I've toyed with a boy's name as well. I'll tell you why, and then you can tell me I'm making too much of this:

The entire time I've been pregnant, people have freely told me what they believed the sex of the baby was. The interesting thing is, the people who have told me consistently, without hesitation, that I'm having a boy fall into a strange category. I guess I'd call them the Innocents.

For example, when no one was there to influence her answer, I asked my 3-year-old niece if she thought I was having a boy or girl. She instantly answered, "Boy," and continued playing with a toy. Weeks later, I asked a five-year-old at my church the same thing. He gave the same answer with the same factual tone that my niece did. The most spiritual women I know, my grandmother and mother, both contended from the beginning that I would have a boy.

The other day, I was studying at a local coffee shop. A man sitting next to me asked what I was studying. This began a twenty or thirty-minute conversation about everything from college to travel and religion. He was such a nice man and very open and earnest. He talked passionately about children and education, and at one point, with palatable regret, he told me he wished he hadn't let college tear apart his love for books (his major was English). From any other stranger, I would've written off his emotion as insincere, but his eyes were all truth. He was the most open person I've met in a while, and he had this sort of innocence about him. As I was leaving, he wished me well, and for no reason at all, he said, "I think you're having a boy," then bashfully added, "but it could be a girl."

I left with this thought: sure, it's possible I could have a boy. But, there is an alternative. The very first time my doctor heard the baby's heartbeat, he said, "That's a boy." Even after the second sonogram, where it seemed more likely that I would have a girl, when my doctor heard the heartbeat again, he said, "So we decided you were having a girl, huh?" He seemed unsure. Now I think this: Baby Dowdel will be special. Every baby is special, but Baby Dowdel will be puzzling, I guess. She may be a girl physically, but her heart may be different than what most people stereotype as feminine. Perhaps she will be very brave, a straight-shooter, or someone quick to defend the defenseless. Sure, she may be stubborn or even reckless, but she could also be a leader, the kind of person you want to believe in. If Baby Dowdel turns out to be male, well then, I guess he has the last laugh.

So, what name did we decide on? Here are the hints Tim will let me part with:
1. The baby's initials pay homage to one of Tim's loves: computers.
2. People always ask us, "Is the name found in the Bible?" The answer is yes, but beware of assumptions.
3. The name has been said by everyone in America, and more than once.

Bonus: I dropped a hint in today's blog entry.

Have I told anyone the name, though Tim has guarded it well? Yes. I was babysitting a girl recently who I've known since she was a baby. She is five now. She looked at me and said, "You have a baby in there?" and pointed to my belly. I said, "Yes." She asked if it was a boy or girl. I said, "Probably a girl." She asked what the baby's name was. She looked so honest and innocent, so I told her. She nodded, and that was that.

The Long Goodbye (Part 1)

Today I had a doctor's appointment. The nurse scheduled me for one next Friday as well, though we both know the baby may be here by then. This reminded me of something I've been mulling over the last two weeks.

I began this blog about 5 months ago at the suggestion of a friend. I agreed because I thought it was a reasonable way to let family and friends know how the pregnancy was going, if they cared to know (sending daily emails with the subject line, "Read this NOW! Precious baby info inside!" was Plan B).

What has surprised me most is that some people actually care enough to read this. Don't get me wrong, I know lots of good people, but still, I thought, "People have babies all the time. Why would anyone want to read about one baby's journey to the Outside?" I figured I'd print out the entire thing, and someday, when Baby Dowdel is old enough, tell her what becoming a mom was really like for me. That way, I don't gloss over the hard times or forget the good ones.

Now that I know that several people (yes, I do read all comments), even some outside of my family, have been gracious enough to listen to my raves and rants, I feel like I owe you all a decent farewell. This blog was dedicated to pregnancy, and that it shall be. But before I go, I'd like to say goodbye in three parts, beginning today. I will be as honest as I can, so today I offer "Part 1: What I've Learned."

Sure, at this point I could make a bulleted list, but let's make this more spicy, shall we? Take this short quiz, and we'll tally up the points at the end.

True or False?
1. Women are pregnant for 9 months, which equals 36 weeks.
2. Babies begin sleeping "through the night" (you know, 8 hours or so) around 2-3 months of age.
3. 80% of parents install car seats incorrectly.
4. One perk of the pregnancy period is that women do not have to purchase sanitary napkins anymore.
5. Because baby stores are specialized and have years of experience, they are the best places to find out what's safest to give to your baby.
6. Never microwave milk in a bottle.
7. Don't take bottles out of the grasp of babies who fall asleep with them.
8. You can tell by the way a woman carries her baby (if the belly is low or high) if she's having a boy or girl.
9. Prenatal care is critical for healthy children; that's why everyone has access to the best.
10. The last few weeks of pregnancy are filled with excitement for moms; watch them glow!

I could go on with all the things I've learned, but I digress. So, how do you think you did? Let's find out: NOT ALL OF THE FOLLOWING COMMENTS ARE ENDORSED BY THE PEDIATRIC COMMUNITY. THEY ARE MOSTLY THE RESULTS OF DIRECT OBSERVATION, WHICH AT TIMES, MAY HAVE BEEN SEVERELY HAMPERED DUE TO LACK OF SLEEP. ALL JUDGMENTS ARE FINAL.

1. False. Women are pregnant for 40 weeks, if not longer. The 9-month ruse is a way to convince women to make babies, similar to the way paying for a shirt that's $19.99 sounds better than one for $20.
2. False. Most babies won't sleep through the night (by my definition, 8 uninterrupted hours) until they're 6 months to a year old (or older!). At 2 months, babies may "sleep through the night," if you define a night as 5 hours long.
3. True, so suck it up and get professional help.
4. False. I could delve into the unsightly details, but why? I need other women to get pregnant under false pretenses like I did; it's only fair.
5. False. "B" isn't for baby, it's for "Business." That's what these companies are interested in, so remember that as you and your significant other tour nursery displays. If you want to shop safe, check with a consumer organization and other parents.
6. True. Though I've seen this done all the time, experts say it's a no-no. Microwaves cook unevenly, which means you can burn your kid with a hot spot you didn't know was there.
7. False. Not only is this a choking hazard, dentists hate the fact that milk or sugary juices sit in kids' mouths for hours. This creates a breeding ground for germs and cavities.
8. False. Nobody, and I mean nobody has shown me any accuracy with this or any other method. All women and babies are different, and you're lucky if your doctor gets the sex of the baby right!
9. False. This is kind of a downer, but I've noticed it throughout my pregnancy. Because of my husband's medical insurance, I've had access to great prenatal vitamins, monthly and now weekly prenatal visits, and childcare classes. Because of friends and family, we have new clothes and toys for the baby, gizmos to make parenting a little easier, and a great support system. Every now and then, though, I remember that a lot of women, most women in fact, don't have half of these things. Around the world and in America, women either don't get decent prenatal care at all or get whatever they can squeeze from their medical insurance companies. I feel the most pity for women who work hard (as well as their spouses) but still don't make enough to pay for healthcare (and make too much to receive it for free!). Prenatal care is such a basic need; you would think both Democrats and Republicans would've figured out a way to give it gratis to everyone years ago.
10. False. Remember, kids: every woman is different. I get the, "You must be so excited!" line all the time. The truth is, I'm numb. I'm probably excited, scared, nervous, impatient, happy--a lot of things. Because I am, I've gone to a numb sort of state, where I can't pick out any one feeling to focus on. I felt the exact same way the weeks leading up to my wedding. It was not until the honeymoon that I was able to feel peaceful, happy, or anything at all. To that point, I was just overwhelmed. Hard to explain, but it's the truth.

See you tomorrow for, "Part 2: The Name Game."

The 8th Sense

One of my greatest fears about being a mother is this: that the kid will get injured on my watch. I know, I know: all kids get hurt from time to time, even when parents are freakishly cautious. But, I would so rather it happen (since it's going to, anyway) on Tim's watch. Selfish? Yes. Ashamed? No!

So, a few weeks ago, I was at my mother's house visiting. My brother, his wife, and his son Isaiah (in October, he'll be 2) were also there. My nephew happily swept the carpets while I chatted with my brother (he likes brooms, for whatever reason). After a while, my nephew moved into the kitchen to spruce up the floors in there, as well. I could still see him from my position in the living room, so I wasn't worried. Besides, my brother and his wife had already put child-safety covers on all the electrical outlets and given my mother cabinet locks to install.

After a few minutes, though, I said, "I can't see Isaiah from here anymore."

My brother responded, "Don't worry about it. He's probably sweeping in the laundry room."

After a second's thought, I said, "Yeah, maybe. I'm just saying I can't see him anymore, so don't blame me if something happens to that kid."

My brother laughed, saying I was overly paranoid (which I am). He said words which now for him and I are immortal: "Isaiah's fine. I HAVE AN EIGHTH SENSE ABOUT THESE THINGS."

"OK," I said. My sister-in-law, I think, became uncomfortable with this assessment, so she took a step towards the kitchen. My brother didn't want her to get up (she was 9 months pregnant at the time), so he reluctantly went to the kitchen himself.

As soon as he walked in, I heard him say, "Oh." He followed it with a sort-of, "Uh." From his tone, I knew Isaiah wasn't just sweeping the floor anymore. "Can you come here for a minute?" my brother called to his wife. I told her not to get up (she was ordered to bed rest by her doctor, too, by the way), and I asked Tim to go instead.

Tim went, and I heard him say, "Ohhhh." Tim's not the dramatic sort, so to hear him sound puzzled was discomforting. As I came to find out, there was Isaiah on the floor, looking like the poster child for Poison Control. He was sitting in a pool of blue glass cleaner, with an almost-empty bottle nearby. When I walked in, my brother was already wiping him off while Tim searched for the number to Poison Control. I opened Isaiah's mouth and smelled for signs of ingestion. I remembered that my brother had commented a few days before that Isaiah hardly ever put anything into his mouth besides food; for some reason, he seemed to be able to tell the difference between food and non-food items. I hoped my brother was right. Isaiah was smiling and clearly happy with the attention. We changed his clothes, and while Tim conferred with a poison specialist, we asked the obvious question, "How did this happen?"

Turns out my mom needed a drill to install the cabinet locks and had been meaning to ask one of us to put them in for her. She put them in a drawer somewhere, and couldn't remember where she put them. In her defense, she had some medical problems at the time and had simply forgotten to take care of it. In her guilt, she searched the house top to bottom for the locks while we treated Isaiah, though I'm not sure how that helped at the time (sort of like buying a home security system the day after you've been robbed). She felt terrible, but so did the rest of us for being lax.

The good news is that Isaiah is fine. He never drank any of it. He just wanted to splash around in it, I suppose. The better news is that we all learned a little about trusting our "eighth sense." Enough time has passed now that I can tease my brother about his now-famous quote, but in the back of my mind, I wonder if I'll do the same sort of thing ...

Twelve Days of Delivery

I have twelve days left until my delivery date ... (*ahem*) ...

Twelve Days of Delivery

On the first day 'til delivery,
Pregnancy gave to me:
A tight pain in my belly!

On the second day 'til delivery,
Pregnancy gave to me:
Two more doctor's visits ...
And a tight pain in my belly!

On the third day 'til delivery,
Pregnancy gave to me:
Three-hour sleep cycles ...
And a tight pain in my belly!

On the fourth day 'til delivery,
Pregnancy gave to me:
Four pants that still fit ...
And a tight pain in my belly!

On the fifth day 'til delivery,
Pregnancy gave to me:
Five more (MORE!) pounds ...
And a tight pain in my belly!

On the sixth day 'til delivery,
Pregnancy gave to me:
Six random headaches ...
And a tight pain in my belly!

On the seventh day 'til delivery,
Pregnancy gave to me:
Seven times a day I'm hungry ...
And a tight pain in my belly!

On the eighth day 'til delivery,
Pregnancy gave to me:
Eight hundred things to do ("Where's the baby book??)
And a tight pain in my belly!

On the ninth day 'til delivery,
Pregnancy gave to me:
Nine months of choices to doubt ...
And a tight pain in my belly!

On the tenth day 'til delivery,
Pregnancy gave to me:
Ten daily trips to the bathroom ...
And a tight pain in my belly!

On the eleventh day 'til delivery,
Pregnancy gave to me:
Eleven bottles still left to sterilize ...
And a tight pain in my belly!

On the twelfth day 'til delivery,
Pregnancy gave to me:
Twelve days that could turn to twenty ...
And a tight pain in my belly!

Happy Mother's Day

Even mobsters pause to give moms their dues today, so I, too, say, "Happy Mother's Day!" May all good moms everywhere be showered with love and gifts from their families. May they have long lives and have at least one child that doesn't tarnish the family name! Flowers, candy, warm feelings all around, blah, blah, blah--back to me and mine.

So sorry! But, it's hard not to be a bit self-involved right now. Yesterday morning and late last night I had a session of contraction attacks. Kids, hold on to my hands, because scary things are afoot. Will update more in a bit, when my tummy stops tightening. Breathe, 1-2-3, breathe, 1-2-3 ...

Stretching My Limits

For my mother's birthday a few weeks ago, we thought it would be cute to send her a special e-card. The idea was that we would photograph each of her grandchildren (who all live in different parts of the country) holding up a part of a sign that read in whole, "Happy Birthday, Grandma! We'll Always Love You" (hey, Ma has a lot of grandchildren, OK?). We'd thought it would be funny if the next screen was just a picture of my bare pregnant belly with a sticky note on it that read, "Love, The Grandchildren." Well, my mom is a very traditional-type mama, so she was all in tears when she saw all her beloved grandchildren's photos together. She loved it (note: feel free to rip off this idea for your own ma; especially if you've been naughty this year).

I thought the whole project went nicely--until last Friday. My sister and her family came to visit, and I picked them up from the airport. After the initial hugs and whatnot, one of the first things she said to me was, "You know that card you sent Mom for her birthday? Well, where were your mommy marks?"

"What's a 'mommy mark'?" I said.

"A stretch mark. Where are the stretch marks on your belly? I didn't see any."

Honestly, this was the first time I had ever thought about stretch marks seriously. I had never seen a stretch mark (think about it: how often does that come up at a party?), so I hadn't bothered looking for them. Now, I was on high alert.

"Well, Mom doesn't have stretch marks, so who knows if I'll get them?" I said.

"Mom has stretch marks, and so do I. So does (our sister-in-law) and (our sister)."

What?! So the next time I was in front of a computer, we (by that point, I had alerted Tim to the situation) looked up images of stretch marks. I have no idea if the images were worst-case scenario-type images or average shots of stretch marks, but I was horrified. Even Tim looked a bit disconcerted (which is hard for him, since emotion isn't one of his favorite activities). All I could think was, "Is this genetic? Is it permanent? Do they hurt? Where's my tummy lotion!!"

I went home and lathered my belly with cream as Tim gently pointed out, "I think you're scaring yourself and are going to make them come because now you're focused on it."

Could I bring about my own demise from panic? But, how could I not panic when, according to the Internet, stretch marks can appear on thighs, bottoms, and breasts, too? Half of pregnant women get them, and genetics seem to play a part. So, I officially hit the PANIC button.

B-Day Before D-Day

Today be me birthday, mates! Arr! Don't know why special occassions make me want to talk like a pirate, but there you have it. What will Baby Dowdel and I do for out big day? The exact same thing we always do, but without guilt! I give myself permission to take a long nap, smack dab in the the middle of the day, without one, "I should really finish that load of laundry" or "I should get a head start on marinating the chicken." No, siree! I'm going to go take a shower right now and consider that my work for the day. I shall have a good day today, says I!

Pampers Someday, Pampering Today (Part 2)

If you've never had a facial (and you're a female), I recommend getting one before you do the whole pregnancy-thing. That way, nothing will weird you out. After my massage at the spa, I was directed to a "relaxing room" where I was to await my next consultant.

Because I hadn't eaten lunch (remember, I had to leave home in a hurry) and it was already 1:00, I was happy to find a basket of fruit & nut bars sitting on a side table. As soon as I grabbed one, a consultant called my name. She immediately had me get on a cushy table in another floral-fragrant room. She covered my eyes with some cooling eye-mask thing, and turned on a bright lamp. She inspected my face. I mean, she checked out every pore. With the direct light and all, it reminded me of going to the dentist. I felt like I should offer apologies, too. Maybe, "Sorry, I've never had a facial" or "Is the moisturizer I'm using any good? I should be paying more for one, shouldn't I?"?

For the next half hour, she scrubbed, rubbed, massaged, and moisturized my head/neck. At every step, I kept thinking that she couldn't possibly add another layer, but she did. She spread something warm on my hands and lower arms, wrapped them in plastic, and put what felt like oven mitts on them. She said she would let me rest and then left the room. I tried to visualize what I must've looked like at this point. I had a towel wrapped around my hair, a mask covered my eyes, a layer of beauty-stuff coated my face, mitts hid my arms, and a sheet covered the rest of me--Tim could've tripped over me and still not known who I was.

Then there was the matter of the fruit & nut bar. I was starving, and all I could think about was the bar in my purse. Worse, I knew I was too coated in slick stuff to attempt to safely get up and grab the bar (plus, the mitts were electric and plugged into the wall). Even though Enya-type music played, it took ten minutes for me to stop scheming of ways to get the bar and relax. I waited. I think I was expected to fall asleep, but I was too paranoid to do that in a strange place (what if one of the candles tipped over? My oiled-up skin would light like a match!). When the lady finally returned, I was firmly between the real and dream worlds. May I have more of your heady rose water, please?

After some more floral water and my beloved fruit bar, I was led to the lunch area. I had a tasty chicken salad sandwich with cranberry juice, which brought me back to my senses. Soon a consultant came for me: manicure time.

I've never had a manicure, either. If you haven't figured it out by now, I'm not the girly-type. I'm a bit practical, so jewelry, having a plethora of shoes, and weekly manicures aren't really my thing. Don't get me wrong, I'm just as big on skin care products and quality lipstick as the next gal, but I don't do the whole beauty regimen thing.

The manicure went well. Sure, I eyed the poor woman like, "What are doing to my hands? Is this part necessary?" but overall, I felt it was a positive experience.

By the time Tim picked me up, I looked, smelled, and felt like a flower fairy. The spa still owes me a pedicure and makeup session, but we're scheduling that later. Like I said, I'm not big on the whole beauty regimen thing, but it's nice to have someone else fuss over you. I imagine after the baby is born, there will be days where I long for someone to pamper me. I'll remember the soothing massage and cooling eye pack, and what do you think I'm going to start asking for, my dear Tim?