The Name Wars - Let the Games Begin

I have a little problem. Jonathan wants to name our baby Bruce. 

Before I continue with my thoughts on this matter, let me just say that I think Bruce is a fine name for a grandfather, father, uncle, cousin, neighbor, dog, cat, or horse. But a baby? NO WAY.

This all started about three weeks ago when we were discussing baby names, as we often do these days, and out of nowhere Jonathan eagerly said, "How about Bruce?!"

I rolled my eyes. "I don't think so, buddy."

A few days later he was flipping through the baby book and just happened to land on the page with the name Bruce.

"It's a sign. Now we have to do it," he said.

"Nope. Sorry."

"Why not? It's strong, manly, and cool-sounding. Just wait until he's playing sports in high school - it will sound so awesome to hear the crowd go, 'Bruuuuuuuuuce'."

"Yeah," I replied, "but what if he's a nerd in high school, like me? He would get teased relentlessly!"

"He won't be a nerd. He'll be cool like me. Bruce Rouse. C'mon! It's awesome!" Jonathan couldn't stop giggling.

I told him there is no way we are naming our baby Bruce, and yet he won't let it go. He genuinely likes the name and keeps trying to convince me that it will grow on me. Baby Bruce? I'm sorry, but I just can't do it. Am I being unreasonable?

I must find a way out of this. I have five months to come up with a boy name that Jonathan won't be able to refuse. If not, it's going to be Bruce, Bruce, Bo Boose, Bananafana Fo Foose, Me Mi Mo Moose, Bru-uce! Yikes!

Happiness...

According to http://www.whattoexpect.com/pregnancy/week-by-week/week-16.aspx, at 16 weeks the bones in our baby's ears should be in place by now which means he or she is able to hear us talk and sing as well as hear the music we play aloud.  

"Dog Days are Over" has been one of my favorite "rock out by myself in the car and I don't care who sees me" songs since I first heard it a few weeks before I was pregnant. I honestly don't know what the song is about, but I love it! It's one of those feel-good tunes that makes my heart happy. I listen to it all the time and never get tired of it. Jonathan knows how much I love it and recently showed me this priceless video. Maybe our baby will be calmed by this song like the adorable baby in the video. But with my luck, he/she will take after Jonathan and favor heavy metal like this little guy. Only time will tell!

(Note: Watch both videos in their entirety...they're worth it.)

Update on Poppa Tom: He was finally released from the ICU on Sunday. It's a Christmas miracle for sure!

It's a...Surprise!

To find out, or not to find out: that is the question. The number one question we've received since announcing our news is whether or not we're going to find out the sex of the baby. And from the beginning - actually for as long as I can remember - I've wanted it to be a surprise. And luckily, Jonathan agrees with me for once!

I know, I know, we're crazy for not wanting to know if our little Sugar Weenie is a Sugar or a Weenie (no puns intended). But if you know me at all, you know that I love surprises. And this is one surprise I definitely do not want spoiled.

If we wanted to find out, we could do so at our next ultrasound on January 19. By then, Jonathan might have learned in school how to read an ultrasound, so there's a chance he may catch a glimpse even though we're going to tell the ultrasound tech that we don't want to know. I'll just have to pray that Jonathan isn't able to tell because there is no way he'll be able to keep it to himself for another 22 weeks.

Jonathan says he wants a boy first, but I think he secretly wants a girl (how sweet would that be?!). I honestly have no preference, although I've had two dreams in which it was a boy. A friend suggested that I try the Chinese gender predictor, an ancient birth chart which supposedly predicts the sex of your baby with 93% accuracy. According to its calculations, we're having a boy.

More than anything, we just want a healthy baby.

Update on Poppa Tom: He's getting better, slowly but surely. Again, thank you for your continued prayers!

Food, Glorious Food

Let's talk food. I loooove food right now. Especially cheese. Jonathan makes me macaroni and cheese in the middle of the night sometimes and IT. IS. AWESOME. And mayonnaise. Real Hellman's mayonnaise is my new must-have. I could eat it by the spoonful (I don't...yet. But I could.) Gross? Not to me. Not to Sugar Weenie. We love it!

Craving of the week: RUNZA. For the non-Nebraska natives out there, a Runza is sort of like a gourmet hot pocket made of fresh, warm homemade bread, stuffed with a delightfully delicious mixture of ground beef, cabbage, and a top secret seasoning. I always get my runzas with cheese. To me, there's just no other way to eat a runza. Dipped in ketchup, it is by far one of the most incredible fast-food concoctions ever invented in the great state of Nebraska. Even before I was pregnant, I missed and craved them terribly. But now, I would pay big bucks for a bite of a cheese runza. Mmmmmm....

 

Debut of the Baby Bump

The time has come to reveal my new and improved belly, courtesty of Sugar Weenie. He/She is now the size of a sweet little lemon and has therefore become too big for me to hide him/her any longer. Thus begins the transformation!

Note: This picture is slightly misleading due to the fact that I had just eaten dinner. Real baby + food baby = a larger than normal belly.




14 weeks

 Update on Poppa Tom: He's still in the ICU. Thank you for your prayers!!!

Grandpas are Great

I'm beginning to wonder if this baby has special powers. First the incident with the deli man, now this.

The day before Thanksgiving, Grandma Mary called to tell us that my grandpa - Poppa Tom - was in the hospital. He was very sick and the doctors weren't sure what was wrong with him. By Thanksgiving morning, he had been admitted to the ICU. My family rushed through the beautiful Thanksgiving dinner my mom had prepared, and then my mom, Jonathan and I decided to make the two hour drive to Norfolk to see how Poppa was doing and hopefully tell him about the baby.

When we arrived at the hospital, we were greeted by three of my mom's sisters - Joan, Janet, and Jackie - and her brother, Marty. As we walked towards Poppa's room, my aunt Jackie pulled me aside and warned me that Poppa didn't really look like himself and that it might be hard to see him that way. I of course started crying right then and there (it's true what they say about how you cry at the drop of a hat when you're pregnant). Not knowing about the baby yet, my aunts and uncle seemed a bit shocked that I was so upset before even seeing my grandpa. Jackie jokingly apologized for saying anything, and we all got a little laugh out of it.

My mom and I went into Poppa's room to see him, but he was asleep. His blood pressure had been extremely low all day, and the nurses said he needed his rest. After listening to my grandma talk about his condition for a few mintues, I started to get emotional again and left his room. Jonathan met up with me down the hall and said one of those things that might have sounded like a good idea in his head, but as soon as it came out, it was 100% the wrong thing to say. With his hand on my shoulder he said, "I'm sorry, you're not going to get to tell him, are you?" I completely lost it then. I literally couldn't stop crying. Jonathan said he was sorry again and hugged me until I calmed down. I'm sure by this point everyone was wondering why in the world I was so upset.

A few minutes later, someone said that Poppa had woken up. His blood pressure had gone up 10 points and we could go in to talk to him if we wanted to. My aunts warned us that Poppa hadn't been very coherent when they talked to him earlier and that he might not make much sense if he did say anything. My mom and I went into his room together.

I suddenly got nervous, not wanting to lose my composure in front of him but knowing it was pretty much inevitable. I walked to the other side of the bed, tried to smile, and said, " Hi Poppa," my voice slightly quivering. He looked at me and mumbled something I couldn't understand.

I glanced at my mom and she whispered to me, "Tell him."

I shook my head and mouthed, "I can't."

"It's ok. Tell him."

I looked at him again and as I tried to calm myself down enough to tell him, he looked right at me and said, "You're going to have a baby."

"What?! Yes!" I was stunned! Half giggling, half crying, I asked, "How did you know?"

He said, "I could tell by the smile on your face."

I just burst out laughing. I couldn't believe what had just happened. I went on to tell him that the baby - his first great-grandchild - was due in June. He said something in return, but he was no longer speaking coherently. It didn't matter though. For about 30 seconds, he was awake and aware and we were able to share one of the most precious moments of my life and possibly his.

My mom witnessed the whole thing, as did Jonathan and Grandma Mary, who were standing in the doorway. My grandma was absolutely thrilled and couldn't stop smiling. My aunts and uncle came up to me one by one, asking me if it was true and hugging me and laughing and saying, "No wonder you've been crying since you got here!"

Poppa fell asleep shortly afterwards. I suppose all that celebrating wore him out. He's still in the ICU. Please pray for him. I'd really like him to meet his first great-grandbaby. They have a pretty special bond already.

Sugar Weenie Rouse

A few days after "meeting" our little one we thought we should probably name the little nugget, as Jonathan liked to call it. He came up with all sorts of silly suggestions, none of which I particularly liked. I thought Baby was a sweet name, but of course Jonathan thought that was boring. Somehow we came up with the name Sugar Weenie (meaning sweet and tiny). I suggested Sugar; he suggested Weenie. We know it's a little strange...but in a cute way, right?

Sugar Weenie Rouse at about 10 weeks

The Worst Practical Joke Anyone has Accidentally Played on Me

My first ultrasound was scheduled for October 21. When I called to schedule it, I was given strict orders that on the day of my appointment I needed to drink 48 ounces of water between 11:30 am and noon without emptying my bladder until after my appointment which didn't start until 1:00 pm. This may not sound like a big deal until you actually try it for yourself, especially if you have a small bladder like me. I knew I was in for an interesting experience, but I had no idea just how memorable it would be.

As excited as I was for the first glimpse of our baby, I was a nervous wreck because of the impending water challenge. I used the bathroom at least six times at work that morning (Jessica, who sat at the front desk and didn't know I was pregnant, probably thought I was crazy). I think I even went twice between 11:20 and 11:29. At exactly 11:30, I started on my first of three 16 oz. glasses of water. Before I knew it, it was already 11:45 and I still had two more glasses to go. Crap! I downed the second glass in about five minutes. I then realized that I already had to go to the bathroom. Too bad for me. I finished my third and final glass right at noon. I was so water-logged that I thought I was going to throw up. Luckily I had listened to my student-doctor husband who told me to eat a few saltine crackers along the way. I think it saved me from actually getting sick. To make things worse, the water I had been drinking was from a water cooler and was very, very cold. I don't know if it was the nerves or the 48 ounces of cold water I had just consumed, but I was suddenly shivering so uncontrollably that I couldn't type or concentrate on anything but my shivering and the fact that I somehow had to make it another hour and a half without emptying my bladder. Luckily, our office was quiet during the next 30 minutes and no one was around to see me act like such a weirdo.



Notice that I'm not smiling...I'm wincing!



At 12:30 Jonathan arrived at my office to pick me up and take me to my appointment. Thank goodness that was the plan, because there was no way I would've been able to drive myself.  At that point, I was already about to burst. I slowly maneuvered my way into the truck and told Jonathan he needed to drive as fast as possible because I wasn't sure I was going to make it! Throughout the 20 minutes it took us to get to the ultrasound clinic, I was on the verge of tears and spouting crazy talk because I was in so much pain from my full bladder. It was official: I had never had to pee so badly in my entire life. Jonathan was not driving fast enough and it was making me mad, so I turned to him and screamed, "Jonathan! You need to be going at least 10 miles over the speed limit at all times!!!" He calmly replied, "No, I need to keep you and our baby safe. And don't yell at me, you crazy pregnant lady!" At the next stop light, he took my picture in hopes of capturing my fragile state of being. We finally arrived at the clinic (five minutes LATE because we couldn't find the damn place) and I started yelling at Jonathan to drive faster through the parking lot. He yelled back that it's a parking lot and you can't drive fast. He dropped me off at the door and I awkwardly made my way into the clinic, speed-walking in a hunched position so as not to disturb the bladder.

I rushed up to the front desk and told the office ladies that my bladder was going to explode and I couldn't wait another minute. One of the ladies shook her head and said, "We've all been there, honey. Now, fill out your paperwork. It'll take your mind off of it." I couldn't believe it! I was in serious pain. My pelvis, my abdomen, my back...I swear I could actually feel my kidneys aching. This was the worst pain I had ever felt (I know...it's probably nothing compared to what I'm going to experience in a few months). Jonathan walked in and saw me scribbling all over my paperwork. He sat down next to me and started laughing at the fact that they made me fill out paperwork at a time like that! Then I started laughing. Then I stopped because laughing was not a smart thing to do at that point. I finished the paperwork and asked the ladies if I was going to have to wait much longer because I didn't know if I could. One of them said she didn't know but that I could empty my bladder just a little tiny bit in the meantime. Now she tells me! Couldn't she have told me ten minutes earlier? I ran back to the bathroom and then suddenly realized how difficult - almost impossible - it was to stop once you started. I wouldn't recommend it...it's not fun. Back in the waiting room, I was in even more pain than before. Jonathan was all too amused by it all and took this video so I could look back and hopefully laugh at the situation one day (you may need to turn up your volume to hear it.)

After 20 minutes of waiting, I couldn't take it anymore. I asked Jonathan to go talk to the ladies and see what the hold-up was. The same lady from before said that she'd go check with the ultrasound tech and would be right back. A minute later, she was back and yelled over to me that I could go empty my bladder. I was shocked. "Wait, you mean all of it?" I said. "All of it," she replied. For a second, I was so happy and relieved at the sound of those words that I wanted to hug her. As I made my way to the bathroom, I turned and said, "Do you mean that I didn't need to do this at all?" "Nope." She explained that the scheduler accidentally scheduled me for the wrong type of ultrasound. Since it was still so early in my pregnancy, nothing would be detectable via an abdominal ultrasound and so we'd have to do it another way. I was suddenly so pissed (pun!). I couldn't believe this! As I was FINALLY able to empty my bladder completely (which took forever...think Tom Hanks in "A League of Their Own" ), I couldn't decide if I should laugh or cry or scream. I was momentarily mad at the scheduler for putting me through all that pain and discomfort and at the front desk ladies for their lack of sympathy, but I couldn't help but laugh at the utter ridiculousness of it all.

Jonathan and I were overcome with emotion and couldn't stop giggling to each other throughout the ultrasound. Up until that point, we weren't sure if we believed there was actually a baby in there. But it was really happening. We had proof. In the end, it was a wonderful experience. I didn't pee my pants and we got to see and hear our baby's heartbeat for the first time. Cheers to pregnancy!

The Psychic Deli Man

Here's where things get interesting.

On Sunday, September 26, I went grocery shopping at Walmart. First stop: the deli. As I'm waiting for my selections, the oh-so-friendly deli man strikes up a conversation with me. In the span of about 90 seconds, he tells me that it's his birthday, he has 5 older sisters, and that his parents just got divorced after many years of marriage. I offer a few kind words. He then notices my wedding ring and politely asks how long I've been married. I tell him a little over a year. He quickly glances at my mid-section and replies, "And you're already expecting?! How far along are you?" I glance down at my stomach in disbelief. I am so completely caught off guard that I get really nervous and say, "Um, about 2 months." As he offers his congratulations, I'm thinking Do you even show at 2 months?!? and Did I really just lie to the deli man? I suppose I didn't want to make him feel bad, so I just went along with it. I suddenly can't stop giggling. I have to turn away from him because I'm laughing so uncontrollably. After what seems like forever, I finally get my ham and turkey and hurry to the next isle over so I can call Jonathan and tell him what just happened. I am practically crying by this point because I'm laughing so hard. The lady in the bread isle with me probably thought I was crazy. Jonathan got a good laugh out of it, as did a few of my friends and family. Later that night, I vowed to never again wear the dress I had been wearing that gave the impression of a baby bump.

Six days later, to my complete and utter surprise, I found out I actually was pregnant! The first thing I said to Jonathan was, "Do you know what this means?" He said, "The deli man was right!" As shocked and surprised and scared as we were in that moment, all we could do was laugh.

So there you have it. We're going to have a baby! I didn't exactly lie to the deli man after all...my timing was just off by a month (in reality, I was about 4 weeks along at the time and didn't know it). Moral of the story: Jonathan gets everything he wants - a puppy and a baby!

The Ultimatum

Once upon a time, back in July of 2010, my dear sweet husband gave me an ultimatum.  He said, "Woman, I need a puppy or a baby. It's your choice." Now, for those of you who know Jonathan well, you of course understand that he meant absolutely no disrespect with that remark. You also know that he has a way of being simultaneously sarcastic yet completely serious. So, we got a puppy. Her name is Sasha.

About two months go by. Jonathan is happy. I'm happy. Sasha's happy. Snoop finally has a sister to play with, so he's definitely happy. What more could we want?

 

The Adventure Begins

Hello, and welcome to our blog! Never in a million years did I think I would ever write a blog, but I woke up one recent morning with an overwhelming urge to do so. I'm a little nervous, so here it goes!

"The Rouse House Diaries" is our way of documenting and sharing our experiences as parents-to-be with our family and friends, especially those of you who live so far away. We hope you enjoy our stories, and we welcome any and all questions, comments, and advice (we're gonna need it!).