May 13, 2014
Pictures from right now.
Right this second.
At my apartment.
I'm home alone tonight. Greg is performing a show (Peter Pan at Hale Center Theatre in Orem- see it!) and Maverick is out for the count, so I'm home doing the nesting thing. Our little redheaded furball had his manhood taken away today, and as a result he's as tired and calm as I've ever seen him. He's incredibly playful by nature- always jumping up and down, greeting whoever walks in the door, begging you to throw a tennis ball for him. It kind of breaks my heart to see him like this, just lying around, hardly able to move. I suspect he's also mourning the fact that he will never be papa to any baby Mavericks. Sorry, bud, it just wasn't meant to be. We already have one procreating couple in this apartment- there's just not room for another.
I've grown to really enjoy my nights home alone. When I first got married, I hated it. I was used to the hustle and bustle of college life, of roommates, of something always going on. Now I revel in the stillness. I make myself a simple dinner, watch Jeopardy at 6:30, clean up the house a little bit, read, write on my blog, pet my puppy, take a bath. Somewhere in the back of my head I know that this will come to a screeching halt soon- that there will be a little girl demanding my attention, forcing me to put the book down. But still. I'm optimistic enough to think that her presence will only enhance my nights home alone. Me, baby girl, and Maverick. Couldn't ask for anything more.
Maverick was so sweet this afternoon. I came home from work and Greg had just brought him home from the vet. He was so drugged up and could hardly move. But he reacted to me, wagged his little tail, tried to get up. I admit that it is crazy to me that a puppy like this knows who I am, gets excited when he sees me. I can't believe I have the power to make an animal happy at my arrival- to try to stand up in the midst of his pain. He cuddled close to me, resting his little body against my growing belly. "Look, Bon," Greg said, "It's Maverick's and baby's first time cuddling." Yes, indeed it was.
I have been a bit worried about this growing bump of mine the past few days. Everyone tells me I'm small, and I know it is supposed to be a compliment, but it worries me. The doctor said Monday that I am not growing like I should be. That both baby and I are measuring small- too small. He put us in a little bit of a panic when he said that the baby is in the 4th percentile for size. I'm 29 1/2 weeks, but measuring closer to 27 1/2 weeks. The main concern, he said, would be that she's not getting the nutrients she needs from the placenta. He added on that fluid levels are totally normal, heart beat for baby is normal, and heavens knows she moves all day every day. If she's small it's probably because she exercises so dang much in there- I swear she thinks she's training for the Olympics.
Tomorrow we'll go to the hospital to Labor and Delivery and they'll do some tests and hopefully tell us that everything is fine and that the baby is indeed getting all the nutrients she needs, she's just little. And she'll be fine. I understand that doctors have to cover their own backs with stuff like this- have to run tests just to be safe even when the chances are 99% that you'll be just fine. I hate the added stress though. Greg started worrying like crazy- that's just his nature. I kept telling him "Don't borrow trouble. We're fine." He said he didn't know that for certain, and I said he's right, but stressing for three days never helped anyone anywhere.
On top of all of this, we are house hunting. Our lease on our apartment expires on July 31 and now that we're looking at staying here for at least the next five years, it doesn't make sense to rent anymore. I've been a Nazi with our money (Greg absolutely loathes the word "budget" while I keep trying to force a strict one on him) the past few years and we've managed to save a good amount for a little down payment. Hopefully we can get into a nice town home and we will once and for all know what it is like to live in a place that is larger than one bedroom. Can you even imagine such luxury?!
I am feeling more adult than ever lately. Sometimes it is a wonder to me that I am all grown up. I've had a full time job for four years now, so I guess I'm used to that. Still. There are moments when I have to sit back in awe and just wonder at how I got from where I was to where I am. When an 18 year old boy asks me if he can go to the bathroom. When I wake up in the night to the sound of Greg's steady breathing beside me. When I feel the weight of my round tummy. When I get a call from an agent saying my car insurance payment is due. When a parent comes to me in tears telling me of her child's drug addiction and I feebly try to comfort her. How can it be that I am already an adult?
I guess, when it comes down to it, I feel pretty blessed. There are ups and down and jolts and turns that you never see coming, but at the end of the day, being an adult ain't half bad.