Bambino en Punta Cana

Check out the little leg coming out of my belly. Looks like Critter arrived early.

Hola mi amigos. Punta Cana was muy fantastico. (Translation: take a babymoon. You’ll never regret it). I’m slowly coming back to reality, where virgin drinks, azul water and clock less rooms seemed like an eternity ago already. Last week was just what the doctor ordered. Yes, there were still swollen ankles and sleepless nights filled with battlestar galactica in my gut, but there were absolutely zero thoughts or discussions around day care woes, never-ending to-do lists and the occasional freak outs of “holy sh*t.” The only thing on the horizon was my giant belly sticking out of the ocean while floating. And here’s another thing to note – pregger women love to float. We’re very buoyant and limber. So much so, I led Jason in morning water aerobics classes. Good thing I only know Spanish un piquito so I had no idea what people were saying through their laughs while staring at us.

So, about the week and the destination itself. If you’ve never been to Punta Cana, truthfully it’s kind of depressing. You get off the plane with a meringue band greeting you in the airport with visions of unlimited drinks awaiting you. Then you get on an hour long bus ride to get to your hotel and feel like absolute crap. The Dominican Republic is as third world as it gets. More people ride horses and donkeys than cars, and a luxury estate is a 2 room shack without electricity and a dirt floor shared with your entire extended family. You kinda feel gluttonous and it’s probably the reason that no one ever leaves the resort during the vacation. We knew this going into it, which was why we brought a wad of $1 bills that truly go a long way when you encounter a lovely local working the Sirenis Resort. The weather was pretty good, only raining a few times for not more than an hour. Our typical agenda was wake up when we felt like it, moseyed to the breakfast buffet, head to the beach, parking ourselves under palm trees, swim around and read for most of the morning, stroll to the beach bbq for lunch, swim and read some more, occasional archery or meringue lesson, soft serve (every single day), watch fat ladies gyrate on lawn chairs by the pool in the sexy lady contest at 4:30, shower, go to dinner, go to the nightly entertainment , hit the hay and do it all over again the next day. I have to say, normally I’m the type of vacationer that comes with at least 2 travel guides (Frommer’s and Rough Guide), a street map and an hour-by-hour itinerary; this was perfect given the craziness that we’ve been living the past few months. Despite the horrific food and the inability to indulge in booze (Mammawanna), raw veggies, mystery cheeses, fruits or soda without ice, it was a great week. We swam with sharks (nurse sharks who were more afraid of us), held sting rays, snorkeled, got a bulls eye in Archery, learned I could be a great water aerobics instructor and that some women’s boobs can actually rebound from pregnancy (it was a top optional beach), befriended a table of local Dominicans who didn’t speak a lick of English, got the belly felt up by a stranger, overpaid for cigars and learned the Spanish word for baby – bambino.

By far, the hardest part of the vacation was leaving Jason, as I headed to Connecticut for my baby shower (posting and pics to come in a few days) and he went back to SF. Though, I did fly first class care of the bro, so it wasn’t all that bad. Some pics for your laughing enjoyment:

And lastly, I have a plea. Help pregnant women. I have flown cross country 3 times over the past 8 weeks - that's 13 segments - 7 trips to the luggage carousel and many overhead bin stuffings. Sadly, I can report that there are no gentlemen left, not at least at the airports. Would you believe that only once, ONCE did someone help me with my bags - and it was a 250 lb. older woman standing at the ticket counter next to me. This trip was the final straw. It was me and my two 50 lbs bags at American Airlines Baggage Carousel #2 vs. Man. I decided to do a little test. First bag comes. Many men in sight, but no gentlemen. I did a very impressive squat lean foot balancing maneuver to get the bag off the carousel. Before the second bag came, Jason called and asked if anyone was helping me, to which I replied very loudly "No, no one helped me. Everyone just stopped and stared at the pregnant lady making an ass of herself while trying to lift a 50lb. bag." I swear to god, two men standing right next to me, moved to the other side of the carousel. Bag #2 came. Nothing. Chivalry is dead and so are my back muscles. I hope those asses that only stopped to stare at me got hernias while getting their bags off the carousel.

No Turning Back

Since we're off to Punta Cana for a week long Babymoon, I wanted to give you a little update to hold you over until we're back. (Sorry, you'll have to wait for the belly pic. And because our resort is all-inclusive, it will be worth the wait. I'll probably be twice as big - and not cause of Critter. Cheesecake, here I come).

We went to the OBGYN yesterday for our now bi-weekly check ups. (In a month, we have to go weekly). We heard Critter's heartbeat (when he wasn't kicking the monitor), selected a Pediatrician, learned about newborn testing, got forms for Disability Insurance and started the hospital registration process. No turning back now. Plus, I almost got Dr. Bason-Mitchell to prescribe Jason some qualudes or valium. (Yes, I really did ask.) Love that boy, but his neuroticism over Punta Cana food and water is too much. He actually wanted to pack a case of bottled water in our suitcases. (Note that the 4-star resort fully stocks your fridge with bottled water). On a not so brighter note, we also found out that I'm anemic. Not a biggie and honestly, I expected it. I don't eat red meat or fish, and with my gas issues, beans can only be eaten on nights when Jason's not around. So, I'm on some potent iron supplements here on out. Doc also said that my sugar levels were on the low side. What? I practically eat a cup of sugar a day between fruits, coffee, cookies and It's Its. Guess that gives me the thumbs up for hitting the dessert table 2x/night during vacation. Ahh.......it's good to be me.

Grateful

Things we're grateful for as we head into the homestretch

• Miracles
  
• The Snoogle
• That summer TV sucks (since we fall asleep at 10pm)
• Flip flop season for puffy feet
• Macy's bra sales
• That 3 of our friends are due right before us and we can benefit from their trial and error
• That there are less than 3 more months of strangers touching Stephanie
• That we are babyless for 3 more months
• Non-alcoholic beer that actually tastes like the real thing
  
• Stretchy pants
• Jason's never ending patience
• That Critter's healthy
• That Poppy Kressner is warming up to the "Critter" name (hee hee)
  
• The corner store that sells It's It
• Not feeling guilty about eating It's It five nights a week
  
• Friends with trucks and strong backs
  
• Parking spots at Babie's R Us for Expectant Mothers (right in front)
• That all of our grandmothers (and one grandfather) will see their great-grandson
  
• Finally being able to clean lint out of Steph's belly button
• Our parents' endless excitement and generosity
• The decision not to tell anyone Critter's real name
• $35 dinner bills (the only benefit of not being able to drink booze)
• Lush Therapy Massage Bar
• That pregnancy isn't longer than 10 months
• That Stephanie's going to see family and a bunch of her best friends in Connecticut in 2 weeks
• Anti-embolism socks
• Scott's first class upgrades and reward tickets
• That we're going to Punta Cana (Caribbean) in 4 days
  

New Week. New Woman. New Trimester.

New week. New woman. I'm entering our third trimester with vengeance. I refuse to let some kicking alien and blossoming body keep me down. At least for this week. After much discomfort, I schlepped myself to the gym last week. Why didn't I realize this sooner? All my life, a gym visit could cure any ailment (except hangovers). After 50 minutes of cardio and 30 minutes of stretching, every ache and pain was non existent. I felt great. So, I kept at it. Went hiking with girlfriends on Saturday (followed by the world's best french toast at Fred's Cafe - made with ice cream batter and deep fried) and then to the gym on Sunday. And I feel so good. Maybe it's all mental, but I'll take it. Plus, my friend Lauren let me borrow her Snoogle Pregnancy Pillow which is like sleeping with a giant pillowed snake that cuddles me. Sounds weird, but check it out. In only two nights, it's made a world of difference. Not quite sure Jason likes it though. It's like the Berlin Wall and takes up half the bed. Lauren also showed me how to use a breast pump (over her clothes while watching Lars and the Real Girl). I'm not really going to go into detail on this. Some things should just remain unsaid. Let's just say that it brings me back to my second grade field trip to the dairy farms in the next town. Just start calling me Bessie.

Oh, and my Dad had a dream about Critter. He had dark hair and was talking at 3 months. The weird thing is that on Saturday night, I had a dream about fishing. My dad called me Sunday morning and said he caught the biggest fish of his life that morning. My dreams may be premonitions, but somehow, I don't think my Dad's will be, at least for the 3 month talking thing. I'll just be happy if Critter isn't pooping all over his onesies at that point.

Pain in my cervix

Okay, I have to warn you. We're starting the third trimester. Which sucks. I know this because my book tells me and so does my body. So from here on out, I'm gonna bitch, and you're gonna have to read it. (Or just stop now). Up until 5 days ago, I felt great. Sure, I had sleep issues and swollen feet here and there, but I was still representing at the gym and could get out of bed on my own. Sunday comes, and so does our 27th week and a gluttony of symptoms: huffing and puffing going up the slightest hill, bloody stuffed nose, leg cramps and massive stomach stretching discomfort. I can't even wear my maternity jeans without grimacing now. And forget about sleeping. The beast is up all night kicking me just as I start snoring.

Speaking of the beast, I mean our cute little Critter, I had to go in for an emergency ultrasound last week after I told my OBGYN that the pressure in my nether regions hadn't gone away. So, to be safe, they had me go in for a little looky-lo to check out my cervix. (They were worried that I had a short cervix and was susceptable to early labor). Good news is that my cervix is normal. Bad news is that Critter is already in head down "I'm ready to get out of here" position resting right on my cervix. (Is this too much info?) As they were doing the ultrasound checking out my sexy cervix, I see this giant thing creeping into the picture. It was like Battlestar Galactica. It was Critter's bulbous head. We also got to see the rest of Critter, including a 3D image of his face profile, which we are not posting despite all the pleading comments we'll likely get. Yup, it's definitely our child. No lips and big nose. Very camel-esque. Not very flattering, and at the risk of having people not want to visit him post-birth, we're not posting the picture. Sorry. The doctor also told us that he's at 2 pounds and in the 65% percentile (i.e., slightly heavier than the normal kid at 27 weeks). The doctor is predicting that if we carry full term, he'll be 8 lbs. Goodbye cervix. Hello kegels.

I also headed back east for my cousin Todd's wedding in the Hamptons last weekend, which was a blast. I got to see my entire family and sample non-alcoholic wine at the vineyards. I think my most favorite moment of the entire weekend was one morning when my Dad came in to wake me up. He put his head to my belly and said, "Hi Baby. This is Poppy." I didn't let him know it at the time, but I had tears in my eyes. Sure, my Mom can't get enough of the belly and talks to Critter all the time, but just hearing the word "Poppy" does it to me. Like you may have picked up on in my earlier posts, I am very close with my Grandma Freda. My Poppy passed years ago, but he was my very first boyfriend - who would do anything and make anything for his princess Stephanie. My Dad is already working on a milk crate swing, milk crate doll stroller and milk crate go cart for Critter - all held together by duct tape, just like I had.

I also want to give props to my wonderful Jason who spent the entire weekend refinishing the dressers for the Nursery and attempting to pick up an armoire an hour away at Stinson Beach (only to find out that the borrowed SUV was too small). Thank you, honey. Everything looks wonderful and is coming together. Stroller's arrived and we practice pushing it down our 40 foot long hallway with the froggie humidifier in it, which also happens to be the same size as a baby. And his head has only fallen off once.
Belly pic coming soon.