Happy New Year!

Another exciting evening for us -- debauchery! Shameless snuggling! It's just like The Wild Party.

I hope that all of you are having an equally eventful New Year's.

Thank you, mutinational corporations!

Somehow, the sinister capitalist forces that control our lives seem to know exactly when Seamus is due to arrive. In a brazen attempt to turn him into a good little consumer even before he's born, various companies have been sending us free samples of baby stuff: diapers, lotions, and not one, but two cases of baby formula. Just like pushers, they give you the first fix for free ...

I would be much more appreciative if, say, Ben & Jerry's sent us free samples. Unlike baby formula, their product is actually necessary for one's health.

What a Difference a Day Makes or "Move a Muscle, Change a Thought"

Or how taking a shower, baking some cookies, and cooking some of Granny Franny's pasta a la gorgonzola to freeze changed yesterday from a bad day to a good one.

I don't think it hurt to imagine little 10-year-old love muffin Tris asking his mom to please cuddle a little with him before going to bed (see comments from last post). And it didn't hurt that I have the best, most understanding, most loving, most dedicated husband on earth.

I've been really interested in cooking the past week, which is really unlike me. Last night, Jim was reading one of the books he got for Christmas and said I should read something, but I had already read all of the (3) cookbooks in our apartment! I got up this morning and cooked us an egg, onion, cheese, avocado, fake sausage breakfast. I think this might be nesting?

Seamus moved around like crazy yesterday, which also helped my mood a lot. This morning, I think he even moved in reaction to my voice. I said "Good morning, Seamus!" while rubbing my belly and he moved his butt around a little bit. I don't think I've ever wanted something more than to see his little face and body in the world. Sigh.

Things I'm Worried About Today

I woke up today worried, anxious, stressing out. I think my hormones are wacky the past few days. I feel a little depressed---the same way I sometimes feel on day 3 of my period. Just feel kind of blah, bored, unmotivated, and it doesn't help that there's a Law & Order Criminal Intent (with Vincent D'Onofrio) marathon on today! I love Detective Goren!

Today's worries: Money, work, facing the day, lack of motivation, and "spinning" the baby (see Jim's post below).

I know none of this will matter the moment I see my son's face, feel his skin against mine, breastfeed, see him smile for the first time, etc. I know I will have a whole new set of worries after he gets here but I've also been assured that being a parent will be the most amazing experience of my life and have no doubt about that.

I am feeling impatient, excited, terrified, elated, anticipatory, and tired. It's not quite as bad as it sounds. I would guess that these are normal things to be feeling right now. Life is about to change a lot!

So, time to lie low, watch my show, maybe go for a walk, pet the cats, make some cookies, take a nap, and get ready for this little monkey to come into our lives when he's good and ready!

I hope that Seamus is as cheeky as his mother was when she was a kid.

Rotating a baby

The midwives tell us that Seamus is in a "right occiput" position, meaning that he needs to rotate a few degrees counter-clockwise if we want him to be in the optimal, "occiput anterior" position. And we do want him to be in that position, because labor is somewhat more difficult and protracted when babies are not thus oriented -- primarily because the tip of the baby's pointy little head is not helping to force the cervix open. And, probably not coincidentally, that's the position that best encourages head molding, the process which causes one's child to be born with a (temporarily) cone-shaped head -- a phenomenon which tends to alarm new fathers (e.g. James Herriot and Bryan Drysdale), but which makes delivery easier.

To move him to the "OA" position, there are a number of tricks that one can employ, most of which involve getting into positions that are a) reminiscent of Twister, b) provocative, and/or c) very difficult for a pregnant woman. Nevertheless, with the help of the website Spinning Babies and advice from our midwives, Greta is trying out some of these positions.

If he doesn't go OA on us within the next couple of weeks, we can try other things, such as chiropractors and massage therapists who specialize in helping to position babies.

We also learned that Seamus' head is not engaged in the pelvis yet, which means that his birth is likely still a few weeks away. This is good news to me, because I feel like the more time we have to prepare, the better -- but Greta groaned, "I don't know how I'm going to make it through another three or four weeks of this!"

Happy Boxing Day

The cats are recovering from last night's present-opening (see image above) by snoozing on our bed, and Greta, inspired by them, is napping on the couch, with her feet in my lap. Since I can't move, I thought I might as well do a blog post.

We had a great time up on Connecticut, hanging with Greta's family. Her parents have gone through a lot of positive changes over the past couple of years, with the side benefit that holidays have become more and more pleasant. This year's Christmas was the mellowest every -- there was a lot of sitting by the fire talking, and we got to hang out with Mimi for a while, too, even though she was still recovering from a bad cold.

It was also excellent to see my nephews-in-law again ... they are becoming more adult-like at a rapid clip, which is somewhat alarming but also very pleasing to witness.

We had another nice midwife appointment this morning as well, but I'll let Greta post about that ... if I can get her to wake up. Actually, I have to wake her up soon so that we can go see the Borat movie ... accompanying me to a movie is a sort of Christmas present from her to me. She loves movies but, cursed with bionic hearing, she finds herself easily distracted and annoyed by people doing things like chewing popcorn twelve rows away. I will give her a few (imaginary) Valium and hold her hand to help her through this movie.

I hope that all readers of this blog had equally enjoyable holidays!

Naughty Elves

What with the childbirth classes and the list-making and the baby-stuff shopping and the apartment-cleaning etc. etc., we have done pretty much nothing about Christmas. And Greta just interrupted my blogging to list three things that we have to do today (clean out our storage facility, shop for stocking stuffers for Greta's family, make food for freezing), so I don't think we're going to catch up on our Christmas-elf tasks today.

In other words, none of you will be getting anything from us in time for Christmas. Sorry ... we will send you stuff afterwards, though! We'll aim for the Feast of the Epiphany .. so watch your mailboxes.

By the way, I tried to find a picture of naughty elves for this post ... take my advice and never, ever, do an image search for "naughty elves". Some very disturbing pictures come up. You don't want to your children to see what some pornographer imagines Santa gets up to during the off season.

We are ready to parent!

Last night was our last RealBirth class, "Newborn Care". (See Greta comfort our Practice Child, right.) We had five three-hour classes on how to deal with childbirth, which lasts 48 hours at most ... and one three-hour class on how to take care of a child, which we'll be doing for the rest of our lives. Does that make any sense to you?

We didn't get a certificate or anything, but I feel like, with RealBirth's help, we've gone from "completely unprepared" all the way to "almost completely unprepared."

Last night's class stressed me out ... SIDS, meconium, hooded towels, super-sensitive skin, jaundice ... so much to deal with!

At the end of the class, the instructor told us that she'd been feeling the same way shortly before her first child was born. She called up her mother in a panic, telling her, "I am so not ready! I don't have anything!" Her mother responded, "Oh, listen, honey: all you need is tits and a blanket."

Almost as scary as Mexican clowns

... is that freakish humanoid monster, Santa Claus. Children can sense his sinister nature. I hate to see children get upset, but for some reason, these photos make me laugh out loud. (My favorite is number 8.)

Rather than subject Seamus to this torture, we will send him into preschool armed with twenty scientific reasons why Santa can't possibly be real. The resulting social ostracism will toughen him up.

Speaking of Mexican clowns, I went looking for a photo of one and found this:


I don't even know where to begin to describe what's wrong with this picture. From the Che wristband to the broken-off sideview car mirror, it's just completely, profoundly WRONG. I think we can all agree that this guy should not be allowed within fifty yards of any children, much less be "performing" for them.

Amazed by the Generosity!

This week, I was reminded again how generous and creative people can be. First, I got a very nice package from Leif, one of my coworkers with lots of really cute stuff for Seamus to wear, including an orange and yellow striped shirt I would have definitely bought for him myself. Can't wait to put it on him!

Then we got a couple of very comfy outfits from Jenny and Iam that Seamus is going to love! Do they make terrycloth footsie pajamas with hoods for adults? I want some!

Leif, Rob, Elfranko, and Robert---my Production coworkers---gave me the sweetest gift: A start to a college fund for Seamus Blau! Very cute and Jim and I DO intend on that being the start of his college fund for sure.

The highlight of the week was a surprise baby shower at work that my boss threw for me. It's the first time I've been surprised in my entire life, I think. I was so clueless that I went out to run some errands toward the end of the day and was 1/2 hour late! All of my coworkers were standing around, waiting for me to waddle down the street, up the elevator, sit at my desk, refuse to get up from my desk to "go look at some computers" and finally be convinced by Jim that "THEY NEED US IN THE CONFERENCE ROOM." Of course I cried when I saw the smallest, but most thoughtful gift, a personalized toothfairy box for Seamus. All in all a bountiful week. We're so grateful for all of the generosity.

And can't leave out the additional coolest kid on the block gift we got from the Drysdales last week---Seamus' first Vans! Thanks, left coasties!

Click at your own risk

The other night, at RealBirth's breastfeeding class, the instructor asked us, "Who can tell me one way that you can keep track of how much your baby is eating?"

Always the teacher's pet, I raised my hand and answered, "By keeping track of its peeing and pooing?" (I would have preferred to use the Anglo-Saxon terms, but I chickened out.) The instructor said, "Very good! You win the prize," and handed me a chart ... a very special chart ... with photos virtually identical to the ones you'll see here.

Don't blame me if you lose your appetite after clicking on that link. You have been warned!

Final preparations

This photo is a visual metaphor for where Greta and I are right now with the baby thing. As Delivery Day approaches, we are semi-frantically trying to make sure that everything is ready. In the past week, we have:

- Finished our childbirth prep course at RealBirth
- Taken RealBirth's one-night breastfeeding course
- Received the "birth kit" (see photo below) from our midwives

- Reassured the cats that we'll still love them
- Met with our doulas (one of whom was our RealBirth instructor)
- and today, our awesome friend Kristen stopped by to help us with laundry (washing Seamus' clothes, blankets, etc) and shopping (so that we can make some casserole-type food and freeze it, thereby alleviating the need to cook during the first few weeks of Seamus' life)

And we still need to:
- Take RealBirth's "Infant Care" class (scheduled for next week)
- Get Mary-Margaret's changing table from Cliff and Sandy's basement
- Get the breast pump and a few other goodies from Souffle and Dave
- Meet with the midwives a couple more times
- Figure out how we're going to take care of Seamus while still managing to work enough to pay rent.

What are we forgetting? Oh lord, I know we must be forgetting so many important things ...

Is this really happening? Rambling post...

I'm 35 weeks today! If Seamus were born today, we'd probably have to go to the hospital to have him, but he'd most likely be perfectly fine and we'd probably be able to go home fairly soon after his birth.

But there's so much to do! I have a to-do list that's 3 pages long! I'm feeling a new sense of urgency to get all of this done before Seamus gets here! Do we get the diapers, olive oil, and "placenta pan" first or plan food for freezing for after Seamus is born? Do we make Christmas cookies to send out or wash Seamus's clothes in special, just-for-baby's skin detergent? Do I call to make my dentist appointment or go clean out the storage space that we're paying $100 a month for (once you haven't used stuff for 2 years, you probably don't need any of it)?

I suppose anything that we need for directly after Seamus's birth is most important and we can always send Christmas packages in January (hint, people, you're probably not getting any Christmas packages on time this year!).

Due to the incredible generosity of family and friends, our apartment is filling up with all things Seamus and I feel so overwhelmed and also so hopeful and expectant and excited. We were showered with gifts from Brad and Jen this week and we've been getting Christmas packages from the Blau/Soule clan every day this week. I love to see Seamus's name on Christmas packages and to loook at all of the stuff that's HIS---the little extra human who will be here before we know it---who will make Jim and I more of a family than we already are.

Sigh. Overwhelmed with joy.

You'll See!!

Jim and I have discovered that some parents love to tell you horror stories once they see that you are going to be parents soon. We're glad that we're surrounded mostly by people who tell us how amazing being a parent is and how sleep is overrated. It's amazing to me how excited people are for us and how generous everyone has been with useful advice, hand-me-downs, and encouraging words. Souffle even said she loved childbirth. These are the kinds of things people need to hear, not "Well, good LUCK with the delivery. My epidural was late and it was really painful!" Uh. Yeah.

Not to say that we don't want to know about the realities of birth and childrearing. I mean, it's good to know about all of the uncomfortable details regarding the state my nether regions might be in after birth, or what constipation looks like in a baby, or the importance of hindmilk, or how we might be completely out of our minds for a couple of weeks with insomnia. We don't want to be in the dark here. But there's a way of saying these things that's not like "Oh god, you've made the worst mistake of your lives."

So thanks to everyone who's been so supportive, positive, and honest throughout my pregnancy. That's what we've needed (especially me!). Keep it coming!

The Lamberts rule! (and we are spazzes.)

We just got back from a pleasant afternoon in Hoboken, hanging out with the world's cutest 1-year-old (see photo, right), and returned laden down with an incredible amount of baby stuff. Souffle and Dave gave us a stroller, a breast pump, a wee tent, a bunch of baby books, a car seat insert (with extra padding for an infant), baby clothes (including a Ramones t-shirt!), and god only knows what else. And this is the second time they've showered us with infant supplies!

But best of all, Souffle put together this incredible "Post-Natal Survival Kit":


I am dumbfounded by the amount of thoroughness and detail that she put into it ... basically, it's Everything You Didn't Know You Needed For The First Few Weeks Of Your Baby's Life, with each product carefully selected for maximum usefulness and superiority to competing products. I think she should get out of the web-design biz and just market these kits!

For less spastic people, getting this loot home might have been easy. We, however, got onto the wrong train and ended up at the Christopher Street PATH station, a narrow, claustrophobia-inducing tube not equipped with an elevator to the street -- which presented a problem, because we had all of the Lamberts' baby stuff piled into the stroller and draped about our persons. For some reason (perhaps because I was excessively annoyed by the lack of an elevator, or perhaps because we were both on sugar highs from having shared a brownie sundae at the Frozen Monkey), the situation took on an air of crisis. At one memorable point, Greta was yelling at me to just lift the damn stroller over the exit turnstile instead of trying to fold it up, when a box tumbled out of the stroller, rolling towards the edge of the platform while I chased after it, at the very moment that a train was entering the station on that track. "Don't follow it onto the tracks!!" Greta shouted.

I managed to retrieve the box before it put my life in danger and lift the stroller over the turnstile, but there was no way that the two of us -- one of us very pregnant -- were going to be able to wrestle all of this stuff up the three flights of stairs to the street. Fortunately, at that very moment, a nice couple was laboriously carrying their own stroller down the stairs. The husband took pity on us and offered to help us carry our packages up to the street. "This station is ridiculous!" he said as we climbed up into the crisp December evening air. We thanked him profusely and caught a cab the rest of the way home.

We will have to work on our crisis management skills if we're going to deal with parenthood ...

Thanks again, Souffle and Dave!

PS: I should note that the couple who helped us at Christopher Street were clearly also stressing: as the husband prepared to help us with our packages, he motioned towards the turnstiles and said to his wife, "Just go on through, honey!", to which she replied (in a kidding-on-the-square tone), "Don't tell me what to do!"

Suburban debauchery

It may be a little hard to tell from the attached photos, but what you're looking at is the scandalous goings-on in a suburban New Jersey basement last night, at a "holiday party". If you look closely, you can see Lily helping out her mom with the vocals, and Charlie backing up his dad on percussion. Other children were square-dancing (sort of) or playing kazoos; the adults in the audience were eating gumbo, Byron sang "Summer Breeze", and Paul was dressed as a farmer for some reason.

In summary, it was a much tamer party for this crowd than in years past -- the only ones who dropped their pants at the end of the night were Charlie and Lily -- but no less memorable for it. The kids had a blast, and I hope that Seamus will get to enjoy similar revelry in future years.

34-Week Midwife Visit

Everything's good. Seamus is growing, heartbeat was strong, my blood pressure was perfect (110/70). Jim got to feel Seamus's head, which has not dropped completely but is a little lower than before. We have to order a birthing kit, which in includes olive oil, shower curtains, and murphy's oil soap!

We have another appointment in 2-3 weeks and then we'll meet with the midwives every week until Seamus makes his debut!

Birthdays, future and present

On Wednesday, we had the news of Liz and Aaron's new arrival; today I learned that The Creator and his lovely wife, Jen, are anticipating a wormling in June 2007! That is one lucky kid ... he/she will have the coolest parents north of NYC.

And I still have a half hour left to wish a happy birthday to Evelin, whom we miss very much ... we even miss her digressive work stories! Evelin, I wish we could come downstairs and have some Whole Foods cake with you, and laugh at Leila's antics ...


... and finally, Happy Birthday as well to Antoinette, Seamus' maternal great-grandmother. I hope that he inherits even a fraction of her energy, generosity of spirit, and sheer joy in life ... and that we can help to encourage these traits in him.


(Sorry about the somewhat lame photos, ladies ... looking through our iPhoto library, I found that we have many portraits of cats, and not so many of friends and family.)

High anxiety

This pregnancy has produced in us an unfamiliar mixture of joy and anxiety. There's the terror of anticipating the birth: he's getting bigger every day, and he's gotta come out somehow -- and there's the fun of anticipating reading bedtime stories. We worry about mental retardation, SIDS, whether he'll make friends easily -- and we look forward to pushing him around in his stroller in the parks in our neighborhood.

Our friend Liz just gave birth yesterday, and so did Annie, an online friend of Greta's (congratulations, ladies!!). They both gave birth in hospitals; Annie had an epidural, and Liz says she and her husband didn't do a lot of preparation for the birth, putting their trust in their doctors. Both births seem to have gone quite smoothly and the new mothers appear to be ecstatic. Greta said to me, "They did pretty much the opposite of what we're doing, and their births went just fine. Are we crazy to be trying for a natural birth? If labor went so well for them, will it be horrible for me? What if I can't handle it?"

I told her to close her eyes and imagine what the homebirth was going to be like. "The candles ... the music ... I'll be there ... you mother will be there ... the midwife ... the doula ..."

"What if I decide I don't like the doula? We haven't even hired one yet!" she said.

"You just have to focus on the end result. Try to think of some fun things we'll do with Seamus: chasing him around the apartment, pretending to be a monster ..."

"... taking him to the petting zoo in Central Park, to feed the goats ..." she said.

" ... tickling him ... babies are so awesome when they laugh ..." I added.

" ... taking him on hikes ..." she said.

" ... taking him to see fireflies in the summer ..." I said.

Greta was quiet for a minute. And then she was asleep. And now she's fast asleep next to me.

More Shower Photos

Seamus's Nana!

Cute monster bib from Kristen and John. This is from a cool website where you can buy all handcrafted stuff. www.etsy.com (I don't know how to embed links like Jim does!)

Some of the yummy food

Photo from the book of photos Jim's big sister Teri brought with her!

Thanks, John for the photos!

Catchin' up with the comments

I would really love to see a blog system that has powerful comments-browsing tools. Slashdot's system is the best I've seen so far -- you can sort a post's comments in a number of different ways -- but I'd like to see more: specifically, a way to quickly see all of the comments that you haven't yet read in all of the blog's posts (within a user-specified date range or number of posts). It would be kind of like how voicemail systems inform you of new messages -- when bringing up a blog, there should be a line at the top that reads something like, "You have 23 unread comments in 6 different posts", with embedded links to both the comments and the posts. Posts with unread comments in them could have flags next to them, too, like the ones in email programs that inform you which messages have not yet been read.

Fascinating, eh? If only I expended this much mental energy on making money, I wouldn't have to be stressed about child care ...

This is my roundabout and humiliatingly geeky way of saying that there are a number of comments in posts below to which I'd like to respond:

Mom: I'm still working on the monster cereals ... the Count Chocula is disappearing steadily (I mix it in with my muesli when Greta isn't looking), but the other two may be more of an acquired taste. I'm sure that when I'm hungry at 4:30 am some night, after Seamus has just woken up for the fifth time that night, "Booberry" will taste just fine.

About books: I read There's A Wocket In My Pocket to Seamus a couple of nights ago. He seemed to like it; he had hiccups for about a half hour afterwards. I think he was laughing about the snooty Nooth Grush.

About Houdini Dunn: Tris did his handcuff escape for Greta, but she objected to him leaving the room during the actual escape part. Tris pointed out, with unassailable logic and historical accuracy, that Houdini didn't let people see how he did his escapes, either.

Mr Dyson: Please stop posting on this blog, or I will be forced to ban you. Or beat you over the head with our vacuum cleaner, which will no doubt immediately break.

Teri: Yes; it's yet another example of short-term profit-chasing taking precedence over long-term loyalty and societal benefit. If I have to resort to bank robbery, TPR is to blame!

Danny: If there is a God, and he's a giant turkey, then you're set for all eternity. If, however, it turns out that Ted Nugent is in charge of the universe, you're in big trouble. (Seriously, though, it's very cool that you did that. Though not very smart, turkeys are beautiful and interesting animals who no doubt would prefer not to be eaten.)

About running: The official results of the Newburyport Turkey Trot can be found here ... I'm number 414. Not bad for a 4-year-old!

Brian: Your high opinion of Buddy's looks is hopelessly biased. Good to hear from you, though!

Buenos noches, all, and keep those comments coming!

Wonder Boys

Everywhere I go now, I'm fascinated by parents with boys in tow -- I can see my future in them. I'm really looking forward to doing all of that boy stuff with Seamus: taking him to soccer practice, or the zoo, or to watch the dogs at the dog run ... so many fun things to look forward to.

Greta and I had a great time hanging out with my nephews over the Thanksgiving break ... they made us laugh, and impressed us with their talents (Tris: origami, recorder, Houdiniesque escapes; Wes: drumming and cyclocross). Actually, I was quite blown away by Wes' drumming, and I'm sure he'll be playing in a band soon. Can't wait to see what Seamus will be into about a decade from now!

Attack Of The Pecan Tart Eater

Meet Buddy Dunn. He looks innocent, doesn't he? And yet, within that adorable, fuzzy little head lurks a powerful lust for sweet, sweet pecan tarts ... or anything that's edible, really.

Here he is getting to know the tarts, shortly before the crime occurred.


Just moments later, we sat down to eat our Thanksgiving feast. I got up to replenish our supply of peas-and-mushrooms, and upon entering the kitchen, caught Buddy red-handed ... crumb-lipped ... whatever. He was chomping his way through the entire plate of tarts. He had made a good start of it, and had ingested more than half of them before I pulled him away from the plate and moved it to higher ground.

The consensus in the Dunn household was that the tarts would soon emerge from one end of Buddy or the other, transformed in an unappetizing manner. However, sugar, butter, and pecans seemed to agree with his digestive system, and he was soon back in prime begging form underneath the dinner table.


I am grateful for domesticated animals ... they are almost all natural comedians.

PS: This post should not be confused with the film classic Attack Of The The Eye Creatures.

Giving Thanks...

Our Thanksgiving started at 6 AM. We woke up early to go to Newburyport, MA for the white-people-with-white-people-dogs 5K Turkey Trot. Jim’s been training for the last couple of months and his goal was to finish the race without stopping and to finish in under 30 minutes.

And he did it despite the cross-country terrain and big hills! We were both so proud that he accomplished his goal that we went and stuffed our faces with eggs and French toast at the Agawam Diner where the elderly, male cashier told us to have a “crappy Thanksgiving.” Of course, I loved him.

We went back to the B&B where we were staying and had a soak in the hot tub–like bath tub and took a nap. I could only soak my legs (so as not to boil the baby), which really needed to be done because I woke up twice the night before with the most painful leg cramp ever recorded. (The first time I had no idea what the hell had hit me. I just screeched and writhed and Jim rubbed my leg and reminded me, “Breathe, Greeba!” I thought at that very moment that Jim is going to be a great labor coach and that if I can get through it un-medicated, it will be with his help.)

Thanksgiving was great and we hadn’t even gotten to the real eating yet! There’s something to this getting up early thing.

I’ll let Jim write about the wonderful meal we had at casa de Teri, Shawn, Wes, Tris, Buddy (the Pecan-tart–loving golden retriever), Mary (the cat), and Teddy-Pig (the very contented Guinea pig).

Things I’m thankful for that I couldn’t get out before the meal because of my hormonally challenged emotions:
1) Seamus is healthy.
2) He has two parents.
3) I have the best, most patient husband in the world.
4) Seamus will get to meet his great grandmother (and he’ll think she’s as cool as we do).
5) We have a roof over our heads and food in our bellies.

Off to Gloucester for Thanksgiving! Quick Post!

We're off this morning to Gloucester, Massachusetts, location of the Gorton's fish factory, setting for the Perfect Storm, and home to Jim's sister, Teri and her family. We'll be spending Thanksgiving with them and having our last hurrah by staying at a B&B in adorable Rockport, one town over.



We have a lot to be grateful for this year. We had an ultrasound yesterday because of the previous tests and ultrasounds we had way back that indicated that there was a higher risk than normal that Seamus could have Downs. The midwife wanted to make sure he didn't have any conditions that might make homebirth a life-threatening proposition.

You might remember that the ultrasound showed a calcium deposit on his heart, which some doctors will consider a soft marker for Downs, but yesterday, the doctor (who is more of a specialist) said that they haven't considered that a factor for about the last 4 years. So we're back up to something like 1 in 40 or 60 instead of 1 in 20. He's healthy though and if he does have Downs we already love him so much that we won't care. He's our son no matter what. That won't change.

Some facts about Seamus: He's about 4 pounds, measuring normally for his gestational age, still definitely a boy, heart looks good, stomach looks good (both problem areas for Downs babies), he moved around like crazy (the ulstrasound tech said, "You're going to have your hands full!"), and his amniotic fluid and placenta look great. Doctor said he'll probably gain about a pound every 2 weeks from here on in, so if I go on time, he'll be about 8 pounds. Hmmm. We might have to rethink those newborn-sized onesies!

Could we have anymore to be grateful for? Jim and I were beaming when we left the ultrasound. Finally some good freaking news! We also went to our birthing class last night where we saw 3 different birthing experiences. I'm not afraid anymore. Just really excited to finally meet this baby!

Happy Thanksgiving! Let the turkeys live!