Perhaps it’s the hormones making me feel sentimental, but I have this urge to share how wonderful I think Chris is, and what better day to say it than on his birthday. Don’t worry, it’s not all sappy. Keep reading…
Recent events gave me the opportunity to really see Chris as a caregiver. Naturally, there has always been that element in our relationship; I’ve always felt that I could count on him for anything. But last week, when struck by food poisoning and feeling absolutely helpless, he showed me that he had the fortitude that a father should possess.
Throughout the pregnancy, so far, Chris has proved that he wanted to be involved. He’d wake me up in the middle of the night to tell me to lie on my left side because lying on my back was not good for me and the baby. He watched what I ate and was relentless in having me follow the doctor’s dietary instructions… never letting me cheat, not even just a little. To make matters worse, he’s started to give me cute little pet names like “big ol’ girl” and “fatty.” Honestly, I was beginning to doubt that he’d actually survive the pregnancy.
But then, I imagined the other end of the spectrum. He could simply not care how I’m doing or how the baby is doing. But instead, he actually reads about how we’re progressing and he’s come with me to as many doctor appointments he could. He’s proven that he cares.
Recently, he proved it again when I became possessed by demons… or at least it felt that way. I mean I hadn’t been this sick since consuming a toxic mixture of beer, wine, tequila, and bong hits. Normally, this is the part where one would say, “I’ll spare you the details” but in this case, I don’t think I will…
It all started with some violent projectile vomiting into the bath tub. It came over me with virtually no warning. Chris pounded on the door wanting to get in to help me and I just kept yelling, “go away!” He barged in anyway while I was washing my face and, although I’d insisted that he not, he began to clean the mess, all the while complimenting me on how far I'd made it up the tile on the walls. At that point, I didn’t argue anymore. It gave me the chance to brush my teeth and go to bed. But that wasn’t the end of it. If you’ve ever had food poisoning, you know what I mean. It’s miserable. I proceeded to get up all night long, time and time again. It almost seemed as if my stomach was on a timer and needed to evacuate every 1.5 hours. Each time, there was Chris, getting out of bed right behind me with a cold wash cloth to place on the back of my neck as he held my hair and gently rubbed my back. And during the hours following this ordeal, Chris was there to make me feel guilty about not eating all day because it “just can’t be good for the baby.”
I was amazed by how tender and sweet he was during that time and I’ve been so impressed by his devotion to his daughter before we’ve had the chance to meet her in person. He’s a great guy and will make one hell of a father. And if he keeps the fat jokes to a minimum, he’ll actually live to become one.
Tuesday, April 28, 2009
Sunday, April 19, 2009
It's a Girl!!
Okay, so we're now in week 20.... that's 20 out of 40 weeks! And if you're on Facebook, you probably already know that we are expecting a little girl. This really changes things for us. It’s totally different now that we can say “she” and “her” when we talk about our future. That’s pretty cool.
So, Friday afternoon was our ultrasound appointment. Chris arrived first and I followed soon after. In an effort to see how many people we could fit in a small exam room, we were joined by my parents, my middle brother, Jeremy, his wife, Kristen, and their 7-month-old son, Clark.
In the waiting room, we played with Clark, until they called my name. My family stayed behind while Chris and I first went in by ourselves. I couldn’t stop smiling. I was so excited that soon we would know whether to paint airplanes or flowers on the walls of the nursery. But the visit wasn’t quite what I was expecting...
First, came the formalities; drivers license, insurance, etc. After the paperwork was out of the way, they shut off the lights and squirted the cold gel on my belly…. This was it! ...wait….no, this was NOT it. They proceeded to identify and measure certain parts of her anatomy; the head, long bones, abdomen, all four chambers of the heart, etc…. Now, don't get me wrong, this was great. It is comforting to know that all of these parts existed and were normal, but every time I caught a glimpse of a cute little hand moving, or a leg kicking, the technician would move right on passed it to get a better look at the kidneys. Kidneys aren’t cute! I don’t want to see her bladder on a big screen TV! I want a look at little toes or a tiny little face… I wanted to know if it was a boy or a girl, dammit! I realized right away why they called this the "anatomy ultrasound." Prior to this moment, I thought they were just being polite. "Anatomy ultrasound" sounds much better than the "Does-it-have-a-penis Ultrasound." No, this was a true examination of the little one’s anatomy. They wanted to get an idea of developmental progress and they also make a determination of the due date based on their findings.
Finally, we were asked the question, “Do y’all wanna know what it is?” YES! Thank you! Of course I do… patience is NOT a virtue that I possess. Chris hurried out the door to get my family and soon the room was filled.
As much as I’d been saying that I wanted a boy, when the words, “that’s a little girl right there,” were spoken, I gushed. I was consumed with happiness. My mom had claimed the space directly in front of the TV when they’d first entered the room but she quickly abandoned it to rush to the foot of the bed where I laid to say, “oh, a little girl! You’ll have the best relationship!” Chris was standing over the technician trying to get some kind of a guarantee out of her that it was, without a doubt, a girl. He was all ready to rush home and start painting flowers. He was satisfied when she offered her 100% certainty. Here is the picture they took of her little legs
opened but crossed at the ankles… like a little lady. Admittedly, there’s not much to see in this picture but I promise you, the moving images were much more easily distinguishable and very cool to see. Chris pointed out how often she was “geeking the camera” by waving her arms around so much.
The final step in the ultrasound was to get a picture of her face. This proved to be quite the task. The technician carelessly shifted the wand over my belly up and down, left and right. I can’t describe to you the sensitivity your abdomen has when you’re pregnant, but they seemed to give no regard to that whatsoever. They claimed that they were having such trouble getting an image of her face because she was either shy or stubborn. My loving family responded in unison, “she’s stubborn,” as if it was so inconceivable that anyone carrying my genes could possibly be shy.
Well, they did get a picture. The one I’ve included here catches the iris of one of her eyes very well. I like to think that she was mean-muggin’ the technicians for bombarding her with sound waves… that must be annoying. I give them a hard time, but actually, these ladies did a great job and made us all feel very comfortable. In fact, we may see them again. The closing pin tattoo on my hip prompted a brief discussion about skydiving and Chris was ready with Skydive Houston business cards in hand.
The next morning, Chris and I went to breakfast at Denny’s. As you can probably imagine, the topic of discussion was our daughter. We’d already picked out a name; Rebecca Renee (Rebecca is both my middle name and my mother's first name while Renee is Chris' mother's middle name). During the meal, Chris hatched his plan to bulk up to the point of pure intimidation so that boys will think twice about talking to his daughter. Other guests, a young couple, arrived to sit at the table next to us. In a car seat was a sweet, sleeping, baby girl. I noticed that her ears were pierced and recalled that it was normal in my family to pierce a baby’s ears. I asked Chris his opinion on this but his response was simply, “why don’t we go ahead and pierce her nipples while we’re at it.” I gathered that he was not too keen on the idea and left it alone.
While we have a long road ahead of us, and many things to learn and decisions to make as parents, we are looking forward to it, as unexpected as it is. And, yes, I’d told everyone how I wanted a baby boy, and truth be told, I did. But in the end, I don’t think it ever really mattered to me what the gender would be. She’s our child. And she’ll be perfect no matter what.
I’ll be writing again with more news in the future. I plan to start a “how much weight will she gain” poll… that is, if my mental health will be able to sustain the damage that may be caused by the results that are sure to be insulting and, let’s be honest, probably accurate…
So, Friday afternoon was our ultrasound appointment. Chris arrived first and I followed soon after. In an effort to see how many people we could fit in a small exam room, we were joined by my parents, my middle brother, Jeremy, his wife, Kristen, and their 7-month-old son, Clark.
In the waiting room, we played with Clark, until they called my name. My family stayed behind while Chris and I first went in by ourselves. I couldn’t stop smiling. I was so excited that soon we would know whether to paint airplanes or flowers on the walls of the nursery. But the visit wasn’t quite what I was expecting...
First, came the formalities; drivers license, insurance, etc. After the paperwork was out of the way, they shut off the lights and squirted the cold gel on my belly…. This was it! ...wait….no, this was NOT it. They proceeded to identify and measure certain parts of her anatomy; the head, long bones, abdomen, all four chambers of the heart, etc…. Now, don't get me wrong, this was great. It is comforting to know that all of these parts existed and were normal, but every time I caught a glimpse of a cute little hand moving, or a leg kicking, the technician would move right on passed it to get a better look at the kidneys. Kidneys aren’t cute! I don’t want to see her bladder on a big screen TV! I want a look at little toes or a tiny little face… I wanted to know if it was a boy or a girl, dammit! I realized right away why they called this the "anatomy ultrasound." Prior to this moment, I thought they were just being polite. "Anatomy ultrasound" sounds much better than the "Does-it-have-a-penis Ultrasound." No, this was a true examination of the little one’s anatomy. They wanted to get an idea of developmental progress and they also make a determination of the due date based on their findings.
Finally, we were asked the question, “Do y’all wanna know what it is?” YES! Thank you! Of course I do… patience is NOT a virtue that I possess. Chris hurried out the door to get my family and soon the room was filled.
As much as I’d been saying that I wanted a boy, when the words, “that’s a little girl right there,” were spoken, I gushed. I was consumed with happiness. My mom had claimed the space directly in front of the TV when they’d first entered the room but she quickly abandoned it to rush to the foot of the bed where I laid to say, “oh, a little girl! You’ll have the best relationship!” Chris was standing over the technician trying to get some kind of a guarantee out of her that it was, without a doubt, a girl. He was all ready to rush home and start painting flowers. He was satisfied when she offered her 100% certainty. Here is the picture they took of her little legs
opened but crossed at the ankles… like a little lady. Admittedly, there’s not much to see in this picture but I promise you, the moving images were much more easily distinguishable and very cool to see. Chris pointed out how often she was “geeking the camera” by waving her arms around so much.The final step in the ultrasound was to get a picture of her face. This proved to be quite the task. The technician carelessly shifted the wand over my belly up and down, left and right. I can’t describe to you the sensitivity your abdomen has when you’re pregnant, but they seemed to give no regard to that whatsoever. They claimed that they were having such trouble getting an image of her face because she was either shy or stubborn. My loving family responded in unison, “she’s stubborn,” as if it was so inconceivable that anyone carrying my genes could possibly be shy.
Well, they did get a picture. The one I’ve included here catches the iris of one of her eyes very well. I like to think that she was mean-muggin’ the technicians for bombarding her with sound waves… that must be annoying. I give them a hard time, but actually, these ladies did a great job and made us all feel very comfortable. In fact, we may see them again. The closing pin tattoo on my hip prompted a brief discussion about skydiving and Chris was ready with Skydive Houston business cards in hand.The next morning, Chris and I went to breakfast at Denny’s. As you can probably imagine, the topic of discussion was our daughter. We’d already picked out a name; Rebecca Renee (Rebecca is both my middle name and my mother's first name while Renee is Chris' mother's middle name). During the meal, Chris hatched his plan to bulk up to the point of pure intimidation so that boys will think twice about talking to his daughter. Other guests, a young couple, arrived to sit at the table next to us. In a car seat was a sweet, sleeping, baby girl. I noticed that her ears were pierced and recalled that it was normal in my family to pierce a baby’s ears. I asked Chris his opinion on this but his response was simply, “why don’t we go ahead and pierce her nipples while we’re at it.” I gathered that he was not too keen on the idea and left it alone.
While we have a long road ahead of us, and many things to learn and decisions to make as parents, we are looking forward to it, as unexpected as it is. And, yes, I’d told everyone how I wanted a baby boy, and truth be told, I did. But in the end, I don’t think it ever really mattered to me what the gender would be. She’s our child. And she’ll be perfect no matter what.
I’ll be writing again with more news in the future. I plan to start a “how much weight will she gain” poll… that is, if my mental health will be able to sustain the damage that may be caused by the results that are sure to be insulting and, let’s be honest, probably accurate…
Sunday, April 12, 2009
Getting Started
Well, with the belly growing and the ultrasound that tells us the sex of the baby right around the corner, we've decided to start this blog in order to easily share our experiences with our friends and family. We hope that you enjoy reading it and share your comments, as well.
As the weeks continued and the nausea came and went, mommy-to-be had given up nearly everything she once loved... coffee, cigarettes, alcohol, skydiving, being able to eat whatever she wanted without watching her ass spread, even deli meat for goodness sakes. The only good part about pregnancy, so far, is getting bigger boobs. We hope we get to keep them but, unfortunately, we realize that we're talking about the physical anatomy and not some cute little puppy that followed us home one day... We'll update you on the boobies sometime after the baby is born.
We'll start by catching up on what has occurred in the last 19 weeks. If the doctor is correct, we conceived after a night of some good-old-fashioned turkey bowling at Skydive Houston... we'll spare you the details. Here, we've posted some of the turkey bowling pictures. These are the last 
known images of the care-free Scaife's that once existed...
known images of the care-free Scaife's that once existed...Six weeks later, after wearing white pants, admittedly in a feeble attempt to "coax" out a menstrual period, a pregnancy test proved what was suspected... the Scaife's would be parents. We agreed to keep it to ourselves until we'd gotten past the first trimester, which is typically the most dangerous for the pregnancy, but one of us spilled the beans after only one day. One hint as to who it was.... he's bald. But he wasn't the only one... a few days later Kate received a call from her father to let her know that her mother had already made several phone calls to everyone she know to share the news. Apparently she concluded each with "and they're not telling anyone yet so you have to remember to act surprised."
At week eight we had the most wonderful experience of our first ultrasound at the doctor's office. It was the first time we got to hear the heartbeat and it was amazing. We've posted the ultrasound images here. Really, it looks more like a lima bean than a baby, but this is a work in progress! As magical as it was, the doctor visit was also a little unsettling because she performed a physical exam right before the ultrasound which poor Chris was not expecting and had never had the pleasure of being present for. He sat, seemingly content, reading a "Star" magazine, as if he cared who Lindsay Lohan's BFF is, but you could see the discomfort written all over his face.
As the weeks continued and the nausea came and went, mommy-to-be had given up nearly everything she once loved... coffee, cigarettes, alcohol, skydiving, being able to eat whatever she wanted without watching her ass spread, even deli meat for goodness sakes. The only good part about pregnancy, so far, is getting bigger boobs. We hope we get to keep them but, unfortunately, we realize that we're talking about the physical anatomy and not some cute little puppy that followed us home one day... We'll update you on the boobies sometime after the baby is born.
Now, here we are at the start of 19 weeks (nearly half way there!) and we're so excited. In five days we will know whether to expect a boy or a girl. We'll do our best to have that information posted here as soon as we can as well as additional updates in the future.
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