33W0D: I Could Just Maybe Be Nesting

James thinks I'm nesting. My dad also seems to think so.

But... I'm not quite sure. Sure, this could be nesting, but this also feels suspiciously like an ataxophobic panic attack after weeks of building anxiety (or is it weeks of building nesting instinct?). I want things to be tidy and clean and in order, but... I just... am having a hard time doing it.

Well, I got a few gifts for Pterodactyl this week, including TONS of hand-me-down clothing. I had already known that I didn't yet have a place set aside to put the baby things (my sister is living in the place we were going to put stuff), but I didn't realize that having a ginormous pile of stuff that didn't have a "home" would affect me so badly. I got overwhelmed and I ignored the pile for a few days. Then I built up the courage to take things out of boxes and... now there were two piles. Piles of packaging and piles of things that needed to be put away. For some reason I couldn't deal with it and left the piles.

Yesterday I broke into tears about it--think panic attack tears. It definitely hadn't helped that while James has been gone this week, I've been just as weak and energy-less as has been typical throughout pregnancy--and when I feel like that I tend to leave things lying around because I'm just so tired. So it's messy AND there are a million items out and about to stab your retinas.

Once I was panicky, my vision seemed to get distorted and magnified the presence of clutter, perhaps because I was desperate to find a place to put stuff. And then I had the following horrible feeling: I need stuff to put things in. I need drawers for baby clothes. I need a filing cabinet. I need more kitchen shelves for all the food sprawled all over the floor. I need... and I don't have money to buy any furniture.

And perhaps since I was already uber-bothered, the eccentricity of the clutter started eating at me. The busy pattern on the couch that completely clashed with the living room ate at my frontal lobe until the realization that I couldn't afford a slipcover for the sofa also began torturing me. And the rug in the bathroom doesn't match the rest of the room. The microwave doesn't match the rest of the kitchen. Yeah, it wasn't so good... especially because all these things I was now noticing (unlike the messiness) were things I was unable to change, at least at the present time.

I ended up freaking out a little more (both to myself and to James on the phone) before I did the smart thing and starting praying for comfort and such. It was then that I had an epiphany... and now it seems so obvious. Instead of getting more stuff to contain all the stuff I have, why don't I get rid of stuff until it's all contained?

Now, I couldn't bring myself to go outside in the heat, but I at least started stuffing things in trash bags. I got into my closet and asked myself: "When is the last time I used this?" Too many of my clothes elicited this response: "I hate every thread in this shirt. I use it only when I should have done laundry two months ago." Ah. Well, that shirt should clearly go to charity.

I came across my hat collection. It pained me, but I hadn't touched it in over a year. I barely touched it the year before that. ... Charity.

I came across several gifts I had always hated (but have kept because I'd feel guilty for tossing it... does everyone do this?)... Charity (or trash). I decided to keep only the following for sentimental value: wedding stuff and old letters. Oh, and a hand turkey that James made. I glued that in my journal at least, so it wasn't wandering free. Oh, and a gaudy picture frame I'd always hated? Epiphany! Paint it black and it'd go very well with the other picture frames in the living room. Genius.

Last night I got lots of stuff into trash bags or charity bags, but I didn't actually succeed in cleaning or actually clearing away any of the clutter. I felt better, though, perhaps because in my heart I knew all I really had to do was move lots of it to the dumpster or to the trunk of my car.

Today I cleaned the shower. Look at it in wonder. Ooooo, aaaaaaah... Okay, we're done. I'm exhausted from the effort, although I actually kind of enjoyed it. It's been hot for the last few days and we don't have air conditioning, so my nausea has been pretty bad. I really enjoyed the cold, cold water for a few hours. Refreshing. (Yes, the picture isn't properly focused, but I don't actually know how to work a camera...)

Well, if this IS nesting, then at least my apartment is benefiting from the madness.

Death to soap scum,
Jenna and Pterodactyl

P.S. Pterodactyl is doing well, and continues to grow. She's the right size, but I'm not growing that much. I didn't gain ANY weight in the last three weeks. I definitely need to try harder to swallow down food, aye? This nausea is making it hard. I'm having a hard time cooking lately, so any edible culinary donations are welcome. ;)

P.P.S. I'm not going to clean your apartment too. Edit: Except maybe if you pay me. See, I do REALLY want a sofa slipcover...

31W6D

Today is a momentous occasion. James and I purchased diapers. Actual diapers! For the very first time! As James said, "This s*** just got real." (Yes, he said it just like that. With the asterisks. He's skilled like that.) Yay, puns!

We had a Costco coupon for diapers and figured we should use it, because we are going to need them. And, if the rumors are true, we will be needing lots of them. We got a box of the tiny diapers and a box of the next size up. We figure that, unless Pterodactyl is a BEAST, we'll need to get more tiny diapers before moving up to the next size, but... maybe Pterodactyl will be a beast. (My woman parts sure hope not.)

Oh! Exciting news! I am typing this from the shiny, gorgeous Chromebox Ben (James' brother and computer programmer extraordinaire) sent us. Ben is super nice and super awesome and sent it to us because he purportedly gets cool stuff he doesn't need at programming conferences. (Cool stuff one doesn't need? What is this ye speak of?) I suppose we should also sing Liliana's praises for taking time out of her day to mail it to us. Thanks, familia!

Now, we were pretty surprised at how much we like this Chromebox thing. Once James got the monitor to work, he commenced a symphony of oos. "Oo! That was a quick boot-up time!" Four seconds, baby. "Oo!" "Oo!" "Oo!" Sure, all the Chromebox does is Internet, but let's be honest... You can do almost anything on the Internet nowadays. A notable exception, of course, is Starcraft II and Diablo III... Sorry to remind you, James.

The fate of the old laptop is uncertain. It continues to balance waveringly on a cusp between almost-could-be-maybe-slightly-useful and useless. Some days it makes interesting noises which sound like a stream of sand funneling through a swiftly rotating fan. Some days it won't boot up without thinking, "Huh. I think something is wrong with the hard drive. I should run diagnostics!" On the other hand, there are also some days that you can use it almost normally, provided you don't mind waiting 5-20 minutes for a program to load. We're not quite sure when the appropriate time is to take the poor guy out to the dumpster.

So. Pregnancy continues to be... interesting. I do believe that my midsection has finally grown out past my chest, but sometimes I'm not sure. I'm terrified, people. I think I'm going to be stuck with porn boobs* when this is all over. I mean, seriously, I would really prefer not having to go to a specialty store just to find one bra that fits. I enjoy finding cool zebra-print bras for under $10. I really do.

I had a roommate in college who faced this predicament without pregnancy. Dear lady: I officially apologize for every time I thought, "Sure, it's inconvenient, but surely it's not that bad." If you do ever decide to get a breast reduction, I will gladly donate at least $5 to the cause.

You may be interested to know that I'm getting $50 this week to be a model and get my picture taken. Women's Care (where I work) is redesigning their website and hired a photographer to get photos of warm, friendly, comfortable patient-practitioner interaction. And they decided a picture of a pregnant lady getting an ultrasound was absolutely necessary. Guess which employee is mighty good-looking and pregnant? Me! I think it's a pretty sweet deal.

Lest you demand to see the picture immediately, I should warn you that the new website may take months and months to actually materialize. I'll let you know when I finally make my debut as pregnant supermodel extraordinaire.

Pterodactyl is wiggly. I think she had hiccups this morning. She is definitely getting bigger, and thusly, those little kicks are becoming more noticeable. Sometimes, a particularly well-placed punch will wake me up out of a deep slumber. Those'uns are painful. However, these are few and far between. More often, I don't even notice that she's moving unless I deliberately sit still and concentrate. That's when I feel like she's fingerpainting the inside of my uterus. It feels like something is sliding around on the walls. Back and forth, back and forth. Very gently. Delicately.

James is leaving for a math conference tomorrow. It will last for two entire weeks. This makes me a little sad, of course. What am I going to do without a servant to do all my bidding? Eat more microwave meals and do less laundry, that's what. Also I should socialize and stuff.

Anyway, love and Costco berry smoothie**,
Jenna and Pterodactyl

---
* I discovered this phrase when one of our more colorful patients used it. She predicts that as soon as I deliver, I will no longer have an ounce of nausea and will be left with only a newborn and porn boobs. She also predicts that I will forget the months and months of nausea I've experienced and immediately announce a desire to have ten more pregnancies. I am somewhat worried that she will be accurate on all accounts.
** While we were at Costco today, one of the employees told me "the baby probably would like a berry smoothie, 'cuz it's gluten-free!" ... Wait, what?

31W0D: Computer Troubles

Pterodactyl is still doing okay as far as we can tell. She is also still in my uterus, right where she belongs. I think I'd rather lug her around for a few more months instead of having to visit in the NICU. Plus, a room in Hotel Uterus is free; a room in Hotel NICU is definitely not free.

I guess the biggest news is that our laptop had a stroke last night. (I am using sister's computer.) We have all our stuff backed up on an external hard drive and/or Dropbox, so ye need not worry about that. The main problem is our consequent computerlessness. James does need a computer to do schoolwork.

As many of you are aware, James has been pining away for a gaming* computer for ages... and not just any gaming computer, a good gaming computer. One that can run all the latest and greatest games, and will likely also be able to run the latest and greatest in the next three or four years.

I suppose that some of my audience might not realize this means spending $1,500-$2,000. I assure you--for a good gaming computer, this is reasonable. That price range, however, most likely wouldn't be enough to buy a best gaming computer. It really is just enough for a good one. If you're not a gamer and you don't believe me... this is not the place to convince you.

Several months ago, we had saved up almost enough money for the computer and had actually bought a few  components (monitor, mouse, keyboard, and case) when disaster strikes in the form of... dun dun DUN! Root canal: $1,500. Bye-bye budget. Poor James not only had to endure the pain of a root canal, but the loss of an expected computer as well. 

We have been entering all the computer sweepstakes ever, you know, just in case God is as desperate to bless us with a gaming computer as James is to get one. We figure it can't hurt, even if the odds are most certainly against us. Waaaay against us.

Well, guess what. Dooooooooommm! Our laptop died today. It was functional last night and only slightly sluggish, as can be expected from a laptop its age. This morning, however, was a whole 'nother story. Sudden dementia. We undid our most recent Windows update, to no avail. We uninstalled something we installed last night, also to no avail. And then we ran all the exciting diagnostics and discovered a hard drive problem, which means this computer is on its deathbed.

Good news! There is, apparently, some hope for our checking account. Ben, James' super awesome brother who is a super awesome programmer, apparently sometimes gets free stuff from programming conference-type events. He may be able to send us a Chromebook that might possibly run LaTeX (a math program which James, as a math Ph.D. student, understandably needs). So if Ben can somehow hack the Chromebook to run LaTeX, we may be compelled to admit that he is a miracle worker and give him... oh, I don't know. The baby teeth of our firstborn child? ... Gross.

I've also discovered that James keeps his composure a lot better when he is not allowed to control the mouse/keyboard of a dying computer. If he is... this, in a nutshell, is what happens:

James: *click*

Computer: *no response, considers unicorns*

James: *click click click click click click*

Computer: *stays frozen, gets confused, thinks about rainbows*

James: AAARRRRRGGGHHH!!! *CLICK CLICK CLICK CLICK CLICK CLICK* *forehead vein throbs* My life is HORRRIBBLE! *CLICK CLICK* *scream*

Computer: *finally opens whatever James was trying to open in the first place, then freezes again to try and process the last five thousand mouse clicks received, contemplates mold*

James: *tantrum* *presses lots of buttons*

Now, when he is not in control, he still gets sad and upset, but he isn't on the cusp of destroying any furniture or snapping at his lovely wife for no good reason. I think I shall establish a new rule in my household: when a computer is misbehaving, James must relinquish control. Yes. I think this is a wise precaution.

Well. I guess we'll see how long it takes in real life for us to get a gaming computer.

Love and heartburn,

Jenna and Pterodactyl (and a very sad James)

-------

*I want to make one thing extremely clear. James' love of video games does not bother me one iota. People assume his gaming would make me unhappy. Yes, James is (or was when the computer let him play) a Platinum League player in Starcraft II; this does not mean he ignores me or devotes too much time to video games. (That's like assuming an decent athlete neglects other responsibilities in order to improve his or her skills.) Yes, James is a gamer. James does not neglect his wife, or his graduate studies, or his church responsibilities, or anything else important. James plays games in his honest-to-goodness, never-in-excess free time. Now stop feeling sorry for James' wife.

29W6D: Acupoked!

I suppose I shall begin with the latest on Pterodactyl. ... There is no latest, except that she continues to move and squirm and I think she is bigger. I suppose it's news that not only COULD she survive if I gave birth right now, she probably would. Huh. Don't get me wrong, I'd prefer that Pterodactyl stay put for now. More mature lungs and additional baby fat are both pluses which are best obtained by an extended stay in Hotel Uterus.

Oh! Unexpected blessing of monetary nature! Apparently I magically got 60 more hours of paid vacation time, all of which I am forced to use this month during my extended medical leave. All right, all right, if you twist my arm, I will accept your money, fine... Seriously though. This means I can buy maternity pants! AND not starve in the next two months! WOO!

Anyway. I promised to share my acupuncture experience with you. I had an "evaluation" scheduled on Thursday. I ended up getting there early because I walked from another appointment and it wasn't worth going home and then travelling back to the same area. Because I was so early, I got to fill out all the paperwork that I otherwise would have done during the appointment (maybe hippies don't usually show up early for acupuncture?), so there was time for acupoking!

But first, the evaluation. 'Twas interesting. The acupuncturist pushed on both sides of each of my vertebrae and had me tell him which of them were tender. It was weird for me, I guess, since I have a lot of scar tissue there. I think that might be why he did it. It seemed to me like they were tender at random... either that or they were devoid of feeling at random. Whichever.

The next part was fun. I had to stick out my tongue and he looked at it. Apparently, acupuncturists can tell... something... from the color and shape of your tongue. I did ask, but I forgot because he said something about how it told him about fluids in the body and this sort of thing is pretty unfamiliar to me. (The Internet is a helpful resource and it refreshed my memory.) My tongue was pale and thickly coated... so apparently, according to the all-knowing Internet, I was dying. (He didn't tell me that.) But to be honest, I felt like it. I was SO stinking sick that morning.

He also felt my pulse. He showed me a diagram kind of like the one on this page, but I was pretty sick and wasn't really as interested in explanations as I would normally be.

And, of course, he went over everything I had written in the form I'd filled out. He was also fascinated by the ginormous bag of banana chips I had brought with me. ... I think to him I will always be Banana Chip Girl.

And now for the acupoking! I suppose I should clarify that the particular acupuncturist I saw practiced Japanese acupuncture, rather than the slightly more common Chinese variety. The Japanese kind is different mostly in two regards: first, fewer needles are used, and second, the placement of the needles is determined by touch instead of just visual guesstimating.

So--I was acupoked in seven places. One in a nausea point in each thigh, one in each wrist, one in each ear, and one more in the center of the back of my head. Acupuncture points are supposed to be located at strategic points around your nervous and circulatory system. Getting acupoked in one of these spots is supposed to improve blood and energy flow to that area and nourish starving/thirsty cells. The acupuncturist's analogy was straightening out a kinked water hose in a garden.

Here's my experience. He had me lie in a recliner (which he got out special for me since I was pregnant) and then he got out his super tiny needles. They looked more like... metal hairs... than what I would typically imagine at the word "needle". They were 0.14 mm thick.

Before the poking, I was feeling AWFUL. My head felt drained of blood, and I felt like I could pass out at any time. If you've ever been close to fainting, you'll know what I felt like. I felt very nauseous and was using a considerable amount of energy convincing myself not to vomit.

First needle--left ear. I felt some pressure, but more pleasantly, I could feel blood rushing back to my head. That felt wonderful. Second needle--right ear. That one was surprisingly painful (still only a minor discomfort), considering the painlessness of the left side, but I didn't care about that since even more blood rushed to my head. My thought: huh... I'm becoming suddenly lucid again. I had been thinking through mud and was now thinking through Sprite!

Third needle--left calf. Didn't feel it at all. Fourth needle--right calf. Felt that one... like a mosquito bite. Fifth needle--right wrist. This one also didn't feel very good. It stung for some reason. Sixth needle--left wrist. Couldn't feel it. The seventh and final needle--right in the back of my head on my crown. This one also stung a little, but like the ones in my ears, my head felt GREAT after the poke. Blood flow, glorious blood flow (think FOOD, GLORIOUS FOOD)! Then he left me alone for about ten minutes. By the time he came back, I wasn't nauseous. How peculiar.

I was thoughtful while sitting there during the alone time. To be completely honest, I was suspicious of myself whenever I thought I was feeling any improvement. I thought, "Really, self? Do you think it's the acupoking or the placebo effect?" "I don't know, self. But I'll take it. Studies say this is helpful, so maybe it is..." "Yeah, well, I don't think it's possible to design a double blind study of the effectiveness of acupuncture." "Oh. Well, this feels nice. Let's do it again." "... Fine. For science." "For fluffy, pink clouds and rainbows." "That too."

Moxibustion time. When the acupuncturist came back he burned some mugwort herb to fluff, and then took this cigar-shaped thing and kinda wiped the burned-up herb fluff onto the end of it. Then he kinda went all wizardy and wielded the thing like a wand, passing it back and forth about an inch over the skin where the acupoke needles were in each calf. That thing must have been super hot because I could feel the heat pretty intensely. I don't know what the herb was for, but I would guess at least part of the point was to increase blood flow right there.

The needle on my left ear decided it was done and fell out, but perhaps it just knew the acupunturist was done. He started taking the others out. Left ear needle must have eloped with some girl or something, because we couldn't find him.

After I left, I began feeling nauseous again within half an hour, but I at least didn't feel so woozy. That's a plus. Also... (and I don't know if this is a coincidence or not) my sleep that night was the most deep, restful, wonderful sleep I'd had in MONTHS. The next night was almost just as good, as well. And maybe I'm going crazy, but I think my tongue is pinker and much more thinly coated all of a sudden. In any case, the last few days I've felt pretty good!

Well, I'm supposed to go back seven more times--ideally, twice a week. I decided to do so, although I couldn't always quite get in two each week. Not gonna lie, I'm pretty excited. ... Also, I must be turning into a hippie. I think I'm okay with this.

Love and blood flow,
Jenna and Pterodactyl

29W3D

I'm doing better in some ways. I think I'm coming down with some freakish, bizarre (okay, probably pretty run-o'-the-mill) illness. I have a nasty sore, raw throat. Today I am also pretty queasy and lightheaded.

I'm better enough that I can do most activities normally now--most things, that is, except my actual job. (Not even fair.) The building I work in has some air flow/circulation problems. So, as the weather gets warmer... the patient exam rooms become personalized torture chambers. Dr. Austin put in a few fans to blow on me, and that's helped. That solution, however, will not work in his office where he does 60-90 minute consultations... you know, the visits where I am MOST useful.

Even after a long stretch of freedom from nausea, as soon as I am holed up in that office for longer than ten minutes--the lightheadedness, queasiness, and dizziness starts up. This is pretty frustrating. See, I feel well enough to do my job--except when I'm doing my job. How is a girl supposed to make money?!

On the plus side, the scribe-in-training Kellie is starting full-time on Monday, so I definitely don't have to feel like I'm completely letting everyone down every time I call in sick. Also--surprise! The woman who trained me to be a scribe is in Eugene and can fill in for one or two days each week. She is currently in school to become a nurse midwife, but the summer workload is light and she wouldn't mind a few extra dollars. So yeah... I feel more like... a training resource. That's okay. I'm not planning to be working for much longer anyway, right? ... Sigh. I really hope I don't end up feeling uncomfortably useless.

My main dilemma, then, is that I am healthy and well enough to desire an activity to occupy my mind and body... but I'm not quite well enough to do much. Simply put... I'm BORED out of my mind. Take this morning, for instance.

I was too lightheaded to sit up, so I wasn't able to go to work and scribe. I tried to read a book, but I wasn't quite well enough to concentrate on it. There wasn't a computer around, so I couldn't really watch anything. I wasn't quite strong enough to carry a load of laundry to the washing machine. I felt very unwell when sitting up or standing, so cleaning my apartment seemed out of the question. And the list of futile desires continues.

Any suggestions for me should this situation present itself again? I have a feeling it will become a summer motif. I don't think it's doing good things for my mental state, but I'm reasonably confident I haven't fallen into a depressive relapse yet.

Anyway, tomorrow I am going to an acupuncture "evaluation". I mentioned on Facebook that I've decided to try it, since it's not going to cost me a cent (thank you, insurance company... bahaha!). And many of the doctors I've talked to encouraged me to try it. When I bring up the subject, their reaction seems to consist of the following thoughts--"Oh yeah, people do that don't they? I forgot about that. But it's totally safe and many of patients found it helpful. Yeah. And if it doesn't help, no harm done. No risk to you or to the baby! Good idea. You should try it!"

It is my impression that the "evaluation" tomorrow does not involve any actual acupoking. (My brother-in-law calls it acupunking. I liked this made-up word, but decided that acupoking suits my narrative style better.) I think the point is to get a pretty comprehensive picture of your overall health and sit down and explain/develop a treatment plan with you that focuses on your main concerns. I anticipate that I will be fascinated... if not during the evaluation, then during the actual acupoking. I also got the impression that many of you will be interested to see what I write about acupuncture. Yes, I am planning to document the experience on my blog. Hopefully neither you nor I will be disappointed.

My thoughts turn to pants. Here are my thoughts on pants: AARRRGGGGHHHhhhhh! Somebody please explain to me WHY it is unacceptable--even when you're pregnant--to walk around pantsless! Surely it's not that unreasonable... I mean, if it is perfectly acceptable to whip out a boob to feed your baby, why isn't it okay to go to the grocery store ginormous and wearing only a ginormous T-shirt?

Hum. To a more appropriate subject--baby names! We are leaning 80% towards Amelia Rose right now. To be honest, this name just popped in my head like an epiphany a few days ago. I am slightly cautious about glomming onto it so quickly, so I will remain reserved about it for now. I do like the variety of nicknames available--Milly, Amy, Lia, Mia, Mel... Surely one of those is acceptably cool, right? (As a bonus, we get nerd points. That's two of the Doctor's companions right there.)

Pterodactyl does seem to be doing well. She is squirmy, but I'm coming to realize that the majority of her movements are gentle and soft. It is difficult for James to feel her move, because she doesn't often do anything drastic. Sometimes she barrel rolls. That is by FAR the weirdest sensation I've felt yet.

I'll close with a confession. While feeling Pterodactyl squirm is enjoyable, I think my very favoritest part of pregnancy is the lifting of social food rules. It's my dream come true! I am totally ALLOWED to pick at the food before everyone else at social functions. AND I can butt to the front of the line if I want. AND I can call dibs on any precious last bits of food. This, my friends, is the best thing ever.

Love and carrots,
Jenna and Pterodactyl

28W5D

I know I haven't written in roughly two weeks, but honestly, I don't feel like there's much to update. I'm still pregnant! Yeah. I'm officially in the third trimester now, so I now have appointments every two weeks. I also have a pre-labor anesthesia consultation set up, just in case. Hum.

My mom's visiting teacher made a blessing dress for Pterodactyl. It is cute. My dad wants me to post a picture of it, so I suppose I will. See? Cute.

I am still sick fairly often. I think, though, that my good days are getting better, even if the bad days are still bad. Blorgh.

My belly is getting bigger. It is conceivable that my belly button will pop out in turkey timer fashion within the next week or two.

I finally started a real journal. This may come as a shock to some, but I've been horrible about journaling in the past. I think it's partly because I didn't want posterity to read whatever I wrote. I'm not sure why I felt that.

It's also because I spend a lot of time thinking, so it's impossible to record every thought worth recording. All journal entry attempts from the past have always seemed so... inadequate.

They still feel rather inadequate. However, I think I can at least hold myself to writing down a few lines about the events of the day, because James writes a few lines in his journal every night. (Great reminder, right?) Perhaps posterity will be interested in those few daily lines, though I'm not sure what would be so interesting about the following: "Went to work for a few hours today. Got sick, came home. Slept. Got sick again. Watched The Legend of Korra and Star Trek: Deep Space Nine with James. Then got ready for bed." That was essentially the gist of yesterday's entry.

I'm reasonably confident that this attempt at keeping a regular journal will be successful (despite only failed attempts in the past) because I have finally been able to read scriptures nearly every night for a few months. Or, when I fall asleep early in the day and don't wake up until morning, I make up for missed reading in the morning. So basically, success!

(I've been working on establishing this habit for the better part of the last decade, with limited success. There's been one time before when I was almost as successful as I am now in reading every night. I had prayed for guidance in finding a way to remember to read every night. My answer was to get a plant, and water it only on days when I read my scriptures. I distinctly remember this command popping up in my mind: DON'T KILL THE PLANT. So, I kept Jeffrey the Plant alive for quite a while until I left for Christmas break. I left Jeffrey behind under the care of my home teacher. My home teacher killed the plant. Sad. It was interesting to have that plant though... whenever I saw it wilting, I was shocked to discover my soul was wilting too--I was depressed, overwhelmed, tired, apathetic, etc. And when it was vibrant and alive, well, so was I.)

So yes. Journaling. I bought glue sticks so I could print out blog posts and include them in my journal. This will be the first glue stick entry! Ta-da! Be proud.

Jenna and Pterodactyl

P.S. Introducing print-friendly blog posts! Also ta-daa! :)

26W6D

I only got to work for two days this week. It was a little disappointing. But anyway, my hours have been officially reduced. I now only work Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays, starting at 9am instead of 7am. Our poor checking account finds this abominable. I think that (besides the lost income) this is a good change; it just doesn't feel good. It makes me feel like I've somehow given up even though that isn't actually true.

This last month I haven't gained any weight. At my checkup yesterday though, they weren't worried (yet) because my uterus is actually still growing and Pterodactyl is wiggly and has a good heartbeat. I'm surprising myself my how anxious this is making me. While I am reassured that Pterodactyl is perfectly healthy, I am NOT reassured that I am perfectly healthy. I am not well and I haven't been able to keep down my thyroid or antidepressant medication for several days. My entire digestive system seems to be on strike. I think I am getting smaller even though Pterodactyl is getting bigger.

I vaguely recall having eaten SOMETHING yesterday, but it really wasn't enough. I ate some... er. I don't remember. I think it was an assortment of small items throughout the day, many of which made me sick to my stomach.

My little sister Rebecca is living with us now! Beeker is even sitting next to me right now. It's been exciting. Beeker, like me, has been struggling with anxiety, so it's interesting to see someone else get nervous about riding the bus and finding/filling out job applications.

I think we are going to Toys'R'Us / Babies'R'Us today to start building a registry. I would have done it online, but I have a coupon that says we get a $10 gift card if we do it in the store instead of on the Internets. And since we are poor enough that a $10 gift card sounds sweet... to the actual location it is! I'm sure we'll find some exciting toy for James and I Pterodactyl. Yeah. That's the plan, it is.

I got a maternity pillow yesterday! It is comfy. I think it was worth it. It is ginormicous.

On a reminiscent note, when James and I were in Pennsylvania, his best friend John gave us all the bajillion million photos he took of our wedding day. None of the photos were edited, but there were lots. Our impression of the photos is that he never, ever took his finger off the take-picture-button. (Does that have an official name?) So I'm tempted to post all five hundred bajillion of them even though there are already plenty of similar pictures, because if you click through them fast enough, it's almost like watching a video of the entire day. He also got a video of our "first" dance, as you can see below.

My friend Ryan also sent us a folder of (substantially fewer) photos from that day as well as a video of the bouquet toss. I suppose I could also post that one, but I think the most important information I gathered from that one included 1) Miriam (James' little sister) was simply destined to have that bouquet... no matter how I threw it, it ended up at her feet or in her hands, and 2) Rachelle distinctly says, "No, I'm already married!" in an attempt to get out of trying to catch the bouquet... Dear Rachelle, why have you been holding out on me? We and our husbands could have been have been having so many married people adventures!

Ta-ta for now,
Jenna and Pterodactyl and ex-breakfast