It was bound to happen. In my case it is later rather than sooner (thankfully...) As my doctor wrote in the note for my employer, "Paige is experiencing a complication of pregnancy that requires bedrest for the remainder of her pregnancy." Toxemia. A wicked disease for which the only cure is delivery of a baby. In the meatime, it's Game Over. Do not pass go, do not collect $200. Go straight home, lay on your left side, and do not attempt any activity that will elevate your blood pressure. To-do lists, loose ends and plans be damned. This is so not fun, but it could be worse. MUCH worse. To wit: I could be 26 weeks along, instead of 36 weeks. I could be situated in a job without flexibility, benefits, an understanding boss, and technological resources for telecommuting from home. I could be alone, without a loving and doting baby-daddy to cart me to my "social outings" (i.e. weekly prenatal visits) and keep me company. I could have had a challenging pregnancy fro
It's been exactly two months since Peegie and I got the biggest surprise of our lives. On or about December 29th of this year, "we" will become "three" when we welcome a child into our lives. It's a good reason to (finally) figure out the scanner feature on the printer in my office. I'm a little slow on the technology curve. Clever, but slow. Here is a picture of the wee tot we are calling "Ziggy" (a term of endearment for Zygote...) Baby looks shy in this photograph but, then again, the poor dear had to endure an hour-long torrent of ultrasound waves that day.
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