One more restful night?

10:54 p.m. and all is quiet on Savannah Lane.

That's something you won't read many more times this year. The alarm will ring in roughly six and a half hours for a return trip to St. Joe's. And we ain't comin' home without babies this time.

Have you ever seen somebody try to sleep fast? I'm not sure how it's done, but Sonja is doing her best to figure it out.

We'll have updates and photos posted ASAP.

The End is Near!

I had my weekly check-up today and finally got the news I've been waiting to hear. My induction date has been moved up! Our family could have two new additions by Monday, April 14, though I'm still hoping to go before that. I'm into my 36th week and more than ready. I have progressed a bit since my last check-up and the doctor did a quick procedure that may help labor come on naturally (I'll spare you the details). We all know it's ultimately up to the little ones. If our history with bad weather has any bearing on the outcome, we are expecting snow on Sunday...

As for Zoe, she's still keeping my mom jumping. Monday, we took her to Timbertown. We had a picnic lunch and then Mom and Zoe played. It felt great to be outside, even though I couldn't join in the fun. Zoe wore the 'Big Sister of Twins' shirt that Rich bought her. She's quite proud when she wears it.

She's looking too darn old these days!

That's all for now.

Take care!

35 Weeks and Counting

We've made it past 35 weeks and had a doctor's appointment and an ultrasound since the last post. At my last check, there was no significant change. It looks like brother and sister are, again, content in their cramped quarters.

Today we had an ultrasound. The babies are estimated to be 5 lbs. 11 oz. each, but there is up to one-pound margin of error. Hopefully they are more than less and we won't be needing those preemie clothes long at all!

Here's a picture of my 35-week belly, taken a few days ago. My mom says pictures don't do my girth justice, but consider more than 11 pounds of baby and "stuff" hanging out on my 5' 4" frame and you'll get the idea.


Zoe has been patiently waiting for brother and sister. We're trying to keep her routine as normal as possible, despite the fact that I can't do much for her. She's adjusting to bedtime cuddles and books in Mommy and Daddy's bed rather than in her bedroom and she fully expects me to be sitting in the same chair whenever she arrives home from daycare. She enjoys her new jobs of waking me up every morning and bringing me my socks and sweatpants, picking up whatever I clumsily drop and setting the table for dinner. She says when she grows up, she's going to be a helper!

Other things haven't changed so much. She still loves doing her art projects. Earlier today, Zoe used every kind of paint and marker she had on every kind of paper. When she lost interest in that, she found some new canvas...

As I type this, Honey and Zoe recently returned from a walk and are getting ready to make muffins. The twins are curled up tightly, taking a snooze. It's been a good day.

A SAD DAY AMID THE JOY

We're all on the floor. Crying. Me and a nine-month pregnant woman and a veterinarian. Sounds like the intro to a joke... but trust me, there is no punch line.

Today was a sad day mixed into our little world that has been, and continues to be, so full of joy and anticipation. Very sad.

We'd hoped that Wheatley would be able to meet Zoe. We hoped a lot of different things would get better. Everything we wanted from him was for us. Today we did something for him.

The good doctor in Commerce Township insisted she was strong enough to help us. And she was. I'm not sure I could ever repay the favor. Sure, she cried along with us, but that was somehow more comforting than the alternative.

It'll sure be strange around here without him. For the first time in 12 years I walked into the kitchen without a shadow. Who will pick up sticks when I mow the lawn?

Of course, at some point over the last seven years, the "Wheatley's Favorite Human" title slipped from my grasp. That crown and sash belonged to Sonja. She deserved it.

So long, Wheat J. You were a good boy.

APRIL SHOWERS

April showers bring... LOTS of baby stuff.

Thanks to the overwhelming generosity of family and friends, our unborn child has a larger wardrobe than her daddy and what is seemingly enough "stuff" to start a daycare center. I'll admit, it overwhelms me. But Sonja says we'll need every bit of it, so I just keep hauling boxes to various designated storage areas around the house and sort everything, as instructed, into age-appropriate piles.

Zoe's first shower was held Sunday, April 2 at the home of Sonja's sister, Shane, (photo above) in Newaygo. Shortly after, Sonja's co-workers hosted the second. This weekend we'll be in Bay City for the finale. In between, boxes just keep showing up in the carport while we're at work. Who knows how many Crazy Pacing Guy across the street (long story... though not nearly as long as Crazy Light People next door to him) has in his living room?

I wasn't able to attend either of the first two showers, but Sonja had some good stories to share. She continues to learn how her body is reacting to the pregnancy. She's perplexed that she can do something as simple - and enjoyable - as sit in a chair and open gifts and end up feeling like she just ran a marathon.

Later, she realized it has affected her emotions as well. At the end of the Newaygo shower, Sonja wanted to thank her sisters (Shawn and Shane were co-hostesses) for their efforts. She wanted to express how much it meant to be surrounded by people she loves. She wanted to tell family and friends she isn't able to see often enough how great it was to do so. "I had a lot heartfelt things to say," she told me. "But as soon as I opened my mouth, nothing came out and I started crying."

I learned in Communications 101 that not talking, or in this case not being able to talk, still sends a message. Allow me to translate to all of those that were in Newaygo, contributed to the work party, will join us in Bay City, or have otherwise helped us prepare our home for Zoe's arrival: Thank you, thank you, thank you. We love you.

I'LL THINK OF SOMETHING...

I take my new role as Zoe's ghost blogger very seriously.

I applaud the White House's recent decision to grant press credentials to a political blogger. And I'll hunger strike until the First Amendment right that allows professional journalists to protect unidentified sources is granted to all of my blogger brethren.

Having said so... I guess I should update this silly thing once in a while.

Chitowndan (also known as Uncle Dan in some circles) asked in the comment section of the previous post if more updates were forthcoming. My co-worker Phil (family members will remember him as the tall fellow in our wedding party) was more pointed: "Dude, why did I bookmark this thing if it's never going to change?" He didn't really use the word dude. I just thought it added a certain panache.

Here's the bottom line: There ain't much going on.

Once Zoe is born, this site is going to be jam packed with sentiment and hilarity. Seriously. You'll need a box of tissues to wipe away tears and you'll leave with aching abdominal muscles from side-splitting laughter. We're talking Ray Kinsella asking his dad to "have a catch" near the mound while Carl Spackler whacks at gophers in the outfield.

For now, the most interesting thing happening in our little yellow cottage is the transformation of the nursery. That picture you passed on your way to this point isn't a big top. It's Zoe's first room.

We saw a striped room in a movie and thought it was a great idea. So I busted out the laser level I never thought I'd have a use for, a couple rolls of tape and got to work. We really like how it turned out. Visitors seem to concur.

Picking out furniture was next and there has never been a decision made that took more time or energy. By anyone. About anything. In the history of civilization. In the end, a convertible crib and matching dresser and armoir in "natural" won out over every other conceivable piece of furniture.

Thanks are extended to my folks for helping out with the furniture. And mom's also warming up her sewing machine because Sonja couldn't find a crib set that struck her fancy. She's gonna be one good Busia.

There's lots of other little things: A carpet remnant binded into a perfect-fitting area rug that still shows off a little of the hardwood floors we like so much. A new overhead light and dimmer switch that will go in this weekend. Etc., etc., etc.

It's a good thing Zoe won't be able to talk for a while. That way she can keep her opinions about the room to herself.

58 DAYS... ZOE WILLING

Tonight it became real.

The ultrasound was thrilling. Painting the nursery was exponentially more satisfying than the dozens of do-it-yourself projects that preceeded it. Sitting on the couch and watching a lamaze class together on DVD was simultaneously educational and hilarious. Walking in to a room and finding a wide-eyed Sonja staring at her bare, twitching stomach is beyond description.

Tonight's hospital visit and "birthing center" tour was, well... real.

We're at 58 days and counting. 1,392 hours. 83,520 minutes.

Things really have been going tremendously smooth so far, and for that we're eternally grateful. Sonja now has the bedtime of a 9-year-old and occassionally struggles with her socks (a guilty comedic pleasure of mine), but has been happy, healthy and relatively unaffected. Sure, there are a few random bursts of temper. Take, for example, Saturday's trip to Babies R' Us. Two hours into the mission, with several pre-determined registery items still undiscovered, she reached her frustration limit, threw her arms up and yelled, to nobody in particular, "Where are the f#*%ing Boppies?" This, of course, had me doubled over in laughter in the nipple aisle. Ahhh. Good times.

83,518 minutes...

As mentioned earlier, we're attending our lamaze class via DVD. This method was chosen mainly because we're both anti-social hermits that couldn't bear the thought of the annoying, know-it-all couple in the front row dominating conversation and offering more unsolicited information than even a grizzled delivery room nurse could stomach. Under our scenario, if we miss something, we simply hit "Rewind." If questions persist, Sonja jots them down and brings them up at her next doctor visit. Beautiful.

83,516 minutes...

So maybe those aren't the stories to share to prove we're fully prepared to become parents. But we are pretty damn excited about it. We just wanted to take this opportunity to give our friends and family an update, a laugh and create a place where we can continue to post such things. Check back frequently.

83,514 minutes...

A bit of back-tracking: Hey! Did we tell you we picked a name? It's Zoe! No crazy dots above the E, please.

Finally: You can inexplicably find a Boppy near the bibs.

Until we meet again...