Viability, Etc.

*Sporadic p-word talk*

Today marks 24 weeks aka "the point of viability". Our baby boy, if born today, would have a 50% chance of surviving. I'm not a gambler but I know enough not to bet the farm on those odds. I pray he stays put for another 13+ weeks. Each additional day in the womb gives us a better chance. But it is a small relief to know that he has a chance, slim as it is, if disaster should strike. My next "mini-milestone" is 28 weeks, when his chances increase to over 90%. One month. I know we can do it. I have to believe we can make it.

After two quiet days, Sunshine is back to his old antics. I think I heard the faint noise of a Sweatin' to the Oldies tape in my uterus this morning because he sure was doing his aerobics. It didn't help that DH's phone rang at 5am to the tune of Margaritaville. Sunshine must be a Jimmy Buffet fan like his daddy. He was grooving up a storm in there, making it impossible to fall back asleep. As much as I adore my sleep, I could never complain about staying up for something as precious as that.

I am quite proud of myself for making another big step this week. I scheduled our birth and breastfeeding classes. Booked for May 31-June 1 and June 11, respectively. It's hard to imagine a live baby coming out of me and clutching my breast. I feel his kicks and logically, I know he is in there and will have to come out somehow, someway. But I'm still not prepared for the moment of meeting him for the first time. It seems like a distant dream, as if I'm a naive girl with my head in the clouds, dreaming about Prince Charming. I keep hoping that with each mini-milestone we reach, that it will just hit me out of nowhere like a ton of bricks. We are seriously having a baby. But no, it hasn't. I still have the essence of self-preservation stirring beneath my round exterior.

Still working on my registry. Just when I think it is complete, I read something on Consumer Reports or see or hear through the grapevine about a new item I just have to add. *cough* Ergo carrier *cough*. I need to walk away. It is becoming an addiction. There is no way a new baby needs all of this stuff but I just. can't. stop. I need help.

I've also been researching maternity/newborn photographers. I think I may have found one for a steal. DH and I discussed it and we will probably do this instead of the second 3D/4D ultrasound were were planning on. I'd love to remember the way I looked (even if retouching is needed for my 13-year old acne-laden skin), and remember my son - all tiny and wrinkly like a Shar Pei. Time passes you by so quickly and these pictures will be my constant reminder. The pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. The calm after the storm. I never want to forget and I never want to take it for granted.

On an administrative note, my blogroll was in desperate need of some attention, so you may have noticed the housecleaning. I was so delighted to move so many of us from TTC to PG and from PG to Parenting. But I was also disheartened to move a few from PG back to TTC. It just tears me apart. And its not fucking fair. Not much else to say except that even though I am where I am, I have not forgotten where I came from. I think of all my TTC sisters constantly and a great deal of my worship each Sunday is spent on all of you.

P.S. If I mistakenly added you to the wrong category, deleted your blog, or if you just want to be added (lurkers included!), please leave a comment or email me. I want to stay on top of things!