Tired baby is tired

I bet if I hadn't told you, you wouldn't have even known there was a baby in this picture. Edith is a master of disguise.

3 days

The baby has come, and while I've written about her elsewhere (on my blog, and all over Twitter), I haven't written anything about her here. So I will! Her name is Edith Sinclair Orme, and we like her okay so far. She's been fussy and refused to sleep or eat for a few days, but now that we've whipped up a bottle for her and fed her, she's a lot more cheerful. ("Cheerful," of course, means "asleep." She's laying in my lap right now as I try to type this out one-handed.) Tamsen's tired and sore from her C-section, but in good spirits. I'm pretty good, too, and mostly just hoping that she'll eat better so she can sleep better.

You didn't come here for words, though. Here's a picture of mama and baby asleep together.

I have another one of Edith, Tamsen, and her mom all asleep on the couch, but I think Susan doesn't like having pictures taken, so I won't post it here; trust me, though, when I tell you that it is adorable.

38 weeks

Okay folks, the big news is that I went to the doctor yesterday and found out the baby is breech, which means I'm going in for a scheduled c-section next week (the 23rd to be specific). It's not exactly what either of us was hoping for, but we think it's our best option, so we're moving forward with it. If you're interested, Sam's going to be tweeting the whole experience, so look for him on twitter (@TheRealSamOrme) if you want immediate details and pictures. The procedure's scheduled for 12:30pm, and we check in a few hours before that.

In less recent news, I had two baby showers in the past few months, and both were a lot of fun. The first was speakeasy themed, complete with a bathtub punch bowl and plenty of gambling, and the second was hobo themed, complete with arm-wrestling and eating stew out of cans.

Here is my attempt at taking my own picture with my phone. Ignore my slightly-crossed eyes and focus on the fact that I'm wearing lipstick for the first time ever and my hair is curled.

Also, check out my gold nails. Blam.

Here's my bathtub punch bowl I built, by which I mean I attached legs to a baby bathtub. What I did was bolt some metal handrail brackets to the base using stainless steel bolts and neoprene washers, and then I covered them with curved cardboard sleeves I made and painted white to look like the feet of a clawfoot tub. Technically it leaked despite all the water tests I did, but it was all cool because I didn't put the punch directly in it. 

And here are some of the fellas playing poker. It was the first shower any of them had ever been to, and they all had a great time and said I had set the bar pretty high for future baby showers. I told them they could keep playing cards while I opened gifts inside, but they all wanted to be a part of things so they came in to watch.

(I didn't take any pictures at the hobo shower, but Audrey put hers on Facebook.)

Last but not least, I promised you baby pictures of the Sam. I hope you're sitting down for this, because some of these are adorable.

Well, not this first one. Sam's pretty red-faced, and hairy, and angry in this picture, which is how I'm told he looked for his first six months. His little hand seems to be pointing a knuckle right at the photographer, while his scowl suggests that if he could talk he'd be saying something along the lines of "You know what your problem is, buddy?" If anything I think he bears a striking resemblance to an inebriated Burt Young.

Eh, eh?

I acquired these photos from Sam's mom, who brought a big box of pictures down with her when she visited a few months ago. They weren't all of Sam, they were just a big mix of family pictures, so I had to sift through them looking for Sam. Some I couldn't tell who they were of, but I had zero doubts about this one. Look at that profile:

THAT is an Orme. Also, I bet you didn't know that Sam was blond as a toddler. 

Here he is chilling:

Using his phone:

Playing on his favorite fire hydrant:

And walking his pet duck:

Furthermore, I bet you didn't know Sam was an athlete from a very young age. So far he's dabbled in

Baseball:

Soccer:

Cycling:

Running:

And here he is posing for the cover of Sports Illustrated:

Like I said, each picture is more adorable than the last, which is why I had to tack this one I found in the box onto the end. This is a picture of my mother-in-law in a hole that her father dug and stuck her in. Tell me that's not the cutest thing you've ever seen.

25 weeks

If I look like I swallowed a small watermelon it's partially because I'm five months pregnant, but it's also because I've been swallowing small watermelons. Every time we go grocery shopping I buy a watermelon and spend a week or so eating my way through it. Love me some watermelon.

But I know you didn't come all this way to look at fruit - you want to see some five-month pictures, so here I am at 25 weeks:

If you know me at all you know that I'm a nail-biter, but look at these puppies! They're growing so fast I was having to chew them off every day, which was just too much work, so for now I'm putting up with them.

And for good measure, here's a shot of my 25-week belly:

Sorry it's sideways, but you get the idea.

On the name front, no we haven't picked a name yet. We're still trying to choose between Edith and Olive, but at this point there's no clear winner. We like both names so we're not fussed about making a decision anytime soon. We may just have to see what this baby looks like when she comes out.

Lastly, I've finally gotten my hands on some of Sam's baby pictures, so be prepared for what's to come.

Gray baby blobs

Well, after an extremely long ultrasound the results are in, and we've been told we're most likely having a girl. The baby kept turning flips and putting itself in weird positions, and the tech had to measure every part of the baby, so the whole thing took about an hour and a half, which I was not expecting. Frankly you can only watch a screen of swirling gray blobs for so long before you start seeing things. It's like watching a moving Rorschach test, or a weird silent film produced by Sergei Eisenstein, Salvador Dali, and Tim Burton. There were crocodiles that morphed into spiny octopuses that changed into ghoulish Halloween masks with beards made out of teeth.

The whole thing was surreal, and yet it got pretty boring pretty fast. I was tired, Sam's on Vicodin while he's waiting to have a root canal, so he was tired, and we both just wanted to get home and take a nap. Luckily my doctor's appointment afterward was super-quick, so we high-tailed it out of there, got some food, ran a quick errand, and went home to crash, which takes us up to the present.

Myopia and Crooked Teeth

I am curious to know what our baby will look like, but not in a giddy, expectant sort of way. No, if anything it's a dollop of dread combined with a "why can't I look away from this train wreck" sort of feel, because I know in my heart of hearts that Sam and I are not good-looking people (see below). I figure even if our kid manages to get the best each of us has to offer gene-wise, they will undoubtedly have some serious vision and dental problems.

So, as a taste of what's to come I thought I'd prepare you with some of my baby pictures. Brace yourselves.

Exhibit A:

Here I am at 1 month old. I am squishy and pink, which is to be expected, but I am also enormous (I came out 12 days late weighing 10 pounds), and, if my squinty eyes and clawed fist are any indication, my nature is extremely mistrustful.

Exhibit B:

This is me at six months. Pale, indistinct features. The relaxed slouch of a Colombian drug lord. Glasses, a protruding forehead, and a really top-notch blue leisure suit. Not much has changed, except I tragically outgrew that suit and have since grown some hair. Speaking of which...

Exhibit C:

Sweet jeepers will you look at that hairline. I thought surely some hair would disguise that forehead, but I hadn't counted on it only growing on the back of my head. I look like a balding Chucky doll.  I understand now why my mother made me wear not one, but two hats that year for Halloween.

And now, because you managed to look at all that, here is the best baby picture I have of myself:

I'm 8 months old, my Chucky hair hasn't yet come in, I'm wearing a cute little dress, and I'm already eating solidly solid food. (So what if it's clothespins?) This one gives me a smidgen of hope for the future.

14 week photo

For those of you dying for photos, here's a picture of me at 14 weeks: