<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2724985968439391754</id><updated>2012-02-16T01:39:48.601-08:00</updated><category term='turtle'/><category term='pregnancy'/><title type='text'>Dear Turtle</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dearturtle.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2724985968439391754/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dearturtle.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Emily</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03076574489101548184</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>25</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2724985968439391754.post-4665190253388608818</id><published>2008-02-25T17:07:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-25T17:53:14.647-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Almost 3 months - where does the time go?</title><content type='html'>Dear Eleanor,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In less than a week you'll be three months old. I can hardly believe how quickly the time goes! Your dad and I joke that if we strap you in your car seat and tighten the harness you'll stop growing so quickly. Somehow I don't think you'd enjoy that very much...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src ="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2384/2204145403_42ca80a197.jpg?v=1200784374"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I write this, you're falling asleep in the bouncy chair while I rock it with my foot. This is pretty much par for the course - most days you have at least 2 naps in your chair. You seem to like it there, which I suppose shouldn't surprise me much. I suspect that you like that you can see what's going on around you but you still feel safe and soothed by the bouncing. We tend to put you in it and move you to wherever we're doing something. You particularly like being placed next to the dishwasher when it's running or being in the kitchen when I have the mixer going.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src = "http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2048/2219160989_eabdbd986e.jpg?v=0"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While I cook, I talk to you about what I'm doing. I hope that it makes you feel included and that it will help you acquire language quickly, because I think you'll be a happier baby when you can communicate with us verbally. I also hope that you'll learn to cook from a young age - it's a skill I'm consistently glad I have. You have to eat every day, and it's nice to be able to eat well. My dad says that cooking with kids helps them learn math, which I guess makes sense. I think that having a parent who is as good at math as your dad is will more likely be the reason for your facility with math when you're older.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src ="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2277/2219160997_82f15e09bd.jpg?v=0"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You've started smiling at us, which is very rewarding for me. It's much easier to parent you when I feel like we're getting a reaction! You have a beautiful smile - everyone says so. You started smiling right around the time you turned 2 months old, which is earlier than most babies. Of course, you're &lt;i&gt;very&lt;/i&gt; advanced.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src = "http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2079/2240724611_a70635f9c9.jpg?v=0"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Earlier this month you attended your first political event - the Washington State Democratic Caucuses. I was an Area Caucus Coordinator, and you were with me all day. We caucused for Obama, who won Washington handily. This is a really exciting election cycle - for the first time in as long as I can remember, the nomination is still up for grabs and it's almost the end of February! I think that when you're older you'll think it was cool that you got to take part in such a historical and unusual election. Your dad was elected as a delegate to the next level, but the people in our precinct wouldn't elect me because I was off running 6 OTHER caucuses, the stinkers. I'm quite bitter about this, but our friends who run the party at our district level assure me that they'll find a delegate slot for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src ="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2129/2259063164_648a59c90f.jpg?v=0"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The cats seem to have gotten used to you. I'm fairly sure Scrumpy thinks you're a kitten, as he's always trying to lick your head. I figure it's better for him to try to groom you than attack you, so for the most part we let him as it doesn't seem to bug you and if he feels bonded with you it's probably good. Nibbler is mostly indifferent to you; occasionally she'll sniff at you but then when you move your arm around she'll scamper away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src ="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2022/2241588570_8c0fc2a171.jpg?v=0"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Your Grandma Barb came to visit. She has very definite ideas about how babies should be treated and what they need, and her ideas are not the same as mine all the time. It's important to me that you have a relationship with her, but I have to admit that her refusal to feed you the right way/amount was pretty frustrating to me. She's a very different sort of person than I'm used to dealing with, so I hope that we'll be able to build a relationship that can function because you need to know both of your Grandmas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src = "http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2088/2204946532_5718b74b85.jpg?v=0"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Your Uncle Colin is coming to visit us in a few weeks, and I'm really excited to see him, and I'm excited for him to meet you!! He's spending his spring break out here because a plane ticket to Italy would have been super-expensive and campus all but shuts down during spring break. I have to admit that I'm looking forward to being able to go out on a date or two with your dad while Colin is here - I haven't looked for a babysitter yet (it's hard to imagine finding someone I trust to take care of you!) so it will be nice to have family here for a week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As a family we've started having Shabbat dinners on Friday nights. I think that you should grow up with a sense of your cultural heritage, so every Friday we light candles, bless the wine and the Challah, and have a family dinner. You and I bake the Challah together Friday afternoon while your dad is at work, and he comes home to the smell of fresh-baked bread and dinner on the stove. Sometimes I feel like such a trip back to the 50s!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src = "http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2137/2259063182_6401af503e.jpg?v=0"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We've been doing sign language with you. So far we're using the signs for "hungry" before I nurse you and "diaper" before we change you. You definitely know what they mean - when I ask you if you're hungry, you stop fussing and get a HUGE grin on your face and look eagerly toward my breast. You also seem delighted when we ask you if you'd like a clean diaper - you stop fussing and start smiling and cooing, and you stop kicking your legs so we can change you easily. We tell you it's not EASY being the smartest baby in the world, but we all have our crosses to bear. You're also getting really good at holding your head up - such strong neck muscles! When your dad comes home from work each night, he plays with you while I work on dinner or take some time for myself. He calls them "head-ups" when he puts you on your tummy and your raise your head. You're working on turning over - I won't be surprised if you've got that figured out within the week. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src ="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2053/2241588546_aaa3a8691e.jpg?v=0"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For the most part, you are a happy baby and an absolute delight. Around 10 or 11 in the evening you get really fussy and cry for anywhere from 5 minutes to an hour, and then you go to sleep. You're sleeping through the night really well - after you go to sleep between 10 and midnight, you usually sleep until 5:30 in the morning, when you wake up to nurse. After that you sleep for another two hours, nurse again, then sleep until 10:00 am when you get up for the day. You take some shorter naps and some longer ones during the day, which lets me get stuff done around the house. 3 or 4 days a week I snuggle up with you and take an afternoon nap, which is a real treat for  me. You cuddle into my chest and put your tiny hand on me, and I feel so full of love and amazement that I get to be so close and connected to you. You're an amazing little girl, Eleanor, and I feel blessed every (well, almost every) moment that I get to spend with you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src = "http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2045/2211977505_c881af627f.jpg?v=0"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love,&lt;br /&gt;Mama&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2724985968439391754-4665190253388608818?l=dearturtle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dearturtle.blogspot.com/feeds/4665190253388608818/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2724985968439391754&amp;postID=4665190253388608818' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2724985968439391754/posts/default/4665190253388608818'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2724985968439391754/posts/default/4665190253388608818'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dearturtle.blogspot.com/2008/02/almost-3-months-where-does-time-go.html' title='Almost 3 months - where does the time go?'/><author><name>Emily</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03076574489101548184</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2724985968439391754.post-4080626901209646174</id><published>2008-01-13T00:27:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-13T00:28:52.317-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Bath Time!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;object type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="400" height="300" data="http://www.vimeo.com/moogaloop.swf?clip_id=604932&amp;amp;server=www.vimeo.com&amp;amp;fullscreen=1&amp;amp;show_title=1&amp;amp;show_byline=1&amp;amp;show_portrait=0&amp;amp;color="&gt; &lt;param name="quality" value="best" /&gt; &lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true" /&gt; &lt;param name="scale" value="showAll" /&gt; &lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.vimeo.com/moogaloop.swf?clip_id=604932&amp;amp;server=www.vimeo.com&amp;amp;fullscreen=1&amp;amp;show_title=1&amp;amp;show_byline=1&amp;amp;show_portrait=0&amp;amp;color=" /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.vimeo.com/604932/l:embed_604932"&gt;Bath Time for Eleanor&lt;/a&gt; from &lt;a href="http://www.vimeo.com/user341964/l:embed_604932"&gt;Emily Steed&lt;/a&gt; on &lt;a href="http://vimeo.com/l:embed_604932"&gt;Vimeo&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2724985968439391754-4080626901209646174?l=dearturtle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dearturtle.blogspot.com/feeds/4080626901209646174/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2724985968439391754&amp;postID=4080626901209646174' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2724985968439391754/posts/default/4080626901209646174'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2724985968439391754/posts/default/4080626901209646174'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dearturtle.blogspot.com/2008/01/bath-time.html' title='Bath Time!!'/><author><name>Emily</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03076574489101548184</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2724985968439391754.post-1022034948719383050</id><published>2007-12-30T23:24:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-31T00:24:48.766-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Christmas 2007</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;Dear Eleanor, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It's hard to believe, but you're a month old already. You've survived your first Christmas. My mom went back to Italy the day after my 24&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt; birthday, so it was just the three of us. We had a really wonderful and relaxed celebration. One of the presents we got for you (really, it's for us) is the Baby Bjorn bouncy seat. We've taken to calling it the Magic Chair because when you're fussy we can usually put you in it, bounce you a bit, and you calm right down. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_M1vdJFSL8ys/R3ia_JUIJHI/AAAAAAAAAAM/7huYLmgQdwU/s1600-h/IMG_0323.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_M1vdJFSL8ys/R3ia_JUIJHI/AAAAAAAAAAM/7huYLmgQdwU/s320/IMG_0323.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5150036583520937074" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;On Christmas morning we got up around 9:30 and had breakfast (Your dad and I had bacon and cranberry &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;stollen&lt;/span&gt;. You had boob.) and then commenced opening presents. We gave you some books and toys, and your Grandma Amy and Grandpa George gave you some clothes. Your dad and I got new bathrobes and lots of books, movies, puzzles, and a new board game. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2333/2137029237_4ce4e2ae58.jpg?v=0" /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Even the kitties got presents. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2181/2137780906_947c7fc528.jpg?v=0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;After we finished opening presents we lazed around in our pajamas for the rest of the day. You were very cute in your sleeper - you looked like a little candy cane! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2321/2137820404_f0f03a9aec.jpg?v=0" /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I spent the few days before Christmas knitting a stocking for your dad. He didn't have one, and I think it's important to have a stocking. I decided to knit an enormous stocking and then felt it. He and your Grandma Amy mocked me the entire time I was knitting it (because it was pretty big) but after I put it through the wash, it was a much more normal and reasonable size. In all fairness, before I washed it, it was comically large. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2192/2137786036_dee2ae7a91.jpg?v=0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I mean really, really big. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2146/2137000675_91394dd1d2.jpg?v=0" /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We've started giving you bottles every once in a while. They contain expressed breast milk, of course - no formula for you! I think your dad likes being able to feed you sometimes, because that's mostly my job. I think you prefer the boob, but you're willing to take the bottle which is nice for me. Once every few days your dad can give you a bottle at 6:00 AM which lets me sleep from 2 or 3 until 9 or 10. Of course, I wake up with my breasts leaking all over and needing to feed you and pump, but it's really really nice to get the sleep. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2235/2137778966_0f5cca3e95.jpg?v=0" /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;You're sleeping in longer stretches now, which is nice for me. We moved your crib into our bedroom, and you sleep there for a few hours a night. I'm looking forward to you sleeping through the night more regularly, but right now your sleep habits are better than they were two weeks ago, so I'm feeling optimistic. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;You've passed a milestone - you outgrew the newborn diaper covers we bought! The "Small" size is appropriate now - you're no longer swimming in them. You've almost outgrown the 3 month &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;onesies&lt;/span&gt;, too. Your 6-week check-up is in about 2 weeks, and I'm very eager to see how much you weigh now. Your hands look bigger to me, and I can see little changes in your face every day. You're growing SO QUICKLY!!! A few days ago, you even managed to hold your head up by yourself. Such strong neck muscles! You're making lots of eye contact with us now, and I spent lots of time looking at you, talking to you, and wondering what it is you're thinking. It's pretty incredible to watch you take everything in and learn about your surroundings. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Love, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Mama&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2724985968439391754-1022034948719383050?l=dearturtle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dearturtle.blogspot.com/feeds/1022034948719383050/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2724985968439391754&amp;postID=1022034948719383050' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2724985968439391754/posts/default/1022034948719383050'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2724985968439391754/posts/default/1022034948719383050'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dearturtle.blogspot.com/2007/12/christmas-2007.html' title='Christmas 2007'/><author><name>Emily</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03076574489101548184</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_M1vdJFSL8ys/R3ia_JUIJHI/AAAAAAAAAAM/7huYLmgQdwU/s72-c/IMG_0323.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2724985968439391754.post-852219379591570334</id><published>2007-12-15T20:46:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-30T23:48:29.638-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Week 2</title><content type='html'>Dear Eleanor, &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;This week has been MUCH easier than last. You are a mellow and genial baby, at least most of the time. The only time you cry is when you're trying to poop, and the rest of the time you're perfectly content to sleep, eat, and look around with your eyes open W-I-D-E like you're trying to take everything in lest it disappear soon. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We've settled into a pretty decent sleep rhythm. You're awake now during the day more and sleeping a bit more at night, but you still seem to prefer being awake between about 2 and 7 a.m. Your dad and I have been doing shifts at night, which lets each of us get SOME sleep each night. I settle down with you on the couch and send your dad up to get some sleep between 10 and 11, and then when you wake up around 2 I hand you off to him and get some sleep myself. I'm really enjoying snuggling you to sleep - you make the most adorable sounds and you cuddle into my chest and I get to breathe in your sweet baby scent as we drift off together. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2352/2113733197_8ecf0b3303.jpg?v=0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Your Grandma Amy (she thinks she might like to be called "Grandmama") arrived a week ago. She's been taking the early shift with you, but the last two nights you've been sleeping nicely for your dad and she hasn't needed to take over for him. She was SO excited to meet you, and she's quite taken with you. She keeps suggesting that we dress you up in a peapod and take pictures. I said no. She's enjoying getting in lots and lots of baby snuggle time while she's here. Sometimes when you're a bit fussy she's reluctant to give you back to me! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2354/2096045153_231ac101b5.jpg?v=0" /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;On Wednesday we went to IKEA to get a hat rack for the front hall. You seemed to enjoy it. Some of the other shoppers wanted to lean in and see you (and breathe all their germs all over you) so most of the time I was either snuggling you to my chest or you were in your car seat, which we had set in the cart, with a blanket draped over the top so that people couldn't peer at you. One woman tried to swoop in and get really close to you while she was walking and eating at the same time. I tossed the blanket over your carseat quickly and she seemed to get the message. We got a bunch of Christmas ornaments while we were there, too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;On Thursday our friends Larra and Ari came over to see you and while they were here they helped us decorate our Christmas tree. We had a lot of fun putting it up, and they hid the pickle ornament for us. This is a made-up German tradition that seemed pretty fun to me - a pickle ornament is hidden on the tree, and then the first person to find it on Christmas morning gets an extra present. Today I finished all the Christmas shopping for you and your dad. Now all that's left is wrapping the presents when they get here and putting together stockings for everyone. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2217/2136909541_f135bcd8a9_m.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;You like looking at the lights on the Christmas tree when we have them turned on. I'm not sure how far you can see, but you're certainly interested in the tree even from a few feet away. There are lots of presents under there for you!! I know you're not aware of them, but it's been fun picking things out that I think you'll like as you get older. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;You're nursing quite enthusiastically, and when we took you to the pediatrician on Monday we found out that you weighed 6.8 ounces MORE than your birth weight - what a champ!! I'm not having any problems with my milk supply, that's for sure. There have been instances where you pop off the boob and milk is spraying out at your face (or, more likely - all over my shirt sleeve and tummy...) and I have to grab a diaper quickly so I don't squirt you too much. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The cats are getting used to you and mostly staying away. Scrumpy is more interested than Nibbler, and I think also less afraid of you. A few times your dad will have you on his lap or snuggled up on his chest and Scrumpy will jump up next to him, also asking for attention. Scrumpy has also tried to groom you!! We let him sniff you, and then he will lick your hair a few times and make it stand up like Alfalfa. It's very cute. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2177/2113733199_27ce4fa263.jpg?v=0" /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We're learning how to deal with each other and figuring out this new family-of-three, and I'm loving most of it. It would be a lie to say I'm loving the lack of sleep or the 3 a.m. feedings, but the rest of it is pretty spectacular. We keep saying how advanced you are - today we got a few fleeting smiles out of you - and I'm loving seeing how you're growing and changing each day. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Love, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Mama&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2724985968439391754-852219379591570334?l=dearturtle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dearturtle.blogspot.com/feeds/852219379591570334/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2724985968439391754&amp;postID=852219379591570334' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2724985968439391754/posts/default/852219379591570334'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2724985968439391754/posts/default/852219379591570334'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dearturtle.blogspot.com/2007/12/week-2.html' title='Week 2'/><author><name>Emily</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03076574489101548184</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2217/2136909541_f135bcd8a9_t.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2724985968439391754.post-6555011574603508978</id><published>2007-12-06T21:55:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-06T23:01:03.237-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Week 1</title><content type='html'>Dear Eleanor, &lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;This has been an exciting week for all of us. You gave your dad and I quite a scare after we came home from the hospital. You were very fussy on Friday and Saturday night, and Sunday afternoon I was worried because you looked pretty yellow and hadn't had a wet diaper since Saturday night. We called up the consulting nurse at the pediatrician and she paged the on-call attending pediatrician, who told us to take you directly to the ER at Children's. I thought I knew what terror was, but I have to say that nothing in my life has compared to the fear I felt when we were driving you to the hospital. When we got there you had a wet diaper, which was something of a relief, but the doctors hooked you up to an IV and had some lab work done to check your &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;bilirubin&lt;/span&gt; levels. They were elevated - 18.6 - so you were admitted and we put you in an &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;isolette&lt;/span&gt; under special lights to help break down your &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;bilirubin&lt;/span&gt;. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2226/2088666868_af4a87acdf.jpg?v=0" /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Your dad was able stay relatively calm and see things in perspective, but I sat next to you all night sobbing and feeling like the world's worst mother. You were pretty mellow about everything, especially after you weren't dehydrated anymore. You really weren't wild about the mask you had to wear over your eyes, but aside from that you tolerated the whole ordeal with a minimum of fussing. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2330/2087880435_6557beaae8.jpg?v=0" /&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The next morning your levels had come down to 13.4 and we were having an easier time feeding you, so after rounds they turned off the drip on your IV to make sure you were getting enough fluids by breastfeeding. By that night your &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;bilirubin&lt;/span&gt; was down to 11.3, and the next morning it was the same. I was so relieved!! We left On Wednesday we took you to see the pediatrician for a check-up. The clinic is less than a mile from where we live, so instead of driving we put you in the Bjorn and walked. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2358/2090997138_5cc349cb29.jpg?v=0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I carried you there and your dad carried you home. On the way home we made a detour for Thai food to bring back with us for lunch. By the time we got home I was feeling a bit sore (it was about two miles overall) but I was glad that we had gotten out in the fresh air for some exercise. We have another appointment on Monday that we're planning on walking to as well unless it's wet out. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;You're turning out to be quite the champion &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;pooper&lt;/span&gt;. Twice now - TWICE! - I've been changing you and you decide that it's a good time to take a poop, and I've just managed to catch it in the diaper. If someone had told me a year ago that I'd be catching poop in a cloth diaper and then excitedly telling your dad all about it, I would have thought they were nuts. I think it's safe to say that "poop-catching" isn't something that really occurred to me as part of being a parent. I think it's safe to say that you have a number of surprises in store for me in that vein. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Yesterday we gave you a bath - your first since you left the hospital (for the first time). You didn't even mind having your hair washed! After your bath we put you in a snugly fleece sleeper and took some pictures of you on the quilt your Great-Grandma Velma made for you. We're going to use one for the birth announcements we're sending out to family and friends. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2099/2090212641_f63c0b4d7b.jpg?v=0" /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My mom is arriving the day after tomorrow. She's very excited to meet you, and I think we'll all be glad to see her. The housework has fallen by the wayside to a great deal and it will be nice to have another pair of hands around to help out. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;You're sleeping on my lap now. I'm waiting for you to wake up to feed before your dad and I try to get some sleep. You seem to be happiest when I'm holding you - when you're really upset (mostly from the effort of pooping, I think) I've been able to snuggle you to my chest and you calm down. It's like having a super power. I'm not sure how long it will last, but I'm loving every moment of it while it does. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2125/2090214251_8972e11a31.jpg?v=0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Your dad is quite smitten by you (as are we all, really, but him even more so. He gazes at you with so much love and adoration that it just about makes my heart explode. You're a lucky little girl, Eleanor. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2292/2088678720_9e1522ae26.jpg?v=0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was a long journey for you to get here, but I'm more happy about meeting you and the joy and love you've brought into our lives than I've ever been about anything. This is the beginning of a grand adventure. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Love, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Mama&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2724985968439391754-6555011574603508978?l=dearturtle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dearturtle.blogspot.com/feeds/6555011574603508978/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2724985968439391754&amp;postID=6555011574603508978' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2724985968439391754/posts/default/6555011574603508978'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2724985968439391754/posts/default/6555011574603508978'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dearturtle.blogspot.com/2007/12/week-1.html' title='Week 1'/><author><name>Emily</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03076574489101548184</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2724985968439391754.post-5560582190178190362</id><published>2007-12-02T12:35:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-02T12:44:16.226-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Eleanor Jane</title><content type='html'>&lt;img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2345/2077784910_7d99c2e2e3.jpg?v=0" /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Eleanor arrived on Thursday, November 29, 2007. We are all home now resting and enjoying our new family. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2724985968439391754-5560582190178190362?l=dearturtle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dearturtle.blogspot.com/feeds/5560582190178190362/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2724985968439391754&amp;postID=5560582190178190362' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2724985968439391754/posts/default/5560582190178190362'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2724985968439391754/posts/default/5560582190178190362'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dearturtle.blogspot.com/2007/12/eleanor-jane.html' title='Eleanor Jane'/><author><name>Emily</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03076574489101548184</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2724985968439391754.post-8952789464126994169</id><published>2007-11-24T01:09:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-24T01:36:36.324-08:00</updated><title type='text'>38 Weeks (and 2 days)</title><content type='html'>Dear Turtle, &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Your due date is looming ever closer, and you seem to be perfectly happy staying put. I've been having more contractions lately, especially when I'm walking around, but nothing too exciting. My blood pressure has been slowly creeping upward, so today I went in for another Non-Stress Test at the Labor and Delivery ward (because the clinic is closed for the Thanksgiving holiday) and they've told me to be on bed rest until tomorrow, when I'll go in for another NST. I'm concerned that they'll want to induce and that you're not ready to be born yet. I figure that as much as I'm ready for your arrival, you probably have a good reason for waiting and I should leave it to you to decide when to come out. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday was Thanksgiving. Your dad and I made dinner together. It was very relaxed and low-key, but we did all the traditional dishes: turkey, stuffing, green beans, sweet potatoes, mashed potatoes, cranberry sauce, and pumpkin pie. Of course, it was actually "Oven-Baked Stuffing with Sweet Italian Sausage and Pecans" and not just "stuffing" and "Spiced Pumpkin Cheesecake" instead of "pumpkin pie" but that's just how I cook, and it was all good and finished at the same time. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The shower that my friend Jila hosted for us on Saturday was really fun - we had 9 or 10 people over and we played board games and ate food and cake and watched a movie (Ferris Bueller's Day Off) and talked and laughed and generally had a good time. Oh, and people gave you presents! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because the shower was held here, the house is clean now. Your nursery is ready for you, and we even cleaned the master bedroom. I think we're going to end up moving your crib in with us. Because it's winter and we have heavy blankets on the bed, I'm not comfortable with the idea of you sleeping in the bed with us, but I want you close by for nursing. I think we're going to worry about that when you're born, though. It's hard to know how you'll like to sleep before we try it out. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Your Great-Grandma Velma sent a quilt for you that matches the quilt she made for your dad and I as a wedding present. It's beautiful - we have it hanging on the side of your crib right now. Apparently she entered it in a contest and won 3rd prize. I'm not sure that's the full story, but that's what your Grandma Barb says. (Great-Grandma Velma is your dad's dad's mom.) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My parents spent the Thanksgiving holiday in Germany with friends. My mom says they're seeing all sorts of cute baby things. We'll see how full her suitcases are when she gets here in a few weeks. She's flying to the east coast for a business trip a week from Sunday, and then heading out here two weeks from tomorrow. I'm looking forward to seeing her, and I know she's very excited to meet you. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Your dad has just finished making me pasta (I've had Thanksgiving for 3 meals in a row now and we're going to another dinner tomorrow if I'm not delivering you) so it's time for me to go and eat. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love, &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mama&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2724985968439391754-8952789464126994169?l=dearturtle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dearturtle.blogspot.com/feeds/8952789464126994169/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2724985968439391754&amp;postID=8952789464126994169' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2724985968439391754/posts/default/8952789464126994169'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2724985968439391754/posts/default/8952789464126994169'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dearturtle.blogspot.com/2007/11/38-weeks-and-2-days.html' title='38 Weeks (and 2 days)'/><author><name>Emily</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03076574489101548184</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2724985968439391754.post-9187344019131167573</id><published>2007-11-14T22:59:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-15T00:49:48.265-08:00</updated><title type='text'>37 Weeks</title><content type='html'>Dear Turtle, &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today you are full-term. Now, it's just a waiting game. You nursery is (mostly) ready, your dad is painting the bathroom right now, and I'm READY to have a baby. We're packing the hospital bag and ordering your carseat and doing all the little last-minute things that we can. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night your Dad and I went to a cooking class together at a place on Beacon Hill called Culinary Communion. Everyone is responsible for one dish and there's a chef there to supervise, and then at the end of the class we all eat dinner. It was fantastic. Your dad made mashed beets and potatoes with garlic - they were REALLY good. And BRIGHT PINK. I made a stuffed pork loin that had bacon, parmesan, garlic, and spinach in the stuffing. It turned out pretty well. Tonight for dinner I made baked Italian pasta and buttermilk smashed potatoes. Lately I've been cooking a lot - nesting? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On Saturday my friend Jila is hosting a baby shower here. We have the house to clean up before then, but otherwise I'm ready for it. I don't know if people will expect to see the nursery, but it's at the point where we can show it to people without them being horrified by our mess. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My mom and dad are in London this week. I wouldn't be at all surprised if your Grandma Amy found fabulous British baby clothes for you that she had to buy while she was there. Your Grandpa George is more likely to get you a camera. Your Grandma Amy is going to come visit in less than a month - she arrives on the 8th of December and will say though the 23rd. I'm glad she's coming to help me learn how to best take care of you. I don't know if you'll have been born by the time she arrives, but my midwives will induce at 42 weeks (December 19th) so you'll certainly be here by the time she leaves. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm very eager for you to come out. I keep looking down at my belly and saying "GET OUT!!" in a loud voice, hoping that it will convince you to get things moving. So far a few Braxton-Hicks contractions, but nothing exciting. Hurry up! We are excited to meet you!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love, &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mama&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2724985968439391754-9187344019131167573?l=dearturtle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dearturtle.blogspot.com/feeds/9187344019131167573/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2724985968439391754&amp;postID=9187344019131167573' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2724985968439391754/posts/default/9187344019131167573'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2724985968439391754/posts/default/9187344019131167573'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dearturtle.blogspot.com/2007/11/37-weeks.html' title='37 Weeks'/><author><name>Emily</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03076574489101548184</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2724985968439391754.post-7016182515668977247</id><published>2007-11-07T23:59:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-08T00:18:19.370-08:00</updated><title type='text'>36 Weeks</title><content type='html'>Dear Turtle, &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm feeling much more prepared after a week of hard work getting ready for your emergence. The downstairs bathroom is nearly done, and it's painted! We've spent the past two nights painting the entryway and working on your nursery. It's finally cleaned out, for the most part, and we put the closet doors back on and organized all my craft, art, knitting, and sewing supplies inside. We put your crib together and bought a mattress at IKEA this weekend along with some more lighting for the nursery. Right now I have a bunch of blankets and mattress covers in the wash. In one week I'll be "full term" so I'm really feeling the pressure to get everything on our to-do list DONE. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today your dad's co-workers had a baby-shower potluck lunch for us. We were late because we had a flat tire this morning, but it was a lovely spread. A lot of your dad's co-workers are Indian, so the food was really really good. Not a macaroni salad in sight. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This evening I went to a rubber stamp store with my friend Larra to get some supplies for thank-you notes for baby gifts. I think this weekend your dad and I are going to get supplies for baby announcements at the same store. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My feet and ankles are quite swollen, so I'm sleeping with my feet propped up. I'm quite eager for you to be born, both because I'm eager to meet you and because I'm sick of being pregnant. My guess is that you'll decide to be done more than 2 weeks and fewer than 4 weeks from now. I can't wait!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love, &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mama&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2724985968439391754-7016182515668977247?l=dearturtle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dearturtle.blogspot.com/feeds/7016182515668977247/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2724985968439391754&amp;postID=7016182515668977247' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2724985968439391754/posts/default/7016182515668977247'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2724985968439391754/posts/default/7016182515668977247'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dearturtle.blogspot.com/2007/11/36-weeks.html' title='36 Weeks'/><author><name>Emily</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03076574489101548184</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2724985968439391754.post-6708752905355434366</id><published>2007-11-01T14:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-11-01T14:59:44.573-07:00</updated><title type='text'>35 Weeks</title><content type='html'>Dear Turtle, &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Your dad and I have been working every night this week to get your nursery ready. Tonight we're going to put your crib together! I'm really feeling pressured to step up the amount of work and preparation we're doing - your due date is less than 5 weeks away, and I have a feeling you're going to make your debut a week or two early. We have a fair amount of food in the freezer (and there are always Trader Joe's frozen meals) and I'm cleaning lots of things downstairs, but the problem is it doesn't STAY CLEAN. It's a constant process - I'm trying to get in the habit of cleaning a little every day to stay on top of the mess. I'm having varying amounts of success. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday at the NST I had a contraction. I didn't feel it, but there it was on the chart. You're also really low in my pelvis and head-down. These are all signs you're getting ready to come out, and I'm looking forward to it. I'm quickly reaching the point of being SICK of pregnancy and ready to deal with labor and a baby if it means I can roll over when I'm sleeping without waking up and re-adjusting the five pillows I sleep with. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This weekend we're going to IKEA to get the mattress for your crib and some other things to organize the nursery, as well as some fixtures for the downstairs bathroom. Next weekend is the baby shower that my friend Jila is throwing for me. The weekend after that is Thanksgiving, and sometime after that is you!! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love, &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mama&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2724985968439391754-6708752905355434366?l=dearturtle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dearturtle.blogspot.com/feeds/6708752905355434366/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2724985968439391754&amp;postID=6708752905355434366' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2724985968439391754/posts/default/6708752905355434366'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2724985968439391754/posts/default/6708752905355434366'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dearturtle.blogspot.com/2007/11/35-weeks.html' title='35 Weeks'/><author><name>Emily</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03076574489101548184</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2724985968439391754.post-6751060999586955025</id><published>2007-10-24T13:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-24T15:05:24.489-07:00</updated><title type='text'>34 Weeks</title><content type='html'>Dear Turtle, &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We've had an exciting several weeks with you. When your dad and I went in for my glucose screening, the midwife noticed that your heartbeat wasn't as regular as we would have liked it to be. We've been going in for monitoring once a week ever since and last Friday we met with a pediatric cardiologist at Children's Hospital for an echocardiogram. The good news is that your heart is in really good shape, and the irregularity isn't something that the specialists are very worried about. We're going to keep a close eye on it, but usually arrhythmias like yours clear up on their own. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You've been moving a lot, kicking and stretching and lodging your little limbs under my ribs. Last week you finally turned head-down, which is a big relief for everyone. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We still don't have your nursery ready, but we're doing other things to get ready for you. Last weekend your dad and I made lots of ravioli, so we'll have easy-to-make dinners after you're born and we're tired. We put together a big list of all the things we need to do/buy to prepare - it's a long list! We picked out a car seat and stroller, and we're figuring out where you're going to sleep. We've also been cleaning up all the junk we have lying around so we have ROOM for another (albeit small) person here at home. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have lots of little chores that I'm trying to get done each day - organizing the pantry, getting through the laundry backlog, mopping the floors, etc. Your appearance is becoming increasingly imminent and I don't really feel ready yet. I'm definitely ready to not be pregnant any more, but I'm not sure that I'm ready yet for YOU. I guess I don't have much of a choice, though! Your dad seems much more relaxed and prepared than I feel. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love, &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mama&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2724985968439391754-6751060999586955025?l=dearturtle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dearturtle.blogspot.com/feeds/6751060999586955025/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2724985968439391754&amp;postID=6751060999586955025' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2724985968439391754/posts/default/6751060999586955025'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2724985968439391754/posts/default/6751060999586955025'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dearturtle.blogspot.com/2007/10/34-weeks.html' title='34 Weeks'/><author><name>Emily</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03076574489101548184</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2724985968439391754.post-8155226252056152227</id><published>2007-09-16T12:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-16T15:17:36.945-07:00</updated><title type='text'>28 Weeks</title><content type='html'>Dear Turtle, &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's been a while since I've written to you. We've been working on getting the house ready for you - cleaning out the bedroom that will be yours is the biggest job. We found a dresser and a changing table for you at IKEA that we liked (and was on sale!) so we brought that home and put it together a few weeks ago. I've been looking for the matching crib/junior bed since then, because it's not available anymore from IKEA, and we finally found one for sale on Craigslist this week. This morning I sorted out the clothes we've bought for you so far. You certainly have enough onesies for the first few months! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been cooking a lot and trying to eats lots of fruits and veggies so you'll have plenty vitamins to grow big and strong. Last night we made fettucini Alfredo from scratch. Not very healthy, but tasty!! I've also been trying to catch up with my knitting - there are a few things I've started for you that I want to have done before you arrive, because I don't know how much time I'll have for knitting once you're here. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Your Uncle Colin is off at school now - we talk to him 2 or 3 times a week and he seems to be having fun and settling in. We're sending him care packages because he's far away from family and we don't want him to feel lonely. Yesterday we sent him a box full of ingredients for Thai food - curry paste, coconut milk, rice noodles, peanut sauce mix, and rice. We also put a copy of The Stranger (a local alternative newspaper) in for him to read. The articles are all online, but the best part of The Stranger is the ads in the back. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You're kicking and moving A LOT now. I've had some heartburn the last few days, but last night your dad and I went to the store to get Tums and I've been feeling much better since then. It's reassuring when you move because I know you're ok, but sometimes it hurts! You have pretty forceful kicks and have been aiming them at my bladder and cervix lately. The midwife said your head is up by the bottom of my ribcage on the left and your feet are hanging out down in my pelvis to the right, so it makes sense that you're kicking where you are. We're all waiting you to turn head-down to get ready for birth. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This morning I looked at my belly in the mirror and I could swear it was bigger than when I went to bed last night by 10 or 20%. There are about 11 more weeks until you're due, and I'm both excited that you'll be here soon (and not crowding my lungs anymore), and worried about all the things we have left to do. Your dad and I have a long list and we're just working on crossing things off as we have a chance. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love, &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mama&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2724985968439391754-8155226252056152227?l=dearturtle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dearturtle.blogspot.com/feeds/8155226252056152227/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2724985968439391754&amp;postID=8155226252056152227' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2724985968439391754/posts/default/8155226252056152227'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2724985968439391754/posts/default/8155226252056152227'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dearturtle.blogspot.com/2007/09/28-weeks.html' title='28 Weeks'/><author><name>Emily</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03076574489101548184</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2724985968439391754.post-272926260023079848</id><published>2007-08-12T22:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-12T23:35:39.790-07:00</updated><title type='text'>23.5 Weeks</title><content type='html'>Dear Turtle, &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today we had another Bradley class. We're learning lots of new things about pregnancy and the birth process, and I'm learning ways to relax so when it's time for you to be born, I don't need any drugs. Your dad is learning to help me relax. He's not very good at it yet. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm still having a fair amount of nausea, which is less than fun. You seem to wake up right after I eat (your dad thinks it's because my stomach presses against my uterus and you can feel it, or you can hear the food in my stomach) and kick me a good deal, which doesn't help much. I've been trying to eat lots of healthy foods and make sure to drink lots of milk, but sometimes you just seem to be asking for a milkshake. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We've started getting your nursery ready. My dad helped us put up shelves before he left for Italy, and since then I've been sorting through all the stuff we've been storing in there and clearing it out so there's room for a crib and a dresser. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been extra tired lately. Your dad jokes about me needing to "sleep for two" (like I'm eating for two, and peeing for two...) but it really does feel like I need to sometimes!! It's funny, I have this image in my head of my fallopian tubes as hands and they're busy knitting a baby in my uterus, which I realize is silly, but that's kind of how I've been picturing it. I tell your dad that I'm busy knitting a fetus and need to take a nap. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm excited to see you on the OUTSIDE instead of feel you in my insides. We're both having fun trying to imagine who you'll look like (we know for sure you're have a big nose - sorry, kiddo) and what you'll get from each of us. I'm hoping you'll get hair more like mine, and your dad's metabolism. Hair like your dad's (or his sisters...) any my metabolism would just be unfair, I think. We're sure you'll be really smart, but I'm curious to see what sort of things you'll be interested in learning about. Your dad has been reading you counting books in the hopes that you'll be good at math. I've been reading lots of books, full stop. It would be hard to be my kid and not like to read. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's my bed time, so that I can get some rest and you can grow some more. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love, &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mama&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2724985968439391754-272926260023079848?l=dearturtle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dearturtle.blogspot.com/feeds/272926260023079848/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2724985968439391754&amp;postID=272926260023079848' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2724985968439391754/posts/default/272926260023079848'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2724985968439391754/posts/default/272926260023079848'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dearturtle.blogspot.com/2007/08/235-weeks.html' title='23.5 Weeks'/><author><name>Emily</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03076574489101548184</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2724985968439391754.post-132718501794026094</id><published>2007-07-29T21:41:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-29T22:16:44.037-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Bradley Classes</title><content type='html'>Dear Turtle, &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today your dad and I went to our first Bradley Method class. There are two other couples in the class who are due 6 and 8 weeks before us. Today we learned about different exercises and ways to relax that will help me during labor. I'm excited to be taking this class for a couple reasons. It's really important to me that we have a natural, drug-free child birth, and this class will help me get ready to do that. It also means that we're getting close to the time that you'll join us! Today you were really active, kicking me and rolling over. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We've been doing other things to get ready for you, too. This weekend we went to IKEA to get a desk for downstairs and while we were there, we found a changing table and dresser on sale for $49! I put the desk together on Friday night, and yesterday we moved the desktop computer downstairs. We spent the rest of the day yesterday organizing books. You already have more than 100! I put them on the bottom shelf so you'll be able to reach them, when you start crawling around. We picked out a crib for you, too, but we're not going to get it until we've cleaned out the second bedroom. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My dad is coming over tomorrow to help put some shelves up, then on Tuesday I'm taking him to the airport so he can fly to Italy. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last weekend we went to the bookstore to get the new Harry Potter book. I stayed up all night reading it, and since then my sleep schedule has been thrown off a bit. We'be been staying up until 2 or 3, and then sleeping until 10 or 11 the next morning. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've also been baking bread from scratch and making dinner every night. I guess the books weren't kidding about this nesting instinct! It's really exciting for me to do things to get ready for you. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love, &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mama&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2724985968439391754-132718501794026094?l=dearturtle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dearturtle.blogspot.com/feeds/132718501794026094/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2724985968439391754&amp;postID=132718501794026094' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2724985968439391754/posts/default/132718501794026094'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2724985968439391754/posts/default/132718501794026094'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dearturtle.blogspot.com/2007/07/bradley-classes.html' title='Bradley Classes'/><author><name>Emily</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03076574489101548184</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2724985968439391754.post-5822189849302411661</id><published>2007-07-17T10:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-17T10:13:57.845-07:00</updated><title type='text'>You!</title><content type='html'>&lt;img src="http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1431/838180079_ed61d73e82.jpg?v=1184692317"&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2724985968439391754-5822189849302411661?l=dearturtle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dearturtle.blogspot.com/feeds/5822189849302411661/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2724985968439391754&amp;postID=5822189849302411661' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2724985968439391754/posts/default/5822189849302411661'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2724985968439391754/posts/default/5822189849302411661'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dearturtle.blogspot.com/2007/07/you.html' title='You!'/><author><name>Emily</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03076574489101548184</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2724985968439391754.post-8658947917484648053</id><published>2007-07-12T14:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-12T14:36:41.243-07:00</updated><title type='text'>19 Weeks, Ultrasound</title><content type='html'>Dear Turtle, &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm getting ready to leave for your ultrasound and an appointment with the midwives. Your dad and I are back from our vacation, and I've been working on your quilt since we got back. The top is almost all pieced together, so now I just need to figure out the border, backing, binding, and batting. It's fun for me to create something that I know you and I will play with together after you arrive. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Time for me to leave and have your picture taken!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love, &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mama&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2724985968439391754-8658947917484648053?l=dearturtle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dearturtle.blogspot.com/feeds/8658947917484648053/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2724985968439391754&amp;postID=8658947917484648053' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2724985968439391754/posts/default/8658947917484648053'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2724985968439391754/posts/default/8658947917484648053'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dearturtle.blogspot.com/2007/07/19-weeks-ultrasound.html' title='19 Weeks, Ultrasound'/><author><name>Emily</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03076574489101548184</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2724985968439391754.post-7618959208464419901</id><published>2007-07-01T16:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-01T17:47:28.387-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='pregnancy'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='turtle'/><title type='text'>17 weeks</title><content type='html'>Dear Turtle, &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We had your 16 week check up last Wednesday. We heard your heartbeat again, which is good. After the check-up I had my blood drawn, which is always pretty traumatic for me. I got through it without throwing up or passing out, though, which is a vast improvement over what usually happens. We have another appointment in about a week and a half for an ultrasound and test results so we can see how you're doing. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've just started working on a quilt for you. I've been picking out the fabric, washing it, and cutting out the pieces over the last week. I think I'll start work on sewing it together today or tomorrow. I have some more fabric coming from eBay that I'll have to wash and cut into hexagons when it gets here. I picked fairly gender-neutral pictures for the hexagons because we don't know if you're a boy turtle or a girl turtle yet. I found some flannel for the back which will be nice and snuggly for you to wrap up in. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We're very relieved that the parties are over, but now the house is a big mess and we have to clean it up. I'm working on thank-you notes for all the gifts we've received from friends and family. I'm afraid I'm a bit behind, but your dad doesn't help write them so I expect it will take a little while. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My dad finished packing up the house in Silverdale. He came over here with a cradle for you and a bar fridge to go in the master bedroom and brought some of my books from when I was little. He's selling his truck soon, and aparently plans to get his instrument certification before he leaves for Naples. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You're about 5.5 inches long now, and you weigh somewhere between 5 and 7 ounces. I'm still feeling nauseous from time to time, but it comes on rather suddenly and almost violently. I always have a Ziplock bag with me. It's worst if I eat something that I can really taste on the way back up. My strategy to avoid is it mostly to eat whatever is appealing. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night we went to see the new Pixar movie, Ratatouille. Both your dad and I enjoyed it very much. I think I enjoyed the cupcake I had before the movie started even more. We went to the farmer's market in the U-district yesterday morning and got some fruit (I'm planning to make a raspberry tart) and some fresh pasta and some duck eggs. After the market we went to brunch with my Dad at the Volunteer Park Cafe. I had a BLT and tomato soup - um num. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Time to clean the kitchen. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love, &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mama&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2724985968439391754-7618959208464419901?l=dearturtle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dearturtle.blogspot.com/feeds/7618959208464419901/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2724985968439391754&amp;postID=7618959208464419901' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2724985968439391754/posts/default/7618959208464419901'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2724985968439391754/posts/default/7618959208464419901'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dearturtle.blogspot.com/2007/07/17-weeks.html' title='17 weeks'/><author><name>Emily</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03076574489101548184</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2724985968439391754.post-3827542201669058118</id><published>2007-06-13T10:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-13T11:01:50.638-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='pregnancy'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='turtle'/><title type='text'>15 weeks</title><content type='html'>Dear Turtle, &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The past several weeks have been very busy. I found a new job, which I start on Monday. It's nothing too exciting, but it's a paycheck. I have to say, I'm looking forward to you being my full-time job. You'll be much more rewarding and fulfilling than answering phones or really anything I could be doing. The party is on Friday - yesterday I spent all day shopping for party supplies, and today I'm going shopping for most of the food. Tomorrow I'm cooking all day - I'm making lemonade (from about 20 pounds of lemons!!) and potato salad, and I'm also grinding chuck into hamburgers. Your Grandma Amy and her sister Sara are making coleslaw and bringing some of the fresh stuff from Costco. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Your Grandma Barb and Grandpa Gene are coming over for breakfast on Friday morning. I'm planning on just getting croissants from the French bakery nearby and serving coffee. I also have to plan for Sunday dinner with Great-Grandma Maxine and Great-Grandpa Arnold. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tomorrow evening is your Uncle Colin's piano recital. We're going over for it in the evening. This afternoon I have a dentist appointment, where I'm sure I'll be chastized for not flossing enough. Still, it will be good to have my teeth cleaned. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Over the past few days, I've felt little flutters that I think are you moving. They're very small and brief, but it's pretty exciting. You're about 4 inches long now, and I'm just starting to have a little bump. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This weekend we'll be telling just about everyone about you. We're expecting everyone to be very excited - you're the first of your generation on all the sides of the family, so lots of people are eagerly awaiting your arrival. Especially me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love, &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mama&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2724985968439391754-3827542201669058118?l=dearturtle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dearturtle.blogspot.com/feeds/3827542201669058118/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2724985968439391754&amp;postID=3827542201669058118' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2724985968439391754/posts/default/3827542201669058118'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2724985968439391754/posts/default/3827542201669058118'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dearturtle.blogspot.com/2007/06/15-weeks.html' title='15 weeks'/><author><name>Emily</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03076574489101548184</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2724985968439391754.post-4490878019946770602</id><published>2007-05-23T20:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-24T07:18:01.673-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='pregnancy'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='turtle'/><title type='text'>12 Weeks, heartbeat</title><content type='html'>Dear Turtle, &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Your dad's birthday was on Monday. He is now an OLD MAN - 26 years is a lot! We went to my 12-week check up together in the afternoon (rescheduled from tomorrow because I was home sick from work and didn't have to take extra time off by going Monday) and heard your heartbeat for the first time. It was pretty magical. I think it's probably the best birthday present your dad has ever gotten.   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been very tired for the last few days - I'm having to train myself to go to bed earlier so that I get enough sleep for both of us. We kicked Nibbler the kitty out of our room last night, so we'll see if I'm less tired without her waking me up all night long. Somehow I suspect it will help. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We have another appointment at the end of June, and if we have an ultrasound after that, we'll have the option of finding out if you're a boy turtle or a girl turtle! We still haven't decided if we're going to find out yet or not. My mom says it's more fun to be surprised, but I think that maybe I want to know. Maybe I'll find out and your dad won't, or maybe he'll find out and I won't. In any case, we're not going to tell anyone else until you're born. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night for dinner we had asparagus pizza from Pagliacci. It was the tastiest way so far to get my daily dose of folic acid. Um yum! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You're now 2 1/2 inches long - I can't feel you moving yet, but I'm eagerly looking forward to the first time that I can. It's hard to believe you're getting so big so fast! Because my body hasn't changed a lot, it feels like you're still about the size of a grain of rice. Soon you'll be so big that I'll have trouble walking, eating, breathing, and sleeping, but I'm still very excited about your growing bigger. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love, &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mama&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2724985968439391754-4490878019946770602?l=dearturtle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dearturtle.blogspot.com/feeds/4490878019946770602/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2724985968439391754&amp;postID=4490878019946770602' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2724985968439391754/posts/default/4490878019946770602'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2724985968439391754/posts/default/4490878019946770602'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dearturtle.blogspot.com/2007/05/12-weeks-heartbeat.html' title='12 Weeks, heartbeat'/><author><name>Emily</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03076574489101548184</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2724985968439391754.post-8038137933860377160</id><published>2007-05-17T19:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-17T19:37:37.368-07:00</updated><title type='text'>11 Weeks</title><content type='html'>Dear Turtle, &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This week has been much easier for me than the last several have been. I've been working on a big boring project at work, but it's pretty low-stress so I've been feeling much more mellow. My nausea has been coming on in waves - I'll feel pretty good most of the day, and then suddenly I'll get violently ill for a few minutes, then it passes just as quickly as it came. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Belfor guys finally came and installed the kitchen floor. We've had nothing but the concrete sub-flooring in the kitchen for about 3 1/2 months, so we're very happy to have a real floor! We have a lot more to do around the house before our party in June, and even more to do before you arrive! Once we have the plumber come back and install the sink, and hang a new door in the bathroom, the downstairs will be done. At least for now. We might end up moving your dad's office down here so that you can have your nursery all to yourself. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We've been hard at work planning the party, which is now less than a month away. The most fun part so far was the cake tasting. We're also having a lot of fun getting RSVP cards back from people we've invited - it's really fun to find out who is coming! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The weather is lovely now - it's been sunny lately, and between 70 and 80 degrees in the afternoons. There's a gentle breeze blowing and the setting sun is reflected on Lake Union. I can see the rowers practicing out on the lake and just barely hear the coxswain calling out to them. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Your dad and I still haven't decided if we're going to find out if you're a boy or a girl. I desperately want to know, but we do know that if we do find out, we're going to keep it a secret until you arrive. I'm concerned that if we know, we'll slip-up and refer to you as a "he" or a "she" instead of a "the" or "it" and the secret will be out! My mom says it's more fun when it's a surprise (I was, your Uncle Colin wasn't) but I think I want to know. Maybe I'll know, but I'll have to keep it a secret from your dad! That would be tricky... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love, &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mama&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2724985968439391754-8038137933860377160?l=dearturtle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dearturtle.blogspot.com/feeds/8038137933860377160/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2724985968439391754&amp;postID=8038137933860377160' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2724985968439391754/posts/default/8038137933860377160'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2724985968439391754/posts/default/8038137933860377160'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dearturtle.blogspot.com/2007/05/11-weeks.html' title='11 Weeks'/><author><name>Emily</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03076574489101548184</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2724985968439391754.post-2021094772090671693</id><published>2007-05-09T19:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-09T21:06:40.357-07:00</updated><title type='text'>10 Weeks</title><content type='html'>Dear Turtle, &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This has been a stressful week for me at work. I'm not sure if it's the hormones or just that it's been a stressful week, but I've been taking a lot of deep breaths and venting to your dad to deal with it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We got a webcam for my computer at BestBuy this weekend. We've been using Skype to talk to my mom in Italy and my Grandpa in Poland. So far we've been able to see them, though the picture isn't great, but we haven't been able to get a picture of us here to upload. It's better than nothing, though, right? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My nausea has been getting better, bit by bit. Now instead of feeling sick all day long, I feel a little bit ill in the evenings and throw up most nights. All in all, I much prefer a few moments of intense nausea to feeling queasy and crummy all day long. We're keeping ziplock bags in the car for emergencies. They've come in handy more than once. It's better when I drive than when your dad drives, so I've been doing most of the driving when we're together. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We sent out invitations for our party in June on Monday. Today I made the payment for the pavillion at Gasworks Park so we have a place to hold our party. We got a KitchenAid food grinder to go with our mixer that we'll use to grind chuck for hamburgers, and we're also planning to use it to make baby food for you!! The plan is to cook and puree fresh veggies and fruits from the farmers markets this summer, then freeze them so that when you start eating solid food there will be lots of yummy, organic, in-season, and local tastes for you to try. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You're about 3 centimeters long now and you weigh about 4 grams. You're about to start growing really quickly, and we're excited that you're getting bigger every day!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love, &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mama&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2724985968439391754-2021094772090671693?l=dearturtle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dearturtle.blogspot.com/feeds/2021094772090671693/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2724985968439391754&amp;postID=2021094772090671693' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2724985968439391754/posts/default/2021094772090671693'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2724985968439391754/posts/default/2021094772090671693'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dearturtle.blogspot.com/2007/05/10-weeks.html' title='10 Weeks'/><author><name>Emily</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03076574489101548184</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2724985968439391754.post-6671221228986559558</id><published>2007-05-05T23:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-06T00:42:07.948-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='pregnancy'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='turtle'/><title type='text'>9 Weeks, Ultrasound!</title><content type='html'>Dear Turtle, &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You had your first picture taken on Thursday!! We went to the UW Med Center for an ultrasound and saw your for the very first time. It was very exciting for your dad and me. We could see your head, and two little white spots that are hands, and two more that are feet, and your umbilical cord, and we saw your heart beating!! It was ticking along at 160 beats per minute - you're tiny, but you're growing quickly and working hard! The technician measured you and you're just under an inch long now, and 9 weeks old. It's hard to imagine that you'll be getting bigger, and at an alarming rate, because up to this point you've been developing all your important organs, but you're still very small and have been growing in size slowly. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been craving egg salad sandwiches for lunch, and pizza or burritos for dinner. You're very particular, it seems: small smells set me off, and I've been very nauseous for the last two weeks. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We have gotten you some board books, and your dad is reading them to you. I especially like the Sandra Boynton ones that I remember from my childhood, like "But Not The Hippopotaums!" and "Moo, Baa, La La La". We rented a Baby Einstein video to check it out - we're thinking about getting some for you to keep you occupied so that I can take a shower once you get here. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm talking to your Grandma Amy online - she has internet at home in Italy now, but when her internet was installed her phone service was disconnected. She was excited to hear about your pictures, and is planning to come back to Seattle when you are born. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got new bras today, because my breasts are now too big for my pre-pregnancy bras. This is a big adjustment for me - up until this point, my breasts have been largely decorative. Now they're turning into functioning meal-servers for you, and they're getting big and sore. I'm really excited to breastfeed you, but I have to admit that I could go without the sore nipples for now. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Your dad has been writing to you too in a notebook I got for him. Some day I'll let you read the book that Grandpa George wrote to me in - it's really cool to know what he was thinking when Grandma Amy was pregnant with me, so I imagine you'll like reading what your dad and I are writing. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We love you, Turtle. You're growing quickly and we're excited to hear your heartbeat for the first time soon. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love, &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mama&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2724985968439391754-6671221228986559558?l=dearturtle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dearturtle.blogspot.com/feeds/6671221228986559558/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2724985968439391754&amp;postID=6671221228986559558' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2724985968439391754/posts/default/6671221228986559558'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2724985968439391754/posts/default/6671221228986559558'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dearturtle.blogspot.com/2007/05/9-weeks-ultrasound.html' title='9 Weeks, Ultrasound!'/><author><name>Emily</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03076574489101548184</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2724985968439391754.post-7195816438221210900</id><published>2007-04-21T13:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-21T13:38:11.704-07:00</updated><title type='text'>7 Weeks</title><content type='html'>Dear Turtle, &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, we caved. When we called to tell your dad's parents that we got married, we told them about you too. They didn't have much of reaction - Grandpa Gene said "Yippee!" and in my opinion, Grandma Barb's always been a little loopy and never quite responds to what  you say. So we'll see if she manages to keep it quiet. We told her we'd give her a call in June when it was ok to start telling people about you. Fingers crossed, eh?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You've been making me very queasy this past week. I've been drinking a lot of ginger ale to help calm my stomach. Your dad and I went to QFC and got 5 or 6 different kinds to try. So far, I've noticed that the ones with real ginger are less ginger-y and more soothing than the ones with "natural and artificial flavors". &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You've also been making me very tired - sometimes I go to bed at 7:00 and sleep until 6:30 the next morning! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Your dad and I have had fun picking out books for you. Last week we got Each Peach Pear Plum, which was one of my favorites as a kid. We also got you a onesie at Costco yesterday that has turtles on it, with a little pair of light green pants to match. I told Grandpa George and he said, "you know, you can't actually get a TURTLE, right?" which of course we knew. Turtles can make babies sick! Maybe when you're older, though. You're certainly not getting a puppy, that's for sure. Maybe we'll get you your own kitty when you're old enough. Scrumpy Jack is Daddy's kitty, and Nibbler is my kitty. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On Friday we go to the doctor and you will have your first picture taken! I'm a little nervous about the needles (because I'll have to have blood drawn for lots of tests) but we're very excited to see you for the first time. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love, &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mama&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2724985968439391754-7195816438221210900?l=dearturtle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dearturtle.blogspot.com/feeds/7195816438221210900/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2724985968439391754&amp;postID=7195816438221210900' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2724985968439391754/posts/default/7195816438221210900'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2724985968439391754/posts/default/7195816438221210900'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dearturtle.blogspot.com/2007/04/7-weeks.html' title='7 Weeks'/><author><name>Emily</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03076574489101548184</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2724985968439391754.post-2559375220173938171</id><published>2007-04-13T23:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-13T23:40:13.262-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Dear Turtle, &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I talked to your Grandma Amy today. She's living in Italy right now and is sad that she'll be so far away when you will be a little baby. Talking to her makes being pregnant easier for me - I can talk to her about all of my concerns and fears and questions, and she reassures me and tells me about her pregnancies, which makes me feel much better. She has a lot of good suggestions for me, too! We talked about how and when to start telling people about you, and also how to deal with their reactions. I think it will certainly be an exercise in boundary-setting! I'm very excited that you are on your way, and when my belly starts looking more like a pregnant lady it will be very cool and make you seem more "real" (and also more imminent!!), but I'm worried that people will want to touch me, or just reach out and put their hands on my belly. We talked about strategies to deal with that - &lt;br /&gt;1) Step back, looking horrified. Cross arms over chest/belly. Say, "Don't touch me!"&lt;br /&gt;2) Grab offending hand. Ask, "What ARE you doing?"&lt;br /&gt;3) Reach out and touch their belly. Say, "Oh, I thought we were touching each other inappropriately and unwelcomed. Is that not the thing?"&lt;br /&gt;4) Strategically placed mouse traps. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been knitting some baby clothes. I'm not sure if you're going to be a boy turtle or a girl turtle, so right now I'm picking colors that are gender-neutral. This means green, mostly, which is the color that turtles are!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You've been making me feel queasy, but I'm not throwing up yet. I sent your dad on an errand to get ginger ale for me. It's supposed to be good for upset stomachs, and as soon as I read that I had an unbelievably strong craving for some. Last time I had a craving it was for dried apricots. Your dad brought home three different kinds because I threatened to not let him in if he forgot to bring them home with him after work, and I guess he didn't want to get it wrong and risk the pregnant-lady wrath. Your dad has been a really wonderful, caring, and attentive partner. He's been getting up before me to make me toast and eggs for breakfast so that I have a good start to my day, and plenty of protein so you can grow big and strong and healthy. He just came home with the ginger-ale and when he opened it it fizzed all over - oops! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been reading lots of blogs and writing about being pregnant and having a baby. Some of it is helpful and some of it terrifies me. Occasionally, I have to remind myself that I have taken care of infants before and loved it, and that they weren't difficult and they didn't scream non-stop. Sometimes I think the world is out to scare pregnant women!! I'm not sure why, but there's a lot of scary stuff out there! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My hair and fingernails are growing quite quickly, and my hair feels thicker and shinier than it has in the past. I suppose it's a nice bonus for me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tomorrow we are going to tell your dad's parents that we got married. We're not sure how they'll react to the news. We're a little concerned that people will assume that we got married because we found out we are having you, which isn't the case. We're planning to tell them now about the wedding, and then in June about you. It's been very hard to keep you a secret, but I am not so sure that I trust your Grandma Barb not to let the secret out!! She has a way of spreading news quickly, and we're keeping you a secret from everyone but my parents and brother (and the doctors) until June 6th. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been very tired and sleeping a lot lately. Your dad tried to wake me up for dinner earlier this week, and I tried to throw things at him. I don't think he'll be trying that again any time soon! All my books say to enjoy my sleep now while I can, because soon you'll be moving around in my uterus and the after you're born I'll have to feed you every 2 hours, so I won't get much sleep. I'm taking advantage of the fact that you're still tiny and sleeping on my front while I still can. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's really fun reading my book and finding out what parts of you are growing each week and imagining you inside me. I think you'll seem more like an actual turtle and less like a turtle that only exists in my head when we go to the doctor in 2 weeks for my first ultrasound. We are very eager to see you for the very first time!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love, &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mama&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2724985968439391754-2559375220173938171?l=dearturtle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dearturtle.blogspot.com/feeds/2559375220173938171/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2724985968439391754&amp;postID=2559375220173938171' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2724985968439391754/posts/default/2559375220173938171'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2724985968439391754/posts/default/2559375220173938171'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dearturtle.blogspot.com/2007/04/dear-turtle-i-talked-to-your-grandma.html' title=''/><author><name>Emily</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03076574489101548184</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2724985968439391754.post-7575057660954005452</id><published>2007-04-10T20:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-10T21:15:41.341-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='pregnancy'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='turtle'/><title type='text'>6 Weeks</title><content type='html'>Dear Turtle, &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last week your dad and I found out we were pregnant with you. As near as we can figure, you were conceived on the 17th of March, 2007. I took a test last Tuesday morning and was so excited (and terrified, and giddy, and dizzy!) when I saw the word "pregnant" pop up on the display screen. Your dad was still in bed, so I went in and showed him the test. He was pretty calm when I told him. Of course, your dad is always calm about everything (except when I want to pull stray hairs out of his back). Your Uncle Colin was staying with us when we found out, but we didn't tell him right away. We went to the University Bookstore later that morning to get some books - some for us, and some for you! I picked out Goodnight, Moon and Pat the Bunny for you. Your dad choose Hippos Go Beserk! by Sandra Boynton - it's about counting, and your dad wants you to be good at math like he is. I know you'll be brilliant (how could you not be, with parents like us?) but we'll love you no matter what kind of smart you are. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You've been making me HUNGRY all the time - I feel like I have to eat practically every two hours!! At this point you're about 1/4" long, but you need a LOT of energy! I don't have any cravings yet, but my books assure me they'll kick in. I feel like I'm tempting fate just writing this, but SO FAR, I haven't had much morning sickness. The nurse at the UW Medical Center said that morning sickness usually happens later - starting sometime between 6 and 8 weeks and continuing through 12 or 14. Half of all pregnant women don't get sick, though, and I'm hoping I'll be one of the lucky ones. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We've been calling you "the Turtle" because we don't know yet if you're a boy or girl and we've been imagining you swimming around in my uterus with your little flippers. Last weekend we went to Target and found a bib with a Turtle on it. We couldn't resist buying it for you - our little turtle!! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We told my parents (your Grandma Amy and Grandpa George) and your Uncle Colin, but no one else yet. We've decided to start telling people in early June. Your Uncle Colin didn't believe us at first, but your grandparents were very excited to hear that you were on the way. My mom even started crying! She assured me they were happy tears. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Your dad and I went to Canada last weekend with your Uncle Colin. On the way there and back, we read through a baby name book in the car. I read the names I liked out loud, and then your dad voted up or down. Colin in the back seat offered comments - something you should thank him for, by the way. He talked us out of a few names that, in retrospect, would probably not be a good idea for you. We think that we want to give you "George" as one of your names after your Grandpa George if you're a boy. We're liking "Elizabeth" if you're a girl. We want to give you a name that will be easy for others to spell and pronounce, but that not everyone in your class will have. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Your dad has been reading to you before we go to bed at night. You won't even start to have ears until next week, but we figure it's never too early to start reading to you!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mostly, we are all so excited that you're on your way, and we love you very much! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love, &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mama&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2724985968439391754-7575057660954005452?l=dearturtle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dearturtle.blogspot.com/feeds/7575057660954005452/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2724985968439391754&amp;postID=7575057660954005452' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2724985968439391754/posts/default/7575057660954005452'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2724985968439391754/posts/default/7575057660954005452'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dearturtle.blogspot.com/2007/04/6-weeks.html' title='6 Weeks'/><author><name>Emily</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03076574489101548184</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
