Wedded

The blessed day came and went and now these two lovelies are forever wedded.

Is it too soon for me to say that I am glad the wedding is over? Poor taste? Probably.

Our house turned into wedding planning headquarters (nuff said). Combine this with a lack of sleep, too much estrogen, and an ever expanding waist and hormone level and I was not the loveliest of people to be around by the end of the week. I think two emotional breakdowns (over who  knows what) is not too bad, right? Yes, I realize I was not the bride, but we all have our moments.  

The upside was Chris was home for 10 blessed days!!! It was incredible. We also got to see all of the Herman family, including my newest niece who runs screaming in the other direction if I look at her the wrong way. She'll learn.

The wedding was beautiful. The couple was stunning. The company couldn't be beat. I have slept a full eight hours the last few nights and my sanity has returned. 

All is well.

Some pics from the day. (I have noticed that my face is filling out. Oh joy)

The bride and her bridesmaids. I heard one of them was knocked up...scandalous.

We were all very impressed with these shoes. I was mostly impressed that I survived.

BFF's

Chris was concerned with how short he looked next to me with my monster heels, so he stood on a planter for this picture.

Me and my mother-in-law. Love her.

The end.

Cougs

Way to go Cougs for pulling a win out of the hat, when quite honestly, we were all betting against you.

So much so, that Chris is out five bucks to his dad because of the upset. I am just glad they won since we had Chris' family in town and this was probably the last game Chris and I will attend for the foreseeable future.

Rise and shout. 

Halfway and a Birthday

We celebrated the hub's big 2-6 with a trip to the OB. Every man's dream.

We spent the rest of the day wedding planning and picking out tuxedos for his brother's wedding this weekend. I would say it was pretty much his best birthday ever.

Here is the obligatory 20 week picture. Yes, I am wearing maternity jeans (although I don't usually wear them with a see-through shirt) and I an in love. I may switch to an elastic band policy for all clothing here on out--pregnant or not.

We got to see the babe at this appointment during our in-depth ultrasound.

I am happy to report that Baby Herman is happy...healthy...

...and very much a GIRL! We were shocked. I had the tech check again and then still couldn't believe it. I was 100% convinced it was a boy. I have absolutely no maternal instinct.

Here we are after the happy news. Parents-to be.

Potty Emergency

Does anyone remember the episode of the Animaniacs entitled Potty Emergency? It is the one where Wakko is about to explode but cannot find a bathroom anywhere (what a great show). For some strange reason, this episode is engrained in my memory.

Maybe it's because I knew that someday my life would become a potty emergency. It is an exaggeration to say I have to go to the bathroom every five minutes. But seriously, not by much. Maybe every thirty. Every time time I stand up after sitting for longer than five minutes I have to go. I always thought this was an exaggeration on the part of pregnant women, but no, it's true and quite ridiculous. I am not even that big yet--I think I am in for a world of hurt these next few months.

On a completely unrelated note, I realized today that a shirt I have owned and worn religiously for years, I have been wearing backwards this whole time. I like it a lot better facing in the correct direction. Go figure.

Fenway

Chris spent yesterday evening  at a company outing to Fenway Park, sucking down ballpark franks and Coke Classic while enjoying the great American pastime.

Blackberry pic

I spent my evening doing laundry, P90X*, and the grocery shopping.

Who says life is fair?

*Don't be any kind of impressed with my pregnancy fitness. This workout was followed closely by a hamburger fix. Half of the reason I went grocery shopping was so that I could justify my burger purchase on the way home.

Shape Shifter

I have noticed in the last week that my stomach has taken on a life of its own. At any given moment in time, my belly transforms. On Monday morning, I woke up to a torpedo lodged in my lower abdomen. Later that day, I was all love handles and no belly. That night, I felt like I barely looked pregnant at all. Sometimes I am huge and sometimes I look almost normal.

People at work must think I am on some crazy binge-purge diet where I consistently fluctuate between weights. So, for what it's worth, here is a picture of me at eighteen weeks.I have no idea if this is really what I look like most of the time, but this is how I looked when mi madre took the picture.

In other news, I was feeling particularly skeptical of this irreversible life choice I made yesterday at work when my boss told me that his assistant would be needed for a company event on a cruise to the Caribbean in Febraury and in Phuket in the Fall of next year. All day long, I was thinking that it just might be possible to move to New York, have a baby, have a husband who travels two weeks out of the month and still keep my job in Provo. Cake walk, really.

Then as I was lying in bed wondering if I was ready for all of these changes I received a series of swift kicks in utero that put things into a bit more perspective. I think (and hope and pray) that this will be worth the postponed career. After all, what's a cruise when you could be in labor or a trip to Thailand when you could be changing a diaper in the great state of New York?

Seventeen

So, between yesterday and today I think the belly bulge is starting to look a little more pregnant and not quite so flabby. Here is the progress so far:

12 weeks. Someday that will be me again, right?

14 weeks..the thickening of the waist begins.

15 weeks

17 weeks. I feel like I exploded. I know, it's in my head.

Apology

So apparently my previous post was gross. My bad. I am kind of a gross person.

Sorry if I offended anyone other than my weak-stomached husband with the toilet picture. :)

Scenes of a graphic nature

I have not had much to write about this week. On Saturday Chris told me that he enjoys reading my blog from the road (Rhode Island to be exact...I kill myself) and since then I feel like the pressure is on. I mean, who knew he even read it? Now I have to be dazzling and witty to entice him to come home to me every weekend.

Regardless of this scrutiny, I thought I would share with you some of the random thoughts running through my head on this cloudy, gray Thursday.

First, pregnancy thus far.

Yep, that's my crotch. If you read the title, consider yourself warned. And yes, that is a belly band that I am fully rocking as an undershirt. Because, let's be honest how many of you were buttoning your size four jeans at 16 1/2 weeks? Let's be even more honest, how often was I really buttoning them before I got pregnant? Ummm, try never...size four, really? (There are some of you who have long been privvy to my "secretly" always unbuttoned pants...life is so much more comfortable that way.)

The reason that you have not seen any full-body shots is because I do not look pregant yet, simply bloated. The joy. I keep hoping that I will "pop" so I don't have to keep coming up with burlap-sack type outfits for work every day.

Next, the toilets at work.

Once again, you were warned. Ok, this is a topic that I have long wanted to air my grievances about. These are quite possibly the worst toilets ever. See the wads of toilet paper that refused to be flushed-- as gross as this is, that is not even my toilet paper. These must be some kind of "water saving" deals because the bowl only ever fills about once inch deep, so anything you want going down has to be flung behind you. Sick, I know. And every stall looks like this by about 10 am. I think we should make a pact among the 3rd floor women using this restroom that we will always fling our toliet paper behind us to avoid this monstrosity. I mean I spend a lot of time in those stalls.

In other news, how was our Labor Day you ask? Oh, it was wonderful, thanks for caring. We spent Satruday at the pool, at Men's Warehouse, and at the Timpanogos Storytelling Festival listening to a British lady tell stories about "Fahrts"--it was awesome.

On Monday we bbq'd and celebrated the arrival of Chris' graduation present--the entire collection of Lost. We re-watched the finale and I cried just as much this time, but now I have an excuse.

Until I can think of anything else intelligent or inappropriate to write...

What's in a name?

(My legit name plate at work)

For some reason, it dawned on me today that I finally think of myself first and foremost as Erika Herman. Yesterday I ran into a friend from Freshman year and he called me Erika Abbott. I didn't really think anything of it, but later I realized that not only do I not think of Abbott as my last name anymore, but more amazingly, I am okay with my last name not being Abbott.

Is it weird that it took me almost three years to come to this resolution? Granted, it did take me one full year after marriage to even consider changing my name. Sorry, but 'Herman' versus 'Abbott?' Please. Pee Wee, anyone?

Chris was even okay with me keeping my maiden name until he found out it wasn't some civil rights thing, but simply that I thought his last name was ugly. Sorry babe. But, I no longer do, so now you can forgive me, right?

I guess I really am growing up. How long did it take most of you to get over your maiden name? And if you say two weeks, you will only make me feel like a crappy wife. :)