margaret diane stewart

April 27, 2010 brought us our beautiful, beautiful baby girl.

She's perfect.

Labor was fun.

Adam is my favorite.

And I'm feeling overwhelmingly grateful.

paid my due (date)

40 Weeks

Photo by co-worker/friend Dave Blackhurst

OK, little girl. You can come out now. 

Your mom and dad are ready for you.

couldn't be happier

Just when I think I can't love you more, you keep proving me wrong.

Happy 30th Birthday, Adam! 

I love you. I love you. And I love you. 

 These are from when we were dating. 

I loved (and love) a man who can have fun with the Photo Booth app.

35 and counting

35 Weeks

Photo by co-worker/friend Dave Blackhurst

FIVE weeks until my due date.

FOUR contractions a day (give or take).

THREE charlie horses a night.

TWO finishing touches left to the nursery.

ONE picture of pregnant Bri (with a head) for those of you who were worried.

it's a miracle

 Erin knit these perfectly purple booties for the baby. 

They're the cutest. The absolute cutest.

We watched "The Miracle of Birth" in our hospital prenatal class last night. And by watched, I of course mean with my eyes closed.

But there were glimpses, people. Oh, there were glimpses. 

And for the first time in my pregnancy, I got a wee bit nervous about this whole, you know, giving birth thing. Up until now, I've been 100 percent excited about my pending trip to the hospital. And I still am. But those feelings of excitement are now accompanied by butterflies flown amok. I mean ... it looks ... ummm ... ouch. 

But what it comes down to is this: In five (ish) weeks, this little daughter of mine (please, oh, please be little) is going to get her cute self here — no ifs, ands or hee-hee-hoos about it. And after much thought (and not so much sleep), I've decided it's simply a matter of will.

Will labor hurt? (Duh.)
Will I be nervous? (No doubt.)

Will I be in good spirits? (Yes, please.)

Will Adam grow a mullet like the dad in the video? (No, thank you.)

Will I know what I'm doing? (Probably not, but that's probably OK.) 
Will Adam eat onions before helping me hee-hee-hoo? (He's promised not to.)  
Will the event be videotaped for "The Miracle of Birth: 2010"? (Thank heavens, no.)

Will flavored ice chips be all I imagine them to be? (Debatable, I'm sure.)
Will Adam be a rock star birth partner? (Don't I know it.)
Will labor be cute? (That would be a no.)
Will labor be beautiful? (Definitely.)

And hey ... I've got my health. I've got my hips. And in the end, I've got my girl. 

Miracle, indeed.  

30-week musings

30 Weeks

Photo by co-worker/friend Dave Blackhurst

* I have 66 days left until my due date. Say what?

* This little girl is a kicking fool. Apparently, she doesn't want me to forget about her. (Not a chance, sweets.)

* Random strangers have yet to touch my stomach in public. I realize I should be grateful for this, but is it weird I feel slightly offended I don't inspire people toward uncontrollable belly pats? (I'm thinkin' it's weird.)

* I want to meet her. Like, now.

* When we were sitting on the couch a couple weeks ago, Adam turned to me and said, "Wow. You're looking all pregnant and stuff." (How observant of you, hon.)

* Will she have red hair? How fun would that be?

* I'm starting to get really pumped about giving birth.

* We purchased a pistachio rocker recliner — with adorbs white piping — for the nursery, and I constantly find myself sitting in it and daydreaming. (I'm a cliche, folks. It's official.)

* I've caught myself waddling on occasion. (It begins ...)

* Adam regularly talks to my stomach, and it makes me all smitten and stuff.

* I've really, really loved being pregnant. It's been quite kind to me, which I so don't take for granted.

* Remember how I'm going to be a mom in 66-ish days? Say what?

the nursery — phase 1

Is there anything more attractive than your husband, dressed in coveralls, handily creating the perfect nursery?

I submit that there is not.
Adam worked SO hard putting up beadboard in our baby girl's room. And it looks like a pro did it. He cut, he measured, he framed, he caulked, he used manly, manly tools (they were, like, totally loud and stuff) — and I seriously can't stop gazing at it.

I'm in love, I tell you. Love. (With the nursery and the coverall cutie.)

Below is a sneak peek at Adam's handy work. He got the wall up, and then we got our paint on together.

Phase 2? Decor, baby.
Oh, and these pictures SO don't do the room justice.