Driving home from our appointment today (everything looks great--it was amazing to see her breathing, which my doctor says is a great sign of a happy baby), I saw a sign along the side of the road advertising "Boxer Pups". I grew up with a Boxer, and I absolutely adore the breed. I'm convinced that they are the most playful, loving, protective, goofy, beautiful dogs ever. Okay, okay--everyone is entitled to their own preferences, but for me--I love Boxers. Around this time last year, I would have pointed and waved to my husband who was driving home behind me and called him and begged and pleaded for him to get me one. But as much as I love Boxers, it dawned on me that I'm at a totally different place in my life with a whole new set of priorities.
As if to tug at my heartstrings just a little bit more to see if I truly was ready to postpone the dream of having my own Boxer, a few minutes later as I turned onto our street, I noticed that the Boxer belonging to our neighbor a few houses down from us had gotten out. Much like my Boxer from my childhood, this one made a quick get-away with the two teenage boys chasing after. I waited to make sure that they got him home okay, smiling to myself the whole time as I reminisced about all of the times when I had to chase our dog down (she really was an amazing dog--despite her tendency to make a run for it whenever a door was left open).
It really was sweet to see the neighborhood dog in action, but at this point in my life, I want to focus my time and energy on our Baby Girl. I absolutely loved having my dog curl up to me, but I think I'll enjoy the touch of our Baby Girl that much more. I loved the walks I took with her, but I'd rather have a stroller in front of me than a leash. I will always love Boxers--and I do look forward to having one again someday, but I think that it will be when our Baby Girl is old enough to appreciate them and ask for one herself (and help out with the responsibility of raising a puppy). So for now, I'll let go of the wish for a Boxer puppy, and instead, await the upcoming arrival of our Baby Girl.
Today's blessing was simply being able to see our Baby Girl again today. She is still head-down and looking good. When my doctor measured my funal height, I initially measured at 33 weeks, even though I'm 34 weeks. This, of course, worried me a bit--which I think my doctor picked up on. Upon looking at my belly again, she mentioned that she thought perhaps I was experiencing a Braxton-Hicks contraction the first time, thus making my belly tighter (and thus smaller). So she measured again, and I was back to 34 weeks. I realize it's not an exact science, but I really do pray that our Baby Girl is getting all of the nutrients that she needs. I gained 1-1/2 pounds in the last two weeks, which my doctor said is totally fine, but it doesn't seem like a lot. So I convinced my husband to take me out to dinner at an all-you-can-eat salad bar type of place, where I loaded up on the veggies...then the soup and breadsticks...then the dessert. I don't want to go overboard, but I want to ensure that I'm getting enough nutrients for both me and our Baby Girl. Please pray that she continues to grow big and strong.