Saturday, May 29, 2010

Pickles and ice cream, please - hold the pickles

So far I'd like to say that I've had a fairly atypical pregnancy. No massive emotional highs and lows, no strange cravings, only a few nights spent kneeling before a white, porcelain bowl. I'll be 17 weeks in two days, and I can still fit in all my old clothes (with the help of the Bella Band). People have told me so many things about pregnancy - some were right on; others were way off. But there's a few things I'm realizing that no one told me, and I kinda wish I'd known. And so I begin.

Things they never told me. Part I.

-They never told me I was going to feel a bit insecure when I got to about 4 months pregnant. People who don't see me much surely must wonder what I've been up to, assume I've been dining out more at select fast food restaurants. And since it's terribly uncouth to ask if a woman is pregnant, I never get to set the record straight.
-They never told me everyone has a different opinion on how big my belly is supposed to be. Some people pat my belly and comment on how big I'm going to get if I'm showing already. Others sort of squint, tilt their heads sideways and say, "That's all you got?" There is no belly size measurement tool to which I can refer to prove that I am right where I'm supposed to be so I have to smile and say something in my defense, graciously as I can.
-They never told me that I would do all sorts of things to try to feel my baby moving around. So far I've tried lying on my stomach, lying on my back, pressing all my abdominal organs inward, and various other mild acrobatics. If I really get desperate, I can drink Sprite, lay very still, at
some unknown time switch to laying on my stomach while simultaneously playing music to my belly and standing on my head. The past couple days I had moments where I thought I might have felt him, but it also could've been my own heartbeat, or food moving through my intestines.
They say it's magical to feel your child for the first time, but so far, I've just been confused.
-They never told me I'd feel compelled to wear tight shirts and play up bloating or post-meal moments to feel/look more pregnant. At this stage in the pregnancy, I plan my outfits around what makes me look prego, not porky.
-They never told me I would feel so much better in the second trimester that I would wonder if my baby was still alive in there. Thank goodness for the little heartbeat doppler - which happens to look quite similar to Zach Morris' cell phone - which assured me that baby is alive and well, hanging out next to my bladder with a heartbeat of 159 bpm. Not bad, baby. Keep it up. But if you could swim a few inches north, maybe I could spend less time in the bathroom. Thanks. Love you.

Friday, May 7, 2010

One of those girls

I swear. I'm trying to be discreet and somewhat nonchalant about this whole growing a kid thing. (Even though I really do think it is a big, huge deal.) Or at least I'm trying not to play up the part where my belly gets big, and I have to start adjusting my wardrobe. But pregnancy is, indeed, getting the best of my figure so I might as well embrace it. If you're interested in seeing the horizontal progression of my midsection, you can click here. Otherwise, the rest of this post is just some amusing observations I made about my own early pregnancy sillyness. Maybe other pregos can relate. Maybe not. Either way, it's always good to laugh at yourself.

19 April 2010

Some things I’ve been up to as a first-time prego:

-Buying a belly band at 7 weeks. Right. As if that "bump" is anything but last night’s enchilada. You’re bloated, baby. Get over it. I decided to break it in that same night I bought it. It was way too early for it and my pants kept riding up. Pretty sure that’s not the point. Belly band retired.

-Wore the belly band again at 10 weeks. I’m sure the rounding of my abdomen could be due to nothing other than a full set of intestines, once again, but I didn’t feel like working with my pants today so on it went.

-Trying to get the same amount of sleep I got before pregnancy and getting confused when I’m tired. Well, not confused. But whiny. I know; that’s way worse. Ask Josh – he has to live with it.

-Attributing most emotions, fatigue, pains, aches and general brain fog to pregnancy. I’m smart enough to know that I couldn’t finish most sentences before I was pregnant, much less find my keys every morning, but part of me still thinks this forgetfulness could, maybe, be hormone-related. Let’s blame it all on that.

-Making peace with weight gain. No, one better. I’m welcoming it. Granted, I want it to be mostly in the bust and belly area. Not in the thighs or behind, thank you. But most body changes that don’t cause discomfort or nausea are welcomed as a part of this big, mysterious season called pregnancy. Does my hair look shinier? Are my nails stronger? Of course they are. I’m pregnant.

-Checking myself out for the glow. I don’t think I have it yet, but I’m working on it. I’m really pulling for the second trimester. That’s when I start to show so I might as well look good while I’m overcoming rumors of sudden weight gain.

-Rubbing my belly all the time. I’m not sure why really. It’s not like I think it’s good luck and there’s not much there to rub. Pretty sure the almost-fetus can’t feel it anyway. But it’s what pregnant woman do, I think. I’ve seen it in the movies. So I guess I’ll keep doing it. Helps me feel pregnant since I sure don’t look it, belly band or not.

-Naming the little after the fruit he or she resembles each week. Started out as a blueberry. Then a raspberry. Then an olive. (Are they different sizes?) Well, now he/she’s a prune, minus all the wrinklies. How adorable – I know, I thought so too.

-Thinking about food almost all the time and getting pretty selfish too. Seriously. Isn’t this season about preparing to love a baby and sacrifice your sleep and tears and raw everything for him or her? So how am I getting away with being a primadonna for nine months, or at least the past several weeks? I’m going to have to quit this. I’m thinking it will happen when the kid starts kicking me in the middle of the night. Maybe then I’ll realize this is not about me. Until then, looks like I’ll be frequenting Vista Burger and alternating between soft serve and cherry limeades. Or on a good day, both.

-Refraining from booze, smokes and illicit drugs. Gotta give a little. Thought folks should know I’ve made this commitment.

-Not eating healthy food much at all. My breakfast of bacon and an over-sized blueberry pancake are laughing that I once planned to raise my child on “things white people like”, i.e., organic everything.

-Paying attention to what I can do well. (This is a good way to spend time, I think.) A friend of mine said this could be evidence of the baby’s giftings and talents. I thought I sang an Enya song particularly well today while I was laying out the wash to dry. Since I’m pretty sure a musician is brewing in my depths, I’m going to attribute the ability to hit all those high notes to him. Since I think it’s a him, but really, if it’s a her, I’m happy. Baby, whatever you are, I’m happy for you. Promise.

Wednesday, May 5, 2010

The news

This is the little human I'm working on. Actually looks like a baby already at 13 weeks. No wonder I'm so tired all the time.

For those of you who aren't so savvy with identifying these sorts of pictures - I never was - here's a quick tutorial: you can see the head is in the lower left, then his little belly/abdomen are on the right. His little legs are on the far right. What probably looks like bubbles coming out of his mouth is actually the umbilical cord. Anyway, the little person is healthy, got all his parts so far. Yay.

Sunday, May 2, 2010

Me and Bear

Things I have in common with my new pup, Bear:
We both have brown hair.
We like the outdoors.
We know a weird smell when we smell one, and we are often moved to investigate.
We both eat too fast. He has me beat for sure though.
We both have very small bladders.
We both like to play.
We both get tired easily and require much rest.
We can be distracted by fast movements and shiny things. He's worse than me though.
We both like Josh the best.
We both have a touch love language and are quite cuddly.

Things we do not have in common:
I do not chew on cardboard, shoes or belts.
I do not bite toes.
I do not pee on the carpet.
I do not bark at my reflection in the dishwasher, although I don't really like loading it. Does that count?
I am not very happy when asked to fetch things.

We have more things in common than not. Not sure what that says about me, but I think it means that he makes a great member of our family.