Registered

Baby registry fave so far. This kid is gonna be a sharp dressed little man to be sure.

Only a little over four months til he gets here. I was told by my co-worker, Evelyn, that I've started nesting. I'm not exactly sure what the symptoms are, but apparently I'm in. In my defense, Josh has been buying baby clothes almost every chance he gets. So far, he's bought jammies, socks, a hat and a Beatles onesie. I only bought baby clothes once, then I cut myself off since I knew all the friends and family would want to buy those first. So far, I've been right. Last weekend I received pint-sized gear from both grandma's and my cousin. And so it begins.

In other news, I'm experiencing the joys of finally being recognized a pregnant person. Co-workers, patients, friends and acquaintances are reaching out to pat my expanding belly or congratulate me on looking pregnant, sort of. Recently I thought to eliminate any ambiguity as to what is behind my protruding waistline by designing a t-shirt with the tag line, "Baby, not beer". This may not be necessary though, as I'm reaching the 5 month mark which, from what I hear, is when the inevitable "pop" occurs. I go from looking possibly pregnant to positively pregnant. I'm really going to try embrace the pregnant me, wear the glow and bump with pride. I'm going to remember that I've been jealous of all visibly pregnant people up to now, thought they were adorable. I'm about to be that adorable pregnant girl. Will I get insecure about a misshapen body or will I enjoy my new life-giving curves? For my friends who are reading, please remind me that I've gotten exactly what I wanted, if by chance I whine about maternity pants and feeling fat. Oh, and you can also remind me that as I grow, baby grows too. And that's a good thing.

Here is our baby boy. Saving the name announcement til his birth. Gotta have a surprise left.

Little foot. Amazing that all this can happen without me supervising. God is good at His job. That's all I can say.

I heard the news today, oh boy!

Feels good to be right. Pictures to follow.

Okay, I'm just going to put this out there. I think I'm having a boy. I'm certain anyone reading this blog already knows that, but this is more for posterity's sake, I suppose. The majority of my friends and family agree with me - good job, guys. Don't want to make the pregnant lady angry, do you? I have a couple friends who are dissenting, voting for a girl, but I think it's just because they want to get a rise out of me. I have lots of good reasons for thinking it's a boy, but I'm not going to go into them now. Just one is standing out to me since the past week.

Last night my friend, who is also pregnant, texted me and asked if I was feeling any "fluttering" in the belly region. Although I'd been waiting so long to feel the baby, I'd forgotten to tell her that I actually had. I responded that yes, I was feeling the baby, but later realized that she had used that funny word: "fluttering". Baby websites tell you that you may feel this sensation so I was prepared for the feeling of a butterfly farm taking up residence in my abdomen. Not the case. It feels more like a mix between a bubble and a gentle rumble. This is why I think my baby is a boy. Boys don't flutter. Boys tumble, fall, bump into things. Whoever is in my belly right now is randomly bumping around from side to side. Maybe he's building a tree house or playing soccer. I don't know. But I'll find out in a week when I get another professional look at my insides. And this will confirm, I'm sure, my suspicions. But if not, I will be happily - very - surprised.

Finally...

As I've said earlier, for the first time mum, actually looking prego is an art: See what I mean. A good meal (i.e. a McFlurry and curly fries) and the right clothes can make all the difference.

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.

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.