It's Alive (& Kicking)!

So I've been feeling the baby move for quite awhile now, starting around 13 weeks I think (going on 23 now). The other day she got hiccups (or was beating out a rhythm on my organs), which was kinda weird and funny.

Today while sitting at the computer I had one hand on my belly and felt her kick especially hard and saw my hand move in my perephial vision so I pulled up my top and this time I SAW her kick... or at least the bulging of my stomach in reaction to it. Super cool, but also kinda creepy. Another "is this pregnancy or a scene from Aliens" moment. This has been a owner occcupied only body for 35 years, it's kinda weird to have another being sharing it with me now.

We're headed to Barra de Navidad Mexico Wednesday through the weekend for a babymoon/birthday party. Will be nice to catch up on some of the sun I missed while stuck on the couch this summer being sick. Haven't spent much time there since I a) grew up in southern California which is not hugely different in parts from Mexico, and b) can't stand most Mexican food. I'm glad that I have the excuse of being pregnant to be picky about food at least, otherwise I'd be eating a heck of a lot of quesadillas!

Met with a couple of doulas today. I like the idea of having someone who is there just to take care of me (and Brooke) while the midwife is focused more on the baby. She'd be here at the house with us when labor begins all the way through the whole ordeal helping to keep me focused, calm, and as pain free as possible (hah!). One can always hope.

I am totally full from an awesome seared ahi tuna wasabi salad... but I can't stop thinking about the giant ripe pomegranates down in the kitchen. Mmmmmm....

Congratulations! It's a.... Freak!

How about breast feeding this one?!!?

So, we had our second trimester ultrasound on November 1st, and aside from checking the regular stuff (heart, lung, size, weight development), we also got to check out Spawn's junk... or in our case, the lack thereof. If you can't tell by the demon baby all dressed in pink in the photo, it turns out Spawn is a girl! It's funny, we were hoping for a boy, but both felt that it was a girl. Bring on the pink... ugh.

We were hoping for a boy because we both find that boy type toys are more fun to play with, however I had "boy" type toys growing up, so perhaps that will work for our daughter too. No Barbie dolls for me, I preferred my microscope, erector set, Leggos and climbing trees. I did however like to play dress up and "make over" (not hard to believe for everyone who's ever met me I suppose) so I wasn't a total tomboy. One of the neighbor girls I used to practice on was in Playboy (the brunette), which I take total credit for, even if the last time I saw her she was six and we had to use tennis balls to fill out her bathing suit.

I also HATE the color pink. I hate the image it represents, a girly girl, all demure and subservient, princess like and helpless, just sitting around doing her nails and hair and waiting for a man to come and rescue her from herself. A girl who wears pink wouldn't be thought to know how to change her own tire or carry a Swiss Army knife or know how to use a compound miter saw. I know this is just a stereotype, but images can have power, and how we present ourselves to others colors their perception of us and how they treat us, and in return how we think of ourselves.

Why does it seem that most baby related stuff is either pink or blue? I mean everything... from bottles, to pads you kneel on by the tub to bathe them, to bedding, even little tickers you can post on your website to do a countdown to "Eviction Day" are themed either blue or pink with icons of teddy bears, balloons, flowers or a Smith & Wesson Model 29 .44 cal magnum revolver (ha! Kidding about the last one... I hope). What's wrong with earth tones?!!? Is it really so important to impose a rigid gender identity on your child before it's even born?

I have found more neutral toned baby items than I thought I would. I was afraid I'd be relegated to either pink/blue pastels or neon bright primary colors unless we shopped in expensive European stores. Even BabiesRUs had some things that didn't make me cringe at the thought of having in my home (of course I'm not talking about the children who were running amok through the store like it was a Chuck E Cheese during free double shot espresso hour). I actually rather like this Zen collection and hope it's not crap that just looks good.

So, now I have to get used to the idea of having a girl. I hear they're easier on the house and such in the beginning at least, but of course make up for that when they're teens. I was a rather stubborn pain in the ass as a kid, but at least I didn't do drugs or drink (much) or get tattoos or the like. Brooke, of course, was an angel and left all the rebelling to his older brother. We'll see who our daughter turns out more like. She'll still grow up knowing some basic car maintenance, how to use power tools, get chocolate out of a cashmere sweater, the proper way to address a thank-you card, ballroom dancing, and basic self defense moves.

I don't really get people who don't want to know the gender. Especially first time ones. I figure that parenthood provides enough surprises that we'll take all the advantages we can get! Besides, it makes it a lot easier to bond with the kick-boxer in my belly... I see other little girls and imagine my own, I can picture her in neat little dresses and start putting her nursery together in a slightly more girly fashion, as in French influence over Italian if it was a boy. I've already started collecting hats. :-)

By the way, no, we haven't decided on a name. Most likely Dee for the middle name, that's my middle name and my paternal Grandfather's middle name, whom I've never met as he died before I was born. Other than that... I like names that are flexible and not a pain in the ass to spell. Like Elizabeth... she can decide she's a Beth, or Lizzie, or Liz, or Liza when she gets older. I really dislike names like Jessyca or Sandi (not just because that last one is my ex MIL's name) because no one will ever spell it right, she'll never find her name on a hat at Disneyland or license plate for her bike, and I think it's just plain mean to brand your child with a name that says "I'm trying to be unique by spelling my name like a stripper would, but really I'm just a high-maintenance pain in the ass with unimaginative parents." Take this with several grains of salt, as I am aware that I have several friends with uniquely spelled names, and/or possibly children with the same affliction. I'm just really bad at remembering names and weird ones really throw me off, so this is how I've reasoned it's their fault and not mine. :-)

Oh, and the final bit of ultrasound news is that she apparently has not suffered from my lack of proper nutrition during the first few months, as she's in the 100th percentile for size right now. Average for this point is 12.5 ounces, and she's 16! That's only about a week ahead in growth, but still, not on track for a baby with a small head we were hoping for. Means we get another ultrasound in the third trimester to make sure she'll fit out the way nature intended, preferably without splitting me in two in the process. So far it's baby 2, us zero. I suppose we should get used to that!

One final serious note... her arms are a teeny, tiny bit short. Per whatever scale they use, normal is .90 and she's .88. Nothing to worry about or warrant further testing, but could possibly be an indicator of Down's. The odds are 1 in about 5,000, and nothing else (blood tests, heart, neck measurements, leg length, etc) indicates a problem. An amniocentesis would give us more info, but then the odds are 1 in 100 of miscarrying (a likely healthy baby) from it. Not worth the odds. So, for now we'll cross our fingers and hope it's just a weird mix of my Scottish/Irish genes and Brooke's Scandinavian ones. Hopefully she's got my Hodge chin and thick skull and Brooke's pretty jade green eyes to go along with her stumpy arms. Brooke has suggested changing her nick name from Spawn to T-Rex, but I told him that's totally inappropriate. T-Rex is a boy's name. Maybe we'll call her She-Rex instead. A bit nicer than "Stumpy," don't you think?

I Do Have a Filter, Really!

Just so you know, there really are some things that are too personal for me to share on here. Something happened the other day that was just so weird, funny, bizarre that I really did want to blog about it, but it was also rather personal and you wouldn't be able to look at me the same way again if I told you. So now you're just going to have to wonder... and I promise you, whatever you come up with won't be nearly as bizarre (and funny) as the truth.

Ahhh! I've Sprung a Leak!

File this post under the heading of "More Things They Don't Tell You About Being Pregnant, For Good Reason." For those of you squeamish about bodily things, or closely related to me, and/or a man, this will DEFINITELY be TMI for you. Escape now while you can.

3...2...1...

It turns out that when you're pregnant, you can and probably will spring a leak from pretty much every orifice possible, and even some that you didn't think were possible. I'll start at the top, and so that you can I can still make eye contact if and when we see each other again, I'll do my best to keep the details to a minimum.

Eyes, Crying- Yeah, this one isn't a shocker. Pregnant woman crying?!!? No! I've found that I'll get more teared up than usual at sappy things, or tragic news about a child, but so far no out and out sobbing sessions. Operative words being "so far." We'll see. I'm really hoping this is kept to a minimum, NOT a fan of hysterics. Yeah, I'm gonna LOVE having a toddler!

Nose, Running- You'd think it was training for a marathon. It runs ALL THE TIME. Part of nature's grand plan to keep pregnant women from getting sick is to constantly flush ALL the mucus membranes (Ladies, you know where this is going, and it's not good). I now carry around a hankie all the time and have turned into my Grandmother with wads of kleenex stuffed into all of my pockets (which kind of makes me smile, I miss her and wish she was here to meet her great grandchild). Thanks to my ever growing cleavage I can now stuff some in there too. Along with my wallet, car keys, and phone if need be. That's another post.

Mouth, Drooling- Seriously. Haven't experienced this one yet, possibly because food was the enemy until only a few weeks ago, but I understand this happens. Sexy. Bibs aren't just for babies any more!

Mouth, Belching- Like a truck driver. Often catches me by surprise. Good think our social life was pretty much nil when it was at its worst, I didn't look pregnant and couldn't use that as an excuse, I would have had to don a Harley tee and trucker hat instead. Also weird hiccups and sneezing. (Side note-felt the baby hiccuping for the first time yesterday. Kind of like kicking, but with rhythm. Either that or it was dancing. Neat.).

Mouth, Puking- That has been covered extensively in here already, but suffice to say it can happen at any time, for any reason what-so-ever.

Mouth, Bleeding- Thanks to a dramatically increased blood supply, my gums bleed like crazy every time I brush my teeth. I look like a rabid vampire when I'm done. More sexiness.

Body, Sweating- Hot flashes and night sweats abound. Suddenly piling on some extra weight around your core tends to make you a bit more warm than usual. So far not too bad, but having to sleep in a bra and wrapped around a body pillow isn't helping. Not my favorite way to work up a sweat in bed.

Boobs, Colostrum- The milk factory can start production early, although not in any real quantity. I have a cousin who started leaking around 16 weeks. Ugh. I got some pads just to be prepared because you know the first time I'll have to deal with this will be when I've just put on the last dress in my closet I can fit into on our way to the Nutcracker.

Butt, Farting- So far, so good here too. Again possibly because all I was eating for months was simple carbs. No difficult veggies or meat to process. I hear pregnant woman farts can be deadly though, what with all the weird combos of stuff we might ingest in our vastly compacted digestive system. Be warned.

Butt, Pooping- Ever see one of those reality birth shows where they tell the woman to bear down like she's having a bowel movement? What they don't tell you is that they often do. Right on the delivery table. Not a Kodak moment you're hoping for. Enemas are now not de rigueur in hospitals any more (neither is shaving, thank goodness. Who needs the extra discomfort of stubble down there afterward? Now a trim wouldn't be the worst thing, I don't know how you're supposed to manage the landscaping once you can't see it any more. Hey, if Demi can pull off the au naturel look, so can we!), <link NSFW!> so this is more common place. In watching some of the water birth videos on YouTube, in between the Yanni music, sage burning and gentle encouragements to push and breathe, it's not unusual to see a random turd floating around the birth pool. If they're on top of things, someone will have an aquarium net to fish it out. Not thrilled about this possibility, yet another reason why I'd prefer that my husband doesn't look down there after maybe a quick glimpse of the baby crowning. We are a closed bathroom door couple, some things need to remain a mystery. It keeps the romance alive.

Bajango, Everything- Peeing is probably the most annoying. When you have this extra weight sitting on and sometimes kicking your bladder, and your fluid retention is way up, you find you now have some surprising things in common with your Grandparents, namely the possibility of incontinence. Usually it could be just a bit here and there when sneezing or laughing too hard (if a pregnant woman says she laughed so hard she peed her pants, it's a) likely she means it literally, and b) doesn't necessarily mean it was that funny because it doesn't take much for that to happen sometimes). It can become problematic if you don't heed the call of nature (which seems to be about every hour, on the hour) when she starts to whisper in your ear, even though it's often hardly worth the trouble.

Side story- I recently (and surprisingly) bonded with a man at a party over the problem of what to do when you're puking your guts out and have to pee at the same time. Apparently having kidney stones produces some of the same symptoms as pregnancy (and is as close to the pain of childbirth for men I hear), namely lots of gut wrenching puking and loss of bladder control. There is nothing quite so miserable as being an otherwise healthy adult draped over the toilet and holding on for dear life while you throw up whatever is left in your stomach (or just dry-heaving, which is worse and more painful) while simultaneously being unable to stop peeing your pants with every up-chuck. Really makes you want your Mommy. Or one of those astronaut diapers.

Leukorrhea, Mucus Plug, and Lochia, Oh My!- This is a whole bunch of gross stuff that is Nature's way of protecting you from infection, letting you know it's probably long past time to start thinking about packing that bag for the hospital, and cleaning house once the baby has been evicted (Google them if you want more details). They're also three reasons why sex may be a big turn off for several months for women, and likely for men too if they knew about it. See my post "I Blame Men!" for some helpful info about this, namely AVOID ALWAYS BRAND PADS, THEY'RE EVIL AND MADE BY WOMEN HATING MEN. There's no other explanation.

Last But Not Least, Amniotic Fluid- Otherwise known as your "water breaking." Not always the big "drench the floor" dramatic puddle shown in movies, often just a leaking. Means it's definitely "Thundercats Go!!" time and you'd better already have a name picked out and your cell phone and camera fully charged. You should probably call your husband too at this point.

So now, doesn't pregnancy sound wonderful and beautiful and like a blessing that should be cherished every minute? I bet you just can't wait to experience all this for yourself (possibly again)! In truth, aside from the puking/peeing dilemma (which seems to be over for now), it's not been so bad. Once I started feeling the baby kicking and having a belly so that it actually looked like I was pregnant, it even started to become worth it. It's amazing what we can adapt and get used to. Now that I feel pregnant and not like I'm harboring some horrible parasite that could burst through my abdomen at any moment, I find that having to get up and pee three times a night and constantly sniffling are not so bad, especially considering it could be worse. I could still be puking.

Why Didn't Anyone Tell Me This Was An Option?!!?

Aww, look! It's a... really creepy robot baby!

Just when you thought it couldn't get weirder... "Japanese researchers created a baby robot designed to simulate the behavior and development of a real infant in an effort to better understand how humans grow up.

Named Noby, short for "nine-month-old baby," it has 600 sensors across its body to feel touch, cameras and microphones fitted into its head for vision and hearing and is hooked up to a powerful computer.
"You can load your software into the robot, watch how it reacts to human actions and its surroundings and compare it with the behavior of real children," Kuniyoshi told AFP Tuesday. "Human beings learn and develop various functions in the process of growing up, but the exact mechanism is yet to be explained," it said."

Damn, if only I had know about this BEFORE we got pregnant!!! My in-laws are even in Japan and could probably even pick one up in some vending machine right next to one selling used school girl panties.

Kidding aside for a brief moment... I (in my admittedly limited knowledge of robot programming) fail to see how a robot baby will "simulate the behavior and development of a real infant in an effort to better understand how humans grow up." I mean, isn't it "garbage in, garbage out?" Don't the programmers have to already have a thorough understanding of the "behavior and development" of a real infant so that they can program this to act like one? Being a robot, isn't it impossible for it to actually "grow up?" Won't people treat it differently than a real baby, because face it, it's like some freakish love child of Chucky and an iMac, and therefor none of the data will have any real meaning at all?

It says it has microphones, but what about speakers so it can burst out crying at inconvenient times, food intake/storage and output areas so it can eat, poop, pee and upchuck non-stop, and thanks to the speakers, let you know when it needs to do any of that at maximum volume? Does it throw a fit for the latest Hello Kitty/Powder Puff Girls toy? Will it point to strangers and/or family members and say embarrassing things about them during a sudden silence in the room? Are some of the robot babies gay? Do its eyes glow red when it gets mad? Why does it look like even all the robot babies are boys? Will it swear in inappropriate situations? If it gets a virus, will you have to give up your opening night opera tickets and sit up all night with it singing obnoxious songs? These are serious, scientific questions that I think need to be answered!



Has ANYONE in Japan EVER watched a horror movie? Because you know this can't end well. I give it six months before they lose funding and wind up selling them to pedophiles as sex toys... and they develop AI and start taking over the world.

Robot Baby article link

OT- What is the deal with my dog?

Not directly pregnancy related, other than the fact that I'm pregnant and wondering about this... but why is it when I go to the bathroom, my dog wants to be in there with me? He will get up out of his comfy bed and follow me upstairs, curl up on the bath mat at my feet, and chill while I'm doing my business. Every time. Sometimes he even wants to get up in my lap. Is this just my weird dog or everyone's?

Why? I mean, it's not like I'm pooping bacon in there, and while it's nothing like a sani-can on a construction site in August in Louisiana, thanks to the "green" low-flush toilet (translation, very little water in the bowl) it's not always a rose garden either. A dog's sense of smell is some hundreds of times stronger than a human's, and I don't want to be in there with me sometimes, so why on earth does he?

He's perfectly content to stay in the other room while I'm sitting on the couch, putting on makeup, doing dishes, taking a bath... but I need to go, ahem, "drop some kids off at the pool" and he's all about it, sitting there keeping me company and cheering me on. Perhaps he's just fascinated by my ability to poop in the house, magically make it disappear AND not get in trouble for it?

Embracing the Belly

So getting pregnant has come at an interesting time for me. Right before I got pregnant I weighed the most I ever had and wasn't too happy about it. I went from under 110 about four years ago to 130 in June. On top of that I wasn't dancing anymore, my main form of exercise, so in addition to being heavier, I'd also lost a lot of muscle tone I was used to having.

This was the first time I'd had to deal with a weight issue in my  life. Usually because I was fairly active and ate reasonably, I'd go up and down a few pounds easily and never cared. I remember when I hit the 110 mark when I was 30 it was a big deal because I finally weighed enough to donate blood!

So, at first I thought it was kinda funny, this little "pooch" I had. Then, when I started to look less than great in some of my clothing, it wasn't so funny, and also wasn't so easy to lose either like it used to be. I got a little self conscious about it, made sure to suck in my gut during photos and the like. I also didn't like how out of shape I had become and how low my endurance was. I had to watch what I wore or risk being one of "those girls" I'd made fun of with the tight low rise jeans and high rise tops and a bakery item in between. Many might say it would serve me right, and I'd probably have to agree.


Then, thanks to the wonders of constant morning sickness and nausea, I lost 13 lbs. Yea! I was relatively skinny again! All those low rise jeans looked good on me again and my face was noticeably more slender. Of course the irony was that I was now too exhausted and sick to really care, plus I lacked the energy or interest in getting dressed up to go out and wear my skinny clothes again... pj's were the wardrobe of choice for me and they all had an elastic waist that didn't matter if I gained or lost 20 pounds.

Now, at 17 weeks pregnant, I've got a belly. Not a pooch or a gut, but a belly. My waist size is now equal to my bra size and I'm loving it! I've gone from hiding my stomach to highlighting it with form fitting tops and sweaters. I think it's just big and "basketball" shaped (round and out front instead of wide and all over) enough to be obvious that I'm pregnant and not fat. But you know, even if someone does mistake me for being fat, I don't care because I know the truth.

It's a very liberating feeling, wanting to show off something that I was hiding not too long ago. This new found love I've got for the changing shape of my body is comforting and I'm enjoying it. There are so many other things about being pregnant that I haven't enjoyed, and this has come as a nice surprise. It helps a lot that my husband also loves my belly and is constantly telling me how sexy he thinks I am. I'm also fairly confidant that I will lose all the weight once I give birth... eventually. I probably won't be as happy with the post baby body as I am with the pre, but I'll deal with that when the time comes.

I wish that all women could feel as happy and confident with their body as I do right now. Of course being slender and pregnant is different from being fat and not pregnant, but I still think it's an empowering experience and feeling to have.

I know I will look back on this post in a few short months when I'm waddling around the house trying to find a pair of shoes I can slip on because I can't reach my feet to tie anything, and finding things that will stretch over my much bigger belly will be a constant battle... and I will laugh, and it will make me pee my pants a little, and I'll have to heave my bulk off the couch to go to the bathroom. Until then, I'll enjoy it while I can.

I Blame Men! (This post probably falls into TMI territory)

I'm pretty sure Martha Stewart demo'd how to make these last week.

There is no way a woman would let this design fly. It had to be a man.

So, I woke up this morning with a rash. A PAINFUL rash. On my bajango. What the hell? I called my midwife, and first question she asks me is "Are you wearing panty liners, and are the Always brand?" Why yes, and yes. Every day. What could be the problem? I mean, I'm sure that nobody would be idiotic enough to create a product that would go on such a sensitive area that would be harmful to said area, would they?!!? Oh ye of little faith in the power of corporate greed!

It turns out that, yes, in fact they would! Apparently Always brand panty liners are treated with some chemical and covered in synthetic sandpaper (it feels like) that is known to do this. Seriously, WTF?!!? That is just EVIL. You don't hear of condoms or jock straps that, oops, yeah, turns out they make your weenie break out in hives and shrink an inch. Fat chance.

Anyway, now my wonderful, loving husband is going to stop by the store and get me some non-toxic/non-abrasive liners to replace them. I told him to go to Whole Foods/PCC and get the most hippie looking all- natural, 100% virgin cotton ones he can find. As long as they are disposable. I'm NOT washing the damn things.

Where's My Glow, Goddamnit!

Alrighty, I'm now 16 weeks. Still battling nausea (but it's better), still not much of an appetite either. Belly's getting bigger, about 33" around now. My nails are growing like crazy, but my hair kinda looks like crap and my skin is dry and I am certainly NOT glowing. However, I count myself lucky. I haven't put on a ton of weight (down a net 10 still), no hemorrhoids (though I understand there's still plenty of time for that fun to show up), not super moody (still only in dreams), no bizarre cravings for chalk or dirt (pica, it happens), no insomnia, leg cramps, heart burn, stretch marks, giant painful ta-tas, skin tags, lactose intolerance, gestational diabetes, preeclampsia or melasma (pregnancy mask)... yet.  All not totally unheard of side effects of pregnancy. So it could be worse.

I also have a long way to go before I'm first chair and will be playing solos in the butt-trumpet section in this household (I'll let you wonder if my husband or dog is current master of that instrument), but I can (and do) belch like a truck driver. I don't know why, it's like I'm full of air (some would say hot air). Sometimes I think it's not a baby bump but a giant air bubble instead.

Twenty seven days until we find out if we'll be stuck with a lot of ugly baby stuff in pink or blue. Day before my husband's 40th birthday... will he get a penis or a vagina? Leaning towards the latter, but we'll see. Looking forward to that, it'll be cool to start identifying with Spawn more once we know the gender.

Next blog: Why is most baby stuff so goddamn ugly? They couldn't care less if their bouncy seat has Elmo or rainbow fish or teddy bears on it, and grown adults would never buy a piece of furniture for themselves with that crap on it, so why do we get it for our babies? Who decided that crap was appropriate? Ugh.

Death and Destruction in the Nursery

I believe having a relatively toxic-free environment for a newborn is somewhat important. That's one of the reasons why we had the nursery painted and the floors refinished in April so that hopefully all the off-gassing would be done by when ever we got around to procreating. I've been opting for organic things where possible, as long as they don't need to be hand washed by virgins in angel's tears or some such nonsense. So far, so good, right? Hah! Foolish and arrogant girl!

Brooke was out of town for the weekend on a Porsche guy road trip (of course this would happen then). I was finally feeling well enough and motivated enough to do some housework and then start working on the pile of boxes in the nursery. I cleaned up the kitchen, including the big mess of cinnamon and ant bait poison for our on-going ant problem. No ants had been seen in awhile so I finally cleaned it up... feeling that as soon as I did the little bastards would reappear. Oh how true that suspicion would prove to be!

Ants in kitchen prior to Antpocalypse

Then I go upstairs to start on the nursery and look for some ribbon to hang some art (our house has picture rails everywhere) and at some point while I'm digging through the box I realize I'm standing in the middle of this HUGE mess of ants! Yeah, they had reappeared all right, in a big trail going diagonally across the entire nursery, from behind one big pile of boxes to behind another big pile of boxes.

I'll spare you all the sordid details, but suffice to say there was some frantic vacuuming, much swearing and sweating (my formerly cozy flannel pj's became a damp, stifling, shroud), shoving of piles of boxes, more vacuuming, and finally a hosing down of the room of bug spray when it just seemed like they were everywhere! Even had a bag of new baby clothes fall over onto the bug spray covered floor. Nifty.

Finally located the offending box (I think) they were after... not a forgotten chocolate bar or bag of chips, it was my special effect makeup, most likely some fake blood which is basically just corn syrup and coloring (which is kinda creepy if you think abut it as my friend Matt said, vampire ants!). I pushed the large, heavy box down the stairs and thank god for my awesome neighbors... when I appeared all sweaty in my PJ's on their back porch panting and asking for help with my ant emergency they carried the box down to the basement where I doused it with bug spray.

So, now my nursery makes me gag when I walk into it, is covered in poison and stuff thrown everywhere, and we have a house guest showing up on Sunday who is supposed to sleep in there. Oy.

I seriously believe these things are just Nature's way of testing me and trying to prepare me to be a better parent. I almost lost it a few times, but in the end seemed to have triumphed (for now... the paid professionals will be coming to make sure we keep that advantage) with no tears or puking, though it was close on both counts. Glad we still have five months to get the room cleaned up and aired out!

Wait... only five months?!!? Holy crap, I can't believe we're almost at the half way point!!! Aggghhhhhh!

All Right, Mr. DeMille, I'm Ready For My Close-Up!

Me at 14 weeks

Me at about 12 weeks

Alrighty, here begins the parade of pregnancy photos of me and my belly. I have to confess that the one on the left is a "reenactment" in that it's really me at 14 weeks sucking my gut in to try and give a bit of a "before" photo. Turns out the baby doesn't suck in so well. I plan on taking all the photos in this dress as its very stretchy and should accommodate my expanding girth, though it does get a bit sheer at the limits of its endurance.

Now that I'm generally feeling better (until the next weird symptom shows up I suppose, I understand there's a lot of them) and starting to manifest the reality of my condition, getting more excited about it is getting easier. I keep reading these pregnancy books where various women talk about their pregnancies and about how psycho they got. I got a little cranky last night and snapped at Brooke but while it was related to being pregnant in that I was trying to tell Brooke how I hurt my foot and he was laughing because I wasn't making much sense because of my frequent bouts of fuzzy brained Pregnancy brain, it wasn't crazy off the wall hormonal loony. I also felt bad for it right away and sent an email apologizing (he fell asleep right away).

OK, off to bed... while I'm tending to not feel so nauseous these days, I'm still taking Benadryl and I can feel the minute it kicks in. I hope to stop it soon as I'm tired enough as it is, though all the sleep is nice. Looking forward to experiencing one of the nicer side effects, the pregnancy dream induced "big-O!" Yes, it's true, not a myth, and proves that my god is a merciful, if somewhat sardonically humored god, noodly appendages and all.

And You Think I'm Dark?!!?

No, I did not create this. I just happen to like it a lot. I think I will print this out and put it up in the nursery. Just in case. I now feel fully prepared to be a Mom now!

 

Pregnancy Has Turned Me Into a Hormonal Psycho!

(For those of you hoping for a bit of schadenfreude, you're about to be disappointed.)

So, one of my big fears about being pregnant (after general health issues for me and the baby) were based on  the horror stories about how pregnant women are so overrun with hormones that they just break down crying one minute and are raging psychos the next with seemingly little control over their mind (this goes hand in hand with my fear of growing older and Alzheimer's, but that's a ways off). Ugh!

So, I've found that my hormones have definitely come into play and turned me into this raging worthy-of-Bad-Girl's-Club-and-Bridezillas bitch... but only in my dreams. (Told you) As I mentioned before, I've been having these very vivid and realistic dreams pretty much every night. Several of them are about me going into these raging fits, the throwing-things-around-the-room-while-screaming type fit. For no good reason. I even know I have no good reason while I'm having this fit in my dream. I wake up drained and with a residual adrenaline rush and feelings of anger at whomever my dream fit was about, but they go away quickly, but it makes my stomach hurt (more) and makes it hard to go back to sleep (which is difficult these days anyways).

I had one last night, fighting with my Mom about something. It was right after I woke up crying from a dream about my Grandma where she was teaching me swing and Charleston moves. I'm always somewhat lucid at some point in these dreams, rationalizing that it has to be a dream, but trying to convince myself that it's not because I'm enjoying it so much. I always wake up crying from those dreams because I realize she really is gone and whatever happened in my dream won't be able to happen in real life. She was a neat lady and I wish she was still around to meet her great grandchild. She died in 2003 and was a catalyst for me making big and very positive changes in my life. I wish she was around to see those too. She'd really like Brooke.

Not to say I haven't had my emotional ups and downs, and I'm certainly more prone to cry at sentimental movies now, I think they're related to feeling like crap for two months and being exhausted and frustrated more than pure hormones (which judging by the amount of "morning" sickness I've had, I certainly have an abundance of those!), though I understand the hormones can give you some crazy dreams. I still have a long way to go, and perhaps they'll get the better of me down the road (delivery room does NOT count), but so far, so good. One unfounded fear down, hopefully many more to go. :-)

Now, my totally different dream about Ben Stiller on the other hand.... ?!!? Ben Affleck I could understand, but Stiller?!!? He's like a Jack Russell on PCP, high-strung and unpredictable and prone to disaster... I don't know what THAT was all about. Weird.

Don't Worry, It's A Keeper!

This is just what my dream was like. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Now some of you may have been understandably concerned about my lack of gushing about the joys of being pregnant and instead all the bitching about being nauseous and throwing up all the time, and wondering if a trip to Planned Parenthood might still be an option if I wasn't able to eat a med-rare steak (the smell of cooked meat is my biggest technicolor-yawn trigger right now) sometime in the near future... well, don't worry. Not only am I feeling better, but I realized the other day that what I was likely feeling wasn't gas or indigestion, but the baby moving! That's pretty cool... if you saw the way it was leaping around in there on the ultrasound, it's actually amazing I don't feel it more! I'm even tempted to use the word "awe" here.

I've had very vivid and realistic dreams the last four nights that I could feel (and even see, as in fists and elbows pushing my stomach out) the baby moving. They are so realistic and tactile that I'm shocked awake (not realizing I was asleep) lying in the exact position I was dreaming I was in, and nearly rolled over and woke Brooke up to have him feel. Only when I realized that my hand (where I "felt" the baby move) was near my ribcage (baby still below belly button) did I realize I was dreaming. While it's kinda cool to have a preview of sorts, it's not cool to be awoken from a dead sleep confident that something is punching its way around your abdomen. That then becomes kinda creepy and hard to go back to sleep. I really hope the attached photo is Photoshopped. It looks painful.

Also along the lines of "it's a keeper" is the fact that all of our test results have come back clear. Not sure if we'll do an amniocentesis (test where they shove a giant needle through my stomach wall to suck up a bit of amniotic fluid to test for stuff like Downs and more) or not. Large part of me wants to know now, but there's also a small (1 in 1,600)  risk of miscarriage and false positives. Jury is still out on that.

I'm currently 13 weeks, 5 days, baby is about 3.5 inches long, and bouncing around like a Mexican jumping bean, although we are fairly sure it's not in fact Mexican. I've lost 11 pounds, but have put on about 3lbs of "baby stuff", so that probably means I lost 14lbs of fat... who knew pregnancy could be a diet plan. I definitely had it to lose too... having gone up two cup sizes in the last three years, I'm just fine with going back down a bit before production starts rolling and they go up again. I never thought all those years ago in high school as a "late bloomer" that someday I'd be wishing for smaller boobs... definitely falls in the category of "be careful what you wish for!"

So, the long and short of it is that now that I'm not feeling like crap all the time any more (even made it out for sushi tonight!*), and have felt the baby move, it's becoming more real and thus more fun and easy to get excited about. I've found I tolerate pain a lot better than nausea. I think that might come in handy later.


*Yes, yes, I know, sushi is on the "no, no!" list. I don't care, it sounded good (not much of anything else does these days), I need the protein, and 61 million Japanese women who ate sushi while pregnant can't all be wrong. They still kick our ass at math. I understand that you're just not supposed to eat bad sushi as it sucks extra bad to have food poisoning while pregnant. Oh, and keep the tuna to a minimum too because of the mercury. Having my first full meal in weeks (and keeping it down) was worth it.

Call Me "Preggers" at Your Own Peril

She is definitely "preggers"

I don't know exactly why I hate that term so much. I've hated it long before I got (ahem) PREGNANT, it just brings to mind images of a 16 year old girl, somewhere in the mid-west, who got knocked up by her boyfriend (who invariably has two first names like Billy Bob or Bubba Joe) while drinking Boones in the back of his pickup truck after a romantic night of cow tipping. "Preggers" does NOT bring to mind a 35 year old agnostic woman who is married to someone she is not closely related to and living in Ballard, Seattle and has never once been cow tipping.

So, pregnant, with child, bun-in-the-oven, the aforementioned "knocked up and shit," carrying a baby, offspring, spawn, parasite, even the far-too visually inspiring "crotch goblin" work better for me than "preggers" or even "prego."

Consider yourself warned. Hell hath no furry like a pissed off pregnant woman. :-)

Tell Me About Your... Spider

WARNING-Not a post for those with sensitive stomachs.

OK, here's a joke for you (parental types may want to skip it)... what do an 80 year old hooker and I have in common? Answer... a very compromised gag reflex. (insert rim shot here)

So the latest manifestation of this pregnancy is a nearly instant gag reaction to icky things. I was finally feeling better, not overly sensitive to smells, eating different foods, not especially nauseous and now this. Nifty.

It started Thursday morning when I squashed a big spider that crawled out of my laundry. I almost instantly threw up. It was a very close call. The last time something like that happened was years ago when a bunch of people were in the kitchen of a friend who had a very nervous, skittish dog and someone dropped a pot that made a huge noise. The dog immediately ran out of the room while pooping and it was the most godawful thing you've ever smelled. It was pure fear and death all in a smell. All of us were fighting the instant urge to be sick. This was like that. I have no idea why, I've squashed many a spider and used to tape them to the wall à la Vlad the Impaler with no qualms. So what the hell?

I was working on set later that day and the client was a Psychologist. We were talking about spiders and I mentioned my incident that morning and she told me that in Freudian philosophy a spider represents your Mother (doesn't everything though?). In light of that, it was interesting that I had such an instant and visceral reaction to killing something that represents motherhood. Put that in your pipe and smoke it Freud!

Of course, I had the same (actually worse, I'll spare you the details) reaction that evening to cleaning up the pool of barf my dog left me after he'd gotten into some chocolate as a present on the kitchen floor. Certainly didn't help that the last thing I'd eaten was a chocolate brownie. This better go away before the baby arrives as I understand there are often lots of icky things coming out of them and I don't want to be adding to it!

I Didn't Know I Had A Monster Inside Me!

These two shows seem to be about the same thing.

So I couldn't help but be amused by the proximity of these two shows on the TV line up. Both shows are about people finding out in usually surprising and unpleasant ways that they've had something growing inside them and living off of their body for awhile. The bottom one is usually about some disgusting worm found in some 3rd world jungle, the top one is a baby (or two), but while one is usually cuter than the other they're still kind of about the same thing.


I haven't seen the second one, but I have seen several episodes of the "I Didn't Know Sex Could Make You Pregnant!" show, because given my three month experience with the process, I'm fascinated that any one could NOT know they were pregnant until they saw a head sticking out of their bajango. To be fair, most of the women are larger frame (but not all fat), and have been told they were sterile for one reason or another or were on birth control. One was 45 and had her tubes tied. One was 57! Many had negative pregnancy tests. Most skipped their periods for one reason or another frequently. If you think about it, many pregnancy symptoms are experienced by everyone at some point or another (indigestion, heart burn, weight gain, back aches, moodiness) so it's not like those are treats reserved only for the knocked up.

However, some of them are just idiots. The woman who had heartburn, mood swings, cravings for PICKLES (I kid you not), 20lb weight gain, back aches, and (here's the kicker) STARTED LACTATING a few weeks before her "ovarian cyst" pain took her to the ER was just a moron. So was the woman whose Mom (an RN) took her blood pressure because she was all swollen looking and it was 190/114 (very high) and still refused to go to the doctor. Then her husband leaves for a business trip while she's having pain she associates with her ongoing ovarian cyst issue (that also supposedly made her sterile). It gets incredibly bad, she still doesn't call 911 or her Mom, even when she (yup, you guessed it) saw a head coming out of her bajango. Even after she delivers on the bathroom floor, she STILL doesn't call for help. She does call her husband the next day to tell him that she had a "surprise" for him when he got home. Two days later, he gets home, she shows him their baby, and he thinks she's gone bonkers and stolen it until she shows him the slaughter house scene in the bathroom. She STILL hasn't sought any medical help for her or her baby. She of course turns out to have preeclampsia (bp is now 210/140) and it's a miracle she didn't stroke out or have a heart attack as a result. I hope they can afford a nanny because that woman should never be responsible for a relatively nice house plant, let alone a baby.

Anyway, I guess the thing I take away from all of that is even though these women still drank, smoked, ate lots of crap, had rare meat, sushi, soft cheese, no prenatal care or vitamins... all of the babies turned out OK. So hopefully while I've been sitting here eating fruit and rice crackers and mac and cheese for weeks on end, our little spawn is still plugging merrily away in the growth process despite my inability to take vitamins and organic salads in by the pound.

I still wouldn't mind having a few less pregnancy symptoms in the mean time.

Introducing Shannon the Pincushion! Oooohhhmmmm...

Me contemplating the needle in my third eye.

So I've had my seventh acupuncture treatment for the nausea. Interesting experience. Not instant results necessarily, but I like the clinic (NW Acupuncture Clinic) and Susan, the Sadist, er, Acupuncturist. They specialize in reproductive treatments, and might come in handy when we get closer to the due date as they say they can work all kinds of miracles with back and tailbone pain, there's even a spot on the foot for encouraging a baby to turn if it's breech.

It doesn't hurt (most of the time) as much as I thought it might. Usually it's nothing or a tiny prick. Once in a while they hit a nerve and it sends an electrical type shock down my arm/leg and can hurt for a bit. Sometimes I get a little bruise, but otherwise no big deal. They often leave these tiny little thumb tacks in my wrists and stomach, and little beads on my ears for acupressure points. The ears work the best. I'd hate to see how bad I'd be feeling if I wasn't doing this!

It's interesting the approach to pregnancy that different people take. Some are very "whatever my Doctor says is gospel, give me all the drugs you've got!" others are frankly braver than I am and are going the Douala and home birth route with a "I'm sure it will all work out fine!" attitude. I'm somewhere in the middle. This is one of the only projects I've undertaken without already having lots of firm opinions and ideas to build on.

Every issue requires new thought and research as I just have had no basis to form an opinion about a lot of it. Circumcision, strollers, co-sleeping, toilet training, type of diapers... the list seems endless! I know we don't want to be the super anal "organic only/washed in angel's tears" type parents, but it's hard to make a distinction between that and "actually... it turns out that actually is pretty bad for you" type stuff (like lead paint on furniture, asbestos in bedding, melamine in baby formula). I hate fear based marketing, but when the stakes are potentially so high it's hard not to want to err on the side of caution... we'd just go crazy and broke trying to do it all the time!

It would be super swell if they could stick a needle in my "maternal instinct chakra" so that I would just magically know all these things. I'll have to ask next time, I'll let you know how hard they laugh.

I'm Pregnant, Yea?

Yup, as my friend Matt would say, I'm "all knocked up and shit." Tomorrow will be 12 weeks, first trimester already over! Seems so fast, but also so slow what with all the nausea and exhaustion. I feel like I missed out on what summer we did have because I was too sick and/or tired to enjoy it! Hopefully this nausea will be done with soon, and I can begin to enjoy eating again. While it's been nice to lose 10lbs before putting on another 20 or so, feeling hung over for two months isn't my ideal weight loss plan.

Brooke has been fantastic, so supportive, loving and patient, he's a lot more excited about this than I am right now, but then he's not the sick/exhausted/sore one! Once this part is over I think I'll be a lot more excited about it too. Right now it just feels like I have the flu or attended some raging party that I have no memory of, just the residual hangover.

So far we've had two ultrasounds and some blood work done, and everything looks good so far... blood pressure is good/low, Rh+, not pre-Diabetic, no elevated levels to cause concerns genetically, A+ (never knew that before!), yadda, yadda. I'll still be worried about things like Autism and the like for a long time to come, but feeling a bit better about our odds for a healthy baby. No reason to be more concerned than anyone else, but the horror stories of people dealing with special needs children has kept me childless so far. Fingers crossed!

Basically, this is an act of faith for me right now. I can easily visualize all the reasons not to have a kid... the exhaustion, the mess, the fighting, the cost, the loss of personal freedom/privacy/finances... a visit to this website has endless examples of why perhaps my fur child Jester is a better, safer, cheaper option: http://www.shitmykidsruined.com/. These are real, tangible, mostly inevitable parts of being a parent. Most of the reasons to have a child are theoretical: the sense of wonder of a child, watching something we created discover and learn about the world, the joy of successes, the love shared... those are all things other parents talk about, but until you actually HAVE a child, hard to fully comprehend, no matter how many Facebook posts you read.

So... I have faith that our child will be healthy, that my husband will be a loving and supportive father, that our families will be there for us when we need them (and give us room to figure things out on our own when we don't!), that we'll be the parents who maintain a social life and their friendships (eventually!), that I'll be able to handle the next 28 weeks and the birth to come, that I'll be the kind of parent I want to be, not the one I was afraid I'd be. So... right now while I can't eat and physical activity makes me ill... I'm going on faith, and for an avowed Agnostic, that's saying something.