Just looked at rotating 3D baby over there and noticed that I have less than 100 days until my due date now.
Panic is setting in.
Baby did well on trip to UK, although kicking has increased significantly in the time I was gone. The plane definitely upped the ante with almost constant movement for the 10hour flight out. But otherwise, baby seemed happy to be in Momma's home town. Actually, my digestion and er... (well there's no other way to tell it) constipation completely calmed down when I was back there and my hair seemed to become much more manageable. I guess you can take the girl out of Britain but you can't take the Brit out of the girl! It was almost tempting to suggest staying on in England to give birth on the NHS (National Health Service), which would actually save us up to $2k on our hospital stay. Didn't think Hubby would buy it, though, so I kept my mouth shut.
Whereas I was only getting poked and prodded in the evenings and a bit in the morning, now its pretty much an all day affair. I woke up this morning to find that baby had figured out how to operate hands and feet in unison, meaning I was being poked on both sides of my stomach at the same time. This may also explain why my bump is so W-I-I-I-I-D-E - baby appears to be laying width-ways for the most part.
Girth has definitely increased at a faster rate recently, some of which is as a result of Christmas over-indulgences (and will reduce in the next week or so as my eating gets back to normal) but a lot of which is definitely baby, as evidenced by the changing shape of the bump itself. Where before it was a gentle slope out from my groin, now it's definitely a round, beach-ball type protrusion. It's amazing how much faster the growth happens after the fourth month at least from the outside. Everything seems to speed up, with more noticeable gains and changes week-by-week now, versus month-by-month.
Maternity pants refuse to stay up for longer than half a second now, meaning I walk around constantly hitching up my pants. My parents think I need braces but I have not yet lost all fashion sense (I'm saving that for my sleep-deprived maternity leave), so I plan to stick it out.
Christmas without martinis or Baileys sort of sucked. I'm very much looking forward to having a gurgling baby in one arm and a lemon-drop martini in the other in 2009.
That's it for Monday after Chrimbo. Shall report back again soon.
Monday, December 29, 2008
Friday, December 19, 2008
24 weeks and yet more debate
24 weeks preggers today. Of course, in my impatient mind I've been equating that to 6 months pregnant and heading into trimester #3. However, as we all know by now, there is no simple way to calculate months or trimesters in this process.
So, here we go again!
Most people tend to agree that there are, on average and rounded-down a bit, 4 weeks to a month. However, Google calculates that there are actually 4.34812141 weeks in a month because 12 months does not divide neatly into 52 weeks (who created this system?). That .34812141 doesn't sound like something you should really be worrying about until you start adding multiples up over a longer period. Soooo say, like a 9 and a bit month pregnancy. Hence, Google's calculation is that 6 months actually equals 26.088728 weeks.
Therefore, by Google's calculations, I will be 6 months pregnant two weeks from now on January 9th.
Now to trimesters. We've been here before, so I shall keep this one short and refer to what has so far been the bible of trimester calculations: http://www.baby2see.com/trimester_calculator.html. According to said site (and I think I've posted this before) I'm either at the 3rd trimester on January, 4th, 6th, or 9th (depending on which method you use to calculate.)
Therefore, I think we have a winner. January 9th is agreed by both Google and baby2see.com for both month 6 and trimester 3.
Which just leaves us with week 24 to mark and celebrate today. Boooooooooooring.
What is supposed to be happening this week? According to the scary, 3D rotating baby...
Your baby isn't just sitting around (on your bladder) doing nothing, he's working hard preparing for life outside the womb—perfecting his lungs and packing on the pounds. He'll gain ½ pound this week alone. Other highlights this week:
Things are starting to get a little crowded inside the old womb as baby grows bigger and bigger. Your ribs are probably pining away for the good old days when they didn't have a foot permanently lodged between them. Hate to break it to you, but it's going to get worse before it gets better.
Your baby's ears are fully functional now. And since they are, you may notice that loud noises and sudden movements can startle the little bugger. He's getting used to the everyday sounds inside the womb: the sound of your heart beating, your lungs inhaling and exhaling air, the growling of your stomach because your partner promised he'd be right back with that double cheeseburger and he's taking forever! He'll even be able to hear your voice when your partner finally arrives and you ask him where the bleep he's been! So talk nice!
Baby's got a fully developed inner ear now. This means his sense of balance is working and he can tell whether he's hanging upside down or right side up. He can also feel you moving, so go ahead, pop in your favorite tunes and boogie.
Your little Wiener schnitzel is about the length of a foot-long Chicago hot dog and weighs about 1 1/3 pounds.
And so, since it's 1:32pm and someone just mentioned a foot-long hot dog, I'm off to go get something to eat.
So, here we go again!
Most people tend to agree that there are, on average and rounded-down a bit, 4 weeks to a month. However, Google calculates that there are actually 4.34812141 weeks in a month because 12 months does not divide neatly into 52 weeks (who created this system?). That .34812141 doesn't sound like something you should really be worrying about until you start adding multiples up over a longer period. Soooo say, like a 9 and a bit month pregnancy. Hence, Google's calculation is that 6 months actually equals 26.088728 weeks.
Therefore, by Google's calculations, I will be 6 months pregnant two weeks from now on January 9th.
Now to trimesters. We've been here before, so I shall keep this one short and refer to what has so far been the bible of trimester calculations: http://www.baby2see.com/trimester_calculator.html. According to said site (and I think I've posted this before) I'm either at the 3rd trimester on January, 4th, 6th, or 9th (depending on which method you use to calculate.)
Therefore, I think we have a winner. January 9th is agreed by both Google and baby2see.com for both month 6 and trimester 3.
Which just leaves us with week 24 to mark and celebrate today. Boooooooooooring.
What is supposed to be happening this week? According to the scary, 3D rotating baby...
Your baby isn't just sitting around (on your bladder) doing nothing, he's working hard preparing for life outside the womb—perfecting his lungs and packing on the pounds. He'll gain ½ pound this week alone. Other highlights this week:
Things are starting to get a little crowded inside the old womb as baby grows bigger and bigger. Your ribs are probably pining away for the good old days when they didn't have a foot permanently lodged between them. Hate to break it to you, but it's going to get worse before it gets better.
Your baby's ears are fully functional now. And since they are, you may notice that loud noises and sudden movements can startle the little bugger. He's getting used to the everyday sounds inside the womb: the sound of your heart beating, your lungs inhaling and exhaling air, the growling of your stomach because your partner promised he'd be right back with that double cheeseburger and he's taking forever! He'll even be able to hear your voice when your partner finally arrives and you ask him where the bleep he's been! So talk nice!
Baby's got a fully developed inner ear now. This means his sense of balance is working and he can tell whether he's hanging upside down or right side up. He can also feel you moving, so go ahead, pop in your favorite tunes and boogie.
Your little Wiener schnitzel is about the length of a foot-long Chicago hot dog and weighs about 1 1/3 pounds.
And so, since it's 1:32pm and someone just mentioned a foot-long hot dog, I'm off to go get something to eat.
Tuesday, December 16, 2008
Three times now!
Twice within the last week I have been greeted by shocked faces when I told someone I was "only" 6 months (or thereabouts) pregnant.
At a holiday party on Saturday night, one of the agents in Hubby's office said: "Wow! You look like you're ready to pop right now."
Then, today, when picking something up from a store at the mall, the sales lady said (opening up my shirt to stare at my bump in awe): "Wow? Do you have twins in there?"
Finally, there was the co-worker who compared my size to a colleague who is 9 months pregnant.
(This is excluding the comment from my boss last month that he thought I did look fatter than he thought I should have at that point in my pregnancy.)
I mean, seriously. Even if I do look further advanced than people expect, what is it about being pregnant that eliminates people's "appropriateness" barriers? How would they feel if I responded back to them "Wow! How tall are you? Just 5 foot 1? You look you weigh enough to be 6ft tall!" (Don't put it past me to use this if there is a "fourth" such comment directed at me, especially from a stranger.)
Ok, so I never was the leanest, meanest chick on the block but I haven't put on that much extra weight overall and my bump is very firm; there's not a lot of squidginess on top. I'm no Nicole Richie (and have no plans to be) but I think I'm doing alright.
It's a good job I have thick skin, am not overly emotional, and don't take these things personally. I can imagine how some women could end up with a self-image issue with some of the crazy stuff people say to you when you're pregnant.
I'm also getting to the end of my tether on the "advice". Granted, I'm very greatful for it from family and friends in general, but from casual acquaintances or strangers - PUT A SOCK IN IT! I don't need you to preach to me about the 'right' parenting style, about what I should or should not be eating, what books I should be reading, how important breast-feeding is, how I will probably change my mind about having one kid after I fall in love with this one, or how I should be exercising. And as for the condescending, patronizing, know-it-all phrase "Oh, just you wait and see!" (or some variation thereof) it needs to be archived RIGHT NOW. You're right: I will see. On my own. I don't need you to color my expectations or experiences with yours thank you very much. If I'm going to screw this up (which I accept I will on occasion), I'm going to do it on my own steam. I just abhor people who seek to place their own limits or rules upon you for what you can or cannot do. They make me feel like pulling an Obama and screaming "YES I CAN!" in their smug, self-righteous faces. Better still, they make me want to do the very thing they said I can't or shouldn't just to piss them off. Even if they wound up being right, I would then write them an email about how I found no difficulty at all in xyz, and intended to do it ALL THE TIME from hereon out.
Harumpf.
At that same holiday party last weekend, I was chatting to one of those wonderful agents again (I have many agent friends, many are nice, this is not a reflection on all of them.) This agent was a 50-something man with a few grown-up children. He asked me how many children we were planning to have and when I said one, he looked at me in horror and asked why. When I explained that it was partly a financial decision and partly a lifestyle decision because we want to be able to travel, his response was: "Well, you can still travel. My family and I have traveled all over the world with our children. It's only money. " (Umm, yeah, wasn't that my point?)
I actually quite doubt that his idea of "all over the world" and mine are the same, since he drew another agent (who I do know better) into the conversation and used that person as an example olf someone who travels "extensively". (I know for a fact that "extensively" here means back and forth from their vacation home on the Hawaiian islands. Frequently does not equal extensively.)
And then he went on to say, in the patronizing way of someone who knows nothing about you but assumes he knows everything, "You know, you may travel and realize you don't actually like it."
This was the time at which I pulled out my "13 countries, 47 cities, in 33 years" travel history and threw it solidly in his face.
Not to be deterred, he then said, "Well, you may just see the face of that beautiful baby and decide that there's nothing more important than spending time with him or her, right here at home."
Clearly, he knows nothing at all about me.
And yes, I know, all you parents are right now thinking..."Oh, just you wait and see!"
SHEESH!
---------------------
Switching gears entirely... what's up with the new rotating 3D Baby Vixen on the right there? Prior to this week he/she has been curled up in a nice little ball but now his/her head is staring up into the air. What is this supposed to represent?
Last but not least: Had another dream last night. This time it was about the baby being a boy. I had a couple of tests that Hubby didn't accompany me to and the woman doing the tests accidentally referred to the baby as a boy. I was upset that I had found out and strangely disappointed. Secretly, in my dream at least, I guess I had been hoping to be wrong and for it to be a girl.
I'm not sure if this really how I feel because, of course, if it's hidden in my subconscious it's not laying on the surface for me to analyze. When I think about it consciously, I see beautiful things in having a son and wonderful things in having a daughter. If I'm harboring any preferences, they're deep down.
Innnnteresting.
At a holiday party on Saturday night, one of the agents in Hubby's office said: "Wow! You look like you're ready to pop right now."
Then, today, when picking something up from a store at the mall, the sales lady said (opening up my shirt to stare at my bump in awe): "Wow? Do you have twins in there?"
Finally, there was the co-worker who compared my size to a colleague who is 9 months pregnant.
(This is excluding the comment from my boss last month that he thought I did look fatter than he thought I should have at that point in my pregnancy.)
I mean, seriously. Even if I do look further advanced than people expect, what is it about being pregnant that eliminates people's "appropriateness" barriers? How would they feel if I responded back to them "Wow! How tall are you? Just 5 foot 1? You look you weigh enough to be 6ft tall!" (Don't put it past me to use this if there is a "fourth" such comment directed at me, especially from a stranger.)
Ok, so I never was the leanest, meanest chick on the block but I haven't put on that much extra weight overall and my bump is very firm; there's not a lot of squidginess on top. I'm no Nicole Richie (and have no plans to be) but I think I'm doing alright.
It's a good job I have thick skin, am not overly emotional, and don't take these things personally. I can imagine how some women could end up with a self-image issue with some of the crazy stuff people say to you when you're pregnant.
I'm also getting to the end of my tether on the "advice". Granted, I'm very greatful for it from family and friends in general, but from casual acquaintances or strangers - PUT A SOCK IN IT! I don't need you to preach to me about the 'right' parenting style, about what I should or should not be eating, what books I should be reading, how important breast-feeding is, how I will probably change my mind about having one kid after I fall in love with this one, or how I should be exercising. And as for the condescending, patronizing, know-it-all phrase "Oh, just you wait and see!" (or some variation thereof) it needs to be archived RIGHT NOW. You're right: I will see. On my own. I don't need you to color my expectations or experiences with yours thank you very much. If I'm going to screw this up (which I accept I will on occasion), I'm going to do it on my own steam. I just abhor people who seek to place their own limits or rules upon you for what you can or cannot do. They make me feel like pulling an Obama and screaming "YES I CAN!" in their smug, self-righteous faces. Better still, they make me want to do the very thing they said I can't or shouldn't just to piss them off. Even if they wound up being right, I would then write them an email about how I found no difficulty at all in xyz, and intended to do it ALL THE TIME from hereon out.
Harumpf.
At that same holiday party last weekend, I was chatting to one of those wonderful agents again (I have many agent friends, many are nice, this is not a reflection on all of them.) This agent was a 50-something man with a few grown-up children. He asked me how many children we were planning to have and when I said one, he looked at me in horror and asked why. When I explained that it was partly a financial decision and partly a lifestyle decision because we want to be able to travel, his response was: "Well, you can still travel. My family and I have traveled all over the world with our children. It's only money. " (Umm, yeah, wasn't that my point?)
I actually quite doubt that his idea of "all over the world" and mine are the same, since he drew another agent (who I do know better) into the conversation and used that person as an example olf someone who travels "extensively". (I know for a fact that "extensively" here means back and forth from their vacation home on the Hawaiian islands. Frequently does not equal extensively.)
And then he went on to say, in the patronizing way of someone who knows nothing about you but assumes he knows everything, "You know, you may travel and realize you don't actually like it."
This was the time at which I pulled out my "13 countries, 47 cities, in 33 years" travel history and threw it solidly in his face.
Not to be deterred, he then said, "Well, you may just see the face of that beautiful baby and decide that there's nothing more important than spending time with him or her, right here at home."
Clearly, he knows nothing at all about me.
And yes, I know, all you parents are right now thinking..."Oh, just you wait and see!"
SHEESH!
---------------------
Switching gears entirely... what's up with the new rotating 3D Baby Vixen on the right there? Prior to this week he/she has been curled up in a nice little ball but now his/her head is staring up into the air. What is this supposed to represent?
Last but not least: Had another dream last night. This time it was about the baby being a boy. I had a couple of tests that Hubby didn't accompany me to and the woman doing the tests accidentally referred to the baby as a boy. I was upset that I had found out and strangely disappointed. Secretly, in my dream at least, I guess I had been hoping to be wrong and for it to be a girl.
I'm not sure if this really how I feel because, of course, if it's hidden in my subconscious it's not laying on the surface for me to analyze. When I think about it consciously, I see beautiful things in having a son and wonderful things in having a daughter. If I'm harboring any preferences, they're deep down.
Innnnteresting.
Friday, December 12, 2008
24
Just a quick post to acknowledge that I am now 23 wks, in my 24th wk starting today. Next Friday, as I prepare to jet across the other side of the world for Christmas, I will be 6 MONTHS PREGNANT.
I THOUGHT this would put me in the 3rd trimester (you know, every 3 months = a new trimester) but, of course, the stupid odd number of weeks in a pregnancy foils me again.
According to one of those incredibly reliable online resources, http://www.baby2see.com/, possible dates for my third trimester to begin are:
January 6th for the Developmental Calendar
January 4th for the Gestational Calendar
January 9th for the Conception Calendar
To the best that I can determine, my doctor uses the Gestational Calendar. With this method you take the 40 weeks of gestation and divide by three. Here the second trimester begins at 13w 3d and the third at 26w.
So, we're going with the earliest date. Because it makes sense and because I like it better.
In other news, I noticed that some of you avid readers have switched your position on "Boy or Girl". Although I have the same number of votes (11), we've gone from a dead-heat of 5 and 5 for boy and girl and 1 jokester for the "other life form", to 6 to 4 for a boy. You know that Joss and I seem to have a hunch its a boy, although we readily acknowledge that we have no clue, but I'm interested to see why you guys changed your minds. If you are one of the swing voters, please comment and let me know. I'm just interested. If you haven't voted, what are you waiting for? You've got a 50/50 chance of being right for heaven's sake! If you reveal which way you voted and you end up being right, I might just make it worth your while ;o)
I THOUGHT this would put me in the 3rd trimester (you know, every 3 months = a new trimester) but, of course, the stupid odd number of weeks in a pregnancy foils me again.
According to one of those incredibly reliable online resources, http://www.baby2see.com/, possible dates for my third trimester to begin are:
January 6th for the Developmental Calendar
January 4th for the Gestational Calendar
January 9th for the Conception Calendar
To the best that I can determine, my doctor uses the Gestational Calendar. With this method you take the 40 weeks of gestation and divide by three. Here the second trimester begins at 13w 3d and the third at 26w.
So, we're going with the earliest date. Because it makes sense and because I like it better.
In other news, I noticed that some of you avid readers have switched your position on "Boy or Girl". Although I have the same number of votes (11), we've gone from a dead-heat of 5 and 5 for boy and girl and 1 jokester for the "other life form", to 6 to 4 for a boy. You know that Joss and I seem to have a hunch its a boy, although we readily acknowledge that we have no clue, but I'm interested to see why you guys changed your minds. If you are one of the swing voters, please comment and let me know. I'm just interested. If you haven't voted, what are you waiting for? You've got a 50/50 chance of being right for heaven's sake! If you reveal which way you voted and you end up being right, I might just make it worth your while ;o)
Thursday, December 11, 2008
Give it up for salads and wraps - woot woot!
This morning was my 23 week ObGyn check-up and I'm happy to say that all is well.
Weight Gain: 2.5 lbs. Yessssssssssss! Made up for last month's overage. Doctor was pleased. And for those of you who are 'tsking' me and worrying that I'm starving my baby, let me explain a few things.
First, I'm back to working out (if a little less strenuously) 5-6 times a week. I do two pre-natal yoga workouts a week, two regular pre-natal workouts from my Gabrielle Reice DVD, and two 30 minute "Firm" workouts with a resistance band (albeit with some pregnancy modifications).
Second, I'm craving salads, nuts, bran cereals, milk, sandwiches, soups, fruit, and fruit juice. In short, I'm eating much more healthfully than I did in my first trimester, where I was just grabbing whatever didn't make me feel nauseus.
Third, there just isn't much room in there any more for large intakes of food. My per-meal quota has definitely gone down. When I do over-eat, it feels like the skin on the front of my stomach is about to zip open. Yes, literally. This is very good motivation to keep portion sizes smaller.
So, don't worry about me. I'm eating regularly and healthfully and working out safely.
Belly Measurement: Quote: "...very good!" The doctor was very pleased with my growth. I'm right on target. Further vilification that baby is getting enough nutrition.
Ultrasound Results: Everything looks a-ok. No signs of anything for concern. Size = as expected for this far along.
Baby's Heartbeat: Strong and healthy.
Next appointment 4 weeks from now when I also get to book the next big blood test - the one with the glucose. I'm super excited about that because I believe it takes two hours and you need to get stuck twice during that time. That will be really fun since I only have one good vein.
After the next appointment I'll also get instructions on how to monitor the number of kicks that baby gives me throughout the day. It's getting more frequent already and I think I'll need a notepad for this one - my pregnancy brain is like a sieve!
Weight Gain: 2.5 lbs. Yessssssssssss! Made up for last month's overage. Doctor was pleased. And for those of you who are 'tsking' me and worrying that I'm starving my baby, let me explain a few things.
First, I'm back to working out (if a little less strenuously) 5-6 times a week. I do two pre-natal yoga workouts a week, two regular pre-natal workouts from my Gabrielle Reice DVD, and two 30 minute "Firm" workouts with a resistance band (albeit with some pregnancy modifications).
Second, I'm craving salads, nuts, bran cereals, milk, sandwiches, soups, fruit, and fruit juice. In short, I'm eating much more healthfully than I did in my first trimester, where I was just grabbing whatever didn't make me feel nauseus.
Third, there just isn't much room in there any more for large intakes of food. My per-meal quota has definitely gone down. When I do over-eat, it feels like the skin on the front of my stomach is about to zip open. Yes, literally. This is very good motivation to keep portion sizes smaller.
So, don't worry about me. I'm eating regularly and healthfully and working out safely.
Belly Measurement: Quote: "...very good!" The doctor was very pleased with my growth. I'm right on target. Further vilification that baby is getting enough nutrition.
Ultrasound Results: Everything looks a-ok. No signs of anything for concern. Size = as expected for this far along.
Baby's Heartbeat: Strong and healthy.
Next appointment 4 weeks from now when I also get to book the next big blood test - the one with the glucose. I'm super excited about that because I believe it takes two hours and you need to get stuck twice during that time. That will be really fun since I only have one good vein.
After the next appointment I'll also get instructions on how to monitor the number of kicks that baby gives me throughout the day. It's getting more frequent already and I think I'll need a notepad for this one - my pregnancy brain is like a sieve!
Tuesday, December 9, 2008
22 weeks and counting
Does my belly make my ass look smaller?
22/23 weeks and we're into the home stretch. By my calculations, I have only 19/20 weeks left - barring baby delaying the event, of course.
As you can see, the belly is growing. From this picture I'm pleased to report that my disproportionate mid-section may have done the seemingly impossible: made my butt look smaller. Yes, it's time to find joy in the small things.
Other small things...
Heartburn: Check. Having never really had heartburn before (I know, lucky me!) I wasn't really sure what the acid burn in my throat was. After two days I clued in. (Ya think?)
Nicknames: Usually, the creation of nicknames for people and dogs is an organic process for Hubby and I - they just 'appear' out of regular conversation. For instance, my dog Frankie has MANY: Frankster, Meat Head, Doobie, Doobie-do, Doober, Boober, Boob, Boobie, L'il Doober, Blankie Frankie... I could go on but I'm sure you get the picture.
While eating dinner last night, however, we realized that the most creative we'd got with our growing spawn was "Baby". Ahem. So we decided to try and come up with one there and then. It wasn't exactly the creative brainstorming session to end all creative brainstorming sessions (probably the result of the location being IHOP on Senior Night). I think our final selection was "L'il D", somehow emerging from Hubby's last name, I don't even remember how now.
For some reason, Hubby seems to want to call the baby "Maybe". He thinks it's hilarious. I'm just not getting the joke and so far none of his lame explanations have been sufficient. Naming anything related to me with a word that suggests procrastination and indecision just goes against the grain of my very being. I tried for "Definitely" but he wasn't having any.
On this blog I've toyed with "Vixen Baby" but this seems a bit inappropriate if it's a boy and, anyway, it doesn't exactly roll off the tongue. Outside our little family unit "The Bump" and "It" seem to suffice in regular conversation.
So, "nickname" remains an unchecked box, I think... Thank God we found the real names easier to come up with!
Nursery: Almost done. Crib and changing table went up on Sunday. Purchased ceiling fan for installation this weekend. Still left to do: hem curtains, cut blinds, buy new door, buy side table, and add finishing touches like pictures and wall decorations. Will post pics when considered somewhat 'complete'. (As a sneak-peak, the pic of me above shows me in front of one of the walls in that room.)
Kicking: Yes. Lots now. At 2am this morning I woke up for no reason I could discern and changed positions. Unfortunately baby didn't seem to like the new spot I'd picked out for us and decided to let me know in no uncertain terms that I needed to choose again. The kicks/punches/turns or whatever they are, are definitely getting stronger and I can already imagine a day when they'll become quite uncomfortable (some already are) and capable of preventing me from sleeping. The kicks are also getting more frequent - or they're just getting stronger so I can feel them more often now, not sure which. Now baby seems to kick a lot in the morning when I sit down to work, kick whenever I'm driving or in a car, and kick when I sit down at night to watch TV. I'm just hoping I'm not having a "mini-me" - my mother gleefully reports that I only kicked whenever she was sitting or laying down. Worse news is that I was probably preparing her for my one-hour-a-day sleeping habits once born.
Bad Dreams: I'd heard that pregnancy could prompt uneasy dreams. That certainly seems to be true of me lately. Last night Hubby and I were running from a gunman who seemed to have taken a small casino (?) hostage. We ran into someone's house for shelter and they locked all the doors. But when I went to the bathroom, I noticed that the large window didn't have a lock and just at that moment the gunman removed the window screen and climbed through to take everyone in the house hostage. I was then gagged and hooked-up to a small explosive device in the bathroom, with a trigger tied to the handle, whereupon I woke up. (Not the 2am wake-up... that was later after several more disturbing half-dreams.) Anyone who can interpret that lot is definitely welcome to.
So, what's up with "L'il D"?
(Nah, not working for me either)
According to one of the million e-newsletters that populate my personal email, here is a quick update on baby's progress:
At eight inches and slightly over a pound, your baby is the size and shape of a small doll. (But then, you already knew that you were carrying a living doll, didn't you?) This week marks the beginning of some serious weight gain. Your baby's weight in the next four weeks alone should double (and you may feel as though yours is too).
You have probably heard your baby's heartbeat through a Doppler a number of times already (though you never get tired of hearing it), but by now you can also hear it through a standard stethoscope. What a heart throb!
Your baby's skin is reddish in color now because of the developing blood vessels underneath (remember, the skin is very thin still). It also hangs loosely from his or her little body at this point. That's because the skin grows faster than the fat develops. But don't worry. By the time your baby is born, he or she will be pleasantly plump and filled out — from chubby cheeks to chubby toes.
And thus concludes this week's update. Next ObGyn appointment is this Thursday, so we'll get to see if I have been successful in stemming the excessive weight gain from last month. Yup, really looking forward to THAT.
TTFN.
Tuesday, December 2, 2008
Baby doctor. CHECK.
Today Hubby and I interviewed my "spin the bottle" selection for Pediatrician.
I have to say, I've got much better at spin the bottle since my school days ;o)
There really isn't that much substantive information online about doctors and, sure enough, getting a recommendation is ny-on impossible (not the fault of my mommy friends, I might add - its the restrictive med system). So the only thing I have to rely upon is a brief profile on my medical group website. This was how I found my PCP who, as you know by now, I love love love.
My theory is that any doctor who takes the time to complete more than the perfunctory name, education, creditations, and contact information in their online profile has to have a leg-up on their competition. To me, someone who writes a paragraph about their patient care philosophy and why they love their job is more likely (although not guaranteed) to have a compassionate, patient-focused bedside manner.
After reviewing the site for pediatricians, I found only 2 that bothered to do just that. It may not be a perfect weeding-out process but it definitely demonstrates that not everyone can be bothered to go the extra mile. Clearly, I'm looking for one of those docs who 'goes the extra mile'.
So, we met her today and we instantly loved her. Big, bright smile, engaging, talkative... perfect for "us". She only works part time and shares her job with another pediatrician she has been working with for many years and who, she said, shares the same bedside manner and medical philosophies as her. There are also 2 other pediatricians on-site for emergencies, in case we can't get one of them. She describes her and her fellow doctor's style as more "hand-holding" than the other two, male doctors (perfect for first-time parents who are prone to bouts of midnight freak-outs) but said they have similar medical approaches and qualifications. There is also an on-call nurse available 24/7. On the 2 days a week she doesn't work, she chairs the Pediatrics board at the hospital next door - another good sign.
Her medical philosophy is pretty much "realism". She's got two grown-up kids of her own who were born while she was at medical school and, although she would have loved to breast-feed them, her job didn't provide her with the time out to "pump", so she had to use formula. Although she thinks breast feeding is good for the baby and encourages you to try it at least, she also recognizes that it has to work for you and dislikes mothers or fathers feeling guilty about their decision not to breast feed. She also showed the appropriate amount of disdain for those La Leche freaks I have heard so many horror stories about and provided me with some advice on how to deal with them at the hospital when the time comes.
Overall, she seemed to love her job, have genuine enthusiasm for the people she works with, and want to engage on more than just a perfunctory level with her patients. All my boxes were ticked and even Hubby was suitably impressed.
Yay!
So, only just half-baked, baby already has the nicest room in the house and his/her own doctor. Spoiled brat!
I have to say, I've got much better at spin the bottle since my school days ;o)
There really isn't that much substantive information online about doctors and, sure enough, getting a recommendation is ny-on impossible (not the fault of my mommy friends, I might add - its the restrictive med system). So the only thing I have to rely upon is a brief profile on my medical group website. This was how I found my PCP who, as you know by now, I love love love.
My theory is that any doctor who takes the time to complete more than the perfunctory name, education, creditations, and contact information in their online profile has to have a leg-up on their competition. To me, someone who writes a paragraph about their patient care philosophy and why they love their job is more likely (although not guaranteed) to have a compassionate, patient-focused bedside manner.
After reviewing the site for pediatricians, I found only 2 that bothered to do just that. It may not be a perfect weeding-out process but it definitely demonstrates that not everyone can be bothered to go the extra mile. Clearly, I'm looking for one of those docs who 'goes the extra mile'.
So, we met her today and we instantly loved her. Big, bright smile, engaging, talkative... perfect for "us". She only works part time and shares her job with another pediatrician she has been working with for many years and who, she said, shares the same bedside manner and medical philosophies as her. There are also 2 other pediatricians on-site for emergencies, in case we can't get one of them. She describes her and her fellow doctor's style as more "hand-holding" than the other two, male doctors (perfect for first-time parents who are prone to bouts of midnight freak-outs) but said they have similar medical approaches and qualifications. There is also an on-call nurse available 24/7. On the 2 days a week she doesn't work, she chairs the Pediatrics board at the hospital next door - another good sign.
Her medical philosophy is pretty much "realism". She's got two grown-up kids of her own who were born while she was at medical school and, although she would have loved to breast-feed them, her job didn't provide her with the time out to "pump", so she had to use formula. Although she thinks breast feeding is good for the baby and encourages you to try it at least, she also recognizes that it has to work for you and dislikes mothers or fathers feeling guilty about their decision not to breast feed. She also showed the appropriate amount of disdain for those La Leche freaks I have heard so many horror stories about and provided me with some advice on how to deal with them at the hospital when the time comes.
Overall, she seemed to love her job, have genuine enthusiasm for the people she works with, and want to engage on more than just a perfunctory level with her patients. All my boxes were ticked and even Hubby was suitably impressed.
Yay!
So, only just half-baked, baby already has the nicest room in the house and his/her own doctor. Spoiled brat!
Monday, December 1, 2008
No, I didn't swallow the Thanksgiving turkey
Yes, this is me in all my 21 weeks pregnant glory on Thanksgiving day, looking to all the world like I swallowed the 26lb bird whole.
Note, the drink in my hand is HiC not Chardonnay. I think this should be recorded for prosterity - given what is 'coming', this could be the last Thanksgiving you'll see me entirely sober. Thanks Hubby for this 'candid' shot.
So, we've established that my belly is growing... what other delights can I share with you from my 6th month?
Movement: Baby has joined an Olympic Gymnastics team and is almost certainly going for Gold. Activity in-womb has definitely picked-up in the last week or so. Hubby actually felt Vixen Baby practicing a double-somersault the other morning. I gave that one a 9.0. The 'flutters' have become more intense and seem now to go in all directions - outwards, sidewards, inwards, and downwards. Yes, downwards. This manifests as one of two extremely uncomfortable feelings: (1) the bladder kick and (2) the cervix kick. #1 is annoying/irritating, #2 is a tad painful. Lets just say that some doors should only be knocked on from the outside. Ahem.
Of course, now if I don't feel the baby kick for a few hours I'm starting to wonder what the heck is up. Great, parental anxiety is already kicking in (if you pardon the punn). I'll be sure to knock that one on the head asap.
Food aversions: any tomato-based sauce or soup and red meat.
Food cravings: None. It's a moment-by-moment thing for me and has been throughout, although I'm always partial to a baked potato, scrambled eggs, or a wrap.
Constipation: Yes.
Other symptoms: Nasal congestion/sneezing fits continue as do the eye-crossing ligament twinges that double you over if you don't stand just the right way mid-sneeze.
As most of you know I've pretty much sworn-off reading any pregnancy or parenting books. Hubby and I plan to go to all the necessary birth and parenting classes provded by our med group in the New Year, but are otherwise not filling our heads with a ton of parenting cautionary tales, fads, theories or techniques. Everyone has an opinion on this, I'm sure, especially if you are a parent, but this is our personal choice. It could prove to be revolultionarily freeing or monumentally stupid. I guess we'll find out for ourselves.
Our theory is that too much information can be paralyzing, so we're sticking to obtaining the basic facts, listening to advice from friends and family, and (when the time comes) evaluating what's best for our baby on an "as it comes" basis. Maybe we'll change our minds after two weeks of sleepless nights or during the hundredth terrible-two tantrum - and we're totally open to that. Open, open, open... that's our motto. (I exclude natural birth from this philosophy. Here I'm open, open, open to the drugs, baby!)
I did actually think that this vacuum of information would be tough to do with my personality but it has been amazingly easy. I read "What to Expect When You're Expecting" cover-to-cover in my first month and haven't opened the thing since. I haven't felt the urge to, quite frankly. Unlike other events in my life, I just haven't felt the need to analyze and understand it from every possible angle via 12 different books and websites. Fortunately (and knock on wood), I've had a normal, healthy pregnancy without complications; the whole process has been very natural and without incident. I figure that women have been doing this for as long as we've been on the earth and they didn't have books, websites, and DVDs to help them out. I'm fortunate enough to live in an age where I have doctors, regular check-ups, diagnostic tests, and scans to catch any issues. I don't see any reason to fill my head with a list of potential issues that could arise or philosophies about how I can make my baby the next Einstein before it even leaves the womb. Again, this is just me, I'm not knocking people who want to do this. This feels right to me.
However, with all this said, there is one book I just started reading this weekend that is absolutely my kind of parenting book. My sister-in-law gave it to me on Thanksgiving and I think she found my mommy-soul-mate.
"Sippy Cups Are Not For Chardonnay" by Stephanie Wilder-Taylor, has had me laughing out-loud all weekend. From quotes like "If you're holding your baby 24/7, that's not a baby, that's a tumor", to her theory that 'love at first sight' after delivery is merely the result of narcotic euphoria, Stephanie's tales of negotiating parenthood for the first time are down-to-earth, humorous, and common-sensical. Not a whiff of condescension to be found. I love it! Even if you're one of those mothers who would consider Stephanie's parenting philosophies as outstandingly lackadaisical, I defy you not to laugh at her mince-no-words advice. Here's an example from the chapter about keeping your kidless friends, post-baby:
"Next, you know how your new-mom companions are never available to go out? Well, news flash, you aren't much either. If you have any single girlfriends left, and they are willing to stay friends with you despite your new all-consuming responsibility, you need to make an effort and meet them halfway! For the friends who are with it you've gotta get your ass in the game once in a
while. No one expects you to go out every night or even every week, and they know you're not available on the spur of the moment. But now and then, even if you don't feel like it, you must force yourself to go out and have fun without your baby, or you'll shortly be dropped from everyone's Evite lists... Okay, so you can't drop all and fly to Vegas for your best friend's bachelorette blowout, but you can still buy her the biggest turbocharged dildo the world has ever seen! Yeah, I said that, and I'm a mom!"
How do I meet this woman????
Although there's not a parental philosophy in sight and she does play-up humor for dramatic effect, there's also no sugar-coating the parental experience: breast feeding does hurt, your post-delivery hormones do leave you a blubbery mess, and getting your baby to sleep through the night is a nightmare.
I love books like this because they seem 'real' to me. Hearing about the difficulties of a new mother struggling to keep her identity and her sanity, is much more refreshing and comforting that reading books by uber-moms who seem to have the whole thing down to an art or parenting 'experts' who seem to think parenting is like training a dog - ie: it's all your fault that your dog/baby can't roll over and high-five you after 30 minutes of the correct 'parenting'. (Seriously, it can't be a mistake that there is both a Dog Whisperer and a Baby Whisperer out there!) All of this, I think, has a tendency to leave you feeling less than adequate at the end of the day. I already know I won't be the perfect parent. Heck, I'm not the perfect wife, daughter, or employee either. So, I don't need to be reminded of the 365 different ways I could be doing better for my baby - I get reviews at work, thank you. So, I'm just going to do my best and try not to be racked with guilt and anxiety about all the things I'm not doing right or at all.
I guess we'll see how it goes...
Thursday, November 20, 2008
It's official. I'm in denial.
You've heard me say this before on this blog: I keep waiting for the next big milestone to come before I will 'feel' pregnant. Well, I'm 5 months in tomorrow and am now convinced there's no milestone that is coming that is going to work on that front.
It's just not real.
Not even seeing the baby wriggle around on the ultrasound screen on Monday made a significant impact on me. It was like it was in someone else's belly, even though I knew, rationally, that the ultrasound was sliding around on me. Even my bump, despite being evidently 'there' both from a visual and sensory perspective, just seems like the result of too many Chinese take-outs.
I guess I'm having trouble emotionally connecting with the experience right now. It's just not what I expected and maybe that's the problem. I may have had a set idea in my head about what it felt like to be pregnant and its matching up to reality. Maybe the birth is just too far away for me to get excited about right now? Maybe I'm trying not to think about the birth so I don't hyperventilate and faint? Who knows? That's a little too much psychonalysis at this point. All I know is what I'm feeling or, to be more specific, not feeling.
In reality, I shouldn't be all that surprised. It's not like am an overly emotional person to begin with. Aparently even the notorious pregnancy hormones have little effect on that for me - I'm not crying at ads, movies, or news reports (at least not yet).
Yet, it seems that I was somehow expecting something major to change that would sort of smack me upside the head and all of a sudden I would wake up one day and feel this deep, emotional connection to this process. Instead, it's 9-10 months of small changes and adjustments that easily slip by without much notice on my part.
Don't worry, however. It's not like I don't care or am, somehow, emotionally bereft. I'm not feeling negative about my pregnancy or the baby (although its hard not to feel a little doomy and gloomy with all the economic news lately and hearing how the hard times are affecting friends and family) and am genuinely looking forward to meeting Baby Vixen. I guess it's just different to how I imagined and maybe that just is how its going to be for me. So, I'm going to enjoy it for what is (or isn't) and (as, I think, Ray Charles said) accept that "It's gonna do what it's gonna do, baby."
It's just not real.
Not even seeing the baby wriggle around on the ultrasound screen on Monday made a significant impact on me. It was like it was in someone else's belly, even though I knew, rationally, that the ultrasound was sliding around on me. Even my bump, despite being evidently 'there' both from a visual and sensory perspective, just seems like the result of too many Chinese take-outs.
I guess I'm having trouble emotionally connecting with the experience right now. It's just not what I expected and maybe that's the problem. I may have had a set idea in my head about what it felt like to be pregnant and its matching up to reality. Maybe the birth is just too far away for me to get excited about right now? Maybe I'm trying not to think about the birth so I don't hyperventilate and faint? Who knows? That's a little too much psychonalysis at this point. All I know is what I'm feeling or, to be more specific, not feeling.
In reality, I shouldn't be all that surprised. It's not like am an overly emotional person to begin with. Aparently even the notorious pregnancy hormones have little effect on that for me - I'm not crying at ads, movies, or news reports (at least not yet).
Yet, it seems that I was somehow expecting something major to change that would sort of smack me upside the head and all of a sudden I would wake up one day and feel this deep, emotional connection to this process. Instead, it's 9-10 months of small changes and adjustments that easily slip by without much notice on my part.
Don't worry, however. It's not like I don't care or am, somehow, emotionally bereft. I'm not feeling negative about my pregnancy or the baby (although its hard not to feel a little doomy and gloomy with all the economic news lately and hearing how the hard times are affecting friends and family) and am genuinely looking forward to meeting Baby Vixen. I guess it's just different to how I imagined and maybe that just is how its going to be for me. So, I'm going to enjoy it for what is (or isn't) and (as, I think, Ray Charles said) accept that "It's gonna do what it's gonna do, baby."
Monday, November 17, 2008
All lubed-up and raring to go!
Ohhh mygod! I had no idea that they would be using so much lube for one ultrasound! I felt like a basted turkey ready for the oven
Ok, so yes, let's back up. This morning was our 5 month ultrasound. First, let's begin with the father - Hubby o'mine
We arrived approximately 5 minutes early, checked-in, at which point Hubby decided he absolutely must have a cup of coffee. So he disappeared. Of course, the technician came out and called my name while he was still (inexplicably) gone. I had to beg forgiveness and request a couple of extra minutes while he returned "from the bathroom" (I felt too stupid to tell them that he had deserted me for caffeine.) Of course, she disappeared behind the door again, promising to return in a few minutes, just as Hubby walked in, steaming coffee in hand. Seconds too late.
Ok, so yes, let's back up. This morning was our 5 month ultrasound. First, let's begin with the father - Hubby o'mine
We arrived approximately 5 minutes early, checked-in, at which point Hubby decided he absolutely must have a cup of coffee. So he disappeared. Of course, the technician came out and called my name while he was still (inexplicably) gone. I had to beg forgiveness and request a couple of extra minutes while he returned "from the bathroom" (I felt too stupid to tell them that he had deserted me for caffeine.) Of course, she disappeared behind the door again, promising to return in a few minutes, just as Hubby walked in, steaming coffee in hand. Seconds too late.
"I just got called!" I moaned, a deserted 5-month pregnant woman, standing in the middle of the waiting room, scolwing at my husband and aware that everyone watching me thought this was highly amusing. "Now we have to wait for her to come out for us again." Groaned, sighed, harumpfed, plonked myself back down on the seat.
At that time I didn't need to pee.
Then, for some reason, Hubby stood expectantly with his coffee at the front desk. When the receptionist got off the phone he made some song and dance about the technician coming back out for us because we were "ready now". The woman looked at him quizzically as I whispered through clenched teath, "She said she would be back out in a few minutes. SIT DOWN!"
If everyone wasn't looking at us before, they were then. The man a few seats away looked up from his smartphone and smiled.
Several minutes later, and by the time I got called, I really needed to pee.
Unlike in the movies or on the TV, there was no hospital gown or big, bright room with equipment. We were led into a dark room smaller than most people's broom closets and housing an ultrasound that didn't, quite honestly, look any more hefty than the one at the ObGyn's office. I thought this thing was supposed to be super-duper-ultrasound or something?
Anyway, I got to keep my clothes on (something I've been able to do surprisingly a lot during all these appointments - not nearly as much baring of the bits and blood-letting as I was led to believe before getting pregnant.) UNFORTUNATELY, this meant my pants and top were subject to stray globs of warm lubrication.
I kid you not, during the course of the 30-45 minute ultrasound, she must have used 1.5 shampoo-sized bottles of warm lubricant on my belly! I was beginning to think I should ask how much it cost per bottle - could we reduce our insurance co-payments if they weren't quite so generous?
Everything began a little awkwardly. First, I was experiencing a contraction (or so she said) as a result of my incredibly full bladder, so we had to wait for that to subside. Then, the baby wouldn't cooperate at all because of the bladder. So, I had to go to the bathroom to "just pee a little" to see if we could make some room in there. Yes, despite busting a gut, I had to flee the room, pants around groin, belly hot and sticky with lubricant, and let some pee out, but not too much, stopping mid-flow. (Thank God for kegels, is all I can say.)
Then, post-mini-pee, the technician began to quiz me about how much water I drink (not a lot) as if she could see something wrong 'in there'. I got a ten minute lecture on drinking water constantly throughout the day before being told that there was actually nothing wrong with the baby to initiate it.
Finally, baby behaved like a shy taco for almost the entire session, showing us his/her back and bunching into a ball. We did catch glimpses of all the major body parts but, by 30 minutes in, were still missing a left arm. I had to take two breaks where I layed on my side(s) in order to see if we could move the little sucker, so we could see and label a left arm for the doctor. For some reason he/she kept throwing the right arm towards us but kept the left one tucked back. I'm telling you, this kid would not be good at the Hokey Pokey!
Aside from the embarassment of being deserted by my husband for a cup of coffee, absorbing enough lubricant to ultrasound a cow, and having baby play hide-and-seek, it was really very cool to spend an uninterrupted 30-45 minutes watching our baby move around. We got peeks of eyes (somewhat alien-like but at least there are two on either side and nothing in the middle), arms moving, legs crossing and uncrossing, mouth opening and closing, spine, brain, and all four ventricles of the heart beating away at a healthy 135 bpm. During the course of the ultrasound, baby flipped from back-facing to front-facing and back again, and from head left to head right, and back again. It doesn't look like there's much room to move around in there but baby is sure making the most of what room there is!
At the end of it all, we got a disc of 18 pictures (twice as many as normal, I'd like to think because we're just a charming trio) most of which you wouldn't be able to decipher as stills. But, here are a couple that might make sense.
Baby face forward. Head to left. Spine running down center.
A face close-up.
Baby got back.
And there you have it. Everything appeared to be fine, according to the tech. Baby's heart-rate is good, size is on-target for how many weeks I am, due-date still around 4/10-ish.
Probably the last time we'll see baby before he/she joins us in April. Bye bye baby!
Friday, November 14, 2008
I gave in.
"The Bump" at 19 weeks
Since it's now been widely acknowledged that I am no longer even close to pre-pregnancy sizing, I finally gave in and decided to start a belly gallery. If nothing else, if I know that I have to take a pic every 2-3 weeks, it will keep me selecting salads vs. fries on the menu.
So, here are the first two belly pics for our new VixenBaby gallery. Honestly, I'm more upset I can't have an apple martini than I am about my burgeoning waistline right now...
Does that smile look forced to you????
Thursday, November 13, 2008
Slooooow down Mama!
5 month (or thereabouts) pregnancy check-up today with my ObGyn.
After 4 visits, I think I've finally come to an opinion about her: She doesn't have much of a sense of humor and she's been doing this so long she's now just going through the motions. As someone who is having a "normal" pregnancy, I pose no interest or challenge to her beyond the routine measurements and checks. Weight gain? Blood pressure? Belly measurement? Doppler the heartbeat. Ask perfunctory questions: "How are you feeling?", "Do you have any questions?". Hand-over slip of paper for follow-up visit. Disappear to next appointment. Repeat in 4 weeks.
Don't get me wrong, everything I've heard and read about her medical competence is glowing but her bedside manner isn't exactly... shall we say... inspiring? I guess I'm spoiled by my PCP who I could seriously see myself on a girls night out with. I can't reasonably expect to want to be best friends with every doctor that attends me. BUT, given that this is supposedly a fairly exciting time for me and Hubby, a little more than perfunctory interest (even if feigned) would help me to feel like I had some kind of relationship with this woman who is going to be there on one of the most important and stressful days of my life.
The one thing that makes up for it is the fact that her nurses are all the complete opposite - friendly, enthusiastic, and inquisitive. So you don't come away feeling entirely as though you're just another name in the computer.
That said, the important things to report are:
After 4 visits, I think I've finally come to an opinion about her: She doesn't have much of a sense of humor and she's been doing this so long she's now just going through the motions. As someone who is having a "normal" pregnancy, I pose no interest or challenge to her beyond the routine measurements and checks. Weight gain? Blood pressure? Belly measurement? Doppler the heartbeat. Ask perfunctory questions: "How are you feeling?", "Do you have any questions?". Hand-over slip of paper for follow-up visit. Disappear to next appointment. Repeat in 4 weeks.
Don't get me wrong, everything I've heard and read about her medical competence is glowing but her bedside manner isn't exactly... shall we say... inspiring? I guess I'm spoiled by my PCP who I could seriously see myself on a girls night out with. I can't reasonably expect to want to be best friends with every doctor that attends me. BUT, given that this is supposedly a fairly exciting time for me and Hubby, a little more than perfunctory interest (even if feigned) would help me to feel like I had some kind of relationship with this woman who is going to be there on one of the most important and stressful days of my life.
The one thing that makes up for it is the fact that her nurses are all the complete opposite - friendly, enthusiastic, and inquisitive. So you don't come away feeling entirely as though you're just another name in the computer.
That said, the important things to report are:
- Genetic screening test came back negative on all counts. Breathe a sigh of relief - I'm so glad I don't have to think about doing that amnio!
- Baby's heartbeat is good - although it did take some agonizing minutes to find the little squirt as it dodged the doppler.
- My blood pressure is good - nothing new there. I have really low blood pressure typically.
- Weight gain... weeell... not so good. 6 lbs over 4 weeks, so about 2lbs more than they wanted. Mama needs to slow down on the "eating whatever she wants" game, unfortunately, and pick back up the exercising. Honestly, there's no reason why I can't or shouldn't - I feel good and have the energy, I've just been lazy and self indulgent. But enough now. Time to buckle back down to eating more sensibly and working out more consistently. PLUS, Hubby weighed himself and he's now 11lbs lighter than me. I know I'm pregnant but seriously, he needs to pack on some pounds and I need to slooow down.
Task for the next 4 weeks (aside from upping the exercise and lowering the calorie intake) is to find a pediatrician for the baby. I had no idea we had to do this so early on but do it we must.
This is a bit of a daunting task because I seriously don't know where to start. Most of my friends live in completely different areas and are not member of the Mercy Medical Group, which I belong to. MM Group has a fairly restrictive network of doctors that I can choose from and they're not doctors that accept patients from other medical groups and visa versa - its sort of like a mini Kaiser (if you're in the U.S. and know what that means). To the best of my knowledge, none of my mama friends are MM Group patients. In short, a referral seems unlikely.
The ObGyn mentioned two doctors in the same building that we could choose from but it sounded more like a convenience referral than one of glowing praise based upon extensive experience working with them. I'm going to try calling my PCP to see if she has any recommendations, since I trust her a little more to understand me and what I would be looking for in a doctor. Beyond that, it's going to be good old fashioned spin the bottle - pretty much how I found my PCP. Look on the website, read the profile (if they bothered to fill out anything beyond name and professional accreditations), look at the picture for a long time, and take a chance. I know, great.
Anyway, that's it from pregnancy land right now. Monday is the big ultrasound. More then, unless something new crops up before.
TTFN.
Tuesday, November 11, 2008
Does this look comfortable to YOU?
Ok, seriously, no wonder these things start kicking you early on. That can't be comfy. The poor thing looks like a multi-jointed contortionist.What's crazy is that this ball of limbs is still only 8 1/2 ounces and 6 inches long, head to bottom - sort of like a small Subway sandwich. (No $5 foot-longs yet).
Nope, now I've said it, I won't be eating one of those for a while.
Wednesday, November 5, 2008
Twitch
Week 19 and baby Vixen has begun to let his or her presence known.
Now, when sitting down in the evening to watch tv, a little, almost imperceptable twitch alerts me to baby's growth. It feels a bit like when you get a twitch in your eye, except inside, in your abdomen. I can't get all that excited right now because it's not something I can share with Hubby. As yet, the "twitches" cannot be felt by the human hand and so he's sort of shut out of this for now. Honestly, I don't think I'll get excited until he can experience it too. I'm a sharer, I can't help it.
Otherwise this part of pregnancy has proven to be pretty non-eventful, aside from a growing, firm mound on the front of my body (I know, shocker, right?). I'm thankful, of course, for the "uneventfulness". No news is good news. No adverse symptoms is even better news. Having not seen the baby since week 9, I'm looking forward to our first big ultrasound in 2 weeks. In case you didn't know, although we probably could find out, we don't plan to discover whether baby is boy or girl - so don't email me for the "results". I will, however, post any other relevant information provided to me by the technician as well as my blow-by-blow account of trying to hold-in a gallon of pee for an excrutiatingly long time. I bet you just CAN'T WAIT!
In other news, Hubby and I are off on our "Babymoon" this weekend. 2.5 days in Seattle at a swank downtown hotel, mooching around stores, plodding around Pike's Place Market, revelling in the cool weather, pampering ourselves with in room massages, and eating at ridiculously expensive and fancy restaurants. The 11th is our 2nd wedding anniversary and our last without baby, so we're going to make the most of it.
Now, when sitting down in the evening to watch tv, a little, almost imperceptable twitch alerts me to baby's growth. It feels a bit like when you get a twitch in your eye, except inside, in your abdomen. I can't get all that excited right now because it's not something I can share with Hubby. As yet, the "twitches" cannot be felt by the human hand and so he's sort of shut out of this for now. Honestly, I don't think I'll get excited until he can experience it too. I'm a sharer, I can't help it.
Otherwise this part of pregnancy has proven to be pretty non-eventful, aside from a growing, firm mound on the front of my body (I know, shocker, right?). I'm thankful, of course, for the "uneventfulness". No news is good news. No adverse symptoms is even better news. Having not seen the baby since week 9, I'm looking forward to our first big ultrasound in 2 weeks. In case you didn't know, although we probably could find out, we don't plan to discover whether baby is boy or girl - so don't email me for the "results". I will, however, post any other relevant information provided to me by the technician as well as my blow-by-blow account of trying to hold-in a gallon of pee for an excrutiatingly long time. I bet you just CAN'T WAIT!
In other news, Hubby and I are off on our "Babymoon" this weekend. 2.5 days in Seattle at a swank downtown hotel, mooching around stores, plodding around Pike's Place Market, revelling in the cool weather, pampering ourselves with in room massages, and eating at ridiculously expensive and fancy restaurants. The 11th is our 2nd wedding anniversary and our last without baby, so we're going to make the most of it.
Tuesday, November 4, 2008
15 things to focus on for the next 5 months
From babycenter.com, a list of GOOD things that change when you have a baby.
1. You finally stop to smell the roses, because your baby is in your arms.
2. Where you once believed you were fearless, you now find yourself afraid.
3. The sacrifices you thought you made to have a child no longer seem like sacrifices.
4. You respect your body ... finally.
5. You respect your parents and love them in a new way.
6. You find that your baby's pain feels much worse than your own.
7. You believe once again in the things you believed in as a child.
8. You lose touch with the people in your life whom you should have banished years ago.
9. Your heart breaks much more easily.
10. You think of someone else 234,836,178,976 times a day.
11. Every day is a surprise.
12. Bodily functions are no longer repulsive. In fact, they please you. (Hooray for poop!)
13. You look at your baby in the mirror instead of yourself.
14. You become a morning person.
15. Your love becomes limitless, a superhuman power.
1. You finally stop to smell the roses, because your baby is in your arms.
2. Where you once believed you were fearless, you now find yourself afraid.
3. The sacrifices you thought you made to have a child no longer seem like sacrifices.
4. You respect your body ... finally.
5. You respect your parents and love them in a new way.
6. You find that your baby's pain feels much worse than your own.
7. You believe once again in the things you believed in as a child.
8. You lose touch with the people in your life whom you should have banished years ago.
9. Your heart breaks much more easily.
10. You think of someone else 234,836,178,976 times a day.
11. Every day is a surprise.
12. Bodily functions are no longer repulsive. In fact, they please you. (Hooray for poop!)
13. You look at your baby in the mirror instead of yourself.
14. You become a morning person.
15. Your love becomes limitless, a superhuman power.
Wednesday, October 29, 2008
VEINS
That's the word of the day. Veins, veins, everywhere.
On Monday I had to go get some blood taken, which we all know I love so much. I do not have good veins either, which just adds to the joy. You can't get a vein on my left arm for love nor money and the good vein in my right arm is "hidden". This I have to tell every new technician I enounter - this and the "you better find me a bed or I'll faint." Yes, I'm not an easy customer.
Unfortunately my one good vein is a "roller" and this time, just as she got in, it rolled away from her. Fortunately, I wasn't looking (too busy squeezing my eyes shut and trying to remember to breath) and so did not know. Double fortuitously, I had a pro. "Can you take a deep breath in and then a slow exhale?" she said with so much calm that I had no idea there was an issue. On the exhale I felt a little sting and prickle and only then did she tell me that she had to withdraw the needle a tad and go hunting for the offending vein. Dang, I'm glad she didn't give me a blow-by-blow.
The result of this quick and relatively painless issue was that I now look like either a drug addict or a lab rat - take your pick. The inside of my right arm is bruised around the vein and, just by coincidence, I have some scratches from my dog in the same area. I told Hubby that if he wasn't nice to me, I would report him for spousal abuse. Of course, nobody would believe HE could beat up ME, but that's another issue...
Still on the subject of veins, my chest and boobs look like a road map for inner London. I got out of the shower this morning and almost recoiled in horror. Where did these things come from? Of course, it's not news to me that pregnant women get blue veins appear around their chest area, but it was news to me that they would suddenly appear overnight.
Unfortunately, I have not been blessed with overflowing cleavage as yet and am doubtful that I will reach the buxom heights of the average new mom. I have gone up a bra size but that still only moves me from "barely there" to "there". The only things that seem to have grown significantly are my nipples/areolas. The things are the size of tea cups for heaven's sake - they're disproportionately bigger than the rest. I look like I have two over-endowed shuttlecocks on my chest. Sigh... Well, I guess it's better that two pimples on a duck's behind.
That's it from pregnancy land right now. TTYL.
On Monday I had to go get some blood taken, which we all know I love so much. I do not have good veins either, which just adds to the joy. You can't get a vein on my left arm for love nor money and the good vein in my right arm is "hidden". This I have to tell every new technician I enounter - this and the "you better find me a bed or I'll faint." Yes, I'm not an easy customer.
Unfortunately my one good vein is a "roller" and this time, just as she got in, it rolled away from her. Fortunately, I wasn't looking (too busy squeezing my eyes shut and trying to remember to breath) and so did not know. Double fortuitously, I had a pro. "Can you take a deep breath in and then a slow exhale?" she said with so much calm that I had no idea there was an issue. On the exhale I felt a little sting and prickle and only then did she tell me that she had to withdraw the needle a tad and go hunting for the offending vein. Dang, I'm glad she didn't give me a blow-by-blow.
The result of this quick and relatively painless issue was that I now look like either a drug addict or a lab rat - take your pick. The inside of my right arm is bruised around the vein and, just by coincidence, I have some scratches from my dog in the same area. I told Hubby that if he wasn't nice to me, I would report him for spousal abuse. Of course, nobody would believe HE could beat up ME, but that's another issue...
Still on the subject of veins, my chest and boobs look like a road map for inner London. I got out of the shower this morning and almost recoiled in horror. Where did these things come from? Of course, it's not news to me that pregnant women get blue veins appear around their chest area, but it was news to me that they would suddenly appear overnight.
Unfortunately, I have not been blessed with overflowing cleavage as yet and am doubtful that I will reach the buxom heights of the average new mom. I have gone up a bra size but that still only moves me from "barely there" to "there". The only things that seem to have grown significantly are my nipples/areolas. The things are the size of tea cups for heaven's sake - they're disproportionately bigger than the rest. I look like I have two over-endowed shuttlecocks on my chest. Sigh... Well, I guess it's better that two pimples on a duck's behind.
That's it from pregnancy land right now. TTYL.
Friday, October 24, 2008
Month 5: No more tail
So, I'm in month 5. I like to say this vs. "I'm 4 months pregnant" because it seems a little more bearable. It feels like I've been at this for 5 months, that's for sure.
The status of "the bump" is that it is now, officially, a bump. (Think I've said that before but that was wishful thinking. Now, of course, wishing that it would pop back in.) While carefully concealed underneath flowy tops when leaving the house, bump is officially 'out and about' when bumming around the house. In fact, my lower abdomen feels like someone is sitting on it. As a smart-ass friend pointed out yesterday, someone IS. Well, now it feels like it. When our dogs now decide to plonk themselves on my lap at night, I have to create a protective ring around my abdomen. The dogs are not happy, giving me huffs, puffs, and sad-eyes but I keep telling them that this is just the beginning of their relegation to secondary (maybe even thirdary) status in our household.
It also feels like something is sitting on a bunch of other things, including the famous pudendal nerve of my hip-surgery fame. I'll save you a description of the symptoms but, suffice to say, it's quite disconcerting.
Despite baby clearly putting in an appearance through my clothes, I can't feel him/her moving yet. I keep thinking that each bubble of gas is baby doing yoga but so far it has, in fact, been gas. Delightful.
I'm also heartened to see that baby's eyes and ears are closer to being a 'human' place on the little 3D thingumy to the right there. Plus, thank goodness, the tail appears to have disappeared. Our little salamandar now looks suspiciously like a human baby. Are we sure it's mine and Hubby's?
This weekend - tomorrow night - Hubby and I are off to a Halloween costume party. Our costumes of choice are: naughty (pregnant) nun and the dastardly priest who knocked her up. Of course I will post pictures.
The status of "the bump" is that it is now, officially, a bump. (Think I've said that before but that was wishful thinking. Now, of course, wishing that it would pop back in.) While carefully concealed underneath flowy tops when leaving the house, bump is officially 'out and about' when bumming around the house. In fact, my lower abdomen feels like someone is sitting on it. As a smart-ass friend pointed out yesterday, someone IS. Well, now it feels like it. When our dogs now decide to plonk themselves on my lap at night, I have to create a protective ring around my abdomen. The dogs are not happy, giving me huffs, puffs, and sad-eyes but I keep telling them that this is just the beginning of their relegation to secondary (maybe even thirdary) status in our household.
It also feels like something is sitting on a bunch of other things, including the famous pudendal nerve of my hip-surgery fame. I'll save you a description of the symptoms but, suffice to say, it's quite disconcerting.
Despite baby clearly putting in an appearance through my clothes, I can't feel him/her moving yet. I keep thinking that each bubble of gas is baby doing yoga but so far it has, in fact, been gas. Delightful.
I'm also heartened to see that baby's eyes and ears are closer to being a 'human' place on the little 3D thingumy to the right there. Plus, thank goodness, the tail appears to have disappeared. Our little salamandar now looks suspiciously like a human baby. Are we sure it's mine and Hubby's?
This weekend - tomorrow night - Hubby and I are off to a Halloween costume party. Our costumes of choice are: naughty (pregnant) nun and the dastardly priest who knocked her up. Of course I will post pictures.
Wednesday, October 22, 2008
Why I intend to be an incredibly British parent...
Thanks Sis-in-Law for forwarding this article from The Times.
We were at a house-warming party for one of Hubby's clients several weeks ago. His wife is Swedish and they had a similarly skewed interpretation of the typical American parenting style. Hubby and I immediately connected with what they had to say and this article, while not articulating all of what we feel about what kinds of parents we want to be, certainly says some of it.
Incidentally, the kids of this couple (Hubby's clients) are two of the most eloquent, well-mannered, well-adjusted, happy children we have ever met.
Enjoy...
EDITED TO ADD: You should really check out the actual article on the Times website. This column roused a lot of anti-Brit/anti-American sentiment, much of which I could relate to on both sides but also some other fun comments that seem a little left-field. I especially liked:
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------
How American motherhood ruined my life
We've been set impossibly high standards when it comes to raising children. What's wrong with benign British neglect?
Janice Turner - The Times - October 18, 2008
On Monday I waved off my ten-year-old as he left for his school journey. Except “waved off” is insufficient. “Waved off” is a kiss and ta-ta. This was more appropriate to elite forces embarking on a tour of Fallujah than Year 6 spending five days studying coastal erosion in Kent.
We parents loitered for almost an hour while our offspring were briefed and toileted, then formed a phalanx of honour by the coach. As the kids boarded, we actually cheered. “We're like celebrities!” cried my beaming son. Yes, well... A few of us were muttering and looking at watches. But until the little darlings were out of sight, no one dared leave.
It reminded me how, in the decade since I became a mother, parental obligation has mushroomed. These days raising children is like using the supermarket self-checkout, where every few minutes an electronic voice screams “approval needed!” and a woman must scuttle over and placate the machine. No longer is it enough to attend a rugby match, but Sunday training too; we must “watch” yawnsome swimming lessons and sit beside a children while they do their homework - just in case they look up from the scrum/water/Latin primer and approval is needed.
I need someone to blame for raising the bar, and I'm going to choose American parents. In fact, as she's probably selling up her cockney boozer and packing up her patronising children's books with their self-serving homilies neither to bully the beautiful (English Roses), nor gossip about the rich (Mr Peabody's Apples) I might pin it on Madonna, apparently too busy with her Sticky & Sweet tour to comply with her British husband's request for “an ordinary family life”.
When my first son was a toddler I'd schlep over to fancy West London playgrounds just to spy on American parents. While we Brits slumped, hung-over, on benches with coffee and Sunday papers, US mothers were getting down and dirty in the sandpit. “Good job!” they cried at each misshapen mud pie. If two tots disputed ownership of a bucket these moms piled in like UN peacekeeping detail. Oh stop “interacting”, I'd long to cry, and get an adult life.
Since then we've all sucked up the American way of parenting. It is no coincidence that Madonna and Gwyneth Paltrow began breeding in London around this time, transfixing us with their glamorous maternity wardrobes, fast-returning figures and macrobiotic packed lunches. Two other American mothers in Britain, shocked at our hand-me-down cots and their inabilty to buy £700 painted summerhouses and wellies patterned with bumble bees, set up the Great Little Trading Company, heralding the onslaught of the marketplace into the British nursery.
What is so vital about America, what makes it so thrilling as a nation, is the deep-rooted belief that everything can be improved, transformed and - with enough ingenuity and effort - perfected. Having the American A-list in our midst - and the disposable income of an economic boom - turned British women from a nation of stubbly legged home-permers and gym-avoiders into waxed, manicured, extreme-yoga devotees.
But apply the principles of self-improvement to parenting and insanity beckons. In 2004 the American writer Judith Warner published Perfect Madness, about middle-class mothers in Washington, who, feeling duty-bound to leave their careers, had funnelled every atom of creativity, ambition and status anxiety into raising children. I read it with snorts of derision: women who micromanaged playdates so that their kids made the “right” friends, scheduled in a dozen improving after-school activities, bought Mandarin Chinese flashcards for their babies, campaigned passionately to have chocolate milk banned from the school canteen. This supercharged motherhood seemed so pushy and anxious - so focused on honing a successful end product, a market leader of which they could feel proud.
With the influx of American bankers to London, we've been able to view this first-hand. Of all the nationalities in London, none provokes such domestic irritation. “They have no compunction in taking over a neighbourhood committee or the PTA,” a West London friend says. “They have absolute conviction their way of doing things is right.”
As we sat in her newly opened bookshop, an American woman walked in. “I've come to say welcome to the neighbourhood,” she declared. My friend thanked her and, after she'd left, remarked: “How dare she! I've lived in this area all my life. Why are Americans so proprietorial?”
Four years after Perfect Madness, this American making-a-meal-of- motherhood ideology has taken hold. Gone are benign neglect, cheery half-arsedness, “very nice, dear” vagueness and rumpled make-do.
London children ricochet between Kumon maths, private tutors and Suzuki violin. Every decision - Which school? Should we innoculate? Must I give up work? - is imbued with disproportionate and anxiety. Food fusspottery has taken hold. Parents arrive at children's parties with little pots of organic snacks, fret over the trans-fat content of a Penguin biscuit. (Yet these days icing on cupcakes must - US-style - be taller than the bun.) Visiting children can't eat what I've cooked because they're “'lergic”. Maybe we've bred a generation of lactose-intolerant ninnies or maybe we've fallen for an American tendency to hyper- medicalise the slightest ailment.
What are we worried about? Our children are the healthiest and safest generation yet born. They would be happier still if we stopped our crazy over-thinking, responded less eagerly to “approval needed”. Meanwhile, I must ready my homecoming banquet, put out the bunting and red carpet. The coach is pulling up.
We were at a house-warming party for one of Hubby's clients several weeks ago. His wife is Swedish and they had a similarly skewed interpretation of the typical American parenting style. Hubby and I immediately connected with what they had to say and this article, while not articulating all of what we feel about what kinds of parents we want to be, certainly says some of it.
Incidentally, the kids of this couple (Hubby's clients) are two of the most eloquent, well-mannered, well-adjusted, happy children we have ever met.
Enjoy...
EDITED TO ADD: You should really check out the actual article on the Times website. This column roused a lot of anti-Brit/anti-American sentiment, much of which I could relate to on both sides but also some other fun comments that seem a little left-field. I especially liked:
Actually the NHS in my area is extremely good and I have had several procedures
on my back with very little waiting time. It is very easy for Americans to laugh
at our healthcare but at least we don't have to pay $5000 for an ambulance as my daughter studying in Texas found out recently, disgraceful
- Lynda Ryland, Reading, BerkshireLoved Sarah's comment about how boring childen are. Quite agree. They kill adult conversation and frankly I believe it should be nannies, boarding school and when, and only when, they can take part in adult life will I have much to do with them!
- Gillian, London, UKAs a teacher of many years, I can confirm that children are mostly very tedious and best ignored.
- Sarah , Dartmouth, Canada
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------
How American motherhood ruined my life
We've been set impossibly high standards when it comes to raising children. What's wrong with benign British neglect?
Janice Turner - The Times - October 18, 2008
On Monday I waved off my ten-year-old as he left for his school journey. Except “waved off” is insufficient. “Waved off” is a kiss and ta-ta. This was more appropriate to elite forces embarking on a tour of Fallujah than Year 6 spending five days studying coastal erosion in Kent.
We parents loitered for almost an hour while our offspring were briefed and toileted, then formed a phalanx of honour by the coach. As the kids boarded, we actually cheered. “We're like celebrities!” cried my beaming son. Yes, well... A few of us were muttering and looking at watches. But until the little darlings were out of sight, no one dared leave.
It reminded me how, in the decade since I became a mother, parental obligation has mushroomed. These days raising children is like using the supermarket self-checkout, where every few minutes an electronic voice screams “approval needed!” and a woman must scuttle over and placate the machine. No longer is it enough to attend a rugby match, but Sunday training too; we must “watch” yawnsome swimming lessons and sit beside a children while they do their homework - just in case they look up from the scrum/water/Latin primer and approval is needed.
I need someone to blame for raising the bar, and I'm going to choose American parents. In fact, as she's probably selling up her cockney boozer and packing up her patronising children's books with their self-serving homilies neither to bully the beautiful (English Roses), nor gossip about the rich (Mr Peabody's Apples) I might pin it on Madonna, apparently too busy with her Sticky & Sweet tour to comply with her British husband's request for “an ordinary family life”.
When my first son was a toddler I'd schlep over to fancy West London playgrounds just to spy on American parents. While we Brits slumped, hung-over, on benches with coffee and Sunday papers, US mothers were getting down and dirty in the sandpit. “Good job!” they cried at each misshapen mud pie. If two tots disputed ownership of a bucket these moms piled in like UN peacekeeping detail. Oh stop “interacting”, I'd long to cry, and get an adult life.
Since then we've all sucked up the American way of parenting. It is no coincidence that Madonna and Gwyneth Paltrow began breeding in London around this time, transfixing us with their glamorous maternity wardrobes, fast-returning figures and macrobiotic packed lunches. Two other American mothers in Britain, shocked at our hand-me-down cots and their inabilty to buy £700 painted summerhouses and wellies patterned with bumble bees, set up the Great Little Trading Company, heralding the onslaught of the marketplace into the British nursery.
What is so vital about America, what makes it so thrilling as a nation, is the deep-rooted belief that everything can be improved, transformed and - with enough ingenuity and effort - perfected. Having the American A-list in our midst - and the disposable income of an economic boom - turned British women from a nation of stubbly legged home-permers and gym-avoiders into waxed, manicured, extreme-yoga devotees.
But apply the principles of self-improvement to parenting and insanity beckons. In 2004 the American writer Judith Warner published Perfect Madness, about middle-class mothers in Washington, who, feeling duty-bound to leave their careers, had funnelled every atom of creativity, ambition and status anxiety into raising children. I read it with snorts of derision: women who micromanaged playdates so that their kids made the “right” friends, scheduled in a dozen improving after-school activities, bought Mandarin Chinese flashcards for their babies, campaigned passionately to have chocolate milk banned from the school canteen. This supercharged motherhood seemed so pushy and anxious - so focused on honing a successful end product, a market leader of which they could feel proud.
With the influx of American bankers to London, we've been able to view this first-hand. Of all the nationalities in London, none provokes such domestic irritation. “They have no compunction in taking over a neighbourhood committee or the PTA,” a West London friend says. “They have absolute conviction their way of doing things is right.”
As we sat in her newly opened bookshop, an American woman walked in. “I've come to say welcome to the neighbourhood,” she declared. My friend thanked her and, after she'd left, remarked: “How dare she! I've lived in this area all my life. Why are Americans so proprietorial?”
Four years after Perfect Madness, this American making-a-meal-of- motherhood ideology has taken hold. Gone are benign neglect, cheery half-arsedness, “very nice, dear” vagueness and rumpled make-do.
London children ricochet between Kumon maths, private tutors and Suzuki violin. Every decision - Which school? Should we innoculate? Must I give up work? - is imbued with disproportionate and anxiety. Food fusspottery has taken hold. Parents arrive at children's parties with little pots of organic snacks, fret over the trans-fat content of a Penguin biscuit. (Yet these days icing on cupcakes must - US-style - be taller than the bun.) Visiting children can't eat what I've cooked because they're “'lergic”. Maybe we've bred a generation of lactose-intolerant ninnies or maybe we've fallen for an American tendency to hyper- medicalise the slightest ailment.
What are we worried about? Our children are the healthiest and safest generation yet born. They would be happier still if we stopped our crazy over-thinking, responded less eagerly to “approval needed”. Meanwhile, I must ready my homecoming banquet, put out the bunting and red carpet. The coach is pulling up.
Friday, October 17, 2008
Gender heart rate test
To conduct the this old wives tale you simply take your baby's heartrate in beats per minute (bpm) using a doppler or fetoscope and look at the chart:
Over 140 = girl
Under 140 = boy
Ummm... GREAT. This tells me nothing. Our test yesterday came out at 140 bpm.
BUT for my sister-in-law, her doppler registered 155. Just as I thought... another niece for TV and Hubby!
Over 140 = girl
Under 140 = boy
Ummm... GREAT. This tells me nothing. Our test yesterday came out at 140 bpm.
BUT for my sister-in-law, her doppler registered 155. Just as I thought... another niece for TV and Hubby!
Thursday, October 16, 2008
A-OK
Week 15 check-up today and all is well.
We heard the baby's heart rate for the first time today - a fast but steady 140 bpm - and I had a quick moment of "whoooaaaa, what the heck is that doing in there!"
My doctor says that I have a good chance of feeling the baby move in the next few weeks, which I guess is the next major milestone. I keep thinking that the "next major milestone" will make this whole experience seem a bit more real to me but so far it hasn't happened. Didn't happen with the positive test, didn't happen with the sickness, didn't happen with the ultrasound, hasn't happened with the growing girth yet, and now didn't happen with the heartbeat. I guess I'm waiting for that moment when I "feel" pregnant, like a light going on in dark room. But in reality it's probably more like a dimmer switch, getting brighter so slowly you barely notice it.
No ultrasound or pics today. As I'm a "normal 1st pregnancy" with no risks, there's no medical reason to keep peeking into my womb on a month-by-month basis. We were a bit disappointed because we would have liked to have had an updated head-shot but at the same time realize that the doctor is there to ensure the health of the baby not to be our personal photographer. (Damn it!) My next ultrasound is the first "big one" at the hospital lab, at around 20 weeks - so 5-ish weeks from now. Baby will be quite a bit bigger by then, so that will be exciting.
In between now and then we have our genetic screening for possible birth defects and one more doctor's appointment. The appointments are stacking up!
We also talked some more today with the doctor about my low pelvis. If you remember my first post-doctor post, upon examination the doctor informed me that I have a low pelvis which, practically speaking, means that I may have trouble vaginally delivering all but the smallest baby. That's been on my mind since that appointment because my mum had a really tough birth with me and told her only afterward that her pelvis really wasn't large enough for vaginal birth and she probably should have had a C-Section. The path we and the doctor have agreed to follow in our case is to keep a close eye on the baby's size as we go through the pregnancy and if it looks like the baby is going to be large-ish (I'm guessing over 7lbs but she didn't quanify), we'll schedule a c-section. If the baby looks to be small, we'll give the vaginal birth a good ole college try but at the first sign of any difficulty, will pull the plug early. The good news is that she agrees that, knowing this information up-front, we won't put me through a long labor only to have me whipped out at the last moment for the slice.
So, that's all the news for now. Sorry no pics but it's good news that we don't need them for medical reasons, so we're happy.
We heard the baby's heart rate for the first time today - a fast but steady 140 bpm - and I had a quick moment of "whoooaaaa, what the heck is that doing in there!"
My doctor says that I have a good chance of feeling the baby move in the next few weeks, which I guess is the next major milestone. I keep thinking that the "next major milestone" will make this whole experience seem a bit more real to me but so far it hasn't happened. Didn't happen with the positive test, didn't happen with the sickness, didn't happen with the ultrasound, hasn't happened with the growing girth yet, and now didn't happen with the heartbeat. I guess I'm waiting for that moment when I "feel" pregnant, like a light going on in dark room. But in reality it's probably more like a dimmer switch, getting brighter so slowly you barely notice it.
No ultrasound or pics today. As I'm a "normal 1st pregnancy" with no risks, there's no medical reason to keep peeking into my womb on a month-by-month basis. We were a bit disappointed because we would have liked to have had an updated head-shot but at the same time realize that the doctor is there to ensure the health of the baby not to be our personal photographer. (Damn it!) My next ultrasound is the first "big one" at the hospital lab, at around 20 weeks - so 5-ish weeks from now. Baby will be quite a bit bigger by then, so that will be exciting.
In between now and then we have our genetic screening for possible birth defects and one more doctor's appointment. The appointments are stacking up!
We also talked some more today with the doctor about my low pelvis. If you remember my first post-doctor post, upon examination the doctor informed me that I have a low pelvis which, practically speaking, means that I may have trouble vaginally delivering all but the smallest baby. That's been on my mind since that appointment because my mum had a really tough birth with me and told her only afterward that her pelvis really wasn't large enough for vaginal birth and she probably should have had a C-Section. The path we and the doctor have agreed to follow in our case is to keep a close eye on the baby's size as we go through the pregnancy and if it looks like the baby is going to be large-ish (I'm guessing over 7lbs but she didn't quanify), we'll schedule a c-section. If the baby looks to be small, we'll give the vaginal birth a good ole college try but at the first sign of any difficulty, will pull the plug early. The good news is that she agrees that, knowing this information up-front, we won't put me through a long labor only to have me whipped out at the last moment for the slice.
So, that's all the news for now. Sorry no pics but it's good news that we don't need them for medical reasons, so we're happy.
Wednesday, October 15, 2008
Achooo!
This past week of blissfully cooler weather has, however, brought out some allergies. Sneezing fits, stuffy nose, runny eyes, headaches and now all-over body itching. Last night I felt like I was coming out the other side of a severe sunburn - you know where the new skin is growing and you're getting random itchy spots all over? Except, of course, I don't have the tan to show for it. I had to grab a long-handled brush last night and use it to sporadically 'hit' the offending areas. Yes, I was frantically brushing my body while watching House. Very attractive.
I never had any of this before baby came along but baby likes to surprise us with new things all the time - and he/she is not even born yet!
Luckily most allergy meds seem to be on my green-light list from my ObGyn. Unfortunately, they all make me comatose, so I'm trying not to take any of them. Hopefully, this too shall pass.
On another note, I notice that there is one more vote in the "It's a Boy" camp. Thanks whoever you are - Hubby and I were feeling as though we were completely off-base there.
Got to go itch my shin... later...
I never had any of this before baby came along but baby likes to surprise us with new things all the time - and he/she is not even born yet!
Luckily most allergy meds seem to be on my green-light list from my ObGyn. Unfortunately, they all make me comatose, so I'm trying not to take any of them. Hopefully, this too shall pass.
On another note, I notice that there is one more vote in the "It's a Boy" camp. Thanks whoever you are - Hubby and I were feeling as though we were completely off-base there.
Got to go itch my shin... later...
Friday, October 10, 2008
14 weeks
Officially, it's no longer under debate or conjecture - I am in my 2nd trimester. I am now 14 weeks pregnant, in my 15th week. Hallelujah brother!
We already know that I have started to feel better, although our house hasn't yet started to see the positive effects. Laundry is still behind, floors still need vacuuming and mopping, crap still everywhere... I warned Hubby that this, my first weekend of renewed vigor, would result in a fall cleaning, so he better move it or lose it. Yes, I am on the war path this weekend. My house will sparkle and smell all citrusy by the time Sunday closes out. I can't wait.
Meanwhile, baby has obviously been busier than Mommy...
Week 14: Your Baby
Think of it this way: You're a third of the way through and baby's a third of the way cooked. Now that the "big stuff" (like skeletal and organ development) is taken care of, your baby starts a period of rapid brain growth, fat buildup and detail work.
Highlights this week include:Your baby now has fingerprints! Book 'em, Danno! Believe it or not, he actually created them himself while swimming around in the amniotic fluid. As he moved his hands, the skin on the tips of his fingers formed unique ridges and folds. That's why no one on earth has the same fingerprints, not even identical twins! Cool, right? Baby's arms are now in proportion to his tiny body, but his legs are still on the short size in comparison.
Meconium, that tar-like, sticky first baby poop, is now loading up your baby's intestines, which means you might want to set aside a bottle of olive oil, one of the few things that will get the gooey poop off of baby's bottom. Your baby continues to gain new and impressive skills such as practicing and controlling voluntary muscle movements (this will help him fling food across the room later in life). Your tiny dancer's movements are no longer the jerky, uncontrollable twitches of yore—he now moves with graceful control. Your baby is now weighs about an ounce and is the length of a flip phone, or roughly 3.5 inches—he's tripled in size from a mere three weeks ago!
Luckily, you haven't done the same.
(Um... they clearly haven't seen me!)
---------------
BOY OR GIRL?
In other news, I notice that there seems to be a general concensus on our poll that we will be having a girl. Strange that the only two votes for a boy are Hubby and I. I'm interested to know what makes you all so certain. Care to share, voters?
MY personal hypothesis is based upon anecdotal evidence from pregnancies of my friends and family in the past few years. Almost without exception, those having a boy felt nausea all day that was relieved by eating little and often - like me. Those having a girl threw everything they ate up. Fingers crossed I don't jinx myself but I haven't seen the bottom of the toilet bowl at close quarters yet.
We already know that I have started to feel better, although our house hasn't yet started to see the positive effects. Laundry is still behind, floors still need vacuuming and mopping, crap still everywhere... I warned Hubby that this, my first weekend of renewed vigor, would result in a fall cleaning, so he better move it or lose it. Yes, I am on the war path this weekend. My house will sparkle and smell all citrusy by the time Sunday closes out. I can't wait.
Meanwhile, baby has obviously been busier than Mommy...
Week 14: Your Baby
Think of it this way: You're a third of the way through and baby's a third of the way cooked. Now that the "big stuff" (like skeletal and organ development) is taken care of, your baby starts a period of rapid brain growth, fat buildup and detail work.
Highlights this week include:Your baby now has fingerprints! Book 'em, Danno! Believe it or not, he actually created them himself while swimming around in the amniotic fluid. As he moved his hands, the skin on the tips of his fingers formed unique ridges and folds. That's why no one on earth has the same fingerprints, not even identical twins! Cool, right? Baby's arms are now in proportion to his tiny body, but his legs are still on the short size in comparison.
Meconium, that tar-like, sticky first baby poop, is now loading up your baby's intestines, which means you might want to set aside a bottle of olive oil, one of the few things that will get the gooey poop off of baby's bottom. Your baby continues to gain new and impressive skills such as practicing and controlling voluntary muscle movements (this will help him fling food across the room later in life). Your tiny dancer's movements are no longer the jerky, uncontrollable twitches of yore—he now moves with graceful control. Your baby is now weighs about an ounce and is the length of a flip phone, or roughly 3.5 inches—he's tripled in size from a mere three weeks ago!
Luckily, you haven't done the same.
(Um... they clearly haven't seen me!)
---------------
BOY OR GIRL?
In other news, I notice that there seems to be a general concensus on our poll that we will be having a girl. Strange that the only two votes for a boy are Hubby and I. I'm interested to know what makes you all so certain. Care to share, voters?
MY personal hypothesis is based upon anecdotal evidence from pregnancies of my friends and family in the past few years. Almost without exception, those having a boy felt nausea all day that was relieved by eating little and often - like me. Those having a girl threw everything they ate up. Fingers crossed I don't jinx myself but I haven't seen the bottom of the toilet bowl at close quarters yet.
Wednesday, October 8, 2008
My saviour
It's called the Preggle and it's a candy-cane shaped pillow especially designed for pregnant women. Since the arrival of my Preggle last Thursday, I have been sleeping as soundly as a bear in hibernation. Back feels great, belly feels great, neck feels great. I no longer wake up in the middle of the night, flat on my back and feeling as though someone is standing on my stomach. The pillow allows me to cozy-up on my side and, if I slip onto my back in the night, it stops me from going all the way back and cushions me in a still slightly-sideways position.
I love my Preggle.
Friday, October 3, 2008
Oh wow! Look! It looks like a human baby!
13 weeks preggo today and my little rotating 3D baby has finally spun itself into the image of a human baby! I logged in this afternoon and was relieved to see that it no longer looked like something from Alien Resurrection. Woot Woot!
In other news, my pregnant self is also relieved to see 75 degrees and rain in the forecast today. I had to restrain myself form running into the street in my undies and doing a "welcome rain" dance! I feel like a whole new person already. Bring on the Fall!
In other news, my pregnant self is also relieved to see 75 degrees and rain in the forecast today. I had to restrain myself form running into the street in my undies and doing a "welcome rain" dance! I feel like a whole new person already. Bring on the Fall!
Thursday, October 2, 2008
POP goes the...
... belly!
I don't think I can reasonably blame over-eating for my rather protruding gut at this point. I believe I can finally say I have "popped". Ok, so I'm sure it's helped along quite significantly by those extra few fries I've been eating, or the countless cokes I've been downing, (seriously, these are just the indugences, I still eat pretty good) but I've definitely noticed that said girth is getting progressively less squishy.
When I feel that I do officially "look" pregnant, perhaps a week or two from now, I shall get Hubby to take my first belly pic and shall proudly post it here.
I don't think I can reasonably blame over-eating for my rather protruding gut at this point. I believe I can finally say I have "popped". Ok, so I'm sure it's helped along quite significantly by those extra few fries I've been eating, or the countless cokes I've been downing, (seriously, these are just the indugences, I still eat pretty good) but I've definitely noticed that said girth is getting progressively less squishy.
When I feel that I do officially "look" pregnant, perhaps a week or two from now, I shall get Hubby to take my first belly pic and shall proudly post it here.
Tuesday, September 30, 2008
I can feel it!
In a past, non-pregnancy life, that blog post title may have been followed by something about "the rhythm" or "the benefits of yoga" or something. These days, life is about baby, so what I'm "feeling" is the baby.
Nooooooooo, I don't think I can feel it kicking or anything - I know that's a way off yet. But when I CAN feel now, is where baby is. Or, in less subtle language, my growing uterus can now officially be discerned just below my belly button. When I lay on my back (which is already becoming a no-no because of weird sensations of "pressure") I can identify a firmer, unmoveable mass in my abdomen (unlike the moveable feast of fat above). It's more pronounced on the left side than my right (not sure why) and is also identifyable because pressure on it feels different from pressure elsewhere.
Aparently, baby is at such a stage now where it can actually feel pressure. So, this morning's investigative prodding session probably sent it ping-ponging around it's little sac.
Nooooooooo, I don't think I can feel it kicking or anything - I know that's a way off yet. But when I CAN feel now, is where baby is. Or, in less subtle language, my growing uterus can now officially be discerned just below my belly button. When I lay on my back (which is already becoming a no-no because of weird sensations of "pressure") I can identify a firmer, unmoveable mass in my abdomen (unlike the moveable feast of fat above). It's more pronounced on the left side than my right (not sure why) and is also identifyable because pressure on it feels different from pressure elsewhere.
Aparently, baby is at such a stage now where it can actually feel pressure. So, this morning's investigative prodding session probably sent it ping-ponging around it's little sac.
Monday, September 29, 2008
40 divided by 3 is 13.333333333333333, not 12.
Hey, I never claimed to be any good at math so this may seem obvious to you, it was news to me....
Here was I celebrating my initiation into the wonderful world of 2nd trimester-hood and then my sister-in-law (SIL) pops my balloon this past weekend. SIL says that 2nd trimester does not begin until week 14 because it's 12 weeks from conception not your 12th week (which is based upon the first day of your last period) and/or 40 divided by 3 (which, again, is 13.3 recurring).
God, pregnancy counting is complex. Someone seriously needs to simply this for us non math brains.
Although this would explain why I have not begun to feel miraculously better, I was extremely disheartened. As Hubby said, it's like being asked to hold your breath for 30 seconds then, after 28 seconds, told you need to hang on for another 10.
So, as one does these days when one is seeking reliable, fact-based, information, I set about Googling 2nd trimester dates. According to http://www.baby2see.org/, which has a handy trimester calculator, my 2nd trimester did in fact begin on September 24th based upon DEVELOPMENT. Based upon GESTATION, my 2nd trimester wouldn't begin until October 4th, which is this coming Saturday. Yet another date is based upon CONCEPTION, where 2nd trimester would begin on October 13th. (That's it, I'm going to bed... wake me up in mid October.)
For those of you, like me, that are thoroughly confused, here are the definitions of the different types of stages of judging pregnancy timing (or something -- I don't know! Crap, I sound like Sarah Palin trying to describe my foreign policy experience):
Development:This uses actual developmental stages to divide up a pregnancy. From LMP to 12 weeks the embryo develops all the major organs and becomes a fetus. From 12 weeks to 27 weeks the fetus continues developing and reaches viability. From 27 weeks on the fetus finishes development and prepares for delivery. Here the second trimester begins at 12w 0d and the third at 27w 0d.
Gestation:With this method you take the 40 weeks of gestation and divide by three. Here the second trimester begins at 13w 3d and the third at 26w 6d.
Conception:This method is where you take the 38 weeks of post conception development, divide by three, and add two weeks. Here the second trimester begins at 14w 5d and the third at 27w 3d.
According to said same site, it's really a practitioner preference as to which type of date you should use to judge your 2nd trimester. I quote: "Your health care provider might prefer to use the Development method, while another Midwife or Doctor may use the Gestation method. I am sure they do that just to confuse pregnant women."
NO, REALLY, IT'S CRYSTAL CLEAR TO ME.
The site then goes on to say that "trimesters", while used ceaselessly by us Moms-to-be as a measure of how far along we are (probably because 9+ months sounds like an eternity) are actually a pretty worthless yard-stick because of the different methods of judging "day one". Plus the word "trimester", strictly speaking, is supposed to mean 3 months and 3 times 3 months is 9 months or about 39 weeks - leaving you about 1 week short. Pregnancies should, therefore, be judged by weeks.
Great, we went from 3 stages, to 9 (ish) months, to 40 weeks. I feel better already. Not.
More Googling only resulted in further confusion. Just look at the wild variety of definitions for a "trimester" http://www.google.com/search?hl=en&rls=com.microsoft:en-us:IE-SearchBox&rlz=1I7DMUS&defl=en&q=define:Trimester&sa=X&oi=glossary_definition&ct=title - anything from 12 to 16 weeks, depending on the source and unit being measured.
The good news is that most reports of improved health occur between weeks 12 and 16, so 2nd trimester or not, I'm now in a zone where I can at least live in hope of a better tomorrow.
IN OTHER NEWS...
Step 1 of nursery beautification began yeterday. Dad and Hubby rolled up their sleeves and re-painted the nursery-to-be. Since we don't plan to find out the sex of the baby until birth, we've gone with neutral tones - a soothing, spa-like, grey-ish green on the bottom, and a greenish, yellowish, off-white (called Baked Brie) on top. In the middle, dividing the two, will be a white chair rail (an opportunity for Hubby to test his carpentry skills). When it's complete, I'll post a pic.
So, that's it from maybe-2nd-trimester-land for now.
Here was I celebrating my initiation into the wonderful world of 2nd trimester-hood and then my sister-in-law (SIL) pops my balloon this past weekend. SIL says that 2nd trimester does not begin until week 14 because it's 12 weeks from conception not your 12th week (which is based upon the first day of your last period) and/or 40 divided by 3 (which, again, is 13.3 recurring).
God, pregnancy counting is complex. Someone seriously needs to simply this for us non math brains.
Although this would explain why I have not begun to feel miraculously better, I was extremely disheartened. As Hubby said, it's like being asked to hold your breath for 30 seconds then, after 28 seconds, told you need to hang on for another 10.
So, as one does these days when one is seeking reliable, fact-based, information, I set about Googling 2nd trimester dates. According to http://www.baby2see.org/, which has a handy trimester calculator, my 2nd trimester did in fact begin on September 24th based upon DEVELOPMENT. Based upon GESTATION, my 2nd trimester wouldn't begin until October 4th, which is this coming Saturday. Yet another date is based upon CONCEPTION, where 2nd trimester would begin on October 13th. (That's it, I'm going to bed... wake me up in mid October.)
For those of you, like me, that are thoroughly confused, here are the definitions of the different types of stages of judging pregnancy timing (or something -- I don't know! Crap, I sound like Sarah Palin trying to describe my foreign policy experience):
Development:This uses actual developmental stages to divide up a pregnancy. From LMP to 12 weeks the embryo develops all the major organs and becomes a fetus. From 12 weeks to 27 weeks the fetus continues developing and reaches viability. From 27 weeks on the fetus finishes development and prepares for delivery. Here the second trimester begins at 12w 0d and the third at 27w 0d.
Gestation:With this method you take the 40 weeks of gestation and divide by three. Here the second trimester begins at 13w 3d and the third at 26w 6d.
Conception:This method is where you take the 38 weeks of post conception development, divide by three, and add two weeks. Here the second trimester begins at 14w 5d and the third at 27w 3d.
According to said same site, it's really a practitioner preference as to which type of date you should use to judge your 2nd trimester. I quote: "Your health care provider might prefer to use the Development method, while another Midwife or Doctor may use the Gestation method. I am sure they do that just to confuse pregnant women."
NO, REALLY, IT'S CRYSTAL CLEAR TO ME.
The site then goes on to say that "trimesters", while used ceaselessly by us Moms-to-be as a measure of how far along we are (probably because 9+ months sounds like an eternity) are actually a pretty worthless yard-stick because of the different methods of judging "day one". Plus the word "trimester", strictly speaking, is supposed to mean 3 months and 3 times 3 months is 9 months or about 39 weeks - leaving you about 1 week short. Pregnancies should, therefore, be judged by weeks.
Great, we went from 3 stages, to 9 (ish) months, to 40 weeks. I feel better already. Not.
More Googling only resulted in further confusion. Just look at the wild variety of definitions for a "trimester" http://www.google.com/search?hl=en&rls=com.microsoft:en-us:IE-SearchBox&rlz=1I7DMUS&defl=en&q=define:Trimester&sa=X&oi=glossary_definition&ct=title - anything from 12 to 16 weeks, depending on the source and unit being measured.
The good news is that most reports of improved health occur between weeks 12 and 16, so 2nd trimester or not, I'm now in a zone where I can at least live in hope of a better tomorrow.
IN OTHER NEWS...
Step 1 of nursery beautification began yeterday. Dad and Hubby rolled up their sleeves and re-painted the nursery-to-be. Since we don't plan to find out the sex of the baby until birth, we've gone with neutral tones - a soothing, spa-like, grey-ish green on the bottom, and a greenish, yellowish, off-white (called Baked Brie) on top. In the middle, dividing the two, will be a white chair rail (an opportunity for Hubby to test his carpentry skills). When it's complete, I'll post a pic.
So, that's it from maybe-2nd-trimester-land for now.
Friday, September 26, 2008
WELCOME TRIMESTER 2!!! Already ready to give us the finger
Today I am officially 12 weeks pregnant and heading into trimester #2. I am so relieved I can barely speak, although apparently I still seem to be able to blog.
Now (so I am told) I can look forward to progressively less nausea and exhaustion, more energy and more discomfort. Umm... woohoo... I think. Actually, I'm looking forward to looking pregnant, so that I can stop feeling fat. I'm so between regular and maternity wear right now that it's maddening. When I can finally, proudly, stick out my pregnant belly, and announce that all of this is actually not my fault, I think I will feel immeasurably better.
In other news...
According to those email newsletter things I get, baby is now the size of a lime. (Which, unfortunately, just makes me think of a margarita.)
Other 'dramatic' developments include...
"Reflexes. Your baby's fingers will soon begin to open and close, his toes will curl, his eye muscles will clench, and his mouth will make sucking movements. In fact, if you prod your abdomen, your baby will squirm in response, although you won't be able to feel it. His intestines, which have grown so fast that they protrude into the umbilical cord, will start to move into his abdominal cavity about now, and his kidneys will begin excreting urine into his bladder."
So, basically, baby can now officially begin it's rebellion with kicking, rude hand gestures, scowling faces, and disgusting bodily emissions.
As for me, the nausea is getting better, I have to admit. The hour after eating is the worst, probably due to a slower digestion. Gas is getting worse, however. I burp like a cross-country trucker all through the day and especially after dinner. Sometimes it's so gutteral and so uncontrollable that it can be quite embarassing, especially if we go out to dinner.
Exhaustion is also easing up, slowly. I still have periods during the day where I feel like I am going to melt into the floor but nothing like the stop-drop-and-nap I had a few weeks ago. I should take some of the credit for this, however, in that I have listened to my body and eliminated my 4:30am gym excursions. (Yes, I do expect profuse praise for this from those of you who know how much I love my early morning workouts.)
I now sleep from 10pm to 6:30-7am and workout at home at the end of the day or during lunch. I have two pre-natal DVD workouts, one is a yoga workout and the other is a light strength training workout with the famous volleyball player, Gabrielle Reice. Once it cools down, I plan to add some walking to my regimen, just to get my blood pumping a bit more. So, I do credit my ability to make it through the day without wilting, to 8-9 hours of good, mostly uninterrupted sleep each night.
I should, at this point, mention Hubby. Before I do, I need to call him out for not posting on this blog. He has authoring rights but has never used them. I have been waiting for him to put in his 2 cents worth in his own words. Since it seems unlikely to happen (nudge, nudge, hint, hint) I shall just talk about him, instead.
Hubby is wonderful. He (as usual) gracefully endures my grumpiness, bitching and whining, which has thus far been the meat and potatoes of this pregnancy from his perspective. Now I think about it, perhaps this is why he does not blog - the only thing he could reasonably talk about is how I moan all the time that I'm nauseous, that I'm tired, that I'm gassy, that I can't have a cocktail, that I can't have a latte, that I don't have a vacation planned, that I want to plan a long weekend, that I need to get out of the house, that I don't have the energy to do any housework, that the housework needs to get done, that we need a maid, that I need to eat now, that I don't want to be pregnant, that I wish we'd adopted, that I'm fat, that I have nothing to wear, that I'm hot, that Sacramento's weather SUCKS, that I'm fed-up with summer, that I want Fall and some rain, and (of course) that it's all his fault.
All of this he endures with a smile on his face. In fact, I think he even finds it strangely endearing and amusing. Fortunately, his amusement isn't like someone laughing at you when you're mad (which just makes you madder), so I kind of find it endearing that he is amused by my whining. We're an odd couple - who can say why two people just work for one another, huh?
Anyway, back to lovin' up on Hubby. He is wonderful. He makes me tea, he does the dishes, he tries to do the laundry (I think we got one load through in 2 weeks after he ran out of undies), he goes to whatever restaurant I want at that moment, he jumps in the car with me to get me out of the house when he'd rather be home, and he calls me to see how I am throughout the day and genuinely sounds sad for me when I say (as usual) "LIKE CRAP!"
So, thank you Hubby - I love you loads. You're going to be a great Dad.
Talking of Dads... Yesterday, my Dad and I were in Home Depot, looking at rugs for our family room and the to-be-nursery. Since we're not planning on finding out the sex of the baby until birth (vote for boy or girl, on my poll on the right) I'm going with neutral, soothing, spa-like colors - grey-ish greens, beiges, browns, creams, and white.
So, I'm in HD looking at this lovely big rug with lots of differently colored, muted, neutral spots on it and my Dad says, "It's not very nursery-like, is it?" To which I respond "Well, what does the baby care? It's not going to be able to appreciate it for a few years either way. I'm going to be the one sitting in there looking at the damn thing while I'm half asleep."
"You're going to be a mother all your own," he mutters. Meaning, of course, that I'm just not going to fit into any of those mothering stereotypes.
Exactly, I thought. Everything is going according to plan...
Now (so I am told) I can look forward to progressively less nausea and exhaustion, more energy and more discomfort. Umm... woohoo... I think. Actually, I'm looking forward to looking pregnant, so that I can stop feeling fat. I'm so between regular and maternity wear right now that it's maddening. When I can finally, proudly, stick out my pregnant belly, and announce that all of this is actually not my fault, I think I will feel immeasurably better.
In other news...
According to those email newsletter things I get, baby is now the size of a lime. (Which, unfortunately, just makes me think of a margarita.)
Other 'dramatic' developments include...
"Reflexes. Your baby's fingers will soon begin to open and close, his toes will curl, his eye muscles will clench, and his mouth will make sucking movements. In fact, if you prod your abdomen, your baby will squirm in response, although you won't be able to feel it. His intestines, which have grown so fast that they protrude into the umbilical cord, will start to move into his abdominal cavity about now, and his kidneys will begin excreting urine into his bladder."
So, basically, baby can now officially begin it's rebellion with kicking, rude hand gestures, scowling faces, and disgusting bodily emissions.
As for me, the nausea is getting better, I have to admit. The hour after eating is the worst, probably due to a slower digestion. Gas is getting worse, however. I burp like a cross-country trucker all through the day and especially after dinner. Sometimes it's so gutteral and so uncontrollable that it can be quite embarassing, especially if we go out to dinner.
Exhaustion is also easing up, slowly. I still have periods during the day where I feel like I am going to melt into the floor but nothing like the stop-drop-and-nap I had a few weeks ago. I should take some of the credit for this, however, in that I have listened to my body and eliminated my 4:30am gym excursions. (Yes, I do expect profuse praise for this from those of you who know how much I love my early morning workouts.)
I now sleep from 10pm to 6:30-7am and workout at home at the end of the day or during lunch. I have two pre-natal DVD workouts, one is a yoga workout and the other is a light strength training workout with the famous volleyball player, Gabrielle Reice. Once it cools down, I plan to add some walking to my regimen, just to get my blood pumping a bit more. So, I do credit my ability to make it through the day without wilting, to 8-9 hours of good, mostly uninterrupted sleep each night.
I should, at this point, mention Hubby. Before I do, I need to call him out for not posting on this blog. He has authoring rights but has never used them. I have been waiting for him to put in his 2 cents worth in his own words. Since it seems unlikely to happen (nudge, nudge, hint, hint) I shall just talk about him, instead.
Hubby is wonderful. He (as usual) gracefully endures my grumpiness, bitching and whining, which has thus far been the meat and potatoes of this pregnancy from his perspective. Now I think about it, perhaps this is why he does not blog - the only thing he could reasonably talk about is how I moan all the time that I'm nauseous, that I'm tired, that I'm gassy, that I can't have a cocktail, that I can't have a latte, that I don't have a vacation planned, that I want to plan a long weekend, that I need to get out of the house, that I don't have the energy to do any housework, that the housework needs to get done, that we need a maid, that I need to eat now, that I don't want to be pregnant, that I wish we'd adopted, that I'm fat, that I have nothing to wear, that I'm hot, that Sacramento's weather SUCKS, that I'm fed-up with summer, that I want Fall and some rain, and (of course) that it's all his fault.
All of this he endures with a smile on his face. In fact, I think he even finds it strangely endearing and amusing. Fortunately, his amusement isn't like someone laughing at you when you're mad (which just makes you madder), so I kind of find it endearing that he is amused by my whining. We're an odd couple - who can say why two people just work for one another, huh?
Anyway, back to lovin' up on Hubby. He is wonderful. He makes me tea, he does the dishes, he tries to do the laundry (I think we got one load through in 2 weeks after he ran out of undies), he goes to whatever restaurant I want at that moment, he jumps in the car with me to get me out of the house when he'd rather be home, and he calls me to see how I am throughout the day and genuinely sounds sad for me when I say (as usual) "LIKE CRAP!"
So, thank you Hubby - I love you loads. You're going to be a great Dad.
Talking of Dads... Yesterday, my Dad and I were in Home Depot, looking at rugs for our family room and the to-be-nursery. Since we're not planning on finding out the sex of the baby until birth (vote for boy or girl, on my poll on the right) I'm going with neutral, soothing, spa-like colors - grey-ish greens, beiges, browns, creams, and white.
So, I'm in HD looking at this lovely big rug with lots of differently colored, muted, neutral spots on it and my Dad says, "It's not very nursery-like, is it?" To which I respond "Well, what does the baby care? It's not going to be able to appreciate it for a few years either way. I'm going to be the one sitting in there looking at the damn thing while I'm half asleep."
"You're going to be a mother all your own," he mutters. Meaning, of course, that I'm just not going to fit into any of those mothering stereotypes.
Exactly, I thought. Everything is going according to plan...
Thursday, September 25, 2008
Just thought I'd mention...
... it's going to be 95 degrees today here in Orangevale.
That's all. Just my daily bitch about the weather.
That's all. Just my daily bitch about the weather.
Wednesday, September 24, 2008
Is it the 2nd trimester yet? Why is it fall with summer weather?
These are the things currently occupying my thoughts on a minute-by-minute basis.
I'm eagerly awaiting the surge of energy and sense of of well-being that I've been promised after week 12 and wishing to GOD that the weather people would stop calling 89 degrees "fall-like weather." 89 DEGREES IS NOT FALL-LIKE WEATHER. It's summer weather. I refuse to accept any argument to the contrary. Until the temps dip below 80, I refuse to hear anything about "fall-like" weather. People in Sacramento have been in this God-forsaken heat for so long their brains have been fried. Since when did you see fall depicted in a movie or on the tv as 89, dry, still degrees? Never. Fall is cool temperatures, orange/brown leaves, a breeze, the odd shower, not shorts and pool parties.
Does anyone know how to do a rain dance?
I'm eagerly awaiting the surge of energy and sense of of well-being that I've been promised after week 12 and wishing to GOD that the weather people would stop calling 89 degrees "fall-like weather." 89 DEGREES IS NOT FALL-LIKE WEATHER. It's summer weather. I refuse to accept any argument to the contrary. Until the temps dip below 80, I refuse to hear anything about "fall-like" weather. People in Sacramento have been in this God-forsaken heat for so long their brains have been fried. Since when did you see fall depicted in a movie or on the tv as 89, dry, still degrees? Never. Fall is cool temperatures, orange/brown leaves, a breeze, the odd shower, not shorts and pool parties.
Does anyone know how to do a rain dance?
Lessons for early parenthood
Courtesy of babycenter.com
The day my son, Mason, was born, my husband did his first-ever diaper change. He was so proud. But when he picked Mason up, our son urinated on him. The little cut-out in the front of the diaper for the belly button stump was too far down, and Mason's little pee-pee was sticking out. My husband was so embarrassed."— Brandi, Arizona
"When my son was 5 days old, I decided to take him to the store. I was really nervous because it was my first time taking him out by myself. After spending about an hour getting ready, we left the house. I locked the front door of my house and put my key chain in my pocket. Minutes later, I buckled my son into his car seat and closed the car door. I went around to the driver's side door, and the door was locked. I went back around to the passenger side, and it was locked too. I sat on the hood of my car crying for about an hour (while my baby slept in his car seat), thinking about what a terrible mother I would be. Then I remembered that the keys were in my pocket! I unlocked the car door and took the baby back into the house. When my husband came home and I told him about it — still crying — he laughed and thought it was cute."— Jennifer, Georgia
"When my son was about 6 weeks old, he began teething (I know — it's early). I wanted to give him some Infants' Tylenol because he had a bit of a fever. I was going on about two hours of sleep over a period of two days, and I couldn't find the dropper that went to his medicine anywhere, so I had the bright idea that I would just cover the top of the bottle with my finger and let it drip out that way. When I tried it, I was horrified to see half the bottle disappear into his mouth! I screamed and frantically tried to scoop some out with my finger, but to no avail. I started bawling my head off and called poison control, telling the guy over the phone that I was a bad mom. He told me not to give him any more for a while, and that I shouldn't worry, because for my son's weight, he would have had to drink three whole bottles to get sick from it! I'm so ashamed about that. I'll never do it again, that's for sure."— Lori, Washington
"I was nervous about driving alone with the baby, so I put her in the front seat on the passenger side so I could comfort her if she started to cry. I passed the seat belt through the car seat (which doubled as a carrier), but I forgot that the seat belt was automatic. When I closed the door, the seatbelt picked up the carrier and left it dangling sideways in the air, with my baby inside. She was okay because she was strapped in the carrier, but still!"— Gloria, New York
"I had only been home from the hospital for a couple of days and was just finishing a shower when my husband screamed for me to come to the family room. I ran in and saw our daughter, Abigail, innocently lying on a towel on the floor. My husband jumped up and ran to the bathroom, and I heard him throwing up like he had a horrible flu. He walked out a few minutes later, went into our bedroom, and came out with a gas mask on. He said he had never seen anything like that — Abby's first poop after the meconium. After that he changed her diaper with his gas mask on."— Melissa, Ohio
The day my son, Mason, was born, my husband did his first-ever diaper change. He was so proud. But when he picked Mason up, our son urinated on him. The little cut-out in the front of the diaper for the belly button stump was too far down, and Mason's little pee-pee was sticking out. My husband was so embarrassed."— Brandi, Arizona
"When my son was 5 days old, I decided to take him to the store. I was really nervous because it was my first time taking him out by myself. After spending about an hour getting ready, we left the house. I locked the front door of my house and put my key chain in my pocket. Minutes later, I buckled my son into his car seat and closed the car door. I went around to the driver's side door, and the door was locked. I went back around to the passenger side, and it was locked too. I sat on the hood of my car crying for about an hour (while my baby slept in his car seat), thinking about what a terrible mother I would be. Then I remembered that the keys were in my pocket! I unlocked the car door and took the baby back into the house. When my husband came home and I told him about it — still crying — he laughed and thought it was cute."— Jennifer, Georgia
"When my son was about 6 weeks old, he began teething (I know — it's early). I wanted to give him some Infants' Tylenol because he had a bit of a fever. I was going on about two hours of sleep over a period of two days, and I couldn't find the dropper that went to his medicine anywhere, so I had the bright idea that I would just cover the top of the bottle with my finger and let it drip out that way. When I tried it, I was horrified to see half the bottle disappear into his mouth! I screamed and frantically tried to scoop some out with my finger, but to no avail. I started bawling my head off and called poison control, telling the guy over the phone that I was a bad mom. He told me not to give him any more for a while, and that I shouldn't worry, because for my son's weight, he would have had to drink three whole bottles to get sick from it! I'm so ashamed about that. I'll never do it again, that's for sure."— Lori, Washington
"I was nervous about driving alone with the baby, so I put her in the front seat on the passenger side so I could comfort her if she started to cry. I passed the seat belt through the car seat (which doubled as a carrier), but I forgot that the seat belt was automatic. When I closed the door, the seatbelt picked up the carrier and left it dangling sideways in the air, with my baby inside. She was okay because she was strapped in the carrier, but still!"— Gloria, New York
"I had only been home from the hospital for a couple of days and was just finishing a shower when my husband screamed for me to come to the family room. I ran in and saw our daughter, Abigail, innocently lying on a towel on the floor. My husband jumped up and ran to the bathroom, and I heard him throwing up like he had a horrible flu. He walked out a few minutes later, went into our bedroom, and came out with a gas mask on. He said he had never seen anything like that — Abby's first poop after the meconium. After that he changed her diaper with his gas mask on."— Melissa, Ohio
Friday, September 19, 2008
It's baby time!
Annonced baby Vixen to a wider group of people yesterday and wouldn't you believe it, I scared-out yet another friend who is due within a month of me!
She's not telling the world yet because she's a few weeks behind me but this is my friend in England who was my chief bridesmaid (maid of honor for you Americans) at my first wedding. (And based upon what I made her wear, it's an event she would rather forget -but that's another issue.) Anyway, she is due May 2nd.
That makes it me, my sister-in-law and now one of my best friends all due within 1 month of each other PLUS my co-worker due in late December. It's going to be a busy 2009!
She's not telling the world yet because she's a few weeks behind me but this is my friend in England who was my chief bridesmaid (maid of honor for you Americans) at my first wedding. (And based upon what I made her wear, it's an event she would rather forget -but that's another issue.) Anyway, she is due May 2nd.
That makes it me, my sister-in-law and now one of my best friends all due within 1 month of each other PLUS my co-worker due in late December. It's going to be a busy 2009!
Thursday, September 18, 2008
Here he/she is!
Approximately 4cms in length, Baby Vixen is now estimated to be due closer to the 10th-13th of April. Above you should be able to see head, arms, tummy, and legs. Baby Vixen also cooperated by moving around a little so we could actually discern all those limbs - looking a little like he/she was trying to box-away the ultrasound wand (which was inside vs. outside because it's still so early on.)Unfortunately, although we could see the heart beating at warp speed, we were unable to hear it with a doppler just yet. So we still have that took forward to at our next check-up 4 weeks from now.
All seems to be going according to plan except for one piece of not-so-great but not entirely unexpected news. Aparently I have a low pelvis, which practically speaking means that it may make it hard for me to deliver all but a small baby vaginally. This, incidentally, is pretty much the same thing that kept my mother in labor for 36 hours with me, being told that she should have had a c-section only afterward. I'm thinking elective c-section. Rather that than an emergency C. But, I guess we'll cross that bridge with the doctor when we get a little closer.
All those hips, you'd think I wouldn't be so afflicted. Typical.
Wednesday, September 17, 2008
Getting in some practice
Last night my two friends Joy, Mala, and I went to visit Linh, who just had her little girl, Katelinh, back in August. It was great to be together again in one place, even for just a little while. Since we left Lyon and started having babies, it's a rare occassion that we get all four of us together at the same time. I miss girl time.
Of course, little Katelinh is thoroughly adorable and quite a sleepy little thing (lucky Linh!). Toward the end of our visit she fell asleep with her hands up by her ears, seeming to say "Alright already! All this girl talk is keeping me up!"
Of course, little Katelinh is thoroughly adorable and quite a sleepy little thing (lucky Linh!). Toward the end of our visit she fell asleep with her hands up by her ears, seeming to say "Alright already! All this girl talk is keeping me up!"
Linh also seemed to think that I had already begun "showing". I'm so touched but the reality is it's fat.
Tuesday, September 16, 2008
NEWSFLASH: BabyCenter.com attempts to increase number of babies up for adoption
Today I received my weekly pregnancy e-mail bulletin from BabyCenter.com. It contained such heartwarming article headlines as:
- Top 7 baby expenses to be ready for
- Calculate the cost of your baby's first year
- Surprising baby bills you may not expect
- 30 things that will change when you have a baby
- Name Game Drama: Moms-to-be are tired of the baby name battles
Now, I'm all for a realistic picture of parenthood, but this particular email was pushing it too far. These are the kinds of emails you send to someone who is trying to conceive not someone 11 weeks in. Why not just send an email entitled: "Get ready for your life to become completely unrecognizable and your bank account to become empty?" Or, better still, "Ten reasons why you may want to consider adoption."
Now, before all you current mothers start getting all self-righteous on me and either (a) extolling the many marvelous things about motherhood or (b) wagging your finger at me because of course I should expect that a baby will change my/our life - STOP RIGHT THERE! Give me more credit than that. OF COURSE I am aware of both arguments. I'm not an idiot and this baby was not the result of a broken condom.
But, just like learning that the little salamander in my stomach is going to be drinking his/her own pee for the next 6 months, there are some realities I just don't want to be pounded over the head with - especially not all at once in one email.
Ok, so I'm done ranting about the email. Yes, this blog still has "rants" in the title, and for good reason. When it comes to me: I rant therefore I am.
On a separate note re: yesterdays "Grrrr" battelcry, I would like to say to all of you that probably shook your head and sighed "Ahh, TV, you will learn," - PHOOEY ON YOU! A positive, I'm going to beat this if it kills me attitude, absolutely did make a difference to my yesterday and to my today. I feel immensely better, if still hungry, nauseaus and fat.
I have a big in-person presentation in less than 2 weeks and I'm trying to decide whether to give-in and wear the maternity clothes I recently purchased, or whether to purchase some non-maternity close in just a larger size. Current work clothes do not fit in any way shape or form due to the large amounts of food I have been consuming, so not even a BellaBand is an option at this point in most cases. On the other hand, none of my increased girth can yet be realistically attributed to baby TV, so wearing maternity clothes at 3 months is just a little embarassing to say the least - mainly because anyone who oohs and ahhs at me and tries to "pet" my belly, is only going to be met with a jibbering mound of flesh.
Here is where you existing mothers MAY extoll your opinions and advice without fear of TV retribution... I humbly await your wisdom.
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