One last post

And it's going to be a long one.

Emma is here. She is nearly two and half weeks old already and I'm starting to emerge (just a little, not a lot) from the haze of the first two weeks. And it's a good thing because she has chosen this time to develop some kind of gas/colic/reflux issue. Not sure which yet. That's fun as a barrel of monkeys let me tell you.

Come to think of it, a barrel of monkeys sounds like a lot of noise and poo so there's more accuracy than sarcasm there than I had intended.

It's amazing how when a baby enters your life, suddenly everything is so very different, yet you can't imagine a time before her or life without her. Giving birth has also exposed a heretofore hidden capacity I have for murder. If anyone ever harmed a hair on this child's head, I could kill that person... slowly, painfully and without regret... 

Here is Emma's birth story, or as much as I remember of it, with the help of The Captain and my mama.

My water broke at 5:30am on Saturday the 24^th.  I knew that my doctor’s policy was to call them as soon as this happened and I also knew they would have me come in to the hospital to confirm that my water had broken and then keep me there for the duration.  I wanted to labor at home as long as possible so I didn’t call until 10:30am. They of course told me to come in.


I lagged for most of the rest of the day. The Captain and I went to get sandwiches for lunch at Mattern Deli  ( I had a German salami sandwich which was delicious going down and awful when it later came back up. More on that soon). After that we were going to try to run an errand at Home Depot, so I could walk around a little but after lunch much more action started in my uterine region so we went home to get packed up and head to the hospital.

We drove to Hoag with very little traffic on the 55 (!) and were admitted around 5:00pm on.  A very nice older nurse volunteered to get us all settled in. This included inserting an IV and  unfortunately, I shit you not, she was rather palsied. She actually said to me before she began "You may not want to look, I kind of make a mess of this". The Captain and I stared at each other disbelievingly as she mangled one vein and then another. 

Now I have a problem with needles and blood that is mine being anywhere but inside of my veins and I could feel it rushing in rivulets down my hand and between my fingers as I just stared wide-eyed at my husband who was also looking anywhere but at the the carnage. She asked me after the second try to not 'wiggle this time'. The Captain at this point was trying not to laugh more out of shock than anything else. She finally got the IV in, pretty haphazardly and tried to wrap up the absorbent pad without me seeing all the blood on it. She was not successful. When I eventually made it to the recovery room, the nurse that removed the IV commented about the terrible job and all the tape. Awesome.

The Captain and I breathed a sigh of relief when that first nurse said she was off in an hour. The nurse that came on the next shift and was there for the duration was wonderful.

I went through a few hours of relatively normal labor and the contractions strengthened. I bounced on the ball, sat in the shower, rocked in the rocking chair, walked around and around…. Most of this was back labor by the way. Which hurts... a lot.

 This is where it starts to get  complicated and a little hazy for me. I was in a lot of pain, so much that I threw up -violently- during some of the contractions but was still desperately trying not to get an epidural (although I did take some anti-nausea medicine.) Not due to any kind of aversion to drugs mind you, but I was terrified of the size of the needle and my precious spine and the two of them being so close together and I had some serious misconceptions about epidurals in general that I will clear up for you all later.

 At some point around the middle of the night I was on all fours during contractions and collapsing on a pile of pillows on my stomach during the two minutes or so between them.  The Captain and my mom were amazing, snoozing with me for the couple of minutes between contractions, then waking when I would breathlessly wheeze out one of their names, they would wake up and hold my hand and rub my back urging me on, reminding me the contractions were for a purpose and opening things up. Unfortunately at around 6 centimeters, the contractions stopped doing anything. 

I was between six and seven centimeters for nearly five hours, three of which I was also on Pitocin (low levels).  It was so demoralizing, all the pain and energy and time doing nothing... We were all getting to the end of our rope. And I was starting to get extremely tired and that was making me afraid that I wouldn't have any strength left for the final push and that fear was making the contractions harder to deal with. There are memories during this particular segment of the evening, when I felt so trapped and afraid and exhausted, that I can recall them should I ever need to call up tears on cue, for example,


Tearfully: "I'm sorry Officer. I don't know whyyyyy I did that"


Finally at hour 29, my doctor who had arrived for her shift, thankthebabyjesus (a silver lining to my labor lasting so long - If Emma had come on Saturday someone else would have delivered her) and she came in to talk to me about the situation. She told me they were going to test the strength of my contractions to determine what the issue was  we were dealing with, then we would have to have 'a conversation'.

 I knew this was the c-section conversation and started to cry. I had tried so hard to not have a c-section, I realize there isn't much you can do if it's medically indicated but that was one of my main reasons for refusing the epidural and I had spent so many hours trying to get her out naturally... I was so disappointed.


They tested my contractions and they weren't nearly strong enough any more to get anything done. She told me this left me with two options. They could jack up the pitocin level a lot higher for which I would need the epidural  and hope that worked or she would have to medically recommend the c-section. I was exhausted, confused and a little disoriented,  so I called The Captain over and asked him to tell me what to do. 'Epidural babe, it's going to be fine. You'll be fine' and then I heard my mom say from the other side of the room 'One way or the other, the pain is over'.  And a teeny little part of me relaxed a little bit. And I cried a little more.

The anesthesiologist that administered the epidural, who in my opinion is a Golden God, was fantastic. As soon as he walked in we all eased up a little. His whole demeanor was so comforting and laid back. He reminded me of The Captain and made me feel a skosh (it's a word) less terrified of the procedure.


So, leaning on my husband, I let them stick a gigantic needle juuuuuust far enough in to not breach the 'dura'    And  in just a few minutes there were rainbows and butterflies, birds singing, unicorns and no pain. I could still move my legs, still feel them actually, I could still feel the pressure of the contractions but no pain. NO PAIN!!! It was glorious...

The epidural taken at the right time (and dilation) makes the climax of the pregnancy experience more memorable and (I'm not kidding) enjoyable. I was not exhausted any more, I felt strong and alert and more than ready for the most important part.  Another one of the misconceptions I had about the epidural was that the baby might come out groggy or less alert and thus not be ready to nurse which was very important to me. She , however, nursed like a champ and was awake for five or six hours after birth, so that was not an issue. And she got an 8.9 Apgar score. This is just my opinion but the epidural saved me from a c-section and I can't say enough about it.

So where was I?

OH and then... I slept. I'm not sure how long. But it was exactly what I needed. When I woke up, I was dilated ten cm and Emma was at +3 station in my pelvis, ready to roll. The pitocin and epidural had done their job and no c-section would be necessary.  Hooooo- RAH! 

I pushed for about 39 minutes and  33 hours from when we started Emma popped right out. There was no pain, but because of the lightness of the epidural and the rest it allowed me  to have I was able to feel the contractions coming, and be present and active in pushing her out. It was wonderful. At one point the delivering nurse asked me if I wanted a mirror to 'see what was going on' I frantically shook my head, wide-eyed behind the oxygen mask. NOOOOOOO thank you!!! I went by my mama and The Captain's faces. That was something I will never forget. They were so ecstatic, crying and supporting me and telling me what was happening. 

Emma Moira joined us at 2:09 pm on Sunday the 25th perfect and healthy and our lives were forever changed. 

If you stuck with me through that whole recount, thank you. And if you've stuck with me through this whole wild ride thank you again, so much. The blog posts have been a very memorable part of this pregnancy and it has been a great pleasure to be able to share them and this pregnancy with all of you. 

Much love to all of you. We'll see you soon!

xoxo
Leah

Any day now, little lady....

No pressure, but uh, well there IS pressure in that entire region, due to your head and where it is crammed... and frankly, it's getting pretty uncomfortable carrying you around.  And I'm tired...Between you  making me pee every hour or so, the heartburn getting unbelievably worse and your dad's violent and noisy sleep habits, I am exhausted. I realize these are preparatory drills, I get the point. I know I won't be sleeping soundly for the foreseeable future. Can I just have a few days before the meconium hits the fan?

No? Alright, nevermind.

A Holding Pattern

I am currently 80% effaced (go ahead and google that if you need to) and at least 1 cm dilated (as of Friday) so technically I am in the early stages of labor. This includes lots of contractions and an abundance of new and interesting pelvic pains.  The contractions have ceased to be cute and are now becoming serious. I have to breathe through them and find myself thinking 'wow, this whole thing is going to be really.fricking.uncomfortable'. The child is wedged comfortably at what 'they' like to call 0-station in my pelvis (see below - yeah, she's hanging out right there. Awesome.)

Although this all sounds very exciting she seems pretty comfortable riiiight where she is, as evidenced by this photo of her taken last Thursday. That does not look like a child that is eager to go anywhere... In fact, if I didn't know any better, I would say that she is wearing a little smirk. Is there a genetic predisposition for smirking??

My pregnancy-magnified neuroses have not settled down in the slightest, much to the chagrin of the poor Captain. The other night he was trying to make dinner and I decided that right at that moment is was imperative that I mop the kitchen floor.

It's a pretty hysterically insane picture I paint for you, The Captain trying to maneuver around me to fix a meal as I frantically mop the floor under his feet. Him eyeing me with concern and asking,

'You have to do this now, honey?'

'YES I HAVE TO DO THIS NOW! Oh my god, have you seen how filthy the hood over this stove is?!'

He then takes the gibbering mess that is his wife, and puts her on the couch with her feet on some cushions as she breathes heavily and with wide, mad eyes scans the living room looking for something else to clean.

Poor man, the only thing that will stop this madness, is the madness of a brand new human in our home. And I can't even guarantee it will end there.

So, the plan for the next few days is lots of spicy food, 'exercise' (wink) and trampolining (what? no?)

And check out our new 'Put The Baby To Sleep Device' (it rocks, literally and figuratively) and the beautiful quilt my Aunt Kathleen made for the bebe!

Hoping you're all well.

XO
Leah

Peanut butter m&m's are far superior to peanut m&m's

After significant (significant) research I have come to the conclusion that the Peanut Butter M&M's are just much better than the Peanut M&M's, and I thought you should know. Try them consecutively and repeatedly as I have and tell me if you don't agree.

I have several things to discuss with you and not a whole lot of time in which to do that so we're going to move rather quickly here.

Photos: Here is a picture of Pickle the Mouth Breather taken at our last ultrasound.

The top of the image is all cloudy because there was not enough room between her forehead and the uterine wall for the ultrasound to get a clear reading. We have one more ultrasound appointment before the due date but getting another great shot will be tough . She's waaaay down in my pelvis and there just isn't a whole lot of room in there.

She's either going to be a dancer or an epileptic judging by the amount of movement that is apparently necessary in utero. She still doesn't have this mythical 'down time' I hear so much about. When I first wake up and if I stay reaaally still, she's quiet but as soon as she knows I'm up, she's up too and giving me a rousing rendition of the dance number from Let's Call the Whole Thing Off ( Fred and Ginger Calling The Whole Thing Off ) and it really doesn't stop throughout the day. I am losing hope that she will take after the Captain in this regard and be a solid napper. She will be more like me I think and not want to sleep much because she might be missing something cool.

Moving on.

Pregnancy Pro-Tip: Do not get a new Driver's License picture in the eighth month of  pregnancy. Although The Captain and I were married in August of 2009, I had taken my sweet time processing  all the name-change shenanigans, but as The Pickle's arrival loomed ever closer, I realized it was probably time for me to become an official "Mrs. Captain".

And at the DMV, those bastards made me take a new picture...at eight months pregnant. When the DMV employee took the shot he actually said 'Very nice. Pretty picture.' I don't know what he was looking at. Because what I'm looking at is something that very closely resembles a mug-shot of a bloated and dazed street person. I'm tempted to go pay another $25 and have another picture taken after I have the kid. Ridiculous? Yes. Yet still a possibility? Yes.

Grandma: My mom will be in the labor and delivery room with me so I took her on a tour of the maternity ward at Hoag. It is a lovely place but throughout the tour I could hear these little 'hmphs' every once in awhile coming from the direction of my mom as the nurse spoke. At the end of the tour, as we were walking toward the elevators she hissed in my ear,

"I feel like I gave birth to you in a CAVE!"  

What a difference 30 years makes.

Baby Showers: I had my baby shower. It was wonderful to see all my friends and family together. I am, however, at a stage in my pregnancy where I sweat profusely even if I'm doing nothing at all and opening gift after gift in front of a crowd with sweat droplets gathering on my upper lip and in my knee pits, kind of awkward

It was a milestone though and I spent the rest of the day in a very introspective state. After seeing all these things the baby would use and clothes she would wear, she became more real to me in a way that is difficult to explain.

My friend Kelly who threw the shower had everyone decorate some little onesies for The Pickle while they were there. They were hanging to dry in the sun on a clothesline in my mom's backyard and it was such a pretty picture, all these teensy little onesies with my friends' personalities all over them. It made me choke up... just a little.

Unexpected Pregnancy Symptoms #642 and #643:
 #642: Do you remember falling riiiight on your crotch on the jungle gym or your bike as a kid and it hurt so much it took your breath away? Well that's what getting punched in the hoo-ha from the inside kind of feels like. It's not as bad but it definitely makes you wheeze and stop whatever you're doing.

#643: Hearing loss. It doesn't happen to everyone but the jacked-up levels of hormones in a pregnant woman's body can do exciting things and one of those things for me is not being able to hear very well. A conversation with my boss when there is a lot of background noise could currently go something like this:

Boss: Leah, can you please grab those copies from the printer for this meeting

Leah: The waves are choppy and you have a splinter from the seating?!?! What the hell are you talking about?

Boss: [sigh] Nevermind.

Blessings Upon The Captain: It's not easy to sleep with an unwieldy woman taking upwards of three minutes to shift from one side to the other, right next to you, several times a night. I tend to make lot of noise while I'm doing it too (see: groans, moans, grumblings, grunts).  It's so super sexy [\sarcasm] yet he makes me feel beautiful and loved every day and I am unbelievably fortunate to have him.

Stay tuned. We are full term in two weeks and that's when The Pickle will get her eviction notice. We'll see how she takes it.

Love,

Leah

Okay

I'm over it now... I know it's ridiculous, I just feel like I'm packing on the weight at this point (which I know is what is supposed to happen, don't try to reason with me, I'm insane right now) and my rear-end and thighs are taking one for the team.

I have mirrors on my closet doors in my new house, and I spent some quality time with them this morning... That was probably a bad idea... I didn't even get my usual after-OB appointment celebratory egg, cheese and hash brown burrito from the Del Taco, which made me sad because those things are stupid-good.

My juvenile vanity being set aside, I'm moving on.

Had my 32 week OB appointment today. Everything still looking great, however dig THESE numbers: Baby is measuring large by a week. My uterus is measuring small by a week. (both numbers are in great normal range) My OB says 'you're probably feeling pretty stuffed right about now, hahahaha'. Oh ha, ha, ha. Comedy isn't your thing doc, stick to the baby-birthin... She reminds me of the church lady for some reason. Can you imagine that in the labor and delivery room?!

Church Chat with Danny Devito and Willie Nelson

'Loooooks like we're going to hafta do a liiiiittle episiotomy. Isn't that special?'

My fetal diagnostic tests start tomorrow. My doctor told me today that although she doesn't anticipate anything being wrong since this pregnancy has gone perfectly, from here on out, I have to go to Hoag twice a week for non-stress tests on the babeh, due to my being diagnosed with and treated for severe high blood pressure before I got pregnant and that I need to have my go-bag packed because if anything shows up on the tests, the hospital will not allow me to leave... whoah. That info was such a mind-bender it caused me to create quite the run-on sentence there. Did you see that?

Anyway, five more weeks and we will have a full term baby on our hands...

Love,

Leah

A buck fifty coming soon

one...hundred...and....forty....seven....pounds.... 

i'll post more when i've finished with this panic attack...

Chocolate chip M&M cookie? Yes please

sheesh. I tell ya. I cannot stay away from the sweets.  It's ridiculous!  And some a-hole left a pile of chocolate chip & mm's cookies on the counter near my desk. I have a perfectly good pear staring at me pointedly. Bleh.

A Confession: We moved last weekend to our wonderful new house. I spent Monday organizing our bedroom and bathroom. The way I put things away in the cabinet in the bathroom (although awesome in it's categorical organization) and did not allow room for our super-sized bottle of mouthwash. So it was on the counter.

The Captain, unbeknownst to me, came in and reorganized the cabinet to fit the Listerine. When I opened the cabinet to get something later that evening, I nearly started to hyperventilate because NOTHING...WAS...IN... THE...SAME... PLACE!!! AND the stuff was  no longer organized by product type and use.

I'm sorry to say I seriously had a little Rainman breakdown, The Captain started speaking very quietly and backing slowly out of the bathroom while I muttered insanely, moving all products back to their original position... THE ORIGINAL POSITION!! 'whywouldIwantnailpolishremoverbymynightcream,itneedstobebymynailpolishandwhat
thehellisthisdoinguphereitsupposedtobedownheredefinitelydownhereohmygodohmygod"

After I had recovered from my episode I breathlessly thanked The Captain profusely for letting me have a complete neurotic breakdown and letting me leave the mouthwash on the counter!

He's the best.

The smartest fetus ever

Ultrasound update: We had our 30-week ultrasound today and The Pickle is 'head-down' finally! She's been breech for two months which was concerning me, but a couple of days ago I felt some serious shifting around in there and suspected that she had changed position. Sure enough, she's now feet-up and ready to go. She's such a smart fetus...

She's also measuring big. She's in the 66th percentile for size (translation: she's 16% bigger than average). This is fantastic because it gives me ammo when the people say 'You're so smaaalll! Are you sure you're eating enough for the BABY?!'  I can now say, 'Yes, I sure am. She's a fatty. I have data to prove it. Thank you for asking'

She was sucking on her umbilical cord during the visit. What. A. Weirdo.

Large and in charge update: Pregnancy annoyance #67. I'm really clumsy right now and drop things constantly when I'm too big to easily pick them up. The Irony.

Something weird I've noticed: I was recently talking to someone about the pregnancy information site's weekly fetal development updates. For some reason, when trying to illustrate the current size of the fetus for the pregnant mom, they consistently equate it to an obscure food item (usually a fruit or vegetable, but sometimes a nut), like a kumquat or a persimmon. 

Sometimes they run out of ideas and your baby is 'the size of a medium carrot'. What the....? Because your curious, I'll tell you, currently this baby is the size of a Chinese cabbage. Not a regular cabbage. A Chinese cabbage.

It is important to specify because you could be thinking my baby looks more like this.

But she doesn't.

Shirking update: The best time to move? Is when you're pregnant. We're moving this weekend and I will be doing such low impact things as lining the cabinets, hanging up clothes and putting away dishes. I'm so bummed. So bummed .;)


We got some okay pictures of her today, but nothing incredible. She had her face smooshed up against the wall of the uterus, so no 3d this time. And just the usual gorgeous profile was available. I won't bore you with all my baby pictures.....yet, :insertevillaugh:

Love,

Leah

Large and in charge

I don't know how two weeks got by without some insane post from Drinking Dirty Martinis! However in the last couple of weeks there has not been that much to report which is a very good thing.

My 29th week starts tomorrow. All the 'extenders' I have bought for my bras are at capacity. I am currently (tightly) fitting into size Large underwear..*WARNING* if I have to purchase extra-large underwear I may have a breakdown... and I still have more than two months to go.

I'm tired again, not nearly as bone-tired as I was in the first trimester but just tired. A nap always sounds good. The captain and I took a mini-break at the beach over Mother's Day weekend and spent nearly all Sunday napping and reading. Oh blessed day.

I hate clothes right now. HATE! And those of you who know exactly how many clothing items I actually possess (I have a LOT of clothes) will find that shocking. I don't want to buy the super cute/hip (and super expensive) maternity clothes that I will only wear once (yes I'm looking at you Pea in the Pod, you and your ridiculously priced maternity tops and pants) so instead I've augmented all my empire waist dresses and yoga pants with the super-tent-like and affordable maternity clothes that make me look ghastly, GHASTLY!

In the third trimester, a common affliction is the Charley Horse and he has visited me recently. No one (yes I'm looking at you experienced Obstetricians and Perinatologists who paid ridiculous amounts for your educations) seems to know why they occur but CRIPES! It is awful. If you've had one before you know what I'm talking about. I've gotten them occasionally over the years but the other night (or early morning rather) it hit both legs within an hour of one another. It's basically an excruciating leg cramp, that is so vicious your calves are actually sore the following day and they usually occur while your sleeping and thus you are violently wakened in the wee hours by the sensation that someone is trying to wrench your leg off at the knee, I kid you not. So I practiced my Yoga (soon to be Labor) Breathing and threw some f-bombs in there for good measure. My favorite part was when The Captain woke a little due to  my agonized moans and groggily muttered before falling right back to sleep after the second attack 'That's a crappy way to wake up...ouch'. You know another crappy way to wake up? With a pillow over your face... Just sayin'...

My Baby Shower is coming up! Wow, thinking of myself in the context of a baby shower (mine or anyone else's) has never been comfortable. But I'm pretty excited. Mostly because all my favorite ladies will be there. I love all my favorite ladies. That's why they're my favorite.

I hope all is well with you. Me and The Pickle are cruisin right along.

Here is a picture of the belly. It's a little bigger now as that picture was a couple of weeks ago. But you get the idea.

Love,

Leah

PS Congratulations to my friend Lauren who had a beautiful baby boy on May 4th. Welcome to the world Hunter! It's pretty cool here. I think you'll like it.

Let the third trimester.... COMMENCE

I can't believe I'm already in the third trimester.

Updates:  Most importantly, I do NOT have the

which is awesome news. I failed my first screening, but passed the awful 4 hour test easily.  I don't know how or why. That whole testing process seems like a lot of hooey to me. But I can continue to berate myself for horking down jelly donuts regularly. Which is great.

Testing bonus: They couldn't get my left arm to give any blood so all FIVE draws came from my right. I look like someone has been handling me very roughly and cannot currently wear short sleeves out of the house...

Kick counts: I was given a Kick Count Chart at my last OB visit. This chart is hilarious to me because the way it is formatted. I'm supposed to log how many hours it takes to feel ten kicks, rolls, right hooks, left hooks, pretty much any movement, and I'm supposed to do this during her active time (apparently there's a specific and isolated time during which babies are usually more active...someone should let my kid know this). 

After I picked myself up off the floor from laughing so hard I decided 'what the hell, this should be fun'.  This is a sample of a few days of kick counting. That first duration, that's not 1 hr and 26 min. That's right it's 1min and 26 seconds. And that's the longest it's taken for me to feel ten kicks.

Apr 17, 2010 9:21 AM:
Duration = 0:01:26
Kicks = 10

Apr 18, 2010 8:33 AM:
Duration = 0:00:52
Kicks = 10

Apr 19, 2010 8:31 AM:
Duration = 0:00:25
Kicks = 10

Apr 20, 2010 2:11 PM:
Duration = 0:00:28
Kicks = 10

I'm not counting the teeny little nudges either. Just the ones that are so hard they are visible...from the outside 'An active baby means a healthy baby' my OB says in this chipper sing-song voice. An active baby means a sleepy mommy is what I say. I have to wake up to pee about three times a night and when I do, she's up... and havin a hoe-down, even implementing some new moves, specifically one I call the Travolta or The Feevah

Her position is breech, which is totally fine at this stage in the pregnancy, but that's how I know she's partying in there like it's 1977 with that finger pointing up and a leg pointing down. Other Hoe-Down moves feel a lot like Jed Clampett dancing around the spouting oil font in the opening credits of the Beverly Hillbillies, riiiiight on my bladder. awesome.

Dreams: They're getting a lot weirder. That is all you need to know.

Snoogle: Oh blessed Snoogle, you look like a tapeworm but you feel like you're made of Awesome at an Awesome Factory.

My sister-in-law gave me this and it has really helped with my sciatica (sciatica, scientifically defined is a 'OH HOLY CRAP!!!  WHAT THE HELL IS THAT?!?! stabbing kind of pain on the right side of my lower back, in a somewhat center of the butt cheek kind of a location...if you want to get technical about it.)  The snoogle has been amazing in relieving this pain and has really improved the quality of sleep I get when I actually get it. So big props and thank yous to Julie.

Injustices I've Suffered: My OB reprimanded me for gaining 6 lbs last month, putting me at a grand total of 11 lbs gained two-thirds of the way through the pregnancy. I'm supposed to gain somewhere between 25-35 lbs by the end. She is outrageous... I am OUTraged  ;)

Pictures: 

There she is, at our last ultrasound visit on the 20th. She looks all grumpy, like the diabeetus cat...

Love,

Leah

Why is that stupid 'R' backward anyway?

Babies R Us. The Baby SUUUUPERStore

How could such a cute logo represent so much evil? Deception R Us, more like.

I couldn't decide which of the nine rings of hell described in The Inferno I could most accurately compare this retail establishment. I can only express the most sincere gratitude to my mother and sister for getting me through the experience of registering for baby stuff.

Let me first say that walking around for two and half hours anywhere at six months pregnant is no picnic. Walking around for two and half hours amidst a bewildering array of mysterious items and being asked to choose the most appropriate, safe, cost-efficient and high-quality products that you will actually need? That is about as fun as cleaning out rain gutters after a long winter that are filled with decomposing leaves and dead birds...

'What's your theme?' my sister asked as we got started. My theme?! My theme is, uuuh, something not pink, or cat-related, or dog related for that matter.

My theme is uuuuuuh, not jungle animals or bunnies, I don't find the frogs totally aesthetically offensive.

Okay so you didn't ask 'What isn't your theme', but I haven't even pondered a 'theme'. I don't plan on this kid having a separate room from me until she moves out of the house so it's not really an issue. The theme is 'sleeping in mom's room my whole life has made me socially awkward so I don't date'. That's my theme.

I kid. And digress

After looking at about 9 or 10 things in the bedding section, I started to feel pretty overwhelmed and, admittedly got a little teary. I'm used to handling my shit. I'm not bragging, lord knows I have quite enough flaws to be getting on with. But in general I don't get flustered or frazzled easily. But, I tell you, I had no idea what I was doing in there, no idea what I needed, what the baby needed, which items were the best for all of those needs. I have never felt so grossly unqualified to be doing something in my ENTIRE life. And this involves the care of a BABY. It felt like a  most daunting kind of metaphor. The kind that brings your awareness of your own insufficiency to a nauseating, sweaty height.

If I hadn't had my mama and sister there, I probably would have waddled frantically and rapidly toward the door at that point. And that's when my sister took over, commandeering the little scanning gun and marching around the store like a drill sergeant. They asked me questions and gave me insight and advice on nearly 100 baby-related items on the Babies R Us Suggestion List which I just absolutely had to have in order to properly care for my baby (such bullshit) as I trudged behind them, glassy-eyed and dazed, sometimes mumbling incoherently, sometimes just standing there with my mouth hanging open like the village idiot.

I could really only comment on patterns and styles that I liked. When it came to utilitarian items, I had to leave it up to them.

We ended the experience with the clothing. I know I've been told by many people not to get any clothes because she will get TONS of clothes as hand-me-downs and gifts. But if we hadn't finished up with that relatively fun part, I would have left feeling totally emotionally and physically wasted. There is some seriously hilarious shit to clothe your baby in. My favorite was the little top with the crocheted neck line, trippy seventies star pattern and rainbow striped tights. I like to call this ensemble My Little Acid Trip 0-3 months, for when you want to dress your child like a crazy homeless person...

In other not-so-awesome news, my glucose screening came back with my glucose levels elevated by a couple of points. So now I have to go back for that dreaded four-hour test on Monday. I love how everyone at my OB's office keeps telling me 'You most likely don't have it. More than 3/4 of the women who fail the first test pass the second'... But hey, why don't you worry about it for a couple of days. Then we'll starve you for 14 hours and force a half gallon of glucose down your throat and draw your blood four times. It'll be great...

This is not designed to make me happy.

Next OB appointment, Tuesday the 20th which means MOOOOORE PICS... I love those stinkin appointments. I like being able to see this kid I spend so much QT with.

Have a great weekend,

Love,

Leah

Look out! This rant is liable to take a head off...

I'm sitting here with powdered sugar all down my front (including my large belly) licking the jelly out of the center of a jelly-filled (powdered) doughnut wondering what the hell has happened to me.

I feel gross today.  I'd been doing a really good job of moving my butt nearly every day, but since the almost back to back stomach flu and sinus infection/head cold I haven't exercised nearly as much. So so why am I eating this jelly donut?!  WHY?!  I don't really even WANT the jelly filled doughnut. But it's there, sooooo... you know....

WHO IS THIS PERSON!? And will she go away once I have the baby?? I can't wait until I'm getting all my sugars and carbohydrates from healthy things like beer and wine again...

A woman in my office came by my desk this morning to 'commiserate' and tell me she is fighting a STOMACH FLU and has already thrown up twice today. *$@(#**#)(*#.   Listen lady, I don't need to be a hero, I don't come in the office if I'm contagious and/or BARFING. Get your carrier-monkey butt out of here because if I catch the stomach flu again I will have my revenge and it will involve forced repeated viewings of Xanadu and sleep deprivation.

She also mentioned this is the second time she's had it in three weeks. Well gee, I wonder where I caught my farking stomach flu THREE WEEKS AGO! :fistshake: Why don't you just come over here and lick all of my office supplies individually and don't forget my keyboard and phone. I'm hoping this will help in my Justifiable Homicide defense when I kill you.

Note: I'm not going to kill anyone, but I feel a lot better having threatened to kill someone. Does that make me a bad person? Please don't judge...

I'm really glad it's Friday.

Love,
Leah

The first thing I've bought for the baby

It's just too much... a little onesie with her nickname on it. Why is there a onesie out there with an image and the word Pickle on it? I don't question the generosity of the Universe. I just go with it....

Lots of heartburn = more hair? Perfect

Scientists at Johns Hopkins University have confirmed that pregnant women with above average heartburn have babies with above average amounts of hair.

Considering that both The Captain and I already have ridiculous amounts of hair to begin with, our little Sasquatch is screwed.

The Info

The Future

In other news, work is being done on the house this weekend which involves shutting off the water for 24 hours, which involves a pregnant woman being sans toilet for 24 hours. How can this end well, you might ask? It can't, I would say....

Have a great weekend everyone!

Love,

Leah

Gastroentiwhatta?

an intestinal virus. That's what. And it hit me like an express train at about 11 p.m. on Friday night. You can guess that the rest of this post will be chock full of TMI.

I went out on Friday and had Japanese food with The Captain and some friends. I had one little teeny sliver of seared fish amidst all the tempura, hot rolls and teriyaki chicken. Don't worry, they'll be back later.

I woke up close to 11 p.m. and something was amiss. I sprinted to the kitchen sink (because it's closer than the bathroom) and thus began about 7 hours of :insertcrescendoofscarymusichere: DOUBLE DRAGON.

I was terrified that this violent sickfest was going to dislodge the babeh (irrational? yes) or physically traumatize her in some other way, or that the Del Taco I'd had for lunch, or that sliver of seared fish had given me some food-borne illness that would harm her in some other way. Turns out intestinal bugs are pretty common and listed in all my 'All About Your Pregnancy' books, wherein, I was basically instructed to rest and take plenty of fluids and not worry about the baby.

SHE was going to be fine. I, on the other hand, was perched over or on a toilet for hours in the fifth ring of hell. (I'm not even going to go where that pun could take me. Not gonna do it.)

By Sunday morning I was feeling almost 100% better, bizarre since at 3 a.m. on Friday I was envisioning an Emergency Room and intravenous drip.

Then this morning, Six Year Old Stepson allayed my food-borne illness fears, although belatedly, by puking all over the place. WELCOME TO THE 24 HOUR STOMACH FLU!

Usually the illness sequence in our house starts with him, but with my immune system being the most compromised at this point I was the instigator this time. I'm kind of proud...

Later this morning The Captain and I went to the 22 wk ultrasound. He was rear-ended on the way to our appointment driving our Ford Tank. He and the Tank are absolutely fine. The Toyota however, was not. Ford-1 Toyota- 0.

My mama came with us to this ultrasound. It was so fun to see her see the baby. She squealed, for lack of a better word, 'OH IS THAT THE PICKLE!' when the baby first made her on-screen appearance and was pretty blown away by the images we have access to now. Sidenote: We called the baby The Pickle for the first few months before she became a She. Don't ask.

The baby looks perfect, everything looks perfect. Her heart is incredible to see in that perfection, the rhythm and the strength of it. I love the beautiful intricacy of her flawless spine and watching her hands and feet move. She yawned in there. That was so freakin cute.

I am deeply relieved that all is well after our harrowing weekend.

Okay it wasn't that harrowing, but it sure felt like it at the time. Once again, The Captain kept me calm and eased my fears as much as he could. He took care of me like a champ. Every day, I'm reminded that I picked exactly the right Captain.



The Little Imp was pretty mellow in there during the appointment, pretending to be all sweet and calm, like she doesn't kick and punch the crap out of me all day long.... deeevious...


Leah

What to expect when

when you're about five months pregnant.

Like I've said before, I've had a relatively easy pregnancy and I'm fully aware of and grateful for it. But pregnancy is still physically, emotionally and psychologically challenging no matter what. And now, if you'll permit me, I'd like to indulge in a brief 'self-pity' party.

A couple of weekends ago, I went to my friend Lauren's baby shower where they served many tasty hors d'ouevres and some petit fours that were so good I would like to devise a way to mainline them. We had a lovely afternoon, played some games ( I won one, go me!) and then was the opening of the gifts. She got so many thoughtful gifts and one of them was a little bath tub filled with odds and ends she would need, like nail clippers with a leeeeeeetle magnifying glass and The Snot Sucker (I dread The Snot Sucker which is why it has earned the CAPS) and finally, this mysterious object

Now, I'm not going to lie, it was packaged and labeled correctly, but it was so foreign to me and came in a BATH TUB so I instantly thought it was some terrifying Baby Cleaning device and I blurted out 'What d you do to a baby with THIS?' And all of the ladies laaaughed and laaaaughed as I sheepishly read 'Bottle Brush and Sponge' on the package.

Now this kind of shit worries me. I consider myself a relatively intelligent person but my first, albeit brief, thought when I saw this was 'that doesn't look like a nice thing to clean a baby with'. Ugh. Granted, one moment later it was clear what it was and I probably would have reached the same conclusion withOUT reading the packaging, but still. oh. my. god. I told someone recently that being pregnant is like playing poker, loooong stretches of boredom spiked with moments of terror and anxiety and then hopefully the glorious rush of winning your hand. Well those spikes of anxiety are not helped by evidence of my complete baby ignorance...

Moving on.

And I'll keep this one brief because it's petty and I know it but...

I really liked my body. I was having a pretty good time with it. Now my belly button is missing and my ass, which was never meager, is getting absurd. That is all.

Physically, I'm doin very very well, but this heartburn, OH THIS HEARTBURN, I can be rockin it aaaalll day long heartburn-free and then I snuggle into my bed at the end of the day, lay my head gently on my pillow, breathe a sigh of relief to get off my feet and finally horizontal and then BOOM, I seriously feel like an ice cold FIRE (yes it's possible) is creeping up my esophagus. This heartburn is so bad it literally makes me cough and choke. Tums helps and being vertical helps so I know I'm being a baby about this, but I've never had heartburn, so it sucks. suuuuuuucks.

And finally, a few weeks ago it occurred to me ( and I'm not sure why it took nearly five months to do it) that this baby has to come OUT... of me! It will be IN and then it will need to come OUT. And I have to do that. I have to get this baby out, under my own steam. No one can do it for me. I have to PUSH a CHILD out of my body. :insert f bomb:

Other than that, I'm so excited to meet this little girl. She got her first presents yesterday. Such adorable (did I just say adorable? arrrgh) stuff. A little girl is going to be fun to dress, after she's done pooping and puking all over everything...

Love,
Leah

Well THANKS Clint Eastwood...

This article in the Daily Mail says some stupid Japanese researchers at the stupid Nagasaki University have determined that what I watch on TV is also affecting my unborn 'foetus' (stupid Daily Mail and their stupid British spelling of fetus)...

That would have been nice to know before I watched The Changeling last week. That damn movie was so sad and disgusting and terrifying (and also fantastically directed and scored by the uber-talented Clint Eastwood). At one point during this film The Captain had to unclench my sweaty fingers one at a time from around his crushed hand.

This poor baby...

Also, I'd like to point out that reading these stupid studies RAISES my stress level which the article also points out is pretty farking detrimental...

ugh...

Have an awesome weekend. I'm going to have a Pixar movie marathon.

post script: my apologies to Japanese researchers in general and the researchers at Nagasaki University specifically. That's just the hormones talking. I'm sure you're all very nice people. Also to the Brits, the way you spell theatre and humour is very charming. But 'foetus' looks gross to me. I don't know why. My apologies to you as well.

Bigger Baby = Stronger Kicks

She is getting bigger...and stronger. This morning as I was lazing in bed, she pulled a move I will call 'The Starfish'. This happens when she thrusts out all four appendages, simultaneously in different directions managing to hit me in four spots at once. And she is strong. This does not bode well.

Update: I'm starting to feel like my old self again from an energy standpoint. It's hard to explain the incredible fatigue that sets in in the first trimester. Granted, I still can easily fall in bed and sleep by 9pm but the all-day-long 'I want to sleep right now, on the floor' feeling has receded and left in it's place, what feels, comparatively like an enormous amount of energy. There are times during that first three months when you feel like you will be exhausted for the rest of your life. You forget what it felt like to NOT want to always be in sweat pants on the couch watching re-runs....and it feels really good when find yourself 'back' again, active, interested and alert...for the most part.

In medical news, my Gestational Diabeetus test is coming up. If it's possible, I'm going to wheedle my doctor into letting me out of it. Only 1/3 of women who test positive on the test actually have the diabeetus. When you arrive for the test, you're given a sugar solution that contains at least 50 grams of glucose. I'm told it tastes like the syrup part of soda pop. Disgusting. 15 to 23 percent of the time results come back abnormal even when there is no diabeetus and then there is another torturous three hour test, where they most likely will determine that I don't have GD. The point of the test is to see how efficiently my body is processing sugar, however, making me fast for the previous 8-14 hours or so prior and then giving me a huge dose of sugar which my body is not accustomed to anyway is most likely going to make my levels abnormal. That's not rocket science. I don't wanna do it. We'll see what happens.

In music news: I compiled some songs that make good lullabies for my cousin this week (and for my own future use, of course) because she was playing one last weekend repeatedly for her son that would have made me fail a Glucose Tolerance Test, it was so saccharine sweet, with some seriously irritating lyrics.

My collection thus far is pretty good, if I do say so myself, including Alison Krauss, Cat Stevens, James Taylor and Pink Floyd. Do YOU have any recommendations?

In Fashion news, I found one pair of pants this morning with a low enough waist that I can still wear them. joy. However I've gained about 4 pounds in two weeks. whoah.

Have a great weekend!

The aisle seat and other bonuses of being pregnant

So there are a few perks of being pregnant (aside from the big pay-off in the end.)

1) I get the aisle seat at the movies because I pee all the time. This also benefits me at restaurants when we are in a round booth. I've always hated being trapped in a movie aisle or a booth. Now I have an excuse to sit at the end.

2) I get to eat first. At my sister's wedding reception everyone made me cut ahead of them in the food line so I could get some lasagna, STAT. This was glorious.

3) WARNING for male readers: TMI. I haven't had my period in five months. BONUS!! Granted I still have the raging hormones so, too bad for the people around me but all the gnarly physical discomforts and inconveniences... nope...

4) My skin looks grrreeat!

5) My dreams are lucid and full of adventure. Nothing really scary or weird. But even the most intense dreams are more like watching an action film as I'm aware that I'm dreaming. This perk is particularly awesome.

6) I'm getting more creative with my outfits because my go-to 'jeans and a t-shirt' combo is no longer working.

7) Best Husband Ever Bonus: The Captain brings me breakfast in bed most days of the week, if he has time. MOST DAYS OF THE WEEK!! I am one ridiculously lucky lady.

In my second trimester the pros definitely outweigh the cons, however, BOO to heartburn. Man, that is UNcomfortable. And I get it from everything. It attacks without discretion.

Off Topic Addendum:

a) This baby is probably going to come out individually wrapped if the amount of string cheese I've eaten during this pregnancy is any indication

b) My grandpa stopped me while I was walking back down the aisle after my sister's wedding ceremony to hug me and holler "HOW'S MY LITTLE FAT GIRL?". nice

What were your knocked-up bonuses, ladies?

I hope this isn't indicative of her character...

The 18 week ultrasound and all is well. She has a good lookin heart, beautiful spine, distinctly un-clefted palate, looooong fingers and toes...and is apparently an exhibitionist.

The technician asked us if we wanted to know the gender. 'YES! yes yes yes yes...please', and almost instantly 'It's a girl!'. As you can see, the baby was most helpful in giving us an immediate and (extremely) clear view of what we were looking for.

I like how they gave me an arrow for my own reference. Uh, thanks... but in this case it's kind of obvious what I'm looking at...

You don't LOOK pregnant

Okay, I give. It's starting to bother me now.

What the eff do you MEAN I don't look pregnant? Are you insinuating that my belly looked like this prior to pregnancy? Because I can assure you it most certainly did not.

I'm small, I've always been small. But yes, there is a baby in there... I'm going to eat the next person who says 'you're so tiny! Are you sure you're pregnant?'

In other news, The Captain and I toured the Maternity ward at Hoag Hospital where we'll be having the baby. I chose this hospital specifically because I'm not a fan of hospitals. They generally skeeve me right out. They are epicenters of infectious disease, viral playgrounds, bacterial carnivales. I am fully aware of how neurotic I am. It's part of my charm. RIGHT!?

I believe this is why the universe gives us each two parents. The Captain is my counterpoint in this regard, relaxed and circumspect, a Pisces to the hilt. Anyway, I chose this hospital because First, the Maternity Ward is located in the Women's Center where only health issues pertaining to women are dealt with. This means that the general populace does not go in there with Swine Flu or Ebola or the Black Plague. Also, every time I've been there, to visit a new mom or an ill friend I've been impressed by how very un-hospitally it feels and what a calm and reassuring environment they've created there.

The Tour was a relief valve for me. The nurses we met were amazing. The rooms were large and comfortable. Most importantly, their approach to childbirth combined with my OB's is a relief to me. Essentially their attitude is, as long as there aren't any complications to take into consideration you can do whatever you need to to be comfortable and actively participate in birthin your babeh, i.e.: shower all day long, roll around on a birthing ball, bring in your own music/blankets/pillows, disco dance to songs from Mamma Mia, whatever... AND The Captain can stay with me the whole time I'm in there. There's even a couch that turns into a bed for him to sleep on. There was an overall sense of competence and care that made me relax a few more degrees into this intense experience I'm going to have. Excitement during pregnancy happens in stages. After the tour I was able to get to that next stage of excitement.

Of course next week is our 18 week ultrasound to check the baby's size and make sure that everything else is proceeding normally.

And of course, I'm really nervous...

Week 17

I am, apparently, carrying a Ninja in Training. In my 17th week and there is LOTS of movement in there...

It's difficult to concentrate on conversations at work while there is a scene from Kill Bill going on in your uterus. Very difficult

It actually feels more like there's a little fish swimming around in there most of the time, but several times a day there's quite a hard little right hook or left kick ...it feels exactly like someone poking you... but from the inside.

I have to say, although I know eventually as the baby grows this will probably become tiring and painful, this inner ass-kicking that I'm taking, but for the now the novelty and reassurance of feeling that baby move throughout the day is pretty damn awesome.

So practice those moves little Ninja, I'll get you back when you get out by making you eat this

boom.

Week 15

And I'm at that awkward stage where the people that don't know I'm pregnant are giving me sidelong glances that say 'whoah, maybe she shouldn't have that bag of candy bars at her desk'...


I haven't gained any weight yet because I lost a few pounds in the first trimester, mainly because I lost all my booze calories, but also because nothing sounded tasty to eat.
But now I'm definitely starting to show around the middle and I have these serious cravings for something sweet. The Captain asked me to bring our leftover Halloween candy into the office to foist it on my coworkers. They haven't seen a single Sweetie. I've been horking my way through it ever since.

I'm trying to be be healthier than I was pre-pregnancy, but last Wednesday I had a Crunch-Wrap supreme from Taco Bell ( a bewildering 'food item' I can only describe as a tostada wrapped in a giant flatbread tortilla, formed into a discus shape, then squashed in a george forman-like grill so it's been panini'd. We make commercials for taco bell, I have to eat their food sometimes... HAVE TO) and ate FOUR mini Nestle Crunch bars... I had a salad for dinner that night and enjoyed a gigantic helping of guilt for the next three days...

Please tell me that you've cheated on the healthy food on occasion during pregnancy.

Testing Testing 123

Week 14.

We need to decide whether or not to participate in all the genetic testing shenanigi (that's extra plural for shenanigans).

The Captain and I figured we are going to have the kid regardless of the results and the tests aren't conclusive enough to be comforting or even that informative (I don't consider a 67% average very good. That's a D+.) The tests come with a warning regarding the prevalence of false positives and false negatives. I am a healthy person who is not in any of the risk groups. I'm having this kid regardless, what good will the tests do?

I was going to list and define some of the heartbreaking disorders these tests attempt to detect, but it's energy spent on something scary and sad and really what is the point. Much like the tests. What is the point? We'll meet with the Doctor on Wednesday and discuss it one last time. If anyone has any helpful insight. It would be much appreciated.

Suffice to say that part of being pregnant today is reminding oneself that despite what sometimes feels like all evidence to the contrary, literally hundreds of millions of healthy human beings have been born without incident over hundreds of thousands of years in much more adverse situations and conditions. If, for whatever reason, my baby isn't one of those, I can handle it.

Moving on to something more lighthearted. The second trimester has officially begun. This is exciting for a number of reasons. We've had two very strong heartbeat readings and the last ultrasound showed a great looking baby and some serious limb action. We've got two, count 'em two, long legs, two arms waving about (if the kid isn't a mad gesturer I'll be very surprised, given his/her genes), and a gigantic head. (I say that's The Captain's fault, the technician says it's 'normal fetal development', we'll see who's right in the end.)

Another reason for Happy Joy Dance: once the second trimester begins, the risk of miscarriage drops dramatically. Woo!

I'm beginning to show a little. Actually, technically, my guts are just being smooshed up and out by my growing uterus. So the baby isn't technically what's showing, what are showing are my bulging intestines ('awwww cute, what are you going to name them?')

Speaking of names, it is a lot harder to come up with names than I thought it would be. A LOT.
I had a name I really liked for a boy, then I met a boy with that name. He was annoying and his parents were unbearable. That name's done. We've had an easier time picking a list of girl names we love than boy names. And it is here that I would like to log for future reference that The Captain believes it to be a girl. He wants EVERYONE to know, that he thinks it's a girl. And that's why we're having an easier time with girl's names. I vacillate. Totally thought it was a boy in the beginning, then one day I was SURE it was girl, now I feel like it's a boy again...

We will find out for sure at the end of February.

Pregnancy is bizarre. It seems to work outside of time, to move quickly and slowly. I can't believe I'm already in my second trimester and I can't wait for this next six months to draaaaag by.

Til Next Time, have wonderful days. We'll talk soon.

ps I can't wait to watch Winnie the Pooh with this kid.

I Don't Want to Punch A Gift Horse in the Face

I know I'm really fortunate that I didn't spend most of the the last three months hunched over a toilet, but does this stupid study by some stupid Canadians mean that since I only actually threw up twice I'm going to give birth to Forrest Gump? <\hormonal rant>

Alright, I apologize to Canadians. You're not stupid... Except for this guy



Okay, he's really just annoying.









I hate this article...

I'm what?! ....With a what?!

A baby. I am pregnant with a baby. A new human is currently residing in my uterus, growing limbs and organs and fingernails, becoming a person. I've heard its heartbeat. I've felt the heartburn.

 
When I told my dad his response was priceless. ' A human baby?! That's outrageous! This is awesome!'

Yes, a real human baby. And it IS outrageous. This whole process, it's amazing and bizarre and outrageous and miraculous.

My husband, who shall heretofore be referred to as The Captain, and I were planning on setting forth on this grand adventure right about now instead of three months ago but apparently I needed to have a Leo instead of a Virgo or (heaven forfend!) another Scorpio like me.

To begin at the beginning.

I belong to a site called PMSBuddy.com. This site allows you to input your 'cycle' information and the email addresses of family and friends that should be warned of the impending crisis and every month issues a warning email a few days in advance. I had programmed one of the warnings to come to me so I would also be reminded that I would soon start acting like a loon and why.

The reminder came and went and a couple of days later it occurred to me suddenly that NOTHING had happened.  I searched frantically through my past emails to confirm the date of the most recent one from PMSBuddy.com... Uh oh. 

Right when I got home I took a pregnancy test, one lone test left in the box from a previous suspicion a few months earlier. A faaaaint pink line materialized almost immediately, so faint... so faint. I showed The Captain and we both said 

'Nah. can't be. that line is baaarely there'.

That night, I fell asleep fairly early, but my eyes popped open around midnight and a sudden inescapable logic was waiting for me, perched at the foot of my bed, watching me sleep peacefully and smirking. (I imagine Logic looking like a wizened Hogwarts house elf....)

"That test is designed to detect levels of pregnancy hormone.” it said. “If there is no kid, there should be no hormone and no line. There cannot 'partially' be a kid. The test does not determine whether there is a faint possibility there is a baby on the way. It just detects the presence of that hormone. As the saying goes, you cannot be ‘a little pregnant’. If that line is remotely visible, that hormone is there.” As I lay there staring up through the dark, pulling a pillow over my face to avoid the eyes of the unassailable Logic, I had the first inkling that maybe…

The next day after work I bought another package of tests....and took all three... Pregnant. Pregnant. Pregnant. Not ‘kind of' pregnant, not faintly pregnant, but 'glaringly bright fuschia line with arrows pointing at it' Pregnant.

This time when I showed The Captain we both just laughed, somewhat hysterically, but ultimately happily, and then sat together quietly in a daze, contemplating the future...

That was in November.

I’ve had a relatively easy first trimester. After hearing many horror stories of incapacitating ‘morning sickness’ accompanied by serious and myriad physical discomforts, I realize how fortunate I have been. Although I will tell you, ‘Morning Sickness’ is a bullshit term anyway and I want to know who the hell came up with it. Try ‘All Damn Day Long’ sickness. Brutal waves of nausea that crash over you at any time of the day (see: during client meetings , driving home from work, in the middle of dinner) nausea so bad you wish you could puke but all you can do is sit there sweating and wait for it to pass munching dejectedly on saltines, hoping you don't retch in public. I’ve only thrown up a couple of times. But I’ve run to the nearest loo and prayed to throw up too many times to count. Merely retching just isn’t as satisfying.  

All-Day-Long-Sickness Pro Tip:  Jolly Ranchers were recommended by a friend of a friend. They worked. Seriously.

The nausea was actually not nearly as bad as the exhaustion. I was really. freaking. tired. I would fall asleep sometime between 8:30 and 9:00pm every night. And when I say 'fell asleep' I mean 'passed the fark out'. I would doze off if I sat still for too long in any one place. I pulled this particular number at Christmas Eve Dinner at my mom’s house and made the mistake of sitting down on her uber comfy fluff of a couch when I arrived. That was it. Two hours later they woke me to eat….

I'm also suffering from Baby Brain or Momnesia (it’s Science). I’ve left ball point pens in the freezer, called people and instantly forgotten why, walked into a room and out of it three times before I recalled what the purpose of going in there was in the first place. I've also, true story, gotten into a shower with underpants on.

Speaking of clothes, my pants and tops aren’t fitting. This started fairly early on top and has recently caught up on the bottom. Right before the holiday I was standing in a hallway of our office talking to one of our clients, when suddenly I felt a draft. The top button of my blouse, no longer able to take the strain, had given up and popped open. Awesome.

Another pregnancy Pro Tip: The interwebs are a dangerous place to entangle yourself when you’re pregnant. There is too much information out there and once you have it, it cannot be un-had. Be careful how deeply you delve and on which resources you rely. If I could have stopped myself from researching every damn thing floating around the web I would have, but now I’ve read about all manner of dreadful (if not actually dangerous or realistic ) things to be afraid of. It can be a little overwhelming. The Captain has to talk me down regularly.....

So, this particular post was longer than I anticipate future posts being. But I’ve had to catch you up.

And there you are… all caught up. As an aside, if you must know, I miss the Dirty Martinis most of all. That beautiful cold v-shaped glass, the beads of condensation gathering on its sides, those round, plump green olives... I will have sushi and a dirty martini in a corner of the birthing room as my focal points... that'll work. Right?