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?