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