Oh how I love the Christmas season. The tree, the decorations, browsing the holiday section of Target for hours while my Jewish husband quietly weeps in boredom. This year has been especially good because I got to decorate our new house for the first time. And I'm pregnant so when Joe asks if we really need to get stockings to hang I can say YES, which translates to YES and also shall I remind you that I'm busy creating your tiny human heir? And into the cart the stockings go.
Luckily Joe likes plants-- we've had a wide variety of potted plants all named "Planty" over the years-- so he's enjoyed having a live(ish) tree in our living room this month. Joe also inexplicably likes choosing lightbulbs (cue me weeping quietly from boredom while Joe wanders the lightbulb aisle of Lowe's) so he was able to help pick out the tree lights that best minimized the chances of me setting the house on fire.
I even tried to make the tree a little more Hannukah friendly by decking it out in blue, white and silver. Perhaps next year we'll strap a menorah to the top. Too much?
Pregnancy continues to putter along, no big changes there. After squishing around my belly recently, one of the midwives commented that although the baby is indeed lodged way up in my rib cage, he has plenty of room in there. And I was like really? Because sometimes I feel like I'm going to cough up a baby foot.
In good news, my morning sickness finally eased up sometime last month, though I've been afraid to mention it in case the pregnancy gods say, "Oh right, forgot about that! Here, puke a little more." So just keep that on the down low, okay?
My favorite pregnancy encounter happened around this time, where a stranger touched my belly and then proceeded to stare at me awkwardly and silently for several seconds. I starred back at her, bewildered. Finally she said, "I'm going to ask you a question." and I thought how nice, because I'm going to punch you in the face.
Her: Are you pregnant?
Me: Um, yes.
Her: I thought so but I couldn't tell if you were just heavy.
Excuse me, what? How many heavy people are tiny except for their WATERMELON SIZED BELLY? I'm either pregnant or have some sort of deadly medical condition. But wait! It gets better!
Her: So how far along are you?
Me: About 35 weeks now. Almost 36.
Her: So... about 6 months pregnant?
Yes, because six times four CLEARLY equals 35. Basic math skills for the win!
This trumped my former favorite pregnancy moment, when an old lady (who had previously seen me and scolded me for not having gained enough weight, TEETH GNASH) approvingly told me that I was getting "nice and fat". Just what every pregnant lady dreams of hearing!
Baby continues his comfortable stay in The Rib Cage Inn. He has pretty much been curled up in my right side the entire pregnancy and must be crushing some sort of crucial nerve connected to my right leg, as that leg frequently cramps and turns to jelly when I'm trying to exert myself too much, like say, moving in any sort of way. Joe and I were trying to book it back to the car recently when it was freezing out and I had to slow way down and hobble along instead because my leg was giving out. I'm sure I looked like a pregnant polio victim.
On the upside, traveling was marginally nicer than usual over Thanksgiving because everybody takes pity on limping pregnant ladies. Except for the TSA agents who continue to preform the most awkward full body pat downs in the history of life. "Is there anywhere sore on your body that I should know about?" (Blank stare while I gesture to my entire pregnant body) "Right, okay. I'm going to be touching your inner thighs now..." Yes, TSA agent, because everyone knows that pregnant ladies always hide their explosives in their inner thighs, magically concealed by maternity leggings. Just wait until you see where I have hidden the unicorn.
Probably the best part of a maternity photo shoot is that someone is constantly yelling at you to stick your belly out as far as possible and it feels like a compliment. I'm pleased with most of the pictures I got out of it, though the photographer was very much into having me mostly naked and draped in bed sheets. And since I want a job in the future, I thought maybe I shouldn't share those with a million strangers. You're welcome, son.
Behind on everything, as per usual. Joe and I just got back from a little vacation where we visited Joe's friend Brian in Ohio and my pal Katie in Kentucky for a couple weeks. Apparently I suck at taking pictures on vacation so you'll have to imagine my belly for weeks 31 and 32. I assure you that it was very much the same, though possibly slightly smaller since it had not yet been stuffed with vacation food. I'm looking at you, pickle flavored Pringles.
Continue to be pregnant and such. Also, two of my coworkers are also now pregnant so it appears I am slowly infecting everybody with fertility germs. It is nice to have people to commiserate with while I check the fridge for the 10th time to see if anything new has magically appeared. We mostly fantasize about bringing in bean bag chairs so we can arrange a pregnant napping station. And exchange a lot of texts along the lines of, "SO TIRED. HATE EVERYTHING."
I've officially gotten to the awkward stage of pregnancy where moving around is difficult. It is now an athletic feat for me to hoist myself out of the bathtub and bending over is my least favorite activity. I recently was curling my hair with hot rollers and dropped one while I was taking them out of my hair. As I watched it roll under the couch, I seriously considered the option of waiting two months or so to retrieve it.
Baby also seems to have reached an awkward stage where he is running out of places to go. Apparently he has already rearranged all my internal organs and has now decided that he should take up residency in my rib cage. I now rest one of my hands on the top of my belly most times and appear to be a serene pregnant lady. In reality, I am just constantly dislodging little baby feet from my ribs.
People continue to be overly comfortable approaching me about my pregnancy, including a teenage shop clerk who began quizzing me about my birth plans while I was trying to pick out a Halloween costume. Listen, braces face, your wondering aloud about how much child birth must suck is really not improving my shopping experience. I get a lot of, "Wow! You're so tiny!" and-- most annoying-- "You need to gain more weight!" This comment aggravates me the most, since my weight gain is right on track and my belly is measuring exactly where it should be. I tend to be a perfectionist so when people tell me I need to gain weight I'm like NO DAMNIT, I'M ACING THIS WHOLE WEIGHT GAIN THING. LOOK AT THE WEIGHT GAIN GRAPH I HAVE ON MY IPHONE.
In contrast, my favorite pregnancy comment from a stranger has been from my boss's little girl who saw my pregnant belly and asked me, "Do you have a tummy ache?" Adorable. And also fairly accurate.
Now I am working on Christmas-itzing the house and am looking forward to having my first real Christmas tree in our little house. Joe is not so thrilled, something about him being Jewish or something. I'm not sure, the Christmas music was drowning everything else out.
I'm going to pretend that it didn't take me 3 weeks to upload this photo, lalala. As usual, I enjoy the fact that I can chose what day it appears I posted a blog entry so I look a lot less like a slacker. So! Baby! I've tried to keep active-ish throughout my pregnancy, though obviously it has been harder in recent weeks. I did finally find a prenatal workout that I like since I find most prenatal workouts to be excruciatingly boring. I know people are trying create safe exercises and whatnot but pregnant women are capable of doing much more than sitting in a lotus position while s-l-o-w-l-y stretching, which is what I found in most prenatal routines. Also, there tends to be a lot of wind chimes and Mother Earth talk about how pregnant women are goddesses in these workouts and after about 3 minutes of that I'm ready for a nap.
Joe likes being legitimately active outdoors, in contrast to my preferred method of exercising indoors, ideally while some sort of trashy television is playing in the background to distract me. So it was not surprising when Joe recently dragged me outdoors for a "walk". My version of a walk is putting on a coat and walking around the local lake. Joe's method involves heavy duty outerwear, survival equipment and a trip up a snowy mountain. I was dressed head-to-toe in black, apparently the mountain gear color of choice, and felt like a pregnant cat burglar except, you know, a lot less agile. Joe also gave me some trekking poles to use, which are essentially like ski poles that you use to keep better balance when hiking. So I also looked like I tried to go skiing but then suffered some sort of head injury and only got half of it right. In short, the worst burglar ever. I have photographic proof of this:
Admittedly, the walk was nice and we turned around when we encountered a steep hill that looked particularly treacherous to my pregnant self. The deciding factor to skipping the hill was while we were standing contemplating the hill, I managed to trip over a root. While standing still. Good one, pregnancy balance. In conclusion, I really, really hope that some day, some person stumbles on my blog after googling the phrase "pregnant car burglar".
Do you like the churro reference? Apparently the people who
come up with the baby size comparisons became really desperate at this point
because every comparison I found was bizarre. It was a toss up between the size of a
Chinese cabbage and the length of a churro. Churro won because A) most people
don’t know what a Chinese cabbage is and B) churros are crazy delicious.
So 28 weeks marks the official beginning of the 3rd
trimester, what the what? When did that happen? Still feeling fairly good. By
that I mean I am not yet totally miserable all the time. But don’t worry, I’m
told that is coming.
Here are a few of my favorite symptoms recently:
-Baby continues to make a comfortable nest out of
my bladder but I think I’ve mastered the whole peeing 900 times before bed
thing so I don’t have to wake up in the middle of the night. Small victories.
-But don’t worry! Since I haven’t had to stumble
my way to the bathroom at 3 am recently, the pregnancy gods have decided that
it is only fair that instead I get crippling calf cramps several times a night.
-My veins have multiplied and are having parties.
No varicose leg veins that I’ve heard about, just plain ol’ more visible. It
doesn’t help that my skin is approximately the same color and transparency as
white tissue paper. They are especially terrifying after I’ve had a bath or
shower and all the vessels are dilated and extra huge. Then it really ventures
into super villain territory.
Nausea doesn’t even deserve mentioning because I’ve gotten
so used to it. I just try not to make any sudden movements in the morning and
sip on my pregnancy tea until I can stomach something bland and carb-y. As long
as that sits well I can eat pretty normally the rest of the day, even crazy
things like APPLES.
In conclusion, here’s an outtake of this week’s pregnancy
portrait, where Daisy made the mistake of wandering too close to me while I was taking pictures. She looks
so betrayed. JUST WAIT UNTIL I BUY THAT SNOWMAN KITTY COSTUME FROM TARGET,
Well, I’m behind on this blogging thing. Luckily, due to the magic of the internet, I can mark that I posted this week so it appears I have not been slacking. Always looking out for me, dear internet.
I really have no
good excuse, since Joe has been gone for the past two weeks and when that
happens I mostly sit around and watch an excessive amount of Netflix. And eat a
lot of soup, since that’s the only savory thing I make with confidence. Throw
vegetables in the soup pot! Add random shit until it tastes good! Watch five
more episodes of Supernatural! Repeat
So! Pregnancy! The downside to having a visible belly is that I’m now
experiencing the whole strangers-feel-oddly-entitled-to-talk-to-me thing.
Recently this has also expanded to the belly groping. If I know you I
understand, but if I’ve never met you or you filthy hands before please trust that
I don’t want them on me. Since I’m naturally shy and not at all touchy feely
anyway, this has been really weird and I kind of feel like I’ve in an episode
of The Twilight Zone. It fits, no? I
have an alien inside me and suddenly people are drawn to my belly like zombies.
Beginning to think baby has mind control powers.
My big pregnancy announcement this week is the somewhat
mortifying fact that at 6 1/2 months pregnant, I weigh the same as I did at my
heaviest weight in college, so more or less 15 lbs from my starting weight. The
weight I gained in college was not the typical “freshman fifteen” caused by too
much cafeteria pizza. The cafeteria could keep its shitty pizza. Rather, my weight gain can be directly
correlated to when I moved in with Joe and started eating all my meals with
Unfortunately, Joe is a great cook and I liked his cooking
far more than the cafeteria’s. Which, by the way, is not difficult when your friendly college cafeteria sets out boiled shrimp with the heads still on in the salad bar. The best part was, there was a jaunty little sign that accompanied it that proudly announced, "Locally grown!" Right, because Cleveland, Ohio is famous for its locally grown shrimp and that's not at all creepy and disgusting! It's not like your lake once caught on fire or anything. Oh wait...
Anyway, it turns out that a 5-foot girl shouldn’t eat
college-boy sized portions of risotto and garlic pasta every day. Oh, and when
you go to Hawaii with your boyfriend? You should probably not eat macadamia nut
pancakes every day. Daily fried
cake breakfasts do not go well with your bikini, Sophie.
Luckily, I got my act together pretty quickly and lost that
weight. But I must say it was a lot more fun to be this weight while happily eating
massive helpings of pasta than it is to be this weight and dry heaving when I
see a cracker. I mean, C’MON.
In other news, I’m trying to make up for my complete lack of
baby gear by reluctantly starting to read What
to Expect the First Year again. I started it, than traded it for Helter Skelter, a grisly 700-page account
of the Manson murders. Why?
BECAUSE I FOUND IT SLIGHTLY LESS TERRIFYING THAN CHAPTER 2 OF WHAT TO EXPECT THE FIRST YEAR. Which
could probably be subtitled, “You should probably just give up now. Also, how
is your anti-depressant supply?”.
I’m sure my birthing class will be just as soothing, right?
This past week was a magical week, where my belly ‘popped’ a
lot more and strangers could finally tell that I was pregnant. Possibly due to
the number of times we ate out this week, more than anything else. Regardless,
I’ll take it. At least I feel like I can wear form-fitting shirts again and
look cute and pregnant. Until now, I mostly felt I was diligently working on a
beer belly, which was not exactly confidence inspiring.
Besides belly, nothing new to report on the pregnancy front.
Still nauseated and have to pee about 400% more than usual, but haven’t had any
other new or exciting symptoms like back pain or sciatica. Also, no food
cravings, but pretty excited that it is now pear season because I love pears SO
MUCH. I actually have a problem bringing myself to eat them after I buy them because I don’t
want to “waste” them. It’s a sickness, really.
Given my obsession with fruit, I should probably live
somewhere other than Alaska, since nothing actually grows here except some
gnarly crabapples that are not fit for human consumption. At least, not humans you like very much. I remember visiting
California for the first time in my youth and thinking something along the lines
of, “Whoa whoa, you mean fruit really grows on trees? What kind of sorcery is
this?” And then I continued to suck my thumb, which eventually led my
mom to buy several luxury vehicles for my orthodontist.
And yes, according to my iPhone pregnancy app, baby was the
size of a papaya this week. I think I’ve gestated an entire fruit salad by now. I suppose I'm still working on the melon component. Wince.
Newest pregnancy developments are 1) I can now skip the
prophylactic nausea medication without guaranteeing that I will later throw up.
More nauseated without it, but still, progress! 2) Lately, baby prefers to curl
up in the right lower side of my belly, giving the impression of a right-sided
baby tumor. Alternatively I am carrying a baby cone head. Toss-up, really. 3) My
belly button is beginning to plot its escape, mischievous devil that it is.
Other pregnancy developments include my total lack of preparation
for when the baby actually arrives. I panicked and made Joe paint the nursery, and it is still absolutely empty. At least it looks cool.
Kinda hoping one of those doors opens into a nursery in Narnia. If not, I can just shove a dog bed in the corner, right? Cozy!
these days, I may actually buy something off of my baby registry. I HAVE THREE MONTHS, OKAY?
Of course when you’re pregnant everybody wants to know what
you’re craving. I’m sure my coworkers are just dying to hear that I’ve been eating
Big Macs and ice cream sundaes, since I generally eat very healthily and they
find this extremely disturbing. But apparently I do live in an alternate universe
where raw green beans and mustard is a perfectly acceptable snack.
Side note: dipping vegetables in mustard is not a pregnancy
thing either; I’ve been doing that for years. I’m just semi-obsessed with
mustard. Totally normal.
The only new craving I’ve had is for tart herbal tea blends,
most of which contain hibiscus flowers. For some reason, this tea is pretty
much the only fluid I can stomach. After I discovered this and drank gallons of
the stuff a day, I decided on a whim that I should probably Google if hibiscus
is safe for consumption during pregnancy.
This is where you scream useless protests at me, much like you would do while watching a horror movie. "NO! STOP! WHY WOULD YOU GO INTO THE HAUNTED BASEMENT ALONE? WHO DOES THAT?"
Internet consensus: probably not, and also why are you trying
to poison your unborn child? God. Damn. It.
I called my midwives, who assured me that they could care
less if I ate a basket of hibiscus flowers a day. Okay, they may have not said
exactly that, because that would be weird, but they did think it was totally
safe for me to drink my beloved tea.
I’ve since bought enormous quantities of the stuff and have
been drinking that pretty much exclusively. I even started making a juice
cocktail with it that I’ve nicknamed Sophie’s Pregnancy Tonic. So if I can just
travel back to the 1930’s and peddle it as a cure all, I’d be set.
I think the lesson here, as it always is, is DON’T GOOGLE
ANYTHING EVER WHEN YOU’RE PREGNANT. Which is of course why I continue to do it
on a daily basis.
Not very interesting but that’s my big pregnancy craving. After
I finished off yet another box last week, I announced to Joe that I was
probably going to give birth to a giant hibiscus flower. Strangely I have not
had nightmares about this yet.
I am so committed to this process that I got up and put on
pants to take my weekly belly picture. That, my friends, is called DEDICATION.
Though that took all my motivation and I can't be bothered to come up with anything else. Here's belly update and survey instead.
along? 22 Weeks
Total weight gain/loss: something like
12 or 13 lbs
few things. Definitely growing fond of elastic.
marks? No. Though I have begun to liberally grease my body is
assorted potions in attempts to avoid that.
Sleep: Sleeping well, except for the
whole peeing every 30 seconds thing.
Best moment this week:My
birthday was last week so I was generally fawned upon, which I support 100%.
Also Joe finished painting the nursery, though I can’t remember if that was
last week or not.
Miss Anything? Sushi, a normal
yes. Peapod enjoys soothing me back to sleep after my midnight bathroom breaks
by slamming repeatedly into my uterus.
cravings: Nothing unusual. Still fond of peanut butter,
fruit, cheese. And unicorn blood. Just seeing if you're paying attention.
Anything making you queasy or sick: Depends.
Things have calmed down A LOT but still am turned off a lot of time by protein,
raw vegetables… Basically anything that is not a refined carbohydrate will turn
me off at one time or another. Coffee and black tea I can’t do at all.
you started to show yet:I mean, this weight has to have collected
SOMEWHERE. There is some definite pudge action happening but that's about it.
Which begs the terrifying question, where am I storing this 12 lbs if not on my
belly? Wait, don't answer that.
Gender prediction: Unless my ultrasound
tech was on mind altering drugs, we are sticking with boy.
Labor Signs: Nay.
Can I have a surrogate just for the labor bit please?
Belly Button in or out? In.
I bought one of those hilarious pregnancy belly button rings that looks like
its made out of a flexible straw after my co-worker told me a horrific story
about how her pregnancy ripped her belly button piercing nearly completely out
but so far things are looking pretty normal.
Wedding rings on or off?Off,
though only because I developed a weird rash on my ring finger.
Happy or Moody most of the
time: Generally pretty emotionally stable. Except
when I make pie crust, which always sends me into a murderous rage.
A couple weeks ago, crazy pain in my right eye woke me up at
4 am. I tentatively pawed at that eye and found that my eye was swollen and bizarrely
leaking tears, even with the eye clamped shut. Like I was sleep-sobbing. Out of
one eye? Wait, it gets better. I stumbled to the bathroom and pried out my
contacts and my eye didn’t look too bad. I mean, it was bright red, swollen and
pathetic looking but there were no obvious giant glass shards embedded in my
eye, which is what it felt like.
I grabbed an ice pack from the freezer and fed Daisy early,
who thought this was a neat game where her owner staggered around the house in
the middle of the night with no depth perception. Eventually I was able to fall back asleep for a bit with the ice pack snuggled up against my eye and then had
soothing dreams about my eye pain, including one in which I figured out that my
eye hurt because I had somehow crammed three contact lenses into the one eye.
I really did try going to work but even when I could
tentatively force my eye open for brief, glorious moments of sight, the pain stopped dropped me to my knees about every 30 seconds or so while I went, "ARRRRRRGH." Very much
like movie supervillains do when their plans have been foiled yet again. Generally
this behavior is frowned upon in a nurse so I came to terms that work was
not going to happen.
To make matters more interesting, Joe was out of town, so I
had to drive myself around to be treated later that morning. Luckily, there is
an urgent care center about 30 seconds away from our house and I figured I
could drive myself there without killing anyone. I suppose I could have walked
there, too, but I didn’t really want to stumble along for 20 minutes while
clutching my eye and moaning. People would assume a zombie apocalypse was
starting, and then were would we be?
The doctor pretty quickly diagnosed me with a corneal ulcer,
a nice big open sore on the eye caused by sleeping with my contacts in. Good work,
Sophie. The doctor proceeded to casually mention that as a wartime doc in
Korea, he saw a corneal ulcer much like mine become so infected with Pseudomonas that the lady’s eye melted within a matter of days. He paused. “We
got her a glass eye,” he said thoughtfully, as if this were supposed to comfort
me somehow. After this I was all I’LL DO WHATEVER YOU WANT DOC, JUST DON’T LET
MY EYE MELT. So I left with a prescription for some pain relieving eye drops,
antibiotic eye drops, and a stylish eye patch. YES, PREGNANT WITH AN EYE PATCH. AND
MY EYE IS PROBABLY GOING TO MELT. THIS DAY GETS BETTER AND BETTER.
Driving to and from the pharmacy while wearing an eye patch
was probably one of the more sketchy things I have done but goddamnit, I was
getting my anti-eye melting medications. Pedestrians be damned!
So I bummed around the house with my sweet eye patch on for
the rest of the day. Eye injuries are especially lame because you can't go to
work with a leaky useless eye but also can’t really do the usual sick-at-home
things, like read or watch TV. I mean, I squinted in the general direction of
the TV in order to “watch” What’s Eating
Gilbert Grape but that’s about it. Luckily, as a pregnant lady, napping is a
favorite activity of mine, so at least I was well rested.
Thankfully, eye injuries tend to heal pretty fast so the eye
patch and mind-searing pain were short-lived. And, so far, my eye has not melted, so that’s awesome.
In other news, I am still pregnant. Baby Peapod moves enough
that Joe can now feel him, and if I watch carefully when baby is active, I can
see my belly pulsate. Very Alien-esque.
Ahem. I mean, the beautiful wonders of pregnancy, mother earth and so on. And so forth.
When we learned baby Peapod is a boy a couple weeks ago, Joe
decided that I needed some bellyphones. They're little stick on headphones that you can secure to your belly in order to pump music directly into your unsuspecting uterus. Like so:
I think the idea is kind of silly and besides, Peapod
is getting plenty of audio stimulation from such cinematic classics as Pretty
Little Liars and Buffy the Vampire Slayer. But it is kind of adorable and it
doesn’t take any effort on my part so I’m game.
Speaking of game, Joe’s playlist for developing young genius
brains has consisted of such master composers as Beethoven and Debussy and for
some reason also includes the Final Fantasy VII soundtrack. Naturally.
I’ve definitely felt the wee one more the last week. I’d
felt some flutters now and then for a couple weeks before but can now feel
actual jabs/kicks/punches. Joe can tell when it’s happening because I jump
about 10 feet in the air every time it happens. I took a couple good hits when
I used the bellyphones the first time and I suppose we will never know if they
were squirms of delight or a desperate attempt to escape from the Waltz de Chocobo.
Joe has also prepped the nursery for my striped wall scheme.
The room is barren and draped in plastic sheets and tape so it basically looks
like a kill room from Dexter. On the
bright side, there’s now a layer of primer covering the former paint color,
which was a hideous blinding blue hue. Since paints have such great names like
Dead Salmon and Tornado Watch, I would dub the former color Makes-Your-Eyes-Bleed-Blue.
By the way, how awful is picking out paint colors? It is so
needlessly complicated. I really did not care exactly which paint color to use
and suddenly you are agonizing over 10 identical shades of gray, going “AGH, I JUST DON’T
KNOW. ESKIMO KISSES OR STORMY SKIES?”
In other news, here’s my 20 week bump-date, in which I get
gradually fatter but can still pass for not pregnant. In the words of my boss,
“When are you going to start to show like a normal human being?”
Though I cheated and am really 21 weeks in this picture
because I was too lazy to take a picture any other day. I swear you didn’t miss
much in those few days. I am starting to get a bit of a bump but I still think
it appears less like I’m pregnant and more like I’ve decided to pursue a career
in competitive eating.
2 more things about that picture: 1) In case you wondering,
no, I am not wearing pants, hence the sliver of my bare thigh. Avert your children’s
eyes. I was wearing PJ short though, I promise. 2) My glasses are making a rare
appearance because I had a fun adventure last week that led to an urgent care
visit and an eye patch. Stay tuned.
At my last midwife appointment, the midwife admitted in her
soothing Australian accent that if my morning sickness had not gone away at
this point, it probably was here to stay. And thank god for the soothing,
soothing accent because it somehow didn’t sound so bad until after I had left
and thought about 20 more weeks of nausea. AND THEN I WANTED TO WRING HER PRETTY AUSTRALIAN NECK.
Just kidding, I hope she and her unnaturally calming
presence attend my birth.
Granted, morning sickness has gotten A LOT better since the
beginning but I still have to take nausea medication on a daily basis to
function. There is no doubt in my mind that without it, I would have
hyperemesis gravidium, which is fancy medical talk for pregnant and throwing up all day, every day. So bless you, Doxylamine. You’re my most favorite drug. I
shall name my first-born child after you. No, wait. Just kidding. Is this how Rumpelstiltskin
In other more endearing news, I had my 18-week ultrasound
last week, where the ultrasound tech looked into the crystal ball that is my
uterus and predicted that baby Peapod is a boy!
For some reason, the ultrasound tech gave me about 3-dozen
very exciting pictures of my placenta, which mostly looks like white noise on a
TV screen. But she did nag a couple cute profile pictures:
... and a picture of monkey-like toes:
I also have a few cool pictures of baby’s spine, where it
appears that I am giving birth to a fillet of herring or something. But I will
spare you these.
So now we can get the business of designing and painting the
nursery. And by “we” I mean “Joe”. Since I have to scrape any idea of pink
walls and sparkly chandeliers, I’ve become unreasonably attached the idea of
horizontal striped walls. Joe pointed out that this would be hard to do all by
his lonesome and we might have to fork over some money for a professional
painter. I had a brief internal battle between my cheap side that reuses
ziplock bags and my irrational pregnant side that panics when she can’t find
ice cream cones and, surprise, the pregnant monster won. WE SHALL HAVE STRIPED
WALLS, DAMNIT. And also ice cream
because I found the ice cream cones. They were under our pile of candy,
Or we could forgo a nursery altogether and just attach a baby cage to our window:
See? Don't worry people: THE CRATE CAN BE SCREENED.
Ah, early pregnancy. Still in an awkward phase in which all my clothes FIT, they just don't fit WELL. It mostly appears that I don't know how to appropriately dress myself. Which is mostly true. I'm sticking to my guns in that I do not have a baby bump yet, as that implies, you know, a BUMP. My belly sticks out a tad further, yes, but is stil mostly flat. No cute curvature. So if anything, that makes it more of a baby rhombus or baby trapezoid. One of those useless shape that no one knows what to do with.
So let's move on to some picture documentation and survey, shall we?
How far along? 17
Weeks Total weight gain/loss: around 6 lbs or so Maternity clothes? Bought a few pieces in an excited pregnant frenzy
but still wearing my normal wardrobe.
Stretch marks? Nope Sleep: I sleep like a champ. I excel in sleeping. Best moment this week: Ate some candy first thing when I woke up and wanted to die
a little less. My dentist will be pleased. Good thing I started flossing in
preparation for my teeth cleaning next week. I mean, I ALWAYS FLOSS DR. FELDMAN.
Miss Anything?Not feeling like I need to puke all the time?
Also felt cheated that I couldn’t have a mimosa on mother’s day. Nice joke, Peapod. Movement: Had some uterine cramp-y type things today, wonder if it was
Peapod busting a move. Either that or my stomach has had enough and is trying to escape my body. Food cravings: Safe foods: fruit
and fruit juice, peanut butter, toast and most other carbohydrate, cheese,
mashed potatoes.... Anything making you queasy or
sick: Anything before noon. Otherwise, most sources of protein,
my favorite black tea, eggs, raw vegetables, greasy anything, smell of coffee
or strong perfume, SHALL I GO ON? Have also not been so keen on oatmeal, cream
of wheat or chamomile tea since I threw those up in the early days. Have you started to show yet:I
will stubbornly say no. Gender prediction: Who knows. Had a dream I was having a boy but still
have hope I can buy pink sparkly things. Labor Signs: Nay Belly Button in or out? In Wedding rings on or off? On Happy or Moody most of the time: Happy. Grumpy in the mornings. I am a very efficient worker in the
mornings, sitting very still and quiet at my desk as I distract myself with as
much work as possible. Looking forward to: Morning sickness going away, feeling baby move,
getting a belly, finding out the gender in a few weeks. Etc etc.
First off, why is it that every time I open Microsoft Word,
there is a “critical update” to install? How is it that each version is just as
crappy as the last? But I digress.
Nothing new and exciting to report on the pregnancy front.
Still nauseated most of the time, no bump. Several people have told me that I’m starting to show but
seriously, I’m not. I honestly believe that now that everybody knows I’m
pregnant, people stare at my gut ALL THE TIME and a lady can’t suck it in 24-7.
Plus there’s the whole pregnant = bloated like a beached whale thing.
Luckily, I’m a nurse so I already own a maternity wardrobe.
It’s called scrubs. I feel weird when I wear pants that don’t have an elastic
waistband or tops that aren’t four times too big for me.
On the nausea front, no real change. Still feel I have some
sort of cruel stomach virus that makes you gain weight. I also attribute the
heightened sense of smell to the nausea. It’s not so much that I can smell
better, just that every smell makes me sick. I often think of an episode of
King of the Hill where Bobby is put on a Ritalin-like drug that heightens all
his senses. He sits in the kitchen, starring blankly into space. He sniffs.
“The milk in the fridge is about to go sour.” He announces. He pauses. “And
there it goes…”
In other news, I still bake. I've had to cut down since college, since I no longer have our roommate Brian to count on eating everything I make. Recently I made a plum upside down cake in order to use up a bunch of plums we got in our produce box. Joe ate it within 48 hours so pretty successful, I'd say.
1/2 cup (1 stick) plus 1 tablespoon unsalted butter, plus extra for the pan, at room temperature
4 firm, ripe plums, each cut into 8 wedges (This looked measly and I cut them into 16)
1/4 cup plus 2/3 cup granulated sugar (I cut this down to 1/3 cup and thought it was fine)
1 cup all-purpose flour
3/4 teaspoon baking powder
1/4 teaspoon baking soda
1/4 teaspoon kosher salt
1 large egg
2/3 cup sour cream (I used plain nonfat greek yogurt)
1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
Heat oven to 350° F. Butter an 8-inch cake pan and line the bottom with parchment paper.
Melt 1 tablespoon of the butter in a large skillet over medium-high heat. Add the plums and 1/4 cup of the sugar and cook, tossing, until the sugar dissolves and the juices from the plums become syrupy, 3 to 4 minutes. Arrange the plums in the cake pan in slightly overlapping concentric circles, starting from the outside. Spoon any pan juices over the top.
In a small bowl, whisk together the flour, baking powder, baking soda, and salt.
With an electric mixer, beat the remaining 1/2 cup of the butter and 2/3 cup of the sugar until fluffy. Beat in the egg, sour cream, and vanilla. Gradually add the flour mixture, mixing just until incorporated.
Pour the batter over the plums and bake until a toothpick inserted in the center comes out clean, 50 to 55 minutes. Let cool in the pan for 1 hour. Place a large plate over the cake pan and invert the cake onto the plate. ______________________________________________________________________________
In conclusion, here's a terrifying fact about Martha Stewart:
Thanks Martha Stewart! Now I know just how to welcome my bambino into the world.
Well, I was really hoping that I would magically wake up the
morning of week 13 with no morning sickness but alas, it persists. My midwife
says that hopefully it will ease up between 15-18 weeks so that’s the new light
at the end of the tunnel.
On the up side, Peapod was looking more humanoid at my 12
week ultrasound. Which means that it looks less like a gummy bear and more like
Skeletor. Progress, people. I gave Joe a high five when I read that the little
peanut should no longer have a tail at this point. Good work, baby.
Pregnancy is pretty amazing in that I’m pretty sure I’m
still eating at a calorie deficit but have somehow still managed to put on a
couple pounds. Like, where are you getting this extra stuff to store? Are you
converting my bones to fat stores? I was kind of hoping I could avoid that
pesky gaining weight part of pregnancy. Thanks, evolution.
I’m a pretty little chick and was feeling pretty okay about
my total lack of baby bump until I googled what other women look like this far
along and now I totally have a complex. Some of these women have legit cute
little bumps. And I look like I ate too many cupcakes last night, if that.
So lesson learned. Do not, I repeat, do not, google
anything. You will be totally paranoid about how your pregnancy compares to
others and then you will convince yourself that the cherries you ate half an
hour ago are going to poison you with listeria because you are a fool that
never washes fruit. Also, all the glowing pregnant ladies with cute bumps and
not a lick of nausea will send you into a murderous rage.
So don’t google stuff. Instead you should probably eat some
macaroni and cheese while watching episodes of Jersey Shore. It’s working out for me pretty well.
Everybody has been asking me if I’ve been having cravings yet
and the short answer is no. Every food makes me want to die. There are some
foods that make me want to die less, if you want to call that “cravings”.
Probably worse than food actually is any fluid, which I just can’t stomach. I
read in a pregnancy book the other idea that I should be striving for 12
glasses of water a day and I actually snorted. I consider it a great
accomplishment if I’m able to gag down 32 oz of fluid in my 9 hour work day.
Someone we work with brought in sugar free lemonade from Hot Dog on a Stick and
I was able to drain that sucker pretty good. So I’m all about lemon water and
lemonade right now. Peanut butter and fruit are other faithful standbys. But
really, these are things I was semi-obsessed with before pregnancy so who
In other news, pregnancy has made me even lamer than my
usual lame self but provides an excellent excuse to take bubble baths before
going to sleep at 8 pm. It also had made me fully appreciate the true beauty that
is Cinnamon Toast Crunch*. But let’s be honest, you don’t have to be knocked up
to realize that.
*This message was not brought to you by Cinnamon Toast
Crunch. However, I will not turn away large sums of money from General Mills if
they wish to offer it to me. Just putting that out there.
My trip to California went much better than imagined. Or
much worse, depending on how you look at it. My flying anxiety was much lower
than usual, though I think this was because I was so nauseated (a charming
combination of morning sickness and motion sickness) and sleep deprived that my
body didn’t have the energy to produce adrenaline.
We took a
couple red eyes, each flight several hours long. And despite the fact that I
was too busy drooling and chanting a mantra of DO NOT THROW UP IN PUBLIC, DO
NOT THROW UP IN PUBLIC to claw the walls off the plane as per usual, I still
couldn’t sleep a wink. Even pumped full of my usual sedatives, I normally can’t
sleep on airplanes. Every single bump, tremor or small noise makes me jump ten
feet out of my seat while I instantly imagine ten different fiery deaths. I
insist on sitting in the window seat on each flight so at the very least I can
make sure that weird buzzing noise wasn’t an engine falling off or that the
series of turbulence did not in fact dislodge a wing.
So by flight number 2, I hadn’t slept at all and was so nauseated
that I feared an Exorcist-like vomiting scenario. For the first time in years,
I searched out the little complimentary barf bags and was disturbed that they
were both miniscule and seemingly made of tissue paper. Not reassuring.
Thankfully somewhere on the second flight my body gave out and I passed out for
an hour or so, with brief moments of, “OH MY GOD WHAT WAS THAT WE ARE CERTAINLY
GOING TO DI- ZZZzzzzzz…”
And then we drove to San Francisco to visit my sister, where
I’m sure any “baby weight” I’ve gained to this point is really just a
collection of the alarming amount of pizza I ate.
While my morning sickness hasn’t gotten any better or worse
in intensity, I have been able to tolerate a wider variety of foods. Which is
to say, more than dry toast and SpaghettiOs. I’ve even eaten the occasional
vegetable! Very exciting.
Other than the nausea, I’m still fairly comfortable and feeling
pretty non-pregnant. I do get tired more easily but it also doesn’t help that
the magic nausea medication I ritualistically take is a ¼ tablet of doxylamine,
otherwise known as the over the counter sleep medication, Unisom. So obviously
it makes me sleepy, especially if I’m having a particularly bad morning and
have to re-dose in the AM. Combine that with the whole growing another human
being thing and yeah, I’m tired.
I’ve only had a few of the fabled mood swings. I think
anyway, Joe may tell you differently. I am more emotional in general and any
commercial involving a baby instantly makes my eyes well up. But any huge
emotional 180’s have been more rare. The big one that comes to mind was a
couple weeks ago on a weekend, where I suddenly became paralyzed with
depression for no apparent reason. Joe convinced me to crawl from my fetal
position on the couch to the bedroom, where I cried and then took a nap and
felt a lot better.
Anyways hoping I’ll feel a little better once the first
trimester ends, at least a little less puke-y. Please keep all your anecdotes
about women who have morning sickness their entire pregnancy to yourself, I
really don’t want to consider that a possibility and might be forced to do you
bodily harm. See? No mood swings at all.