Thursday, October 30, 2008
After all, just today I have had to: clean up the trash that she dumped in the kitchen, clean up the crayons that she ate and broke on my beautiful silk shantung duvet, wash her face and paws because she got into God-only-knows-what that made her all black and ashy all over, and took her for a walk around the neighborhood because she was in my face begging me to do so. That is just today.
She is the most annoying dog I have ever met. You tell her to sit, she will stand. Tell her to stand and she will roll over. She will eat leftover chicken off the counter with me standing not more than two feet away.
She also has the most adorable personality. If DTB and I raise our voices, she hides in the back of the closet. If we get off the couch, she will immediately jump into our spot to keep it warm. And if I cry, she runs right over, flops on top of me and licks my face. She's very cute.
Which is the reason we keep her.
And probably most new parents keep their kiddo's for the same reason. They cry, poop and throw up all over the place. Not very attractive. But, occasionally, you see a smile that makes you so happy and everything is worth it.
And, yes, I did just compare my dog to a baby. Get over it.
Wednesday, October 29, 2008
Because when DTB and I went to see him last time, DTB thought he would be such a smart ass and ask him a question during the Q & A portion of our visit.
"So, Preggo tells me that she can no longer do the dishes or laundry now that she's pregnant. Not true, eh, Dr?" and then looks at me, like 'I got you now!!'
Without skipping a beat (I swear!) Dr OB looks straight at him and says:
"She's right. And she can't make the bed, cook, or pump her own gas either. Have a great nine months."
Love this guy!
On another note:
I went to the dentist today, and found out that you have to tell them when you're pregnant because your OB has to fax over a release note so you can get your teeth cleaned. Who knew going to the dentist could warp your unborn child?! What's it gonna go - make him need braces in 10-11 years? Probably gonna happen anyway!
But I was talking to the chick at the checkout desk, and it turns out that she has an 8 month old baby boy and goes to the same OB clinic that I do! Crazy, huh - especially since its definetely not the closest one to us. She said she drives all the way across town because they were so good it was worth it. Good choice, Preggo! I feel like this was my first major decision as a Preggo and I passed it with flying colors.
Pick out a OB? Check.
Pick out a College? Check.
See. . my job here is done!! (Ok, maybe not done for at least another 7 months. . . . . . and then another 18 years. . . . . and then whenever they can't afford the plane ticket home and need me to pay off their credit card bills. . . . . . . )
Tuesday, October 28, 2008
Many people (ok, ok - really, just the grandparents-to-be) have been asking if I have a baby bulge yet. My answer? Ummm. . . I don't know.
I really don't know.
See, I could have a baby bulge right now. Or I could have an I-love-pizza-and-french-fries-alot bulge. Or an I-don't-do-100-crunches-a-day-anymore bulge. Or work-out-at-all bulge. It could be any of that.
But yesterday, the very sensitive DTB said to me 'Wow - you really look pregnant now!' while I was wearing a tight tank top. I couldn't help but think, Thanks DTB - what you really mean is that I'm starting to look a little fat.
Then I decided to change my tune. Give him the benefit of the doubt. Maybe he was so excited that I was finally starting to show a little bit. After all, I may be feeling different on the inside, but the only way he gets to experience it is from looking at the outside. And I get to look fat. No one tells a Preggo 'Wow, you're really packing on the pounds there! Time to lay off the bon-bons!'. They just say things like 'Awww. . you're really starting to show now!' or 'Your belly bump looks so cute.' So why not work it as much as possible?
I did Google Image '9 week pregnant belly' today. Just to see how mine compares to other 9 week Preggo's (although I am technically almost at 10 weeks). Surprisingly (at least to me) was how many of them were larger than I am. But every woman's body is different and every pregnancy that a woman has is different, so I really can't compare to others. But I can say this: Even if this is a pizza-french-fries-potato-chip bulge (because I have been really craving salty stuff), I am going to say its a baby bulge. What do you think???
Bad news: Usually my head is hitting the pillow about 8 pm. And that's if I had a nap, too.
I know DTB is getting sick of me saying it, but here it is again. I'm tired.
Friday, October 24, 2008
Seriously. It made sound weird but its true. In this day of online self diagnosing and excessive litigation, everything is cause for worry. Self- diagnosing you probably understand; who hasn't been on websites such as webmd to diagnose a back spasm or long-term headache (only to see that the list of diagnoses run from migraine to heart attack to MS)? But excessive litigation? Yeah. Because with all the lawyers and courtroom drama running around, there is always someone ready to sue for someone else's mistakes. So all these books that speak out on pregnancy and what to expect when you're, well, expecting have to list every single possible thing that could be potentially harmful to you. Your doctor may say you can have a glass of wine, but don't think you'll read that in a book.
So when I read that not taking prenatal vitamins in the first trimester can lead to such things as neural tube defects, I immediately went to Walgreens and bought the one I trusted the most. They were fine for the first few weeks. I took them (when DTB would remind me - I blame pregnancy brain for the forgetfulness) and all was good and well. Until three days ago, when suddenly - right after taking the vitamins - I raced to the bathroom just in time to throw up.
Good picture, huh?
Not fun, especially since I was feeling so lucky that I didn't have nausea and morning sickness. That's what I get for being cocky!
Thinking this was just a fluke, I took the prenatals again the next night. Uh oh. Same thing again. Now, once is an accident. Twice is a problem.
Then I did what any nervous Preggo does and called my doctor. After a few voicemails and missed calls, I finally talked to someone who calmed all my fears. Since alot of women have morning sickness in the first trimester anyway, they can't keep the prenatals down. And their babies turned out alright. But since the only nausea I was feeling was only when I took the vitamins, it would be best to change brands.
Even better - since I don't like taking pills of any kind (they always seem to get stuck in my throat and then I can taste them because they start to dissolve right near my taste buds and they taste nasty), I asked if chewable prenatals were available. Then I could feel kinda like I was just taking a Flintstones everyday.
Not only are they available (for prescription only), but they are 1/8 of the price of the prenatal vitamins I bought over the counter. Yes. Cheaper.
I haven't taken them yet, but I'm actually looking forward to it. If only they were in shapes like the Flinstones are, but instead of being Dino and Bam Bam, they could be a baby rattle, a bottle, maybe even a pacifier. . . . .
Tuesday, October 21, 2008
(Yes, that is my pee on the end of the stick! Ewwww!)
Then I found an old shirt and made my incredibly disagreeable dog wear it. It said 'I'm the Big Sister' (Although it looks kinda weird on her in that picture and that's because she kept running away from me and wouldn't let me straighten it. She was very unhappy with her role in this production.).
And then we went to the doctor two weeks later and found out that we're having this:
Which looks like a little alien baby, but I'm told they all look like this and he will grow out of it. Here's hoping!!!
Monday, October 20, 2008
There is a commercial with a mother in a park who has lost her child. She uses some kind of electronic child-finder to locate him (and he has a red balloon - how cute!) that only relies on Duracell batteries.
And I started crying.
Not because I was so moved by the mother finding the child, or because he once was lost but not he was found. Not because I thought how that could happen to me someday, and I was imagining the relief I would feel after he was found.
No. Not for any of that.
I was crying just because. One moment I was eating lunch and watching Desperate Housewives, and the next I was crying all over my plate. With no clue why. I wasn't sad or relieved or anxious. I was just crying.
I think that is called a hormone freak-out.
Saturday, October 18, 2008
But, I did find a cute jacket and four shirts. All for less than I spend on a burger at my favorite restaurant. Not a bad deal. And one of the shirts says 'Oh Baby' on it in sparkles. Since I couldn't find one that said 'Don't worry, it's not yours' I figured this was the next best.
Not that I will fit into them for the next four or five months, but they're still cute. So totally worth it.
See, you are going to get fat no matter what. So why delay the process with a few extra runs?
Your belly is going to expand to enourmous amounts - much bigger than the biggest bowl full of jelly you ever envisioned. Your boobs are going to become anchors on your chest; your hips and butt will widen and thicken.
Sounds appealing, doesn't it? I think this is why pregnant women get 'the glow' - so they still have something beautiful about them.
I don't care what all they say about exercising while pregnant. I think it is just a dirty joke.
- Exercising makes for an easier labor and delivery? Tell that to the millions of women who have come before me. I have never once heard one of them said that labor was easy for them. An easy labor is something you pray for, and a miracle you hope is granted to you. It can not be decided by the miles you ran and the brownies your forsake.
- Exercising can decrease the amount/severity of stretch marks? Sorry, sweetheart, but that's a big ol' lie. Much like dimples, flat feet and the ability to sniff out a 70% off shoe sale, whether or not you get stretch marks is inherited from your mom. If she got 'em, you probably will. That's just the facts.
- Exercise helps you sleep better and have more energy? First of all, the last thing I have after I run is energy. It has all been taken out of me. I want to do what I was doing before I went to exercise - sipping some juice and watching Reba, The View or Sex and the City. And the reason you sleep better is because your body is exhausted. It is practically screaming at you 'Stop working me so hard - I'm trying to make a baby here!' So, listen to it and make your only exercise the punch of the channel and volume buttons.
- Exercise gives you an all-around better feeling about yourself? I don't think so. All I'm thinking about when I'm running is 'Do I run like a duck?' and then I realize I need a bigger sports bra (or maybe I should just layer three or four) and to spray-tan my very white legs. Surprisingly, none of those things make me feel better about myself.
Most mornings (ok -if we're gonna be honest here, about two or three times a week), I take my very excitable dog for a walk. We briskly walk around the entire neighborhood, covering every inch of the two community parks and three blocks that make up our neighborhood. This takes about 15 minutes - sometimes a little more. We walk very fast, but we only walk. By the end of the 15 minutes, she is tired and wants to go home to sleep so we can do it again tomorrow. (She's very excitable, but also pretty fat and lazy!)
If I promise to take her 4+ times a week (hey, I'm a flight attendant - there's no way I could walk her everyday; I'm not even home everyday!), can I count this as 'exercise' and be done with this whole working out thing?
Thursday, October 16, 2008
Can I just tell you the sweet thing he's been doing lately without being completely sappy??
Whenever he wants a hug, he'll say, "Can I have a hug from you guys?" or "I want a hug from both of you."
Wednesday, October 15, 2008
I can eat whatever I want. Really. I eat all the nutrients I need because I really do eat pretty healthy now, but if I want that bowl of ice cream or the last remaining quesadilla - it's mine. No one gets the last bite of food but a pregnant woman.
Now that I'm completely sober, I just laugh at all the drunk people at bars. And I no longer have to worry about a DWI.
People give up their chairs to me. Even though I don't look even a little bit pregnant (except to myself and to DTB, the two people who see my body everyday and therefore can notice the slightest difference), once they find out, they immediately offer me a chair if I'm standing, or run to get me a glass of water. I try not to take advantage of this, but really - it's just too easy!
I have an excuse to run out and buy new clothes. And regardless of what you may think about maternity clothes, some of them are really cute. Granted, large bands that wrap around your belly and elastic pants are not attractive. I'm talking more about the shirts. Baby-doll, empire waist and skin tight that is designed to stretch to show off your belly - that's what I'm looking for. And I am pretty much required to buy them. Nothing else will fit!
I can sleep all day and blame it on baby. That's the best part, I think.
Monday, October 13, 2008
See, the whole process lasts 40 weeks. If you multiply 40 by 7 (the number of days in a week), you get 280. Then divide 280 by 30 (the average number of days in a month), you get 9 and 1/3. That's right, more than 9 months.
The only saving grace in this whole counting nonsense is that the starting point for counting doesn't make much sense either, so it really is 9 months from the moment you find out, but its not really 9 months from the moment they start counting. If you're not incredibly bored with this incredibly mathematical post by now, keep reading and I will enlighten you.
The medical world begins the countdown-for-baby on the first day of the woman's last period. Not at when I think would be the most logical day, which is the date of conception. (Which, crazily enough, I was able to determine with an online test! Much like I figured out What '80's movie I most resemble and What kind of flower am I.) No, they begin counting before the sperm has even left the body of the man, before the baby is even a tiny little zygote and before the woman has gotten past mind-numbing cramps and an insane urge for peanut butter M&M's. They begin counting down the pregnancy before the law, and the church, even deems it a baby.
Watch out, ladies. If you just started your period, this could be the first day of your countdown! (Scary, isn't it?!?)
No hot tubs. Or hot baths. If I absolutely have to take a bath (Which I do -I'm addicted to the ultimate relaxation), then I must take it lukewarm or just a tad hot. Apparently anything hotter than that will curdle the milk. Or boil the baby. Something like that.
Also, no cheeses that I like. No blue cheese. No gorgonzola. No feta or goat cheese. These are all unpasteurized and can contain bacteria. Unfortunately, those are all the best tasting cheeses, so I'm out of luck. Usually I am a huge cheese person, so I would just put up with American and Cheddar for the next few months, but the only thing that really seems to be turning me off is normal cheeses. No Cheddar and no American for me anymore. Just the sight of it makes me all queasy.
Friday, October 10, 2008
So, nine months (more if breast-feeding) without alcohol, I can handle. No smoking? No problem. No illegal drugs, I can handle.
I cannot handle the no caffeine rule.
Now, granted, it is more of a suggestion than a rule. Limit yourself, all the doctors say. Caution against using, say the books.
I say screw you; I can't wake up without coffee. (It is so bad, in fact, that BB -Big Brother - bought a coffee maker before I came to see him the last time. I made such a stink over not having coffee in the morning. He says it was for his fiancee, but I know it was for me. ) And I can't get through a 12 hour day at work where I had to wake up at 3 am, without coffee or Dt Coke or all of the above. I'll still drink the requisite 400 gallons of water a day and go to the bathroom every three minutes. But I'll drink the coffee, too. That is the way I function.
Also, even though it is beautiful weather right now, and perfect for being outside, I can't ride a motorcycle. Apparently, the female body is not made to shake and bake. Nor can I ride any roller coasters, go skiing (dammit!) or take any non-tylenol drugs. Tylenol ones are ok in the first trimester; others are not.
The list goes on, but these are the ones I am most upset about. It's been a while since I rode on the back of DTB's motorcycle and I really miss it. But I guess nine months isn't the end of the world. And with the bozanga's the way they are right now, even running gives me a black eye. A bike ride would be even worse.
Monday, October 6, 2008
And, they confirmed it - we're gonna have a baby!
I even got an ultrasound today. Saw Bjorn. He (she/it) is about 5 mm long. And weighs practically nothing (Which means those 7 pounds I've put on in the last three weeks are all me. Dammit!). But he has a heartbeat - a strong whoosing heartbeat like a dishwasher or a washing machine (Please tell me I'm not domesticated, but what else can you think of that whooshes that way??). You know - whoosh. Whoosh.
Oh, shit. I think this means we're gonna be parents.
What do I do now????
Thursday, October 2, 2008
All day long today I have wanted salt. French fries. Potato chips. Salt.
But I have been too lazy and tired to get off my butt to go get me some. And DTB is working late tonight, so he was out of the question.
So I finally got my shit together and started my errands. First stop: a birthday present for my brother. Didn't get it at the first place, and was on my way to the second when I passed a McDonald's. Yummy. . . . . fries.
I stopped. Large fries on the way. Yay SALT!
This is when I stopped being Preggo and became Psycho-Preggo. I crammed those fries into my mouth so fast, I had to breathe out of my nose for the next ten minutes. Again, yay for salt!
Then I got the bright idea that if I was stopped at a red light, I could slather my fries in ketchup. That wouldn't be too unsafe, right? After all, I was stopped. And that led to eating while driving and that led to. . .
ketchup on my white pants, my green top and in my hair. Yes, in my hair.
That was when I called it a day and went home. Tomorrow I'll look for Brother's birthday present.
Since her head is going to be stuck in a toilet for the next few months, clean them.
Yes. Grab a brush and some cleaning solution. It is not that hard. People have been doing it for decades, and no one has gotten hurt. Go ahead. Squirt, rub and clean.
Trust me. It makes her throw up even worse (yes that is possible!) when she spots skidmarks on the back of the bowl or turdlets floating in the water. Clean the toilet. Keep it as clean as possible.
Oh, and when she sees that gross stuff in the toilet bowl, it also makes her mad at you. Whether it's yours or not. But she knows you see it too, and could clean it up very easily. And you don't throw up at the sight of a gallon of milk. So just do it.
So I cannot be making this up, or using this as an excuse.
I am tired.
Last night I went to bed a little after 9 pm. I woke up at 1:45 am when DTB came to bed. Then again at 5:15 am when his alarm went off. Got up for a few minutes at 6:30 when he left. Went back to bed until 7:30 when The Bane of My Existence (my dog) knocked over the trashcan and ate everything out of it. Smacked her, cleaned up and went back to bed. Woke up about 9 am, ready to start the day. I didn't feel well, so I went back to bed about 11 and woke up at 12:30.
In other words, my entire day so far was spent sleeping.
Is this a problem? Am I going to be punished for this by never being able to sleep again once the baby is born? I am tired. All the books say I am going to be bone tired for the first three months, as my body has to figure out how to use its energy and grow this new person. But this tired? This is crazy!
I think I'm gonna go to bed and think about it.
Wednesday, October 1, 2008
First of all, I am (I think, since I haven't had my first prenatal visit yet to confirm) 6 weeks pregnant. Maybe even 7. Not quite sure.
And, according to all these books, I should not be showing yet. In fact, I should not be able to tell much of a difference at all.
Instead, I swear my stomach is about three times as big as it normally is and my boobs - don't even get me started! They now have their own zip code. I know all the books say that it is just bloat, but it can't be. I quit drinking cokes and carbonated beverages, so shouldn't my bloat be going down? Sigh. . . I can't be showing yet- I can't afford those cute maternity clothes yet! And I'm not even very sure how to buy maternity clothes. If I'm a medium now, does that mean I buy a medium for later, too? I want to buy some of the stuff on sale since I'll be at my heaviest in summer and now is when all the summer stuff is on sale.
On another note, I found a book for DTB. It's called My Boys Can Swim. Hee hee. And for myself? Jenny McCarthy's book Belly Laughs, The Girlfriends Guide to Pregnancy and Fit Pregnancy for Dummies.
I think I'm ready for my first visit!