Via

Stealth cat!

24 Weeks! Fetal Viability! I win! 

I feel like I am getting boring. Pregnancy is still going well. I feel good most of the time, I'm big but not huge. No complications. Etc., etc. I did pull a muscle in my ass, but I'm pretty sure that's just an unrelated annoyance. I don't really have anything else to say about that. Sometimes heartburn wakes me up in the middle of the night and I can't get back to sleep and sometimes it's hard to get up out of a squatting position, and sometimes baby boy kicks me in the cervix, but I think if that's the worst of it, I'm doing pretty great. Still  no stretch marks or swollen ankles or any of that superficial nonsense. I almost feel like I am being cheated out of those experiences, but I suppose I should count my blessings. That said, I can't believe how time is flying. I can't believe it's almost April. I can't believe I'm going to have a baby in less than four months! 

In a couple of weeks we are flying out to Ohio to visit Kyle's friends and family. I am actually quite excited. His family is so awesomely excited for us, so I can't wait to see them all in person for the first time since I've been pregnant. Baby boy will be the first great-grandchild on both sides of his family, so this is, I guess, a really big deal. And there hasn't been a baby in his family for about 6 years now, which for them is a pretty long stretch.  So, yay! In the past I've been a little irritated that so many of our "vacations" end up being to Ohio, since we typically can't afford to take the time off of work/buy plane tickets for more than one destination every year, but right now I want to be surrounded by family and just hang out, which is exactly what I will get to do.

However, Ohio coming up means that baby shower the first is also coming up, and for some reason I am inordinately anxious about baby showers. But I'm all worried that everyone will hate my registry or that all I will get is a metric ton of diapers, even though I want to use cloth, or every single piece of clothing I receive will say some nonsense about how baby is "cute like mommy" and I still won't have any of the things that I actually need like a car seat and a breast pump and ACK! I guess I can't really get upset about those things, even if they all do happen, since I can't demand that anyone buy me a crib or a stroller or whatever, but baby stuff makes me crazy. I'm starting to worry about how in the world we're going to pay for everything, and how much this birth is going to cost, and what are we thinking(!!!) again. I know we'll work it out because we'll have to work it out, but I can't stop myself from regularly hyperventilating about it. Oh well.

Ok. I don't really have anything to tidily wrap up this entry. The end.

Body Talk

Lately I can't get over just how freaking cool the human body is. Specifically the female human body. Specifically specifically MINE. As strange and new as all of the changes of pregnancy are to me, my body makes them so easily and naturally. It is so crazy that this body of mine is all of the sudden bigger and rounder and I can't believe it, but at the same time, I am so comfortable it in.

I have spent a lot of time lately staring at myself in the mirror. Well, I always spend a lot of time staring at myself in the mirror; put a shiny surface near me, I will gaze into it. Always have, always will. But lately this has not been the sort of overly vain navel-gazing that I often partake in. This is pure scientific fascination; it just happens to be with my own form. But really. HOW COOL.  How cool that my body just does this without me having to know what to do.

I'm especially interested in my breasts lately. Besides being small, they've always been, well, immature looking to me.  I had tiny, flat nipples. But lately, holy cow! I'm still not enormous or anything (I upgraded to a B-cup), but they are so much more womanly. My nipples have become larger and more prominent. They look like they mean business. It makes me feel so much more confident about breastfeeding. HOW COOL.

Anyway, me me me, I I I, that is all.

Dear Baby

Dear Baby,

Daddy was able to feel you moving for the first time last night! You've definitely been kicking strongly enough for a while now, but you seems to quiet down every time he puts his hands on my belly. I think maybe you find his touch calming. He has big strong hands, so it's possible.

You kept me up most of the night with your kicking. You are very active these days, and I feel you all the time. As frustrating as it is not to be able to fall asleep, I still love it. I love the constant reminder that you're here with me. I am always thinking about you and talking to you. I hope you can hear me!

You are getting so big! You and me both. I keep being surprised on almost a daily basis by how quickly things are changing, and how fast we are growing. I'm glad that I can see your presence from the outside now, since we won't be able to peek inside again.

I am doing my best to prepare for your arrival. You now have your very own drawer in my dresser, and I am starting to fill out your wardrobe. You are going to be a very well-dressed little boy. Daddy and I got another car, one that is bigger and safer and warmer for you. Next we are going to figure out who is going to take care of you while we go to work. I will miss you when I am working, but I know you will only benefit from having even more people to love you.

Our friends and family are really excited for your arrival, too. Many parties are being planned in your honor, to help  get ready to welcome you to the world. And next month we are all going to Ohio to visit your grandparents and great-grandparents and assorted aunts and uncles and cousins who are all oh-so-excited about you. You will be the very first born of your generation! We will take you there again once you're on the outside, too, so that you can meet everyone face to face.

I can't wait for July and for you to be here! I love you!

Love, Mommy

Week 23

Yesterday was 23 weeks. Yesterday was also my mother's birthday. I spent a very exciting evening with her eating finger foods and doing a puzzle. Not exactly heavy lifting, you know. But then when I got home I was having these horrible cramps. I thought maybe Braxton Hicks? But the hurt, like menstrual cramps, and Dr. Google diagnosed that as BAD NEWS. So I freaked out, obviously.

I called Kyle to COME HOME NOW from wherever he was out with friends because I couldn't handle it on my own at all. I couldn't be sure if it was okay to be worried or if I was being an insane paranoid hypochondriac or what. He was hesitant that I needed him, but when I started sobbing he said he was heading home.

I curled up in bed and cried. Curling up in bed helped with the pain, like it always has with my period, and by the time Kyle got home it had stopped. But I was still a mess and I wasn't sure if I should call and wake someone up in the middle of the night or not but how would I live with myself if anything happened? Kyle called the on call midwife for me and we decided things were probably okay if the cramping had subsided, and to keep an eye on things. But even after being reassured I just could not stop crying.

Today I felt much better after getting a full night's rest, so I went to the zoo with my mom as we had previously planned. We had a good trip. I love the zoo. I hope baby boy will love the zoo, too. Certainly we'll take him there often. But as the day progressed I started getting antsy again, because I hadn't felt him move all day. I wouldn't have been so worried under normal circumstances, but after the cramping episode last night... well I couldn't get it out of my head.

I ended up going to see my midwives after their last appointment of the day. Everything is peachy keen of course, and I'm feeling slightly stupid for being so worried, but I was SO. WORRIED. And while I'm no longer fearing any present danger, I can't shake this cloud that's hanging over me. I just don't know what I would do if something happened. It makes me feel physically ill.

I can't imagine this will get any easier once he is on the outside.

Cute and Tiny

This post will probably seem highly superficial, but for whatever reason this is really important to me: tiny baby stuffs. I've definitely passed some sort of milestone regarding bitty cotton things to clothe my son.

Things were starting to pile up. Gifts, mostly. I had no place for them. So there was a bag on my desk, some stuff on my dresser, a couple things in my underwear drawer, more in an otherwise empty suitcase in the hallway. I was starting to feel overwhelmed.

But I also wasn't yet feeling ready to deal with all the stuff. I don't think I had quite yet come to terms with the fact that in a few short months I'm going to have to be dressing a real live infant. Holy crap. Every time I would look at little sleepers and onsies at the store I would think to myself, "I don't need that." Yeah, pretty sure the exact opposite is true. And yes, I myself have purchased a few things, but impractical stuffs like twee motorcycle sweaters, more for myself than for actually clothing a tiny human.

Things clicked recently. I made the decision a while ago to avoid buying clothes in general because I know we'll be receiving a boat load of gifts, but I let myself go a little crazy, because it was the first time I was really ready to. A five pack of bodysuits helps me come to terms with motherhood, and yes that's silly, but it is what it is, and when I made these recent purchases I felt so much better about things.

However, in adding more stuff to my collection I think I reached my breaking point. Operation Organize had to go into effect. Step one was putting away all of my pre-pregnancy clothes. Talk about depressing. I have one half-filled drawer and a tiny fraction of my closet worth of clothing left. But it is what it is. Newly emptied dresser now has plenty of room for all this nonsense, so it is no longer cluttering up every room of my house or in danger of getting eaten/barfed on by a cat.

And I had a lot of silly hormonal fun going through all my tiny things!

Bunny slippers with rattles in the toes!

French dishes from my sister!

Itty bitty socks!

And now that everything is in one place I can pull things out and sigh to my little heart's desire. So basically, all the time. 

My drawer is surprisingly full already, though. I've got my first of at least four (four!) baby showers coming up in less than a month, and my mom's neighbor has a bunch of hand-me-downs for me to pick up. My mother specifically told me that said hand-me-down batch include two overalls. Because she knows how much I love tiny overalls. Overalls!  But yeah, we're going to have to find a better storage solution very soon.

OOPS!

Well, I went and took my 22 week picture and I was sure I made a lovely blog post about it, and then I come check here and oh. No. I didn't do that at all. Pregnancy brain, maybe? Well, here it is:

Now that I'm over being sick, things are awesome. My belly is quite literally bigger every day, and the most common reaction people have when they see me is OH MY GOD! Even if it's only been a couple days. I think that's a good sign. I'm definitely beyond looking like I might possibly just have a beer belly, and strangers (my customers) comment all the time, but so far only in a really nice complimentary or helpful way, and I haven't yet been the object of any undesired belly-rubs. Good good. I'm finally filling out my maternity clothing, and I'm feeling much more fashionable again. I am a little worried that nothing is going to fit in another month if everything is fitting now, especially if my belly keeps exploding at its current rate, but if so, oh well, we'll do more shopping.

I have quite a bit more on my mind that I'd like to get out here, but I'm still trying to compose my thoughts, but didn't want to leave forever between posts, so updates soon!

Week 21

Picture is not so fabulous today, because I'm still not feeling 100%, but whatever. The belly is... significant. It's been coming out of nowhere I feel like. I don't know why this is so surprising, but whenever I look in the mirror I'm like WHAT? Where did that come from! Maybe I will get used to it eventually.

I mentioned briefly in my last post that my navel is already doing freaky things. I feel like it's a little early for that sort of thing, but maybe since I have an outie already I get a head start? It hasn't completed it's outward journey yet, but it's starting to make a little progress, and my skin there feels very soft and... I don't know how to really describe it, except that it isn't how it normally is.

I really can't wait for Kyle to be able to feel the baby kicking. He laughs at me, because every time I feel a kick I will say something like "hello there!" I can't help it, but he thinks it's ridiculous, probably because it's so often and it's been going on for long enough that you would think it wouldn't be so novel anymore, but! Baby kicks! Amazing! Hello!

Today I bought tiny socks and yoga pants that actually fit, so even though I'm still sick I feel like it's been a success.

achoo.

So I was doing all fabulous and everything when I got hit with a motherfucker of a cold. They weren't kidding when they said this shit hits you harder in pregnancy. I spent all of yesterday and Sunday in bed. Eating chicken soup and drinking gatorade. I tried a goddamn neti pot I was so desperate. (It was effective, but disgusting.) This is serious business.

I'm glad I took it easy, something I rarely seem to do when I am sick, because I felt much better this morning. Good thing, as I had a midwife appointment. Standard. I am the most boring and uncomplicated patient ever, so my appointments are boring and uncomplicated, but I guess that's a good thing. I finally did gain some weight, though and I am officially on the plus side for the first time this pregnancy. Four pounds! Go me! They also had a little trouble finding my fundus because apparently my abs are so "rock hard." Hilarious and awesome at the same time.

However, it seems that the exertion of driving out to a belly-poking and helping my mother pick out a pair of glasses and eating a bagel was too much for me, because by the time I got home this afternoon I started feeling like I should probably lay down immediately. I did, as I am actually learning to listen to my body (hurray!), but at some point I had to run to the bathroom to vomit. Violently. Good grief. Clearly this is no longer morning sickness, and more likely just related to post-nasal drip, but really, I have barfed more than enough this pregnancy, thank-you-very-much.

The good news is that even though I've been sick, my appetite seems not to be suffering at all. Although all I want to eat lately is chocolate cake. I'm pretty sure you're supposed to crave food with actual nutrients in it, but what do I know.  I'm sure once this cold passes I'll be back to pregnancy-is-awesome-land. I could do without the freaky things that are happening to my navel, though.

Dizzy in the Noodle

So I kind of feel like Lesley Ann Warren as Cinderella in the 1965 made-for-TV Rodgers & Hammerstein production when everyone is home from the ball and she is waxing poetic to her step-sisters about how wonderful it all is. "What all is?" asks her step-mother.

This pregnancy thing is freaking amazing as all get out, I tell you. I keep writing these posts about how OMG, you guys, the baby is kicking FOR REAL this time! And then two days later I'm feeling like I should tell you more about these kicks because they are so much freaking better today than they were last time I posted you have got to try this!!

So at the risk of sounding like a broken record, omigoodness, I just love feeling him moving around. I'm feeling it all the time now, not just when I don't have other things to distract me, and it's more often than not real, discrete kicks instead of some vague wiggly feeling in my gut and holy cow I am in love.

The store I used to work at had kids and baby departments, but it was in the middle of downtown Seattle, and as such most people didn't bring their kids on shopping trips. Sure, there was always a munchkin or two, but nothing crazy. Certainly they were always outnumbered by mannequins. My new store is in a very family friendly suburban mall and out store is outfitted with a coloring table for the little ones and there is a parade of adorable (and sometimes appallingly behaved) children that come through our doors. Lately I've been watching the little boys. I'm going to have a son. I've never really imagined myself as a mother to a boy. A spitfire tomboy girl maybe, but for whatever reason, my imagination just didn't go there. So now I catch myself studying them. Will he be like that? Can I handle that? What have I gotten myself into?

But it always comes back to how wonderful it all is!

Obligatory 20 Weeks Post

I ought to have posted this yesterday when I was in fact exactly 20 weeks pregnant, but I was busy doing other stuff and then all of the sudden  it wasn't yesterday anymore, so oh well. Anyway, half way point, yay, etc.

And so it begins...

Hello blogfriends.


Things are awesome. I am definitely in the good part of pregnancy. I mostly feel great, except for a little backache or leg cramp here and there. My energy is back up, and barfing seems to think of the past (knock on wood). I get heartburn at night when I lay down, but it's not severe, and mostly just ends up serving as a reminder that hey! there's a baby in there.


Speaking of, tonight baby kicks just got real.  I mean, they were there before and everything, but in that sort of demented goldfish bumping into walls and kind of vague movementy feelings kind of way. Now I'm feeling real, discrete kicks.


Last night Kyle came home bearing a bag of baby presents. The mother of one of the kids he coaches sent it home with him. Tons and tons of stuff, omigosh! Elephant print onesies! Sleepers with turtles! TINY PLAID OVERALLS! So many things. I think that was the most fun I've ever had opening presents ever. Oh, the generosity of strangers. Unbelievable. I've never even met this woman!


Having actual baby stuff meant for my very own baby makes this feel another level of real. I spent a little time last night imagining my son (OMG! My son!) in tiny plaid overalls and it was lovely. Now that he's a he and he has clothes and he has a name and he kicks me in the stomach I'm just filled with JOY, however cliché that might be. It's definitely the best descriptor for the feeling.


My project for this week, then, is to actually find a home for all this baby gear that is assembling in my home. It's everywhere! In bags in my bedroom, on my desk, in my dresser. In a suitcase in the hallway. Crazy. I probably should have been expecting stuff to start showing up, but wow. I feel like there's tons of it already.

It's a...

BOY!

(Perhaps I shouldn't have posted that picture here, but oh well.) Yes, he's a him. Very unsurprising results, as everyone we know guessed that's what we were having. I felt like he was a boy early on, but as we got closer to finding out I felt less certain. But now we know. And, as you can see from the picture, we pretty darn sure.

I feel great. Honestly, I had no real preference, besides some superficial nonsense, but those things fell on both sides anyway. I can't say I was surprised, though. Yesterday when we found out I felt a little down, not because of the results, but just because I feel like everything is going by so quickly and I don't feel ready to be a parent yet and have him on the outside, and every milestone we pass reminds me how fleeting this time is.

Today I feel much better. I've had a chance to sit a while with the new normal, and knowing this, and BABY BOY I LOVE YOU! He has a pronoun and a NAME and we saw all of his fingers and toes and just wow. The doctor said he looks absolutely perfect, and all of his bone measurements were coming out a couple days to a week ahead. They said he weighs 10 ounces (plus or minus two), and my weekly email said he should be about 8.5, so he's clearly a healthy kid. And, goodness! The fingers and toes!

I'm getting bigger, too. My bella band is starting to not quite cut it, and I'm really going to need to invest in some maternity jeans soon. I was hoping to avoid maternity pants altogether, but clearly that was a pipe dream. I have picked up some more pieces, though, so I don't feel like getting dressed every morning is the hardest thing I've ever had to do any more, but I'm still not quite to a working wardrobe.

19 Weeks

I'm also getting tired of everyone telling me how small I am or how I barely have a belly. I know I am small. I started out little, of course I'm not going to be huge now. But I'm certainly very much bigger than I was 15 weeks ago when I took my first belly photo, and I'm the perfect size for where I am in my pregnancy. I would love for this to be acknowledged. I guess soon enough everyone will being telling me how huge I am and OMG what do you mean you have another two months left!? and that will irritate me too.

Kyle is of course thrilled to be having a son. He was definitely prepared for the possibility of a girl, and wouldn't have been disappointed or anything, but he certainly feels more confident about being father to a boy. He's been so excited to tell everyone, and it's the first time he's really been shouting from the rooftops about any of that, and it makes me so happy to see.

21 weeks until we meet our perfect adorable son. OMG!

P.S. 18 weeks!

Hey party people! I have not forgotten you; I'm just in the middle of a very busy several weeks at work. It's been the good kind of busy, too. Yeah, my stress level has been a little higher than normal, but nothing I can't handle, and I've gotten to do work on my favorite kind of projects. I've been working really hard, but I've also been accomplishing a lot, and I'm really proud of everything I've done, blah blah blah talky-speak. But seriously, it's nice to be in a place where I have things like job-satisfaction and a career path and what have you, when I'm facing becoming a working mother.

I think working will be good for me, anyway. I need the outside imposed structure to my days to not spiral into a black hole of lazy and depressed, and I think that I would go nuts without the adult interaction, not to mention the self-esteem implications of defining myself as things other than just a mother. But it's also nice to feel like I am getting to a point where I have the support to be great at what I do, so that I will be valued enough for them to be flexible to my needs as a parent. Or at least that's what I hope. I feel pretty confident. For today.

Fishy

Dear Baby,

Hello in there. These past few days have been amazing, because I'm starting to be able to feel you move around inside me! I've been hoping it would happen for a few weeks now, and I'd spent a lot of time concentrating on my belly, but I wasn't feeling anything. I've read that it should feel like butterflies or maybe like bubbles popping, but I didn't feel anything at all. But then the other night something was different. It wasn't butterflies or bubbles, but it definitely was you! I think I can most accurately describe it as feeling like a tiny goldfish was swimming around in there. And I guess that makes more sense that insects anyway, since my uterus is an aqueous environment and all.

Anyhow, little fishy, can I just tell you how much I love you? Every new milestone we hit overwhelms me with more love than I thought was possible for someone I haven't even really met before. Next week we have another ultrasound, and we'll get to see you again and find out if you're a him or a her. I will love you no matter what, but I'm really excited to know any thing more about you that I can, and to see your perfect tiny little face and hands and feet.

I feel like the weeks are going by so quickly, and you'll be here sooner than I can imagine. I'm excited to finally hold you in my arms, but I know that I will also miss this time that I am holding you inside me. I love you.

Love, Mommy

b r e a t h e

I. Am. Panicking.

Seriously. What in the hell do we think we are doing, having a baby? We don't even have a savings account! (Well, actually we have three, but they collectively hold approximately twenty five dollars.) We're going to lose the baby under piles of laundry and cat hair and also possibly cat vomit. I mean, really. We are not grownups. And where the hell are we going to live? Pay no mind that our lease isn't even up until August (AFTER THE BABY IS SUPPOSED TO ARRIVE), and there's no way we can afford to cut out of our lease early. But like, we can't have a baby and no dishwasher and no laundry, what with the aforementioned piles of dirty clothing. But (see above re: savings account) it's not like we can afford anywhere better. Or anywhere better than a cardboard box once approximately 110% of my salary is going to daycare. And who doesn't get important adult things like a house before they have a baby? Who has a baby in a crappy rental apartment? Who? What first grader is going to invite their friends back to this piece of shit "home"? OMG, first grade? School? Should we start worrying about school districts and whether or not the local elementary is total ass? Because obviously we're not going to be able to afford private school! Why in the world did I have to be so incredibly selfish and do this NOWNOWNOW when clearly that was a terrible idea?

I know most of this is probably just pregnancy hormones and lack of good sleep and totally normal and everything, and that we'll hopefully figure out a way to make things work, but all these things are real worries for me. I mean we decided years ago that we needed a new couch and a new coffee table, and we still haven't managed to be in a financial position to make such a purchase, and the whole pregnancy/childbirth/baby thing is already going to cost us a lot of money that we don't have so I guess the baby is going to have to hang out on our disgusting old couch. At least baby won't be able to bump his or her head on any coffee corner tables, because we don't have one at all. I don't know. I think I really just need to cry and flip out and have Kyle hold me a reassure me and tell me everything is going to be all right, but as much as I love him, he's really not that kind of man, and doesn't understand this. He tells me it's going to be okay, but not in any way that makes me believe him or even really considered that these things might in fact be problems or that I'm not completely insane, and maybe hopefully I am but I really don't think so.

I already love this stupid little thing so much and I don't know how I'm going to be good enough.

Where the hell did my butt go?

So, I think I'm feeling the second trimester awesomeness now. I don't feel like barfing, but I'm not huge and unwieldy yet. My appetite is back, thank goodness, and most things taste pretty good. I'm finally starting to look sorta kinda maybe pregnant, although I'd be happier if I didn't also sorta kinda maybe look like I have a beer belly. However, I still have to pee all the damn time, or possibly even more often, even though the internet said my bladder should calm down, and I'm still so freaking tired and need like fourteen hours of sleep a night to feel well rested, and that happens pretty much never, so yeah. But still, pretty good.

I also hear (well, read) that I should be able to feel baby move soon, but I haven't quite been able to will that to happen yet. I spend a lot of time concentrating on my abdomen and trying to feel it, but I don't think it works that way. I am trying to be patient, and I think I'm doing as good a job as can be expected, you know, for perhaps the most momentous thing so far, but it's haaaaaaard.

Tuesday brought another prenatal appointment, so now I have met all three of the midwives at my practice. I do have a favorite, but I am happy with them all, which is good, since you don't really get to pick who will be on call when you go into labor. I brought my mother with me to see the birth center, and she was happy. I gained back four of the five and a half pounds I lost, and my uterus is in the right place, blah blah blah normal perfect wonderful. I feel like we should be doing more at these visits, but when you're pretty much complication free there's not much to do. I probably shouldn't complain about that.

 

As of Wednesday we're at seventeen weeks. No pictures of my cute outfit, because I forgot to take pictures until I got home from yoga. However, as cute as outfit was, it was made up entirely of pre-pregnancy clothing, and as such, was only cute when I was standing perfectly still. Once I moved at all everything rode up or fell down or just generally looked awkward and askew and I spent all day readjusting everything and it sucked. I have now acquired a few maternity pieces, but nothing even close to a functional wardrobe, and I really need to get on it. Beyond being impractical and annoying, things are getting downright uncomfortable, and perhaps worse, unflattering, and ugh. Shopping shopping shopping. 

As much as I love shopping, I don't really spend all that much money on clothing. I mean, I do, but not all at once. In general, I buy stuff that has longevity, and I wear my clothes for years, until long past when I should probably get rid of them, so having to buy a lot of stuff all at once, that I can't even wear for very long is super difficult for me. I guess I just have to get over it, though.

We now have our appointment for our next ultrasound, where we'll find out if baby is a he or a she. I've thought about it long and hard,  and I really, truly have no preference, but still I'm really excited to KNOW anything more that we can know about baby. I'm excited for it to stop be an IT. We've been working on names, and I think knowing more about who we're naming is going to make it so much easier to talk about. And I just can't wait to see baby again, because OMG! BABY!

Speed Racer

Um...this is all happening really fast.


A coworker from my old store made the above as a comment on my belly picture from last week when I posted it on my Facebook. No kidding. It's February, guys! I could have a baby in as little as five months from now. I will be a MOTHER. What the fucking hell? (Perhaps I should try and learn how to swear less in the next five months.)

I am still having moments of "holy crap I'm having a baby!" Last night I couldn't sleep. I am going to be somebody's parent. Seriously? Am I ready for this? Am I even old enough for this? I want my mommy.

I'm sure this is all perfectly normal and everything, but still. Scary. Very scary.

Sixteen

Little Belly!

As of yesterday, we've made it to sixteen weeks. I'm not really counting the days so much anymore; the weeks are all starting to run together. July 13th feels like it's right around the corner, and there's so much to do! One thing I'm not loving about pregnancy is that there is always some decision to panic about. And boy do I panic. Because every decision is also the most important one I've ever had to make. This is MY BABY we're talking about. It's not like buying a new pair of shoes or getting a hair cut, or really anything I've ever had to do before, and the (mostly self-imposed) pressure of the decisions mixed with pregnancy hormones and my already overly neurotic nature is running me ragged. I cry a lot. Kyle plays the good husband and tells me everything will be fine, but honestly, I don't want to hear that everything will be fine unless that statement is accompanied with information proving it to be true.

The other day I was chatting with BFF (she is pregnant too, a couple weeks behind me, but shh, don't tell), and she mentioned that she had registered for her child birth class recently. Wait, what? Already? Oh yes, she says. Her midwife asked her what class she was taking at her 12 week appointment and that apparently got her going on it. What? At  MY 12 week appointment, with that very same midwife, I expressed concern (i.e. freaked out), about not getting things (birth classes, pediatrician picking, etc.) done on time, and she assured me that they would let me know at each appointment what I should be working on. Or not, I guess. So I start looking. The teacher most highly recommended by my birth center... well her class is already full. Shit. In the end we found a class that we are happy with, and we registered this afternoon, but OMG stress! However, I should tell you, that we are taking our birth class from none other than Penny Simkin herself. How awesome is that? I have now moved on to stressing about daycare. Oh, daycare. But my stress surrounding day care is probably more than enough for it's own post.

I'm also starting to feel quite a bit better about the whole maternity fashion thing. (Is it vain to talk about this so often?) I still don't quite look pregnant, unless you're looking from the exact right angle, and my posture is just so, and you knew what I looked like before, etc. etc. And feeling like you look fat instead of pregnant isn't any good. But I've been able to find a few more good pieces here and there and I don't feel like I am wearing the same tee shirt every day, so that is good. I still need to do a lot more work to build a functional wardrobe, but it probably be and ongoing process, especially since I'm sure some of the stuff that fits me now won't anymore later. BFF and I have a date this weekend to visit every maternity store in the Seattle metropolitan area, so that should be good, I think.

In other news, Kyle and I did venture to the local (well, it's really in another city) Babies 'R Us to start our registry. There are only maybe ten things on it as of right now, since we actually have to research car seats and strollers and bottles and what kind of baby grooming kit we want, but I feel better knowing that we've at least started it and that I've exposed Kyle to the sheer masses of stuff that we don't necessarily need, but that is available to make our lives easier (or perhaps more difficult) with a baby. And I'm slowly acquiring information and knowledge about car seats and strollers, so the volume of choices is starting to feel not entirely overwhelming, and I'm beginning to feel relatively confident that we'll actually be able to make a decision we feel confident before the baby turns two.

What's in a name?

How in the world do people name their children without have a complete nervous breakdown? I feel like this (and every other decision we have to make involving pregnancy, childbirth, and parenting) is the biggest, most important thing I've ever had to do and the consequences if we get it wrong... well, I don't know what they are, but they are hanging over my head, nonetheless. A name, a car seat, a parenting philosophy... it's all so overwhelming.

Names in particular are so important to me. I have a "weird" name. I also had a weird nickname as a kid. I love my weird name. Maybe it's because of the millions of times my dad told me how much thought he and my mom had put into choosing it, and the reasons the had, and so on, but I'm so glad I'm simply Astrid, and not Jessica R. or Jenny, because there's already a Jen and a Jennifer in my class/workplace/whatever. And yeah, it was often pronounced incorrectly or completely misheard, and yes, there were a couple of weeks in third grade where the older boys called me "ostrich," but none of that really matters. What matters is that my dad thought it was really important for his daughter to have a strong feminine name, one not too dainty or diminutive. What matters is that I was the only Astrid around, and my name was mine, all mine, and almost nobody has any preconceived notions about who I am or what kind of person I should be. I get to make that first impression.

We talk so much about teasing when we talk about names. When we talk about anything, really. Don't name you kid after a fruit, she'll get made fun of.  You have to circumcise your son or the other boys in the locker room will bully him. Your daughter will have a hard time making friends if you send her to school with a pita and hummus instead of a PB&J. I think the moral here is not that we can protect our kids from taunts and bullying by normalizing everything about them, but that our children will be teased no matter what we do, and that shouldn't be a good enough reason to name them John, or preform elective cosmetic surgery on a newborn, or whatever. And I think I'd so much rather be Astrid/Ostrich than Sarah number seventeen.

So my kids are not going to be Aiden or Emma, or whatever is at the top of the charts right now. But I think picking a unique name is so much harder than just going with the flow, or following some family tradition, or what have you. When you have all the freedom in the world, you can become paralyzed with indecision and get completely overwhelmed with all the choices, not to mention the lifelong consequences they'll have for your children.

We have a little less than six months to figure it out. Let's hope that's long enough.

15/40

Hello, blog! I'm still here. Fifteen weeks and one day pregnant. This experience just gets weirder and weirder I think. I'm pretty sure my body is changing by the day at this point, and it always looks different in the evening than I remember it looking in the morning. Bizarre. My belly is still not cute and round and obviously pregnant looking, but it's changed enough the even Kyle clearly notices the difference, and that's saying a lot, since as far as he is concerned, I've been the same size for the last six years. Definitely not so accurate. But yeah. This is getting real now. No needing to arch the back to emphasize it.

I'm really happy that baby is doing good growing in there, and that I'm finally seeing some obvious changes, but like, fashion-wise, belly is not making me very happy. Yesterday I wore the one stylish maternity shirt that I have out to trivia night with some friends, and instead of looking cute-pregnant, I'm pretty sure I just looked like I was awkward, chubby, and trying to hide it. Blah. And since it's less uterus, and more internal organs pushed out of the way by uterus, it's still kind of squishy and not hard and round and bleh. And the fact that I have approximately four things that I can fit into, most of which are boring as all hell, doesn't really make me feel any better about this.

But otherwise, I'm doing pretty good. I seem to have gotten over the barfing thing (finally!), although I do still sometimes feel queasy, but not in a yakking-is-imminent kind of way. I am still, though, tired all the time. I think maybe more than I had been previously. And my appetite still hasn't 100% returned. I'm trying to make myself eat so that I can gain back the 5.5 pounds I've lost, but eating when you're not hungry or find everything completely unappetizing is not fun, nor does it really promote a healthy attitude towards food. At least now I'm eating a wider variety of things than just bread, but hopefully soon I will like eating again.

I'm also finding that my center of gravity is already shifting, and I'm a bit more tippy than normal. This wouldn't be such a big deal, I don't think, except for that I spend a lot of my time wearing really tall heels or climbing ladders, or both. This morning we were putting up new displays and I almost lost my balance a couple times in the window. I think I'm going to have to start delegating that part of my job. And just being more careful in general, probably. A lot of my work seems to put me in precarious positions, and I really ought to be more mindful of myself.