I'm still alive...for the most part

So....this blog has not turned out to be exactly what I thought it would.  I really wanted to keep constant updates, articles, and other interesting items about my pregnancy and things I'm learning along the way.  Unfortunately, it's not turning out the way I expected...due to my pregnancy.  Here are a couple of things that have been preventing me from writing the way I wanted.

1.  Ligament pains.  Now, at first, I didn't even know what the hell this was.  I would just be walking along and then a stabbing pain, that lasts about .2 seconds, would make me keel over and immobile.  At first I thought I was dying, but then I found out it is totally normal.  It's just the ligaments and muscles and such stretching, so you get really bad cramp like feelings because of it.

2.  Constipation.  I'm not even gonna go into the details of this journey.  But as someone who hasn't really dealt with constipation, I found it incredibly uncomfortable and sometimes even made me sick.  After trying everything from stool softeners, enemas, and high fiber foods, I finally didn't find success until I started taking Benefiber.  I am now so in love with Benefiber that I secretly make out with the bottle when no one is looking.  Seriously, if you ever have any kind of poop issues, get on the Benefiber!!!

3.  Nausea.  Holy crap.  5 months pregnant and still dealing with queasiness, nausea, and throwing up.  Sometimes I throw up so bad that blood vessels break all over my face and it looks like I have some crazy rash/disease.  I like to call this my acne full alien look.  At this point in the pregnancy, most women are over the "morning sickness."  I have not have had this same luxury.  I've tried everything from resting, eating bland foods, crackers, ginger anything, even acupuncture.  Unfortunately, some things have relieved the nausea, but it ain't goin anywhere anytime soon!  I lost 10 lbs in my first trimester and I still have yet to gain it all back.  In hindsight, that's probably a good thing.  I'm a bit of a chunky monkey, so luckily I had some extra poundage to lose.  I'm eventually gonna blow up to be the big ol' elephant I am destined to be.  But until then, I'm trying to look pass the daily nausea and enjoy the "you don't even look pregnant" comments.  But I'm hoping to get at least one month free of nausea so I can truly enjoy my pregnancy.  Oh, and so I can stop calling my best friend in the middle of the night out of dire depression and desperation to feel better.

4.  Sleeping issues.  Although my tummy is not as big as some ladies at this point, it is getting round.  Which is making it hard for this tummy sleeper mommy.  Not to mention that I wake up to baby kicks, trips to the bathroom, and random dreams that are so vivid I feel like I haven't actually woken up at all.

5.  Can't breathe.  So I've been doing some reading on what kinds of things to symptoms to expect when pregnant, and one of the ones is shortness of breath.  Interestingly enough, this isn't supposed to happen (usually) until much later on in the pregnancy.  Pretty much because the baby is getting bigger and presses on your lungs, oh, and the extra weight you're carrying.  Luckily for me, the breathing issues started about last month.  The main points when it effects me are 1. when I am sleeping.  Something about when I lay down just messes everything up and it can be really hard to take a deep breath.  2.  When I go upstairs. Even if I go up just one flight, my heart starts to pound to the point where it feels like it explodes.  I have even had a couple of episodes where I have almost passed out.  Luckily for me, NYC is packed with loads of staircases in their train stations.  And I live on a 3rd floor walk up.


So those are the main things.  I pretty much have at least 3 times a day where I think I am going to die.  But alas, I remember, it's just because I'm pregnant. As I start to feel better, I hope to write more, and spend time with people too.  Well, after I finish writing stuff for my thesis first.  Ugh, too much writing to do.  I will start to be more involved with this blog though and venturing out into the real world!!!


Until then...

In case you haven't heard...

!!!!WE'RE HAVING A GIRL!!!!

We found out on Wednesday, November 23rd that we're having a lil baby girl.  We won't be sharing names just yet, but we're very excited to share this news.  We would have been happy, no matter what the sex turned out to be.  But now that we know it's a girl, there are a whole new set of dreams, goals, and fears that are making this experience so much more real.

Here's to looking forward to the future of my little girl.  Can't wait to see where our journey takes us.

Boy vs. girl vs. panic

In about 11 hours I am going to know whether we are having a boy or girl.  I am nervous, excited, and a bit scared out of my mind.  Mostly because I've been having some serious issues with how to deal with identity and gender for my child.

I know this might seem ridiculous to some people, but out of the millions of things I probably could be worrying about, one of the main things I get concerned with is my child dealing with gender and social "norms" being imposed upon them.  And then by absorbing those norms they then begin to judge and not accept others because they are "different."  I know that a lot of that has to do with how parents bring up their children.  But I also know that environmental factors make a huge difference, and the older a child gets the less you have any control over their environment.

But what seems fearful is that these gender stereotypes are placed on children at such a young age.  Primarily through toys, shows, and clothing.  For example"

These are just onesies, but these are the type of clothes that make me a bit nervous.  Boys its always dark colors and sports, sports, sports.  And for girls it mainly pinks and purples and ditsy, brainless sayings.  In my opinion, girl things usually tend to be worse and more oppressive, but I'm not really happy with the options either way.  OBVIOUSLY, I will not be purchasing these types of items, but someone else might.  And what am I supposed to say?  Um, thanks for your gift  but I don't want my child to become a stereotypical meat/air head who don't appreciate themselves or others.

I feel like once we find out the sex of the baby, I'm going on a whole journey of making sure that my son can feel ok to wear pink or take a dance class or my daughter can wear baggy clothes and not care about make up without being made fun of for being "gay" or a "tom boy" or being considered an outsider.   

I'm obviously not going to go to any extremes, like this one set of parents, who decided to not tell anyone the sex of their baby so the child could decide their own gender.  

http://www.parentdish.com/2011/05/26/genderless-baby/

And although I would never do this, I can totally understand why these parents did it.  There are so many pressures for people to act a certain way based on their sex.  I have met many women who refuse to lift anything because its "too heavy" and "need to get a man to do it."  And I have met way too many men who refuse to cry, especially in public, because it is a sign of weakness for them.  I truly believe that these behaviors are instilled at a young age and then just nurtured by society throughout adulthood.  

I know it will take a lot of hard, consistent work to make sure my child has the confidence to be proud of the person they are and not care what other people think of them.  I just really really hope that no matter how challenging it might be, that they don't give in to what others expect them to be just because of the genitalia they were born with.  Hopefully Michael and I can equip our child with the tools to gain the inner strength to be ok with who they are, and continue to defend that (if need be) when Michael and I can no longer do it.  

Crossing my fingers, not for a boy or girl, but for a happy, healthy human being.

Lost but not forgotten...

In June of this year I experienced a miscarriage.  I only knew I was pregnant for about 4 days before I began to miscarry.  But those 4 days were some of the best days of my life.  My whole world was turned upside down by a simple pink plus sign.  I couldn't believe how happy I was.

And less than a week later, I experienced one of the greatest bouts of sadness that I had ever felt.  When the doctor said it was "not a viable pregnancy," I was speechless.  And then for a couple of weeks when I wasn't speechless, I was crying.  It was incredibly painful trying to figure out why I was in so much pain.  I hadn't actually had the child.  I wasn't even pregnant "long enough" to establish a strong connection with the baby.

I finally allowed myself to realize that a loss is a loss.  The moment I found out I was pregnant I had created a whole life for that baby.  Goals, dreams, fears, hopes.  It was as real to me as any other person  I know.  After weeks of mourning and healing, I started to feel a little bit better.  And right around that time I found out I was pregnant...again.

I had taken the pregnancy test by myself (last time I took it with Michael).  I still smiled with excitement, but was very concerned.  I wasn't sure if I could do a round two of the previous months.  When I finally got to go to the doctor, she said something that tapped into one of my fears: my progesterone levels were critically low and if I didn't do something about it I was going to the lose the baby.

Luckily, taking extra hormones during my first trimester fixed all of that and we got out of the danger zone.  The further the pregnancy goes along, the more confident I get that everything is going to be alright and the more excited I get to meet him/her.  But...I can't seem to forget the baby I lost, the baby I now refer to as Baby June.

Of course, I never actually expected to forget Baby June.  But I have actually been feeling a bit of guilt.  Like by having this new baby, I'm completely ignoring the fact that Baby June ever existed.  And I couldn't help but feel that Baby June was still present in my life (like, the spirit of) and upset, thinking that I loved this current baby more.  Some kind of invisible sibling rivalry so to speak.  I was actually up all night worried about this one day.

I'm still coming to terms with the fact that the miscarriage "wasn't my fault."  And I'm trying to let myself believe that if Baby June is looking down on me now, that they aren't upset, but rather happy for his/her parents.  But I know, until the day I die, I will never ever forget that baby.  And I will always love it with all of my heart, just as much as I love my current baby.  There is no comparison between the two.  They are/were both my children.  And that's all that matters.

Is that what I think it is!?!

So last Wednesday was an interesting night for me.  I was trying to fall asleep, but was doing my hour long ritual of tossing and turning.  I finally landed on my stomach (will be so sad when I can't sleep on my tummy anymore) and got super comfy.  All of the sudden I felt something really weird.

I can't even begin to properly describe what it was.  It def wasn't gas, the feeling was too high.  It wasn't nausea, too low.  It didn't feel like butterflies.  It kind of felt like liquid swooshing around in my stomach.  And not even that really describes what it was like.  I had a hunch of what it might be, but didn't want to get my hopes up.

The next morning I did a bit of research and also reached out to the ladies on my Baby Center Birth Club.  It turns out my initial instinct was right; I FELT THE BABY MOVE!!!!!!  I wasn't expecting to feel the baby so early on, and probably wouldn't have felt it if I wasn't on my stomach.  But I got to and it was amazing.  Just one more thing to make this whole experience that much more real.  I'm interested to see how the first kick is gonna feel like.

Short and simple entry today.  But also just wanted to say one final thing...


                 !!!!HAPPY HALLOWEEN!!!!

50/50

As the horrors of the first trimester begin to wane (notice I said "begin to."  Yes, it's still going on.)  I am starting to get a bit more excited about being a mom.  It's weird to actually think of myself in those terms still, but I'm warming up to it.  I find myself talking to the baby sometimes, totally by accident. And sometimes I randomly hug my stomach because I just get really excited about being pregnant.

I haven't really gotten emotional about being a mom, that is, up until this Sunday.  Sunday night the hubby and I decided to go to the movies because we haven't been in a minute.  We went to go see 50/50, a dramatic comedy starring Joseph Gordon Levitt and Seth Rogen.  I'm a fan of both, so I thought it might be cool to see. 

It's a pretty cute/saddish movie about a young man (Levitt) who gets diagnosed with spinal cancer at the age of 27, and his journey in dealing with that.  Even though Levitt and Rogen had great chemistry, I couldn't stop watching Angelica Houston, who I have had a total crush on since back in the Addams Family days. 

Ms. Houston plays Levitt's mom, who is also the wife of an Alzheimer's patient.  She is very concerned and protective of her son, but not in such an overbearing way that you want to stab her in the face.  Unfortunately for her, her son really doesn't want anything to do with her because she is "annoying."  As Levitt continuously pushes her away, you see her pain but respect her for not pushing him too hard.  One of the characters in the movies so wittingly says to Levitt "Wow.  She has a husband that can't talk to her, and a son that won't.  You're kind of a dick."

There was one scene that hit me particularly hard.  She visits her son in the hospital, and sees him rolled away as he goes into a surgery.  And in my head, I thought "that could be the last time she ever sees him.  That could be her last image of him."  And I started bawling.  Not even my most nauseous day had me clutching my stomach so tight.

What was weird was I was not experiencing any kind of regret in having a child because they might get cancer.  Rather, I was sadly overjoyed that I had the opportunity of feeling that much loving pain if I ever lost my child in that way.  I can only imagine that it is one of the most unique feelings in the world, and truly a gift.  I know...it sounds a bit morbid.  But its kinda like one of those "I would rather have loved and lost than never loved at all" type feelings.  And regardless of its morbidity, I feel very grateful that I will be able to experience that kind of love for another human being.

First pre-natal yoga class

My usual yoga classes:  I go to a real awesome place called Yoga Vida.  (www.yogavida.com).  Their vinyasa classes are super affordable which is pretty rock star.  I'm definitely not the type of person that can do the meditative style of yoga.  I get lost in my own head.  Vinyasa is more about the transition from one position into another.  So its very fluid and mostly constantly moving.  It gives you a great workout.  Then the last 10 minutes are used as the more relaxation/meditative time.

My expectations of pre-natal yoga:  I assumed that since preggo women don't have much mobility or balance, that they would spend more time just sitting and meditating.  It made me a little nervous because the class was an hour and a half long (my usual yoga classes are an hour) and that just seemed like a ridiculously long time to be at one with myself.  I thought I was just going to sit in a room with a bunch of preggos listening to them huff and puff and rub up on their bellies.  I wasn't totally down with that.

How it actually went:  It wasn't too bad!  I was the smallest person there.  Most of the ladies were at least 20 weeks, but mostly more.  They were so plump and cute. :-)  A couple of them kept looking at me smiling.  I couldn't tell if it was "aw, how cute, she doesn't know what she's in for" or if they were just acknowledging that I'm at the beginning of my journey and they were in my shoes not too long ago.  I'm gonna go with the latter. 

The first 30 minutes was spent on introductions and a reading.  Each woman introduced herself, how far along she was, and any issues she was having physically for the week.  The yoga instructor then read this passage from a book (which I have to get the name of) about sphincters.  Yeah, that word is gross.  But it was actually interesting learning about sphincters, which I found out is ANY muscle that operates more independently and doesn't function completely by the brain.  So for women it would be your butt hole (obvi) and your vajayjay.  Sometimes those muscles just start doing things no matter how hard you try to get them to stop.  Like pushing out a baby! 

Then we got into the yoga portion.  It wasn't as intense as the vinyasa that I'm used to, but it was still great.  We did some various warrior poses and leg stretches and such.  The relaxation portion was longer than usual, and we laid on our sides with a pillow between our legs.

I didn't mind the relaxation part at first, but it definitely went on longer than my brain could handle.  I started thinking about my best friend from college, who I just found out is also pregnant and due a week before me.  She lives about 6 hours away though.  Then I started thinking about my family, they live 4 hours away.  And I started to realize how badly I actually miss them and how much I hate that they are all so far away.  I have definitely made great friends in NYC.  And Michael's family is super great.  But sometimes this experience of being pregnant feels so lonely.  Not because I don't have people around me to love and support me, but because the people who have watched me grow physically and emotionally as a person aren't getting to see this humongous step/change in my life.  I wish I had more time to go see them, but thus is the life of a working mom.

So, as expected, I started to tear up.  Luckily I wasn't facing anyone (I effing hate crying in front of people, and it seems to be happening more often) and I had a nice lil cry to myself.  It didn't make it any better that my nausea is still pretty crazy, so all the movement of the yoga class was making me ill. 

Overall, it was a great experience.  It was nice to be in a room with women going through similar experiences.  It felt like I was part of a group that was way bigger than myself; pun kind of intended.  It's going to be a little while before I go back because my nausea has been getting really bad the last two weeks.  But I'm ready to get back and join my fellow bendy, plump mommas to be.

WHAT IS THAT!?!?!

One thing that I am unbelievably terrified of is giving birth.  I am fully aware that billions of women have done it before me and have survived.  But I have a constant fear that its going to be so unbelievably painful that I might just die.  I think the fear stems somewhere from never having broken anything, sprained anything, gotten any kind of surgery, nothing.

It just so happens that BabyCenter (www.babycenter.com) was featuring live birthing videos.  Now being the educated woman I am, I thought watching these videos would give me a better understanding of what actually happens during birth and make me feel more empowered about the whole process.  The end result was be practically dry heaving and having to lay in bed for about an hour until the nausea went away.

Video #1- Epidurals

http://www.babycenter.com/2_live-birth-epidural_10314055.bc

 

First of all, this labor seemed totally unusual.  This looked like the most perfect situation that could ever happen and I don't want to get sucked in to thinking this is how it will be.  Regardless, when the baby started to come out I thought I was watching Ace Ventura and Jim Carrey was coming out of the fake rhino.  I was so horrified by the elasticity of this woman's vagina that I was subconsciously grabbing my own like I was apologizing to it in advance.  Its a horrifying scene.

 

Video #2- Natural Birth

http://www.babycenter.com/2_live-birth-natural_3656508.bc

 

Hell to the eff no.  Never.  Ever.  No.  Granted, this woman's birth was only about 5 hours.  But between the writhing around on the bed, pounding on the wall, and looking like she was being possessed, the idea of the pure agony really turned me off.  The only thing that looked appealing is that she got to lay in a comfy king size bed. 

 

Video #3- Cesarean

http://www.babycenter.com/2_live-birth-c-section-surgery_3656510.bc

 

This is the way I always thought I would go.  Get numbed up.  Can totally plan for it.  But after watching this, I'm not so sure.  I have heard a lot of awful things about the healing process.  But seeing that baby literally being dragged out of her whole entire abdomen...gross.  I'm not sure what I was expecting, but what I saw, it just doesn't look like my body should be doing that.  But I could say the same for the others above as well.

 

I'm probably gonna stick with the good ol' epidural delivery, but am not too psyched about it.  I'm hoping, somehow, in the next 6 months I just come to terms with it.  Whatever happens, happens....right?

The plumbing is working, but the wiring is crossed

I mentioned in an earlier post that I've never been a super maternal type of person.  I don't look at kids and melt.  Yes, there are cute kids.  Adorable kids.  And kids sure do say the darndest things.  But the further away from me they are, the better I am.  Mostly because I don't know how to talk to anyone who is less that 14 years old.

There are certain exceptions.  My nephews for sure.  And the kids of a couple of my closest friends.  But I think I only like them at this point because I've learned how to talk to them.  I've been able to build a relationship with them.  I still totally have my awkward moments.  There are times when one of my sister in laws has to actually tell me to hold her baby because I generally just look at him with fear.  I don't want to break him.  And I have no idea what to do with him.  He can't talk yet and I'm not good at doing that whole goo-goo ga-ga stuff, so I just hold him and stare at him.

What's funny is that my aunts (two lovely women that helped my mom raise me) are crazy good with kids.  They never had any kids of their own, but every kid they meet immediately loves them.  It always amazes me and I totally strive to be that kind of person.  One trick I've learned is to treat kids like dogs.  I know, it sounds totally ridiculous.  And this might not work for everyone. But I am a super dog lover and am really great with them.  And little children and dogs are not that different.  They loved to be wrestled with, talked to, and if you throw something they are bound to go get it and bring it back...over and over and over again.  That really only works for like the first 3 years or so, so I gotta figure out a new trick and fast.

My main concern is making sure I become the type of woman that is a "natural" with kids.  And while being pregnant I have felt anything but.  Mostly because I find myself cursing pregnancy so often.  The last three months really have been awful.  Constant nausea and fatigue.  Eating has become a chore.  And now I'm so constipated that I'm pretty sure the poop that has been sitting in my body for the last two weeks is starting to poison me.
I've caught myself, mid dry heaving or curled up in a ball of pain, concerned that I was going to be a horrible mother because I can't look pass the misery and see the joy of bringing a new life in the world.  But then one of my sister in laws asked me the other day "besides the nausea, bloating, and all of that, do you feel pregnant yet?"

That's when it hit me.  No.  I don't feel pregnant.  Imagine the worst hangover you've had.  Or food poisoning situation.  Or flu.  Then take that 1-5 days of torture and elongate it to 1-3 months.  So this whole time, although logically have been pregnant, have just felt like I'm on the verge of dying.  Who the hell can find the joy in that?  So I'm giving myself a bit of leeway (with a hint of fear of course) to let myself just focus on one thing at a time.  Right now, I feel like a sick dog and I'm going to try to get through that before I start thinking about the human being that's going to magically swim out of my vag in 6 months.

On a good note, my life-boo (term totally stolen from a friend) and I were able to go to the doctor this past Thursday.  Normally, we see a little circle on the sonogram screen and hear the heart beat, which is usually pretty cool.  But this time we were totally caught off guard.  There was an actual human being.  Like, a head.  And legs.  And (pardon my language) IT WAS FUCKING MOVING AROUND!  Like, swimming around.  Totally blew our minds.  And that experience brought me one step closer to feeling like a mom.  I've got 6 more months to get where I want to be.  I'm hoping that when the crappiness of the first trimester is over, that I will be there.  But looking at the picture below reminds me that it definitely is possible.  :-)

Pickin' a P.I.C.

A lot of people look at people they are dating or are in relationships with and often think to themselves, "Can I really see myself spending the rest of my life with this person?"  If the answer is yes, then congratulations.  But what I have quickly learned is this particular question is not as easy at it seems.

Being married is more than just walking down the aisle and living happily ever after.  There are bills, chores, deciding what to eat, balancing your individual freedom and working at your ever evolving relationship, and worst of all...sharing a bathroom.  There's a lot to factor in when deciding who you are going to marry.  Can you deal with them getting liver spots?  Getting so comfortable that they release wretched smells from all parts of the body every 5 minutes?  Constantly have food stuck in their teeth? It all seems like small trivial stuff, but it definitely matters in the end.

One question you should definitely ask BEFORE you get married/committed, especially if its something you want, is if this person would be a good parent.  Not just if you're willing to have kids with them, but that they will provide your children with whatever they need under any circumstances.  From conversations I have had with other people, they usually wait until after they've made their vows to worry about this.  But it is sooooooo important to do ASAP.

I kind of lucked out.  When my husband and I first got together, I knew he REALLY wanted kids; I was pretty much indifferent.  I had never been the type of girl who felt the need to get married or have kids.  Whatever happened, happened.  But the more time I spent with him, the more I got excited about the idea of being a wife and a mother.  Now let me make this clear, I still don't want to have kids for the sake of having kids.  There is no maternal clock screaming at me, telling me that I need to start popping out babies.  I want a child with my husband because I know that we will make an amazing team raising our kids.  He is gonna be my perfect partner in crime.  Or as the "kids" call it these days, my P.I.C.

Let me tell ya one thing, being pregnant is the ultimate test to see if you have a good P.I.C.  As women we go through crappy things in general.  Puberty is hell (where did those boobs come from!).  Having your period sucks.  Having to shave is awful.  It's just an annoying gender, but not one I would trade for the world.  But out of all the things I have experienced as a woman, being pregnant is one of the most annoying.  And I'm only 8 weeks.

Luckily, I have a fantastic P.I.C.  My husband has put me in a constant state of awe of how "there" he is.  He is so with it.  Sometimes annoyingly so, but still.  The man loves me, and he loves his future child.  He's carrying stuff.  Cleaning the litter.  Food shopping.  Dropping off my laundry.  You name it, he's doing it.

The best example of his awesomeness as a P.I.C. was this pass Sunday.  The last few weeks I had been experiencing a crazy amount of nausea.  So much so that I lost 9 pounds in two weeks because I couldn't really eat anything.  I could barely move.  And there was a lot of crying involved.  Sunday found my nausea at an all time high.

I knew something wasn't right first thing in the morning.  It was way more intense than usual.  I tried to spend time with a friend, but had to end up rushing home because a huge wave of death passed over me.  I spent the rest of the night on the couch with my husband, catering to my every need.  At around midnight I finally got in the shower to get ready for bed.  All of the sudden, my body started convulsing.  I thought I was going to go into my usual dry heaving routine that I had been experiencing the week before, but my tummy had different plans.

All of the sudden I could feel the prunes I had just ate a couple of hours ago start to come up.  And before I could even have any kind of reaction, everything decided to make a reappearance.  I'm standing there, butt naked in the shower, water still running on me, simultaneously crying and puking like I had never puked before.  The worst part was that I had those prunes, so it literally looked like I was puking old people poop out of my mouth.

My darling husband rubbed my back the whole time.  After I was done he wrapped me in a towel, sent me to my room, and continued to clean up my mess in the shower.  My knight in shining yellow cleaning gloves.  After he was done, he brought me water, a snack, my progesterone, and helped me go to sleep.  The best part about it?  That man did not grimace once.  He was practically giddy to help me.  I could tell, down to the bottom of his core, he WANTED to help me.  No obligation.  No annoyance.  He wanted nothing more than to see his baby momma happy and comfortable.  It was a gross yet wonderful moment.

So although that Sunday was completely awful and I will probably never forget it, I am so grateful for it.  My man's true colors shined bright that night.  And I am so glad I found him.  He's the best P.I.C. a gal could ever ask for.    

Sticks and stones may break my bones but I'll break your effing face in if you don't mind your effing business!!!!

Be forewarned, some people have no filters on their brains.  For some odd reason their brain thinks of some obnoxious thing to say and there is no little warrior blocking the passageway from the brain to the mouth and it just gets blurted out; inevitably hurting someone's feelings or really pissing them off.  This couldn't be more true while you're pregnant.

After you start breaking the news that you're knocked up, everyone and their long lost cousin, six times removed, will have something to say.  Now, sometimes it totally works in your favor.  There are some lovely angels who have wonderful words of wisdom and advice.  Hold on to those angels for dear life because they'll be the ones who bring you down a couple of notches when your inner banshee starts to come out.  So far, for me, I have an amazing group of people including my mom, my boss, one of my best friends, my two sister in laws, and of course my kick ass husband, serving as my rocks holding down the sails of craziness so I don't go postal.

Unfortunately, even they can't prevent every little piece of douchebaggery that might fly my way.  For example, after spending a weekend laying on the couch because my nausea was so intense it left me immobile, I heard "Lex, do you think that maybe the nausea is just all in your head?"  Now, my first reaction was one of pure hatred and violence.  I could have gone into a crazy rampage of "You don't know what it's like! You have no idea of what's going on in my body!  It's different for everyone! Why don't you jump off a bridge, land on a pile of HIV infected needles, and rot!"  I was angry.  But instead I just said "No, it's not.  Thanks for asking."  And walked away.

Wasn't exactly the best way to deal with it. I so badly want to be the type of woman that no matter what stupid things come my way, I can calmly (and almost happily) diffuse them and move on.  I would have much preferred to sit this person down and give them a little education of what actually happens during a women's first trimester, and before a single "but that didn't happen to my sister/mother/baby momma" can slip out, inform them of all the stats that explain the various experiences pregnant women can go through.  It truly is different for every woman.  I would have also liked to encourage this person to ask questions about the experience rather than passing judgment because they don't understand something.  Alas, I did not of those things because I just wanted to throw a refrigerator at their head.

With that said, we're not perfect.  Sometimes people say stupid things.  Sometimes people have stupid reactions to the things that people say to them.  Sometimes people overreact (cough cough, me, cough) and that's just life.  But as a pregnant woman who is feeling very protective of her own emotions, her loved ones, and the child growing inside of her, its feels like a completely different experience to feel like you're being threatened, even on the most minimal level.  Just remember, you have something so wonderful growing inside of you that will put whatever those people have to say to shame.  Your child will love you no matter how crazy you are.  And if they ever say something you don't like, you can just ground them for life.  Ain't life grand. :-)

Building a Preggo-master Library

Now, when a woman finds out she's pregnant, she is inevitably going to dive into countless books, websites, blogs, and forums that have to deal with pregnancy, giving birth, raising a child, etc.  Which is totally normal and super helpful.  The only problem is,  a lot of women take everything they read, word for word, to heart.  I see so many women putting themselves into a panic because they are 6 weeks pregnant and their book said they should be experiencing nausea, and when they don't, they make themselves feel that they are probably having a miscarriage or their baby is deformed.  They go to countless visits to the doctor to keep getting checked out which puts them in a constant state of worry, which is not so great for their unborn child.

This is why I usually read real life accounts of pregnancy rather than those "step by step" pregnancy guides.  Don't get me wrong, those are helpful too.  They help me learn about the scientific side of the pregnancy and what's going on inside my body.  My favorite so far is The BabyCenter Essential Guide to Pregnancy and Birth. 

It's really helpful in letting you know what's happening with your baby's growth and your body.  But in all reality, these types of books don't prepare me (and probably nothing will) for all the freaky shit that is going to happen to my body, brain, relationships, and my life in general.  Do your research ladies, but be prepared for anything to happen.  That's why I really liked Jenny McCarthy's book, Belly Laughs. 

It is a short and hilarious account of what it was like FOR HER to be pregnant.  It is actually one of the reasons that inspired me to write this blog.  She doesn't talk about how magical it was or how happy she was.  She gets down to the real nitty gritty of what being pregnant was like.   Even as a celebrity, she still gained 60 lbs., got hemorrhoids, pooped on herself during pregnancy, and was completely tortured by her hormones.  THAT'S what I want to read about.  I know I can't prepare for every little thing during pregnancy.  But at least I can start putting into my mind that I literally have no control over my body right now.  And I am slowly but surely making myself OK with that.  Because if I keep reading something that tells me that my hcg levels (pregnancy hormones) should be at 7,000 and I'm at 6,999, I'm going to freak myself out and not enjoy the pregnancy.

Some woman might say this is pessimistic and the books really help them.  If that's the case, then good for you!  I'm really glad you found something to help you along your pregnancy.  But let's be honest, being pregnant sucks.  I wouldn't take it back for the world, and I am super happy to make "the sacrifice." But being pregnant is no walk in the park.  At only 6 weeks I have already felt fatigue like I have never felt in my life, I am in a constant state of nausea to the point where I'm starting to think someone might have actually poisoned my food 3 weeks ago, and if I didn't know any better, my chest has been replaced with that of a cow.  So instead of reading what my body "should" do, I would rather read about all the things that my body MIGHT do so I'm better prepared.  It can be a terrifying read (I totally got nauseous during the part where Jenny McCarthy gave birth!) but I feel so much better prepared.  If you keep yourself in la-la land thinking that pregnancy is going to be full of rainbows, ponies, and cute little elves, you're probably in for one biiiiiiiiig rude awakening!  I just hope you have Belly Laughs by your side when that happens.

What's it like?

Michael:  I miss the baby.  You're so lucky you get to spend every waking moment with it.
Me:  Yeah, it is pretty awesome.
Michael:  What's it like?
Me:  Well even though I constantly feel nausea and exhausted, there's something about knowing that its not caused by a sickness that's comforting.  Like there's something bigger than myself just chillin in my belly.
Michael:  You should write that in the blog.
Me: Ok, I will. :-)

 

The crazy starts to come out!

Today I popped my crazy pregnant lady cherry.  And even though in hind sight it wasn't that awful, it was made worse by knowing that it all goes down hill from here sista!

It technically started last night.  I started freaking out that I was having a miscarriage.  Rightfully so, because I had a miscarriage at 6 weeks back in June.  Not rightfully so, because my evidence was that I was so ravenous I could eat for hours (I had been experiencing huge food aversions the last few days).  Not to mention that my husband and I were watching Dexter (we're only on Season 3!) and we saw the episode where Rita ends up in the hospital, worried about having a miscarriage.  She ended up being just fine but I continued to convince myself that it was some kind of sign from the baby making gods that I was miscarrying.

My worry continued this morning when I felt like I had absolutely no pregnancy symptoms.  The nausea, boob soreness, food aversions were completely gone.  I was still feeling really fatigued, but attributed that to me being the worst morning person of all time.  I kept taking deep breaths to try to calm myself down.  I didn't want to rush off and pee on another pregnancy test and cause myself more hysteria.  I knew that even if it showed up positive that I would find some way to convince myself that something was wrong with the test.  I decided to just move on with my day and head to work.

Now, you should know, that being a New Yorker who relies on public transportation can be quite the emotional roller coaster.  Homeless people, garbage, rats, people shouting into their phones, men "accidentally" grabbing you when the train is packed, no AC during summer, no heat during winter, its all just a mess that we pay too much money for.  But as a pregnant woman, even at only 5 weeks, it’s a disastrous experience and has officially made me want totally ok with the idea of jumping into a diesel truck and driving my butt to work.  Screw the ozone layer.  I live in New York City.  How much worse could I make it, really?

I didn't develop my MTA hatred immediately this morning.  The moment began when I was reading my book, Belly Laughs by Jenny McCarthy (a fun read!).  The whole book talks about her experience as a preggo lady and I got to the part where she begins to go into labor and give birth.  The idea of my vagina ripping all the way to my ass scares the hell out of me.  Reading about it didn’t make it any better.  All of the sudden, my nausea kicked in.  I was totally Paris Hiltoning and my body felt like I crammed a toothbrush into my throat to get my lovely egg and yogurt breakfast out ASAP. 

The worst part about the nausea is that I always get crazy heat waves.  So as soon as I started to get sick I got reeeaaaaly hot.  And, of course, there was no AC on my train.  I started to sweat profusely, like Roseanne Arnold running on a treadmill chasing a piece of chicken tied to her forehead dangling on a string. Then, to make matters worse, this older woman sitting across from me started coughing.  Then, for whatever reason, the coughing turned into gagging.  I immediately started to have nightmares of her vomiting all over me and me returning the favor to her and everyone else in the car.

As if the heat, nausea, and crazy lady gagging weren't enough, my preggo super powers kicked in, power snauze to the scene!  All of a sudden, I could smell EVERYTHING.  And NYC isn't exactly one of the best smelling places on earth.  It was a unique aroma of cigarettes, cologne, and tire rubber.  I was about to lose it.  I had to get off that train. 

I had to get off any way to transfer, and I thought it would be such a huge relief.  But as soon as I broke through the crowded train onto the platform, a wave of worry hit me.  It was hotter on the platform and due to the lack of air circulation, it was super muggy.  I felt like I couldn't breathe.  I suddenly became lightheaded, shaky, and thought I was going to puke up my baby.  I crouched down, closed my eyes, and rocked myself back and forth until the next train came.

Getting on the train had about .2 seconds of relief.  The AC was working (thank Baby Buddha!) and helped cool me off.  The shakes were decreasing, I wasn't as lightheaded, but the nausea wasn't going anywhere.  I started to panic a bit, thinking I was going to puke on the train and on people.  I felt so trapped.  I just closed my eyes and tried to control my breathing.  One nice lady could sense something was wrong (I wasn't exactly hiding it) and offered me her seat.  Now, under other circumstances, I would gladly take the seat.  I have actually been super excited to get pregnant just for this particular luxury.  It's a big deal when a fellow New Yorker offers their hard plastic comfort for the sake of a total stranger's well being.  But for whatever reason, her offer made me hysterical.  I politely rejected the seat and began to cry.

While standing, clutching the train pole with all of my might, and trying to prevent my borderline hysteria from turning into some kind of crazy, schizophrenic, murderous episode, I remembered I had some saltine crackers in my bag.  So there I am, clutching on to the pole, crying my poor little barely pregnant eyes out, shoving crackers into my mouth, looking like a total psycho.  I had also managed to take my hair (which I had styled for the first time in like 5 months) and pushed it back with my sunglasses to get it off my skin.  I pretty much looked like Cruela DeVille going through menopause.

Another lovely New Yorker asked me if I needed help getting off the train and finding a cab.  I calmly told him that I was just experiencing a crazy moment of morning sickness and that I would be fine.  At that moment, my heart sank.  Nobody in my family knows that I'm pregnant.  Not even my closest friends.  Yet, I had to spill my lil (not so lil in 9 months!) secret to a perfect stranger to reduce the risk of me looking like a complete lunatic.

I finally got off the train, went up the stairs, and took a breath of fresh air.  It wasn't quite the fresh lavender meadows I was hoping for.  But it was certainly better than having armpit and crotch sweat floating around my ever so sensitive nostrils. 

Lesson learned:  a morning sickness first aid kit is always helpful.  Try to always carry crackers (or bread), ginger ale, a bottle of water, tums, and tissues (to wipe away the tears of embarrassment if all else fails).