27 weeks.

Everything is going swimmingly with me and Baby McGee at 27 weeks. The belly is growing into a jolly round basketball that occasionally itches like crazy. My weight gain is still on track, though a tad alarming to hear that I gained seven pounds in the last four weeks! I'm feeling mostly fine, just a little tired from the constant sleep interruptions from my bladder and the stupid carpal tunnel hand nonsense. The "black wave" I've been all too familiar with throughout my adult life has been peeking out a little, so I have been doing my best to take care of myself with extra relaxation when I can.

Ken and I finished our childbirth classes, and overall they were pretty helpful. They covered how to spot the signs of preterm labor, details on what happens when you get to the hospital, and the various options and outcomes. The information shared regarding natural childbirth gave me more confidence on having the birth plan we want while in the hospital, so that's good. Then they gave us free Luna Bars, Preggie Pops, and showed us how to breathe. There was a graduation diploma involved, too. Ha.

At my last OB appointment, I brought my doc a little box of holiday cookies from a vegan cookie swap I went to the night before. I mentioned to him that they were dairy-free and egg-free, in case anyone in the office had allergies. He looked excited for a second, then asked me if any of them were gluten-free. Sadly, they weren't. But it turns out he has two sons that are autistic, and follow a dairy-free, gluten-free diet. This conversaion led us to a really interesting (and kinda scary) conversation on vaccines, which I've been researching a lot lately. I am pro-vaccination, but Ken and I are both very interested in following a spread out/delayed schedule. I'll write more about this when I get my thoughts together about it, but I will say that I wish my OB was a pediatrician because he did a delayed schedule with his children after his first son showed signs of development regression after receiveing the standard MMR vax at 15 months. He did stress that only children who may be genetically prone to autism may have this kind of reaction to the standard CDC vax schedule, and that his younger son still has a mild form of autism despite the delayed schedule. His daughters have no signs of autism at all. Will our kid be genetically prone to autism? Who knows? I have an older brother who is learning disabled, but who has never really been properly diagnosed. Joseph doesn't have the most common symptoms typical of austism, like unusual sensory perceptions or hyperactivity. But he does have the abnormal social interactions, such as lack of empathy and inability to relate to people or make and keep relationships. He mimics other people's speech patterns and phrases without understanding what they mean. Humor is lost on him, with the exception of fart jokes. He has low intelligence and has an extremely hard time learning anything. His disability has made his entire life very difficult. Does this mean our baby has a genetic link to autism? Maybe it does, maybe it doesn't. And if our kid does have a form of autism, then we will do our best to make sure he is given every opportunity to lead a fulfilling life. But still. A scary thought.

Lots of things are on my mind, and having to be in charge of a little human is going to be super weird. I've got more thinking to do.

Oh, and the diabetes test is on Christmas Eve. Yay?

24 weeks.

24 weeks today, and my pregnancy complaints are still minimal. The worst of it so far has been sleeping becoming increasingly uncomfortable. I started wearing a wrist brace on my right hand, which is helping with the carpal tunnel pain. But my hands are still going numb throughout the night. Also sleeping exclusively on my sides with my extra belly weight is really starting to hurt my hips. So between constantly trying to get comfortable and getting up two or three times to pee, my nights are more restless than I want. But... it could be worse.

Mostly I'm just excited (and a little freaked out) to be able to meet the little dude soon. Another doc appointment is coming up in a few weeks, a gestational diabetes screening, then more regular appointments. Everything seems to be going well. I'll be sure to post again once I think of something more interesting to say!

22 weeks.

This morning's appointment went well, and put me in a fairly good mood! The doctor reviewed the results from last week's big ultrasound, and told me that everything looked great. The kid measures just the right size for my due date to (hopefully) be accurate within a day or two. My placenta is in a good place to not be causing any problems, and the facial features they check for as potential Down Syndrome markers all appear normal. Organs look fine, too. Doc's also happy with my weight gain so far, as I'm right on track. He suggests a weight gain between 8-12 pounds by 22 weeks, and I'm right at 10 pounds today. The heartbeat sounded good, and I left the office without feeling under-informed as I usually do. Yay!

Yesterday Ken surprised me with a body pillow, which is so very nice. I've been having a harder time sleeping through the night lately, mainly because I can't get comfortable. I have to sleep exclusively on my side now, as the added weight of the kid can cause pressure on my intestines, aorta and vena cava. So annoying to be tied to my side, and not having a back sleeping option. The body pillow was mega comfy last night, though I fear between the new pillow and my growing belly, Ken will soon be sleeping on a small two inch square of bed.

Another crazy thing that's been messing with my sleep at night is that I keep waking up with my hands all numb! I had no idea this was a pregnancy thing, but the doc said it's pretty common, and will only get worse. Great.

Next appointment is in one month, then I go every two weeks after that. Things are gettin' real, y'all.

bambino.

Well what do you know. We're having a boy! Exciting, but I'm in a bit of shock. My sister Maddi said she also felt shocked when she first found out the gender of her baby, maybe because it's not a mystery anymore, it's real.

He's pretty cute so far.



If he looks like his dad, he's gonna get even cuter. How about cute like Ralph Macchio when he's 12?

(sorry Ken.)

20 weeks 2 days.

Cantaloupe image from The Bump.


A few things of note this week:

- There has been all kinds of activity in my belly the past 3-4 days. Flutters galore!

- My usually dainty little fingers now resemble links of steamed seitan. Actually, I don't know if the metaphor needs to be steamed specifically, but I do like a good steamed seitan. Anyway. My wedding rings don't fit right now, and that makes me sad.

- I'm hot and sweaty all the time. It makes me feel like I stink, though Ken promised me that I do not. Maybe he's lying to be nice. I'm so glad summer is over, or I would be way grumpier.

- Dreams at night are getting crazy vivid. Not too many nightmares, just a lot of weird stuff that makes no sense.

- We will probably get to find out what flavor the baby is on Thursday! What is your guess? Boy? Girl? Blueberry, chocolate?

on vanity and pregnancy.

Feeling tired, fat and happy. I'm calling this picture 19 weeks, though it's really more 18 weeks 5 days. Close enough.

I've been reading as many pregnancy books as my local library can provide me with, and that's been going well. But I picked up a real stinker this past week called The Girlfriend's Guide to Pregnancy, and much of it's contents got me to thinking about how women view themselves physically when they become pregnant. I am going to pick on this book a lot, but my reason is because I'm afraid that a lot of women feel the same way and relate to the issues raised in The Girlfriend's Guide to Pregnancy. It's a really popular book, from what I understand.

Now, I'm not without my insecurities, pregnant or no. I much don't care for my extra padding all around, and my good intentions to go without coloring my hair while pregnant have been strained by my four month old roots and grays peeking through. But overall, I'm pregnant because I want to be. And being a mother holds a lot more water with me than being traditionally "pretty" by some kind of society standards. Some days I have to remind myself of this more than other days. Perhaps because of drivel like this (and yeah, the author takes liberties with her all caps button):

"DO NOT CUT YOUR HAIR OFF WHEN YOU ARE PREGNANT! Don't forget, your face is pregnant, now, too, and you need bone structure to pull off that look." "And your husband, whose nerves are pretty raw at this point, will probably snap if you cut your hair, since we all know most men prefer long hair under any circumstances..."

My first thought when reading this was to look at the publishing date. It's 1995, not 1953 as I was hoping. An old, dated book or some kind of sick joke are the only two things that could explain this kind of bizarre, self-loathing garbage. So, pregnant ladies shouldn't sport a short hair cut because they have fat faces and their husbands will be pissed? What kind of jackass has this woman decided to spawn with?

"If I were to have let my hair return to its natural brown and gray condition every time I was pregnant, my children might have been spared some indirect contact with chemicals, but they would have also been born to a single parent, because my husband surely would have left me after the first two inches of the "real me" had grown out."

I mean, really. Do we need to call the authorities on this guy for emotional abuse, or does the author just need lots of therapy for her extremely low self esteem?

There aren't any definitive answers available on the whole "hair color while pregnant" topic. Lots of people do it, and their babies are just fine. Others choose to forgo any additional chemicals while pregnant, just in case. Either way, it's a personal decision and I would hate to think that there are pregnant women out there who go against what they feel comfortable with because they fear being seen as ugly by their partners, friends, or strangers.

The author takes lots of jabs at her own perceived fatness: "I just have a hard time reconciling my own pregnant dimensions with the size-four clothes in my closet." Yet devotes an entire chapter on why exercise should be completely avoided during pregnancy. No, seriously. Here are her completely ridiculous reasons.

1. You will be too tired
2. You will not look good in your leotard
3. You will get fat anyway
4. Exercise will not help you in labor or delivery
5. You might endanger the pregnancy
6. Even of you don't endanger the pregnancy, if something goes wrong you will forever wonder if exercising caused it.
7. It's "nine months up nine months down" in the weight gaining department, no matter what you do.
8. Our compulsion to exercise when we are pregnant is a reflection of our inability to surrender and let nature run it's course.

See, what her list says to me is that the sole purpose of exercise is to make us thin, and what's the use when pregnant? The truth is, pregnancy-modified exercise routines are not only acceptable, they are encouraged to help keep pregnancy discomfort down, reduce stress, boost energy, prepare for childbirth, keep blood pressure in check, sleep better, and more. As far as her #8, I certainly don't have a "compulsion to exercise". I hate exercising. But I do it because I want to feel better even if I'm just walking or stretching. How many well-meaning pregnant women have read this chapter and decided to just sit down for nine months in fear of hurting themselves or their kid? How many suffered for even lower self esteem when they started to feel shitty from not moving their body a little bit? Again, exercising while pregnant is a personal decision that should be made by the individual, not by some unqualified, fat obsessed crazy lady.

As a woman, I sometimes struggle with physical insecurities. I probably always will. But I also vow to continuously remind myself why the content of my character is more important than my book cover. Or something like that. And when that doesn't cut it, I'll list out things I like about physical appearance. Here are a few reasons why pregnancy has been cool for my self esteem so far.

1. My hair is thicker than it's been since high school. Considering the fact that I have a supposedly permanent case of diffuse pattern Alopecia Areata, it's real nice to have thicker hair and not deal with pesky handfuls of hair after shampooing. My dermatologist told me that pregnancy would probably make it go into hiding, so I'll just enjoy it while I can. Thank you, hormones!

2. My nails are strong as... er, nails. I'm usually a biter, but not anymore. My nails are in the best shape they're ever been. Thank you, hormones!

3. My skin isn't as dry as before. Sure, I could really do without the cleavage acne, but I'm loving the slightly dewy complexion that's happening right now. Thank you, hormones!

This post turned more ranty that I meant for it to. So I'll simply end with this. Pregnant ladies, let's all vow to love our bodies for what they do for us and our babies. And if we have people in our lives that make us feel ugly simply for being ourselves, let's choose to hang out with different people then, okay? Okay.

17 weeks 5 days.

This morning's appointment had me feeling a little like Rosemary Woodhouse. Sometimes it's a lot of stress to be this hormonal.

"There are plots against people, aren't there?"

First let me start off by saying that I know this shit isn't right. I am not normally so sensitive, and I certainly don't cry at the drop of a hat. That is, until recently. I hate blaming actions on things such as hormones. It sounds like such a cop out. But I knew something was up when Ken and I went to a restaurant for dinner last weekend, and I started crying in the car because the restaurant was too crowded and didn't have the vegetarian options listed on their website. Crying? Over tacos? Oh, it gets better.

So the appointment this morning. I haven't been to the doc for a month, and I never know what to expect because they never tell me anything. Seriously, I usually have to drag information out of these people as they're running by me. I knew from friends that the big ultrasound where they check the spine, organs, and can possibly find out the gender is around 20 weeks. Also keep in mind that they have performed an ultrasound at every single visit up to this point. Five ultrasounds, people. This has me under the impression that an ultrasound is typical for an appointment. I've never done this before, what the hell do I know?

I go in and the nurse weighs me and takes my BP. I ask her if I can wait until after the ultrasound to give the urine sample, since the bladder needs to be full for them to see best. Her response was, "What makes you think you are getting an ultrasound?" I told her that I didn't know, then asked what we were supposed to be doing today if not an ultrasound. "Just a check up", she told me. "You were supposed to have scheduled your 20 week ultrasound already. It's done at a different location". My response, "I was? Nobody told me that." She said, "Well, it's probably not your fault." Then she huffed around while checking my vitals. I asked her what my starting weight was, so I could know how much weight I've gained total, and she informed me that she can't look right now, but she would tell me in a minute. She didn't.

We went to the little room to wait for the doctor, and Ken tells me he's sorry, because he knew I was hoping for an ultrasound. Honestly, I really don't understand having to drag my ass out there for them to just weigh me and take my urine. Is there really nothing else for them to check after a month? Anyway, I started crying because I felt like the nurse was trying to imply that I didn't know what was going on when I should have. I was also pissed that no one had told me to make the 20 week appointment. It's "probably" not my fault? How about it's not my damn fault, lady? So just as I start crying, the nurse walks in to tell me more about this 20 week appointment which I should have already scheduled at the other location. She sees that I'm upset, and asks why. I told her that I feel like I'm not being given the information that I need. "Well, did you get the book at your first appointment?" she asks. You mean the notebook of general information on pregnancy, and nothing really specific about what to expect at each visit? Yeah, I got it. This pisses me off more, so I cry more.

Then the doctor walks in and wants to know what's going on. The nurse blurts out, "She's upset because she's not getting an ultrasound". I tell him that's not why I'm upset, but now I'm more pissed and embarrassed, so I cry more. He's a really nice guy with a much better beside manner than Miss "See You In Tahiti" nurse, so he says, "Hey, an ultrasound will only take 5 minutes, why don't we do one for you?" Tahiti nurse then leaves the room.

I start apologizing to the doctor for crying, letting him know that it's unlike me, etc. He tells me that hormones make pregnant women cry at everything, and not to worry about it. I really felt bad, because I didn't want him to think I was trying to manipulate the situation by making a scene. I don't play like that. I felt terrible. But the guy did an ultrasound with a smile, and spent a lot of time on it, too. He said we could look for the gender, but the ultrasound machine at this location isn't as sensitive. We tried real hard to tell the gender, but the baby was moving around way too much to see for sure. It almost looked like a boy, but doc couldn't confirm if what he saw was the baby's peenee or part of the umbilical cord. So we shall find out for sure (hopefully) when we go to our "real" ultrasound later on.

Here's what crying got me. Picture time.



Bottom of the feet. He/she was moving around a whole lot. Flips and everything.



Here's the kicker. This afternoon I called to schedule the 20 week ultrasound, and the scheduler said, "You should have scheduled this earlier. We're booked up through December." Of course. But after much prodding, they squeezed me in between two other appointments the first week of November.

I want tacos. And chocolate cake.