...what's up with me and pregnancy related incidents in gas stations? (Note: one of the pieces of advice from the last post was given to me as I was checking out at a Speedway in Dayton)
Today, Coleman, Andy, Jen, and I were driving to South Bend for a conference. We stopped at a gas station to visit the facilities (shocking, right?), and as Coleman, Jen, and I are walking toward the door, a random man getting in his car yells out to us, " 'Bout ready to have that baby, aren't ya?"
I responded, "Well, not as ready as I guess I look. We've still got a few weeks."
His reply: "Wow."
Was that 'wow' really necessary?? It certainly didn't sound flattering. It's not like I'm gigantic or waddling around unrecognizable (yes, I acknowledge that this is an unfair statement since I haven't posted a belly pic in forever, but for once it's not my fault. I had Coleman take one but now we can't find the cord to upload it from the camera to the computer. I'm working on it! Until then, you'll have to trust me.).
Jen just kind of laughed and shook her head. Coleman's comment was, "Aren't you used to that stuff by now?" Apparently, he has been keeping up with the blog - and yes, I am pretty used to it by now.
Thursday, May 28, 2009
Random Advice
The following is a list of advice and/or personal stories given or told to me at various times and in various places by complete and total strangers. I have arranged them, generally, in order from tamest or most helpful to oddest or least appropriate to hear from a complete stranger:
- "When the baby goes down [for a nap], you go down."
- "Get all the sleep you can, while you can. You're not going to sleep again for 18 years, and maybe not even then."
- "Water is nature's epidural."
- "...And my poor husband was just standing there, shivering, in the shower with me while he aimed the shower head at my uterus."
- "Remember, we're just like other mammals. There is a reason why a cat doesn't have kittens in the middle of the kitchen floor in the daytime. She goes to a dark, quiet place to have her litter."
- "I like the name we chose for our son. Actually, my husband chose it. Have you ever seen that movie Pet Cemetery? Well, there's this little boy who is hit by a truck and dies. His name is Gage. That's where he got our son's name."
- "Are you going to breastfeed? Good. That's best. But you're going to have really sore nipples. My doctor told me that sun is great for that - it helps dry them out. So I just found a window where no one would see me and I'd stand there and just bake 'em."
Friday, May 22, 2009
Developmental Whatnots - Weeks 34 and 35
A recap of Week 34 (last week) and overview of Week 35 (starts today):
Week 34: Basically, I can start having vision problems at this point, which I am so pleased to hear. Blurred vision would greatly complement my increased clumsiness and my deteriorating memory. I tried to tell someone Coleman's phone number yesterday and had to ask him about a few digits. He looked at me as if I were insane. I'm not insane - just hormonally imbalanced!
And speaking of hormone imbalances, What To Expect didn't need to tell me this - it's freaking hot!! Even when Coleman assures me that it's not actually that bad, I'm usually overheated and complaining about the temp. This is from the girl who has a space heater under my desk at work that I use in the summer because I'm always cold. Not anymore! My coworker, who is in her 60s, is thrilled with this development because we're finally on the same page about the thermostat.
It's only in the mid 80s here, and I'm dying. Hats off to all of you women who have been pregnant through Texas summers. Apparently, you're better women than I am.
I've been shocking my poor, modest husband with the various states of undress in which I have been wandering around the apartment. I just can't take it! I can't even sleep with a sheet anymore, much less anything heavier. Now, that's not true - I do pull the sheet up to my ankles. Why, I cannot tell you, but there you have it.
But enough about me. I know you're all really reading for the 4-1-1 on the plus one. Well, she is probably about 5 pounds by now and could be as long as 20 inches. Please, please, please let her get her father's height genes instead of mine! I don't want to impose my own dreams on my children, but if she could just be 5'9". . .
A little side note of interest: clearly, she won't have testicles, but if she were a boy, they would be descending during this week. I found that fascinating, even if it doesn't apply to us.
Oh, and her fingernails have probably reached the ends of her fingers by now. Little tiny fingernails on little tiny fingers (or, if she's like her mom, long fingernails on really long fingers). . .I can't wait to see them!
Week 35 (this week): Not too much in the way of detail, but she should be getting up to 5 and a half pounds and it seems that her brain is growing and developing "rapidly." Yeah it is!! I'm sure (as most parents are, I assume) that she's going to have such a smart little brain and we can't wait to fill it! However, since she's head down, this means even more pressure on Mommy's bladder and even more frequent urination.
I wasn't aware that there could be "more" pressure and it hardly seems possible that I could pee more often than I already do. I should just move my desk down to the ladies' room to save time (ha - makes me think of when Jim moved Dwight's desk into the bathroom on The Office...). If, as they say, washing your hands often is the best prevention against swine flu, it's a pretty safe bet that I'm going to be the last person on the planet to get it, since they're getting clean every single time I make a pit stop.**
The plus one seems to be doing great - lots of movement. She finally started to hiccup, but I've only been able to feel it twice.
And speaking of movement, I have a couple of things to add to the Things Baby Likes list:
1) Mass (Isn't she quite the ecumenical fetus? First the Episcopal service and now this...)
2) Birthing classes (Perhaps she just enjoyed having plenty of uninterrupted time, since we sat around for 12 hours over 2 days, but maybe she knew we were talking about her and was showing off!)
And I know I owe you all a belly shot - I'll get to it soon, I promise. Prepare yourselves, though - it's going to be a doozy!
**I had to take a potty break in the middle of writing this post, actually.
Week 34: Basically, I can start having vision problems at this point, which I am so pleased to hear. Blurred vision would greatly complement my increased clumsiness and my deteriorating memory. I tried to tell someone Coleman's phone number yesterday and had to ask him about a few digits. He looked at me as if I were insane. I'm not insane - just hormonally imbalanced!
And speaking of hormone imbalances, What To Expect didn't need to tell me this - it's freaking hot!! Even when Coleman assures me that it's not actually that bad, I'm usually overheated and complaining about the temp. This is from the girl who has a space heater under my desk at work that I use in the summer because I'm always cold. Not anymore! My coworker, who is in her 60s, is thrilled with this development because we're finally on the same page about the thermostat.
It's only in the mid 80s here, and I'm dying. Hats off to all of you women who have been pregnant through Texas summers. Apparently, you're better women than I am.
I've been shocking my poor, modest husband with the various states of undress in which I have been wandering around the apartment. I just can't take it! I can't even sleep with a sheet anymore, much less anything heavier. Now, that's not true - I do pull the sheet up to my ankles. Why, I cannot tell you, but there you have it.
But enough about me. I know you're all really reading for the 4-1-1 on the plus one. Well, she is probably about 5 pounds by now and could be as long as 20 inches. Please, please, please let her get her father's height genes instead of mine! I don't want to impose my own dreams on my children, but if she could just be 5'9". . .
A little side note of interest: clearly, she won't have testicles, but if she were a boy, they would be descending during this week. I found that fascinating, even if it doesn't apply to us.
Oh, and her fingernails have probably reached the ends of her fingers by now. Little tiny fingernails on little tiny fingers (or, if she's like her mom, long fingernails on really long fingers). . .I can't wait to see them!
Week 35 (this week): Not too much in the way of detail, but she should be getting up to 5 and a half pounds and it seems that her brain is growing and developing "rapidly." Yeah it is!! I'm sure (as most parents are, I assume) that she's going to have such a smart little brain and we can't wait to fill it! However, since she's head down, this means even more pressure on Mommy's bladder and even more frequent urination.
I wasn't aware that there could be "more" pressure and it hardly seems possible that I could pee more often than I already do. I should just move my desk down to the ladies' room to save time (ha - makes me think of when Jim moved Dwight's desk into the bathroom on The Office...). If, as they say, washing your hands often is the best prevention against swine flu, it's a pretty safe bet that I'm going to be the last person on the planet to get it, since they're getting clean every single time I make a pit stop.**
The plus one seems to be doing great - lots of movement. She finally started to hiccup, but I've only been able to feel it twice.
And speaking of movement, I have a couple of things to add to the Things Baby Likes list:
1) Mass (Isn't she quite the ecumenical fetus? First the Episcopal service and now this...)
2) Birthing classes (Perhaps she just enjoyed having plenty of uninterrupted time, since we sat around for 12 hours over 2 days, but maybe she knew we were talking about her and was showing off!)
And I know I owe you all a belly shot - I'll get to it soon, I promise. Prepare yourselves, though - it's going to be a doozy!
**I had to take a potty break in the middle of writing this post, actually.
Tuesday, May 19, 2009
A quick note about Coleman
I have a wonderful husband.
Even though we had to spend a good deal of the spring semester apart, he has always been interested in hearing and reading about the developmental progress of the plus one. Whenever he was around, and even more so now that he's around all the time, he always wants to feel the baby moving and it never ceases to affect him when she does ("giddy" is probably the most apt description I can offer).
He talks to the belly (we used to do this on speakerphone when he was in Richmond, but now he can do this in person) and he reads to it.
He is always willing to give me a massage or a foot rub and he never complains about having to fit into our small bed with me, my belly, and my pillow nest.
He regularly tells me I'm "doing a good job with all the baby-making" and encourages me by telling me that I'm going to be a great mom.
He lies to me constantly and tells me how beautiful I am and how cute I look pregnant. I encourage this dishonesty wholeheartedly!
He lovingly told me to go ahead and buy a fancy maternity dress that I found (really on sale, but still quite pricey compared to what I normally spend on clothes) because I had nothing to wear to my cousin's wedding a week and a half ago, and then he lovingly agreed to overnight it to me when I left it in Dayton. Oops... He could have been really hacked off at me, but he wasn't. I appreciated it, especially since I was already so peeved at myself.
He unselfishly told me to use a gift card he received for Christmas for maternity clothes and baby clothes. He's pretty great like that.
While I was out of town, he spent quite a bit of time cleaning and organizing the apartment, including the baby stuff that we're not really sure where it's all going to go! Who says women have to be the ones to "nest"? He even took the time to make me a cd to replace a beloved mixed tape once made for me by my friend Elizabeth, just so we could get rid of an old portable stereo whose cd player no longer works but was the only remaining tape deck I had. (In the interest of full disclosure, he got no small joy from being able to get rid of this, but the point is that he spent so much time on something that would make me happy and that would allow me to be comfortable acquiescing to the stereo's removal.)
He attended 12 hours of birthing classes this weekend, and is currently reading a book on dad-coached childbirth. He's been assuring me that he'll do whatever I need to support me during delivery, and affirms my choices and my priorities - whether about pregnancy, labor, breastfeeding, whatever... I truly appreciate the trust and confidence he has in me and my convictions, and the credit he gives me for having read and talked and learned about these things enough to know that I'm doing the right things for us. He has somehow struck a remarkable balance between being kinder and gentler with me when I have needed it without making me feel like pregnancy is a "condition" or that I'm in need of being taken care of. I've never felt stronger or more powerful as a woman, and he affirms that and doesn't minimize it (even though he's gotten in a few wisecracks about "women's intuition" being a crock - sorry baby, but I couldn't get too sappy here without a little tattling...).
Now, I'm not claiming that he doesn't still make me crazy sometimes (and I'm certain he'd say the same about me), but he tells me all the time that he loves me more than ever, that he's excited about this next stage in our lives, and that we're going to have a wonderful family. I hope everyone reading this has someone who tells them things like this regularly. It makes life pretty good.
And life is good.
Just thought you all should know...
Even though we had to spend a good deal of the spring semester apart, he has always been interested in hearing and reading about the developmental progress of the plus one. Whenever he was around, and even more so now that he's around all the time, he always wants to feel the baby moving and it never ceases to affect him when she does ("giddy" is probably the most apt description I can offer).
He talks to the belly (we used to do this on speakerphone when he was in Richmond, but now he can do this in person) and he reads to it.
He is always willing to give me a massage or a foot rub and he never complains about having to fit into our small bed with me, my belly, and my pillow nest.
He regularly tells me I'm "doing a good job with all the baby-making" and encourages me by telling me that I'm going to be a great mom.
He lies to me constantly and tells me how beautiful I am and how cute I look pregnant. I encourage this dishonesty wholeheartedly!
He lovingly told me to go ahead and buy a fancy maternity dress that I found (really on sale, but still quite pricey compared to what I normally spend on clothes) because I had nothing to wear to my cousin's wedding a week and a half ago, and then he lovingly agreed to overnight it to me when I left it in Dayton. Oops... He could have been really hacked off at me, but he wasn't. I appreciated it, especially since I was already so peeved at myself.
He unselfishly told me to use a gift card he received for Christmas for maternity clothes and baby clothes. He's pretty great like that.
While I was out of town, he spent quite a bit of time cleaning and organizing the apartment, including the baby stuff that we're not really sure where it's all going to go! Who says women have to be the ones to "nest"? He even took the time to make me a cd to replace a beloved mixed tape once made for me by my friend Elizabeth, just so we could get rid of an old portable stereo whose cd player no longer works but was the only remaining tape deck I had. (In the interest of full disclosure, he got no small joy from being able to get rid of this, but the point is that he spent so much time on something that would make me happy and that would allow me to be comfortable acquiescing to the stereo's removal.)
He attended 12 hours of birthing classes this weekend, and is currently reading a book on dad-coached childbirth. He's been assuring me that he'll do whatever I need to support me during delivery, and affirms my choices and my priorities - whether about pregnancy, labor, breastfeeding, whatever... I truly appreciate the trust and confidence he has in me and my convictions, and the credit he gives me for having read and talked and learned about these things enough to know that I'm doing the right things for us. He has somehow struck a remarkable balance between being kinder and gentler with me when I have needed it without making me feel like pregnancy is a "condition" or that I'm in need of being taken care of. I've never felt stronger or more powerful as a woman, and he affirms that and doesn't minimize it (even though he's gotten in a few wisecracks about "women's intuition" being a crock - sorry baby, but I couldn't get too sappy here without a little tattling...).
Now, I'm not claiming that he doesn't still make me crazy sometimes (and I'm certain he'd say the same about me), but he tells me all the time that he loves me more than ever, that he's excited about this next stage in our lives, and that we're going to have a wonderful family. I hope everyone reading this has someone who tells them things like this regularly. It makes life pretty good.
And life is good.
Just thought you all should know...
Thursday, May 14, 2009
A couple of random things
1) Baby Fannin loves to fly. Party, party, party in there.
2) When I was standing at the front of the plane, waiting to be seated on my flight from Austin to DFW on my way back home, the [male] flight attendant looked at me and then offered me a seatbelt extender.
I declined.
As you can imagine, I was less than thrilled.
He said they have to ask; however, I took 2 flights to Richmond and 2 flights home just a couple of weeks ago, and I had already taken 2 flights to Texas 5 days before, and on none of those did anyone imply that a normal seatbelt would not get halfway around my body.
Meanie.
3) I've been having all these random hiccups. Isn't the baby supposed to be the one getting hiccups??
2) When I was standing at the front of the plane, waiting to be seated on my flight from Austin to DFW on my way back home, the [male] flight attendant looked at me and then offered me a seatbelt extender.
I declined.
As you can imagine, I was less than thrilled.
He said they have to ask; however, I took 2 flights to Richmond and 2 flights home just a couple of weeks ago, and I had already taken 2 flights to Texas 5 days before, and on none of those did anyone imply that a normal seatbelt would not get halfway around my body.
Meanie.
3) I've been having all these random hiccups. Isn't the baby supposed to be the one getting hiccups??
Tuesday, May 12, 2009
It's all in the family (ew...)
I'm still in Texas, hanging out with the fam.
I came down for my cousin Landon's wedding, which was both beautiful and a whole lot of fun. Tons of folks were dancing, even (or especially!) on the fast songs. My cousin Brittany wanted me to get out there, so I said okay and we started dancing up a storm.
I didn't realize it at the time, but I seem to have made quite an impression. Apparently, an 8+ month pregnant woman doing "Shout" on a dance floor is a spectacle. My Aunt Mileta said that people kept saying, "Have you seen your niece dancing out there??"
Oops. Oh well.
Anyway, I'll get you details on the family shower later, but I did have one disturbing little vignette to share. When we were driving back to Salado on Monday (by "we" I mean Mom, Dad, myself, the two dogs, and all our luggage and all the shower gifts - we looked like the Joads and I had the Beverly Hillbillies theme song stuck in my head since the trip up on Saturday), we stopped at the Bell Mead Starbucks. Mom had been trying to take a nap all the way down, so she stayed in the car while Dad and I went in to go to the bathroom and grab a drink. After we'd used the facilities, we got in line to order. The girl in front of us was getting an employment application, and when she got it, she turned around and asked me "how many months" I was (no one has ever asked me quite like that before). I told her, and she smiled and said, "Congratulations. I'm so happy for you both."
Excuse me??
I laughed and said (very quickly), "Yeah, this is my dad." I was nice about it, but I wanted things cleared up right away. She looked horrified, and I tried to reassure her, but I'm not sure that I did. The barrista who was on the register heard all this and was laughing, too. I told him that I felt bad if I'd made her feel awkward, but seriously. There is a 29 year difference between my father and me.
When the barrista took our order, he wrote our names on the cups. He told Dad he was just going to write, "Granddad" on his.
Dad was quite pleased, however. He has declared that his new Nivea "youthful" face stuff is working and was quite proud that she could have been thus confused. I was horrified.
Moreover, my hands had felt a little tight that morning, so I hadn't put on my wedding rings for the drive home, so not only was there a near-30 year age difference between us, but we weren't even married!
We decided that Mom wasn't going to stay in the car anymore...
I came down for my cousin Landon's wedding, which was both beautiful and a whole lot of fun. Tons of folks were dancing, even (or especially!) on the fast songs. My cousin Brittany wanted me to get out there, so I said okay and we started dancing up a storm.
I didn't realize it at the time, but I seem to have made quite an impression. Apparently, an 8+ month pregnant woman doing "Shout" on a dance floor is a spectacle. My Aunt Mileta said that people kept saying, "Have you seen your niece dancing out there??"
Oops. Oh well.
Anyway, I'll get you details on the family shower later, but I did have one disturbing little vignette to share. When we were driving back to Salado on Monday (by "we" I mean Mom, Dad, myself, the two dogs, and all our luggage and all the shower gifts - we looked like the Joads and I had the Beverly Hillbillies theme song stuck in my head since the trip up on Saturday), we stopped at the Bell Mead Starbucks. Mom had been trying to take a nap all the way down, so she stayed in the car while Dad and I went in to go to the bathroom and grab a drink. After we'd used the facilities, we got in line to order. The girl in front of us was getting an employment application, and when she got it, she turned around and asked me "how many months" I was (no one has ever asked me quite like that before). I told her, and she smiled and said, "Congratulations. I'm so happy for you both."
Excuse me??
I laughed and said (very quickly), "Yeah, this is my dad." I was nice about it, but I wanted things cleared up right away. She looked horrified, and I tried to reassure her, but I'm not sure that I did. The barrista who was on the register heard all this and was laughing, too. I told him that I felt bad if I'd made her feel awkward, but seriously. There is a 29 year difference between my father and me.
When the barrista took our order, he wrote our names on the cups. He told Dad he was just going to write, "Granddad" on his.
Dad was quite pleased, however. He has declared that his new Nivea "youthful" face stuff is working and was quite proud that she could have been thus confused. I was horrified.
Moreover, my hands had felt a little tight that morning, so I hadn't put on my wedding rings for the drive home, so not only was there a near-30 year age difference between us, but we weren't even married!
We decided that Mom wasn't going to stay in the car anymore...
Thursday, May 7, 2009
Baseball brings us all together
Last night our awesome friends, Andy and Jen, gave us Dragons tickets that they weren't able to use (sidebar: As some of you know or have seen when you visited us, the Dayton Dragons are the single A farm team for the Reds and have a sweet stadium right downtown. They have incredible fan and community support, and you have to get on a waiting list to even have a chance to buy season tickets! The last couple of years, Andy and Jen and Coleman and I have had a share of a season ticket set (4 tickets for 7 games), but even though we love the Dragons, we decided we couldn't really do it again this year because of the timing of Baby Fannin's arrival. So, this was a treat for us to get to use the tickets - thanks, you guys!).
Anywho, apart from the chilly weather, the hour and ten minute rain delay, and all the wet seats, it was a great game against the Clinton Lumberkings. Coleman speculated that Clinton must be near one of the bigger cities in Iowa, and I had to ask, "What big cities in Iowa did you have in mind?" Ah, Midwest humor...
My favorite part of the evening, however, had nothing to do with the game. Coleman was gone from our seats for a little while and a little girl sitting in the row in front of us, about 4 or 5 seats down, turned to ask me where my dad was - actually, her mom had to translate, as she had not yet mastered the finer points of enunciation. Her mom and I both laughed at this question. Either she thought that it's just normal for all girls to go the ballgame with their dads or (horror) she saw me with Coleman and relied on the most immediate male-female relationship she knew and assumed (ew) Coleman was my dad. Whatever.
So I told her that my dad was in Texas. "He's not at home?" Yes, I told her, that's where his home is, but that I'd get to see him this weekend, though. She kept asking me questions and then wondered if she could come sit by me. Adorable, right? So she's sitting by me and her big sister is turned around talking to us, too. Maddie, as it turns out, is 4 and her sister, Haley, is 6. She loves Dora, and shows me her Dora shoes. We start talking about girls and sisters when their mom asks me how long until the baby arrives and I told them that I was having a little girl, too.
They were very interested in this, and so I told them that they might be able to feel where she was. So they've both got their hands on my belly as I'm pointing out how she is positioned and where her head, bottom, and feet are. They were enthralled. And then Maddie, still not quite getting where everything was, put her hand on my right breast and said, "So is her head up here?" It was all I could do not to laugh, but I didn't want to embarrass her, so I just moved her hand back down to my belly and walked her through it again. She wanted to know where everything was - eyes, nose, ears - I think we have a future doctor on our hands (perhaps an ENT), as long as we get over that whole baby in the breast confusion.
They wanted to know if we were going to name her Haley or Maddie, and when I said those were beautiful names, but we were going to name her something different, they wanted to know what we were going to call her. I tried to explain that it was a secret, but you can't tell that to a 4 year-old and a 6 year-old. So yes, there are two children somewhere out there in Dayton who know the name of our unborn daughter. For the rest of you, though, it's still under wraps!
In other news, Baby Fannin LOVES Dragons games. She was having quite the baseball party in my belly last night - major movement over a sustained period of time. As I told her, if she likes sitting through baseball games, she will fit in with my family just fine. Perhaps she was just practicing her batting stance in there, huh Dad? I know, I know - get in there, choke up, keep your eye on the ball, pick one out and give it a ride - I know.
Anywho, apart from the chilly weather, the hour and ten minute rain delay, and all the wet seats, it was a great game against the Clinton Lumberkings. Coleman speculated that Clinton must be near one of the bigger cities in Iowa, and I had to ask, "What big cities in Iowa did you have in mind?" Ah, Midwest humor...
My favorite part of the evening, however, had nothing to do with the game. Coleman was gone from our seats for a little while and a little girl sitting in the row in front of us, about 4 or 5 seats down, turned to ask me where my dad was - actually, her mom had to translate, as she had not yet mastered the finer points of enunciation. Her mom and I both laughed at this question. Either she thought that it's just normal for all girls to go the ballgame with their dads or (horror) she saw me with Coleman and relied on the most immediate male-female relationship she knew and assumed (ew) Coleman was my dad. Whatever.
So I told her that my dad was in Texas. "He's not at home?" Yes, I told her, that's where his home is, but that I'd get to see him this weekend, though. She kept asking me questions and then wondered if she could come sit by me. Adorable, right? So she's sitting by me and her big sister is turned around talking to us, too. Maddie, as it turns out, is 4 and her sister, Haley, is 6. She loves Dora, and shows me her Dora shoes. We start talking about girls and sisters when their mom asks me how long until the baby arrives and I told them that I was having a little girl, too.
They were very interested in this, and so I told them that they might be able to feel where she was. So they've both got their hands on my belly as I'm pointing out how she is positioned and where her head, bottom, and feet are. They were enthralled. And then Maddie, still not quite getting where everything was, put her hand on my right breast and said, "So is her head up here?" It was all I could do not to laugh, but I didn't want to embarrass her, so I just moved her hand back down to my belly and walked her through it again. She wanted to know where everything was - eyes, nose, ears - I think we have a future doctor on our hands (perhaps an ENT), as long as we get over that whole baby in the breast confusion.
They wanted to know if we were going to name her Haley or Maddie, and when I said those were beautiful names, but we were going to name her something different, they wanted to know what we were going to call her. I tried to explain that it was a secret, but you can't tell that to a 4 year-old and a 6 year-old. So yes, there are two children somewhere out there in Dayton who know the name of our unborn daughter. For the rest of you, though, it's still under wraps!
In other news, Baby Fannin LOVES Dragons games. She was having quite the baseball party in my belly last night - major movement over a sustained period of time. As I told her, if she likes sitting through baseball games, she will fit in with my family just fine. Perhaps she was just practicing her batting stance in there, huh Dad? I know, I know - get in there, choke up, keep your eye on the ball, pick one out and give it a ride - I know.
Tuesday, May 5, 2009
Woohoo!
I had an appointment today with the doc (I'm now going every two weeks until the last month when I'll go every week).
Two good pieces of baby news:
1. I only gained half a pound over the last 2 weeks!! They estimate a pound a week for the last several weeks, but over the past 4 weeks, I've only gained 2 pounds! Don't worry - I'm certainly not dieting - I'm eating plenty, but trying to eat well, and I am trying to stay active, so I'm quite pleased with my little "plateau" of weight gain. This should put me on track to have between 30 and 40 pounds of total weight gain. (I'm hoping for closer to 30 rather than 40...) Ideally, I'd love for those numbers to be lower, but what are you going to do? I was at a healthy weight to start with, so that's pretty normal - or so I have gathered from polling all my girlfriends.
2. Baby Fannin is already head down - or at least we're pretty sure. She's such a smart girl! I'm not sure when they need to be head down by, but I do know that we're getting to that point where I'd be worried about a breech birth and having to do a c-section if she weren't. We can't tell for sure that she's not sunny-side up, but my OB thinks she's not - so that's even more good news. I know things can still change a bit, but if I can avoid excessive back labor and a c-section, I'm going to be one happy girl!
Before today, I was pretty sure what position she was in, but not which direction. There was something big and solid right in the middle of my belly (a little on the left - my left), and there was something small and hard up toward the top of my belly, all the way over on my right side - almost in my ribs. And something would occasionally move really low, too, so I was pretty certain that her butt...pardon me, bottom - was in the middle, but I couldn't figure out if she were head down with feet in my ribs, or head up and I was feeling little fists or elbows in my ribs. Turns out it was probably feet.
I'm not sure if I'll have another ultrasound at this point, but that's what my OB said she was feeling as she was mashing around on my belly this morning.
Looking forward to seeing some of you soon, and then you can feel her moving for yourself!
Two good pieces of baby news:
1. I only gained half a pound over the last 2 weeks!! They estimate a pound a week for the last several weeks, but over the past 4 weeks, I've only gained 2 pounds! Don't worry - I'm certainly not dieting - I'm eating plenty, but trying to eat well, and I am trying to stay active, so I'm quite pleased with my little "plateau" of weight gain. This should put me on track to have between 30 and 40 pounds of total weight gain. (I'm hoping for closer to 30 rather than 40...) Ideally, I'd love for those numbers to be lower, but what are you going to do? I was at a healthy weight to start with, so that's pretty normal - or so I have gathered from polling all my girlfriends.
2. Baby Fannin is already head down - or at least we're pretty sure. She's such a smart girl! I'm not sure when they need to be head down by, but I do know that we're getting to that point where I'd be worried about a breech birth and having to do a c-section if she weren't. We can't tell for sure that she's not sunny-side up, but my OB thinks she's not - so that's even more good news. I know things can still change a bit, but if I can avoid excessive back labor and a c-section, I'm going to be one happy girl!
Before today, I was pretty sure what position she was in, but not which direction. There was something big and solid right in the middle of my belly (a little on the left - my left), and there was something small and hard up toward the top of my belly, all the way over on my right side - almost in my ribs. And something would occasionally move really low, too, so I was pretty certain that her butt...pardon me, bottom - was in the middle, but I couldn't figure out if she were head down with feet in my ribs, or head up and I was feeling little fists or elbows in my ribs. Turns out it was probably feet.
I'm not sure if I'll have another ultrasound at this point, but that's what my OB said she was feeling as she was mashing around on my belly this morning.
Looking forward to seeing some of you soon, and then you can feel her moving for yourself!
Monday, May 4, 2009
A Public Event
I went into this process thinking that pregnancy was a pretty private affair. You know, a little thing I share with this person growing inside me and that Coleman shares with both of us. Yes, your friends and family are happy for you and love you enough to be as involved as possible, but I still consider that the private sphere.
However, as I'm learning, a pregnant woman's body is seen as a public spectacle, or at least a communal event. I had heard Allison talk about people coming up to her at the hardware store and telling her the sex of her unborn child based on how she was "carrying," but I always kind of assumed that was just because it was Texas, and we all know how Texans pride themselves on bigness (even big bellies!).
I'm finding, though, that even here in the midwest, people interact with you in ways they never would if you weren't sporting a bulging midsection. People make comments about you within earshot. They strike up conversations and stare openly at your belly. And many people feel pretty free to reach out and touch my belly, or at least they touch first and then remember to ask permission. (I know you're dying inside, Allison.) The saleswoman ringing us up at Macy's did on Saturday, in fact. Before I was ever pregnant, I thought I would be all feminist about it and insist that a woman's body is not a public thing, but I'm learning to accept this communal attitude the more I experience it.
Does 'communal' make sense? I mean that in the sense of the women talking to me at the coffee shop or the little old man at the Wawa I told you about...or the people touching the belly...
...or the barrage of attention I received while I was running errands last Sunday. I'm telling you, all of these things happened within half an hour or 45 minutes of each other.
As I was walking into the shopping center where our Trader Joe's is, two women were walking out with children and one turned to the other (right next to me), and said very audibly, "Everybody's pregnant, aren't they?!"
Then, as I was leaving through those same automatic doors, a man coming in at the same time stepped aside as I exited and said, "Congratulations!" I was a little startled, but I thanked him.
I had barely walked the 20 or 30 feet to my car (yes, I did have rock star parking that day), and a middle-aged man calls out his open car window as he pulls into the empty space adjacent to mine, "Mama's gonna have a baby!" "That's right," said I, quite amused. "Congratulations!" he replied.
Then, the female clerk at the Speedway - where I stopped for a fountain drink detour on my 5 minute trip home - struck up a conversation with me as well. "When are you due?" "What are you having?" (as I told you before, I'm always tempted to say, "A baby.") She then told me all about how she had a boy first and how her mother tried to convince her that she was having a girl up to the day she delivered.
Maybe it's just that it's spring and people are coming back to life and feeling friendly, but I do think it has something to do with the social aspect of pregnancy and how people who may not have much else to bring them together as a real community still see this as a communal event.
It doesn't bother me at all, and mostly I just like to observe the effect it has on people. I'm happy to be able to build community, even if it's only for these short months.
And just so everyone knows, friends and family have a free pass and may touch my belly at any time without asking permission first. :o) In fact, if something entertaining is happening in there, I may just grab your hand and make you! And anyone else who asks permission first will almost certainly obtain it.
**In light of the guy calling out from his car window at Trader Joe's last weekend, you can imagine how horrified I was when, as Coleman and I were walking to the car this weekend, I heard a man call out his window, "Man, that's one big woman!" I walked around the back of the car, equal parts aghast and livid, to see what miserable wretch of a human being would say something like that to a pregnant woman. Coleman, on the other hand, without even turning around, says, "Is that Gabrielli?" As it turns out, it was a friend of ours who was just messing with me, but you can rest assured that I wasted no time reporting this to his wife (it turns out she'd already heard it - he came home and told her because he thought it was funny), and that she and I are both punishing him in the manner in which he deserves.
However, as I'm learning, a pregnant woman's body is seen as a public spectacle, or at least a communal event. I had heard Allison talk about people coming up to her at the hardware store and telling her the sex of her unborn child based on how she was "carrying," but I always kind of assumed that was just because it was Texas, and we all know how Texans pride themselves on bigness (even big bellies!).
I'm finding, though, that even here in the midwest, people interact with you in ways they never would if you weren't sporting a bulging midsection. People make comments about you within earshot. They strike up conversations and stare openly at your belly. And many people feel pretty free to reach out and touch my belly, or at least they touch first and then remember to ask permission. (I know you're dying inside, Allison.) The saleswoman ringing us up at Macy's did on Saturday, in fact. Before I was ever pregnant, I thought I would be all feminist about it and insist that a woman's body is not a public thing, but I'm learning to accept this communal attitude the more I experience it.
Does 'communal' make sense? I mean that in the sense of the women talking to me at the coffee shop or the little old man at the Wawa I told you about...or the people touching the belly...
...or the barrage of attention I received while I was running errands last Sunday. I'm telling you, all of these things happened within half an hour or 45 minutes of each other.
As I was walking into the shopping center where our Trader Joe's is, two women were walking out with children and one turned to the other (right next to me), and said very audibly, "Everybody's pregnant, aren't they?!"
Then, as I was leaving through those same automatic doors, a man coming in at the same time stepped aside as I exited and said, "Congratulations!" I was a little startled, but I thanked him.
I had barely walked the 20 or 30 feet to my car (yes, I did have rock star parking that day), and a middle-aged man calls out his open car window as he pulls into the empty space adjacent to mine, "Mama's gonna have a baby!" "That's right," said I, quite amused. "Congratulations!" he replied.
Then, the female clerk at the Speedway - where I stopped for a fountain drink detour on my 5 minute trip home - struck up a conversation with me as well. "When are you due?" "What are you having?" (as I told you before, I'm always tempted to say, "A baby.") She then told me all about how she had a boy first and how her mother tried to convince her that she was having a girl up to the day she delivered.
Maybe it's just that it's spring and people are coming back to life and feeling friendly, but I do think it has something to do with the social aspect of pregnancy and how people who may not have much else to bring them together as a real community still see this as a communal event.
It doesn't bother me at all, and mostly I just like to observe the effect it has on people. I'm happy to be able to build community, even if it's only for these short months.
And just so everyone knows, friends and family have a free pass and may touch my belly at any time without asking permission first. :o) In fact, if something entertaining is happening in there, I may just grab your hand and make you! And anyone else who asks permission first will almost certainly obtain it.
**In light of the guy calling out from his car window at Trader Joe's last weekend, you can imagine how horrified I was when, as Coleman and I were walking to the car this weekend, I heard a man call out his window, "Man, that's one big woman!" I walked around the back of the car, equal parts aghast and livid, to see what miserable wretch of a human being would say something like that to a pregnant woman. Coleman, on the other hand, without even turning around, says, "Is that Gabrielli?" As it turns out, it was a friend of ours who was just messing with me, but you can rest assured that I wasted no time reporting this to his wife (it turns out she'd already heard it - he came home and told her because he thought it was funny), and that she and I are both punishing him in the manner in which he deserves.
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