Every week, thousands of pregnant woman receive communication from websites they have signed up for. The email/text/app tells them what to expect from their bodies that week, as well as how the baby is developing at that stage. In almost all the updates, the baby is compared to a fruit or vegetable, just to show you how large he/she is by that week.
I just hit the 16 week mark yesterday (4 months for those of you who don’t speak in weeks). Baby Boley has just passed the avocado size this week. (Yes, I am aware that I am more melon sized than avocado, and no, I don’t believe twins are in there.)
But seriously, food is for eating, and I am not totally on board with it showing up in my prenatal updates. So I have decided to put food in its place. My mouth. This week, guacamole was a no-brainer. Especially on Superbowl sunday. Stay tuned for next week’s recipe that will feature a large onion. And if you hang around until July, you will get a lovely watermelon or pumpkin recipe.
I didn’t make this one up on my own, but I did add some cumin to the mix. If you are even slightly a fan of guac, I highly recommend this top recipe from All Recipes:
EDIT: It has come to my attention that this may be considered creepy–eating a food that is supposed to be your baby. Hmmm. Not what I intended, but I think I am going to stick with the recipe thing regardless. Don’t be scared!
I have not been doing laundry. Instead it turns out I’m only sort of doing laundry. I will start a load, and then fall asleep or act pathetic, and then Justin ends up finishing the job. Because the basement floor is cold, and I am kind of exhausted. Sometimes it gets folded, but more often it just kind of hangs out in a pile. It is really a sad situation. I don’t know why I am admitting this publicly, because I am not one bit proud it.
I think what I meant to write about here is what a good man my husband is. He has been in charge of a lot of the chores that I lost all motivation and energy to do during the first trimester. Luckily, I am feeling a bit more industrious in the last week, and even have little nesting urges here and there. I am hoping these urges turn into an all out hormone-fueled cleaning rampage for the rest of the pregnancy, because I really do like a clean house.
In the mean time I know I can count on Justin to make sure we aren’t living in a barnyard and eating off of last week’s pasta-sauce-crusted plates. The trash will be emptied. The litter box will be managed. Dry cleaning is dropped off and picked up. We won’t be wearing dirty underwear. And if we are out of hot sauce, toilet paper, or detergent, Justin is likely bundled up and walking to the Bodega.
I think I have really hit the jackpot. Help with the chores is great, but keep in mind that he is also going through his last semester of law school, bar registration, interviews, and a clerkship without showing any signs of stress. Does he complain? No. The only thing I hear is how much he loves his job. I THINK HE IS MAGICAL. I would seriously be balled up in a corner if I had to deal with all of that. Add a pregnant wife to the mix and I would be balled up on the street corner.
He has also thought up a theme for the nursery, talked about names endlessly, and discussed his excitement for being a dad on many occasions. The importance of camping and introducing the little one to animals has been talked about endlessly. I think he even admitted that he is not scared one bit of dirty diapers. (I just saw him catch a cat puke in mid-air last weekend without flinching). Last weekend, there was a possibility that we would purchase a station wagon, and the man was thrilled. It is seriously his dream car. (edit: “It was a TURBO station wagon, I’ll have you know..”)
He tells me I look cute even though I am a bit round (in the face and the belly). My coat has to be buttoned to keep the baby warm. Any anxiety I have, he calms. Bedtime is at 10, and he feels really bad if I am up past then. He doesn’t judge me for eating salt ‘n vinegar chips everyday for the last 3 weeks. He wants to know when the baby can hear him so he can start talking directly to my belly. And if he gets himself a bowl of ice cream, he knows to scoop for two because I will be stealing half of it. I could write ten more pages like this, but I will spare you.
I really don’t mean to brag, but obviously I think he is the best. He should teach husband classes. With fatherhood just around the corner, I can’t wait to see how he fits into that new role.
I have so much I want to write about that I am going to have to just start posting more. I can’t beat myself up every time I don’t have photos to go with the post.
I hope you don’t beat me up either. Think of the unborn baby.
But look here! I do actually have some photos today.
We had a slumber party on Sunday. Minus the slumber. The girls hung out during the day, watched bad movies/TV, ate cake, ate cake, ate cake, painted nails, read magazines. Really girly slumber-party-ish activities were had by all. We celebrated Amber’s birthday and we all watched her blow out the candles in our pajamas. This is the only time you will ever see her in a Piston’s sweatshirt. Guaranteed.
I don’t have many pictures of the lovely attendees, because it is a pajama party. And honestly, the cakes are way prettier than our sweatpants and headbands. At least in my case. My latest fashion, while walking around the house, is a pair of faded yoga pants covered in cat hair with the elastic cut out of the front of them to accomodate my belly. I am looking SO good in those. Nope.
Speaking of growing bellies, I have wanted to start a maternity photo series, but I haven’t figured out how to do it yet. The pie in the sky photos would be something as great as the two series here and here from Pacing the Panic room. Nothing else I have found is very inspiring or original. My goal is to have something whipped up in the next couple weeks before I start to get really huge. Wish me luck!
Just a quick update for all you interested in every detail of baby Boley’s stay in my abdomen:
I can’t move without wanting to rip my spine out.
You see, about 20 years ago I thought it would be fun to jump on a trampoline. Oh, and it was of course. But then I jumped and landed in an awkward position on my tailbone. No big deal, I thought. Being very young, I bounced back from this minor injury.
Years later, I had to go to a chiropractor (Dr. Bender!) to have major adjustments done to help the tailbone pain. Things were cracked and moved and adjusted. All was well. The pain went away.
NOW, there is a tiny human growing in my body. It just happens to be hanging out near the evil tailbone. My pelvis is shifting around and bones are moving to accomodate said baby. These bones and nerves are totally freaking out and the old injury is now back with vengeance. I know that many pregnant women experience back pain anyway, so combine that with the already messed up tailbone and you have searing, punch-me-in-the-back, take-my breath-away, stabbing pain and frustration.
If I lean forward even 2 degrees, I am stuck unless I want to feel like my lower spine is being ripped from my body. This makes sitting, standing, brushing teeth, feeding the cats, or picking up my purse a major obstacle. This kind of thing obviously can’t continue. I shouldn’t need help to put on a pair of socks until it is warm enough outside to hopefully not need them at all.
I am going to this place in about 20 minutes for a consultation. I don’t think that spine transplant is an option, but hopefully they can pummel my wretched back into submission, and also avoid causing any discomfort to the little lemon-sized baby that I am hauling around in there.
*Update: The doctor was awesome. they have a really great practice that recommends a regimen of integrated therapies for what ails you. They also have a really beautiful loft-space just a few blocks from my house, and tea in the waiting room. Not bad at all. It turns out that I have Sacroiliitis, which can be treated with 4-6 visits and a variety of therapies including massage. I plan on spending a lot of time there next week. Phew.
There are no pretty pictures to illustrate this post, but let me try and describe the scene for you:
As I sat in my cubical, surrounded by twinkle lights and stacks of marked-up designs that I needed to work on, I found my mind wandering. I swayed my hips hula-style on the exercise ball I recently commandeered from a hot blonde coworker that doesn’t have a rapidly (and painfully) widening pelvis. I took another bite of peanut butter from my spoon and slowly stretched my lower back while contemplating the extraordinary typing speed of my cube neighbor, Jess.
“I am eating peanut butter directly from the jar over here,” I yelled over the barrier.
“As you should be,” she reassured. She is very supportive of my caloric intake. I love her.
As I continued to munch on the glorious Jif, my mind wandered into my unknown future. Sometimes I wonder why I am not more stressed out. I mean, I am the only fully employed person in the house at the moment for one. Although this may soon change, I am not worried at the moment. I just have a good feeling about it, and am not freaked out in the slightest. Talk to me in a few months and maybe my tone will change, but right now I am freakishly calm.
I’m not one of those soon-to-be moms that’s been nesting in her new house or condo for the last few years ever since she got home from the honeymoon. I don’t have a mortgage, a nursery or even a clue where we will live come this Memorial day. But somehow, I’m not concerned. Good feelings.
Car? Nope. I need to get one of those sometime. I can’t say I am totally calm on this one but lets just mark it down as “OK” feelings.
Although I am lucky to have a great group of friends here in the city, no one in the core group is a parent yet. I admit to sometimes stressing about being the first one in our local circle to start a family. I wonder if my girlfriends will still like me when I am a mom or if we will suddenly have little in common. I also wonder if I will meet any new mom friends that will be my buddies as well. That would be great. I will try to have good feelings about this part as well.
The Birth with a capital “B”. Being a curious person by nature, I am over-researching. I am reading books and trolling the internet for birth stories. At the risk of appearing creepy, I confess I did this even pre-pregnancy. I just wanted to be informed. The main take-away from all the research comes down to a fairly simple idea. I can approach my labor and delivery with my plan and preferences, but in the end the best plan is to just let go. To let my body take over and try and let my mind take a backseat for once. It may not go perfectly, but I have a good feeling about it.
Actually being a parent. Of course I have my anxieties about it, but they are overshadowed by excitement at this point. And I am positive that Justin is going to be an amazing dad. Thinking about it makes my heart want to burst. I have to squeeze something really hard to divert energy and ensure that said bursting doesn’t actually occur. GOOD FEELINGS.
Don’t get me wrong about all this non-stress stuff. I am not blissfully unaware of the changes and challenges that will occur. And I am not about to approach parenthood without preparation. I am doing my research for what it is worth. But freaking out? No. I refuse. Everything is going to work out just fine. I just have a good feeling.
So, one of the things that people tell you when they find out that you are pregnant is that you should get a ton of sleep NOW. Because after the birth, you will be a zombie. OK, this is not really news to anyone. Is it? I mean, who really thinks that they are going to have a baby and then life will continue on as usual? Not me. Not most people, I hope.
I do admit that although I understand the concept of sleeplessness, I can’t really know what it will be like until I experience it myself.
Do I fear it? Yes. It’s one of my top anxieties about taking care of a baby.
When people constantly remind me of it does the fear become worse? Yes.
Is that their goal? Not sure. Probably not. Just seems like the thing to say to a pregnant lady I guess.
So, sleep now they say. Let’s not kid ourselves here. No matter how much sleep I get in the next six months, it isn’t going to do diddly squat for the level of exhaustion that will hit me after the birth. What I CAN do is appreciate the sleep that I get now. I can wallow in it, savor it, and take full advantage of sweet wonderful sleep while it is still around. I think that is what people are really intending when they offer up the “sleep now” advice.
Parents that have already been through the newborn phase have the advantage of perfect hindsight. They look at me and want me to stop whatever I am doing and take a nap. They want me to go offline and be in bed by 8. They are irritated if I am not in pajamas. They know how precious and luxurious the shut-eye is, and any soon-to-be parent that doesn’t is a fool in their eyes.
I promise not to be a fool. I try to enjoy the things in my life that are good at the moment. And the luxuries I have now will not be taken for granted. That is much of what this blog has been about since I started writing. People have asked if I will start a separate blog about the pregnancy or baby. I don’t think so. I will continue to write about what is good for me today. Sometimes that will be pregnancy related. When the baby arrives, I am sure there will be many good moments to share, as well as many big challenges. So yes, maybe by default Megagood is morphing into a mom blog. Because I am morphing into a mom.
Speaking of not taking things for granted, I had a lazy Sunday and fully appreciated it. After I woke up without an alarm or crying baby, I made tiny little pancakes and stacked them with Nutella and raspberry sauce. This was followed by a heavenly grapefruit and a NAP. Next was ample lounging with Justin, hours of cat spooning, and some uninterrupted photo editing and blogging. Ahhhhh. The good life.
I guess it is no surprise that my first real post pertaining to my pregnancy is about food.
I thought it might be something deeper about becoming a parent. Or my fears and hopes? How awesome Justin is? Or the intensity of my “baby fever?” I guess that will all come out in good time. But today I want to talk briefly about food.
Before we get too deep into Nutella and pickles, here are the answers to the questions that I have found people will inevitably ask:
Estimated Due Date: July 24, 2010
We will be finding out whether Baby Boley is a boy or a girl at the end of February or beginning of March at the “big” ultrasound. We already had a “little” ultrasound and saw a very tiny, very fast little heartbeat.
We will be moving to a new apartment in our current neighborhood or somewhere nearby on June 1. There are no plans for the burbs just yet . There will not be cat litter in the new nursery.
How do I feel? Well, to sum it up in a bullet point: Surprisingly Good. I will probably get into that more later, but I have not been plagued with much nausea or puking–beyond the public display in front of the deli at State and Lake last month–so I feel extremely lucky in that department.
Back to the food.
My first craving: Before I even knew I was pregnant, I really wanted marshmallow fluff and peanut butter sandwich. A Fluffernutter if you will. If you haven’t had one of these, I think you are missing out. But on the other hand, you are also missing out on a ton of calories and sugar, so good for you. But still, you are no fun at all.
This Fluffernutter craving seems like something that a typical pregnant lady might want, right? Not a big surprise there. Everyone “knows” at least two things about pregnancy thanks to TV or movies. #1-Pregnant ladies eat weird stuff and crave things like pickles and ice cream. #2-They have morning sickness. Those two things may or may not be true for everyone.
But most stories of pregnant women on the big (or small) screen have left out the million- and-one other symptoms and weirdness that goes along with growing a tiny human where your other organs used to reside. I guess that constipation, heartburn, and hemorrhoids are not as cute. Fatigue, acne, and nasal congestion are not romantic. And expanding thighs, bloating, and gas wouldn’t make even the sexiest starlet seem very attractive. So, they just aren’t really featured much in pop culture or entertainment for obvious reasons.
However, these lessor known symptoms are featured on the many websites and books about pregnancy that exist today. If you want to discuss your pregnancy related gastrointestinal issues at length, there is a message board (or hundred) for you!* But the only people reading those books or websites about pregnancy are other parents or parents-to-be. So it is understandable that morning sickness and cravings are the common questions that arise when it comes to how the mom-to-be is feeling. And I suppose I am OK with that. Because someone approaching me to inquire about my fat thighs or bowel movements is going to be sorry. Unless you are my mom, and then you get to know all kinds of unsavory details.
ANYWAYS, back to FOOD. So one thing that I wasn’t totally aware of were the food aversions that can occur. Like I said, I have been pretty lucky to avoid many of the nasties on the pregnancy symptoms list thus far, but food aversions was one that hit me hard. And for someone who clearly adores food, this is a sad situation.
For the first couple months, EVERY FOOD sounded gross and smelled worse. The thought of eating meat was less appealing than licking a stranger’s armpit on the train. Chicken was the enemy. Ground meat–so incredibly foul. Blue cheese and I had a very bad break-up after Justin put some in the microwave and stunk up the apartment for some god awful reason. Vegetables were off the menu. My daily Boca and Morningstar burgers were banished. Milk=blech. Needless to say, planning ahead for a meal or grocery shopping in advance of–oh let’s say 20 minutes was worthless.
My only savior was that each day, one specific food would pop into my head and become the one and only good thing to eat. The following day it would be likely be exiled with the rest of the lot, but for a brief moment it was amazing. Justin spent a lot of time at the local Bodega with a list of ingredients that were extremely important to find. I would have starved without him.
Luckily, my stomach became more accepting of other meals around the week of Christmas. I am now eating well and often, so no worries. Food is no longer a foe. We are such good friends again, that I have been open to such unconventional combinations such as this:
Yes, those are Hot n’ Spicy Cheezits on top of vanilla ice cream. It was awesome.
And in other non-pregnancy news, Justin’s nighttime reading now involves several books to learn more than anyone would want to know about bankruptcy law. Schween is “assisting” in this endeavor and runs to bed when she knows it is bankruptcy time. Here are my cute little freaks at bedtime:
Someday in the near future I promise to post a bedtime picture that involves Dr. Seuss and a child rather than a law-book and a poorly proportioned feline.
*I don’t recommend hanging out on pregnancy message boards unless you want to become paranoid beyond belief. They are a scary place.
Editing all the year’s photos down to a less than ten minute slideshow was full of pleasure and pain. The best part was seeing all the spring photos. I have hundreds of photos from May and June. The whole project really got me prematurely excited for warmer weather.
But, I had to cut a lot of photos out because of time constraints. If you have a LOT of time on your hands, and do want to see them all, just go here. However, I am pretty sure that nearly 10 minutes of DPH is more than enough for you to handle.
On a time budget? Just skip to the end for a special DPH that I haven’t been able to show you until now.
Happy New Year to you all.
p.s. Jordan–I apologize for the quality of the video. I already know you are disappointed in lack of HD-ness.
Where did I go? Why haven’t I posted? Well, l I wish I could tell you that my absence was due to a whirlwind tour of many exotic places where I ate amazing things and saw even more amazing sights. But, the truth is I just took a little break. There are no fabulous destinations to tell you about. Sorry. But the good news is that I am ready to get back to Megagood.
Also, I think that this week marks my 1 year blog anniversary! So I think that calls for cake of some kind. How exciting.
So since I last posted, there is a laundry list of things that have happened, but I would rather not try to recap them all in one post. That is not fun to write about, and even less fun to read. But a couple of notable happenings included Justin and I hosting a fabulous Thanksgiving for 17 people at our apartment, and Justin landing a clerkship for spring semester. THIS IS AWESOME! Let it also be known that this is his last semester, and may actually have a full-time job within the forseeable future. THIS IS ALSO VERY AWESOME.
So today I am just checking in here to let you know that I am not dead. (Is anyone even reading this anymore?) I will be posting regularly again. And Christmas is coming up, so there should be lots of magical pictures coming your way.
And I have a feeling that 2010 is going to be Megabetter than 2009. Stay tuned.
Here are some randoms that I just downloaded off my dusty camera:
The last two pictures are taken in the new French Market that opened up in Ogilvie train station. It is the best thing to happen to my commute.
There are two things about my memory: (1) It is primarily visual, and (2) it goes waaaayyyyyy back. I may have mentioned this before, but I can remember potty training. Not the whole ordeal of it of course, but I have scenes in my head that I can play back to myself, twenty some years later. I can remember the pattern of the wallpaper in my living room while sitting on the little training potty. The next part of the story is a little bit TMI, so I leave that part of the story in my head.
But the point was that I can access these little movie clips of my life at will. There is no clumsy remote or broken DVD player to worry about. I simply have to think of a period in my life and scenes line up in my own private theater for my viewing pleasure. Not that all of them are happy, feel-good films, or witty comedies. Some are very clearly in the drama category, and some are occasionally suspense or even horror.
Luckily, the horror genre of my memory does not offer a wide selection. I would like to keep it that way. However, some of the titles that do haunt me are:
Pet Bunny Gets Terminal Botflies
Priest Describes Horrible Things He Did to KITTENS When He Was a Boy to Fifth Grade Religion Class
ET Surely Lives in My Basement OMG I Have to Run Up the Stairs SO FAST or He Will GRAB MY ANKLES.
I also have my share of cooking show/Food network style flicks:
Boiling Water in Pyrex Dish: The Rise, the Fall, the Aftermath
Apple Pie Fail: A call for help.
Learning to Die with Dignity: Memoirs from the Jeanine Cake from Taste of Heaven
I could make lists of titles for days and days. But right now I want to mention some of the most vivid clips that are stuck in my mind. What is strange to me is that although some of these scenes correlate with very important moments in my life, some aren’t necessarily huge turning points. I just see them very clearly is all.
Again, I could go on forever. Lets start at the beginning:
I was bundled up for cold weather. I look down at the boards of the jungle gym at the playground behind our house in Virginia. My dad is going to catch me at the bottom of the slide, but first I have to get there without falling through the cracks in the jungle gym platform. They seemed so wide to me.
I am wearing Oshkosh forest-green corduroy overalls. I am feeling really proud of myself because I am totally able to dress myself with the easy closures on these bad boys. Until disaster strikes and one of the suspender thingys falls in the toilet as I am trying to manage everything by myself. I am sad that I have to ask for help. Crying ensues.
My baby brother has tiny hands that squeeze when I place my index finger in them. The only thing I love holding this much is the sateen corner of my blanket. I am wearing pink fuzzy footed pjs.
Grandpa is napping. We pretend he is a cat. We are baby birds that Grandma “hatches.” We curl up in a little ball by her side, and then emerge from blue afgan eggs. We peep around the living room looking for worms, trying to avoid waking the sleeping “cat.”
Zoobilee Zoo is awesome. And Grandma has made saltine crackers with lemon icing. I live next door, but assume both houses are mine.
It is my first day of ballet class in Michigan. I have my new leotard on and the place smells like a musty warehouse. I like it. My friend, Rachel, introduces me to my best friend, Alicia. It was the first time we met, and I thought she was so pretty. Her hair was kind of messy compared to all the other girls in class. We become friends forever.
It is the first day of high school. I know zero people. I am sitting in the auditorium near the back, wearing a fake fur skirt, combat boots, purple tights, black tank top, ball-chain necklaces, and purple hair. There may have also been some eye makeup. A boy with purple spiky hair and black leather pants approaches me after the orientation. We become friends forever.
I am sitting with my boyfriend on the roof of his garage in Arizona. We are watching the sun rise over the purple mountains that are on fire. A yellow tree full of blossoms is hanging over us. I realize with incredible clarity that I am in love, and there is no going back. My stomach flips. I don’t tell him just then.
Driving home from my Grandma’s funeral, my friend calls me to tell me that her Grandma had also died that week. I remember passing a lot of semis on a straight highway in northern Indiana. She told me that before grandma passed, her grandpa held her hand and told her that “She had done well.” I want to bawl my eyes out, but don’t want to hit the semis so I contain myself for the most part. Two days later, I finish reading Time Traveller’s Wife and cry longer and harder than I have in a long time.
Justin and I are waiting on the train platform in the morning. It is cold and windy, so I smash-up next to him to avoid the wind. I am warm and he calls me a penguin.
I hope the Unions and the CTA figure something out. I don't even care if they figure it out in a weird behind the scenes Chicago-kind-of-way 10 hours ago
The Twizzlers blimp at Puppybowl should have kittens instead of hamsters. I feel like that is a big miss. 21 hours ago
The best thing about halftime is the chocolate ice cream that Justin just went and got me. 21 hours ago
