Yes, a hobbit. Why, you ask? Because just like those little guys with the furry feet, I have found myself enamored of a new daily ritual: Second Breakfasts. This glorious occassion takes place about three hours after my First Breakfasts and, yes, is limited to a second serving of breakfast like food, no exceptions. For the rest of the day, I eat pretty much as is usual, but the morning is food time for the Daughterling.
They say that babies have patterns in the womb, daily schedules and habits they adhere to. And I've found this to be very true, especially regarding feedings. Here is a rough run-down of Daughterling's current schedule:
6:00 a.m.- wake up starving (7:00 a.m. on the weekends..eep!) This is accompanied with Daughterling kicking like crazy, in a very, "YAAAAAAAARGH!!! Feed meeeeeeeee!" sort of fashion.
6:15 a.m.- partake of one of the following: bowl of lucky charms, hard boiled egg (I'm adding these in to try and curb more eating later, not really working), chocolate chip pancakes, greek yogurt.
8:00 a.m.- experience extreme hunger sensations in the car en-route to work. Thank the heavens I don't have one of those awesome GPS systems that shows me where food sources are, or I'd be tardy to work every day.
8:30 a.m.- dash out of car and run to work fridge for cheese/fruit snack OR pull into the local coffee shop next to work, resolved to eat something as an alternative to going mad with hunger. Usually walk out with a small coffee and a bagel w/low fat cream cheese (if I'm being good), a butter croissant (if I'm being a little bad) or a sausage/egg/cheese bagel (if I'm really really hungry and body is in the 'you must do this or baby/you won't survive the winter' mentality.)
9:00-10:00 a.m.- Daughterling begins training for Olympic Women's Soccer Team, kicking like crazy and shifting/tactical manoeuvres.
11:00 a.m.- Vague hunger comes back, triggering the "don't forget about lunch at noon" instinct.
Noon- Lunch times! Usually something pretty healthy, though co-workers are sabotaging lately with their delicious baked goods and homemade pasta salads.
2:00 p.m.-3:00 p.m.- Hungry again. The great, "do I go and buy a Maggie Moo's milkshake???" debate rages in my head. Decide five bucks a day on milkshakes alone will sap the bank account in no time. Settle for baby carrots and cheese squares instead.
4:00 p.m.- more kicking ensues as Daughterling trains to apparently join an Irish step dancing team in the future. Odd movements, giant leaps and flailing kicks ensue.
5:00 p.m.- Drive home, daydreaming about dinner and sitting on my duff. By the end of my commute, am Cranky Hunger Monster, in need of less traffic and a light snack upon entering the home.
6:00 p.m.- Have light snack, usually consisting of: 2 pickle spears, more greek yogurt, coffee cup full of Lucky Charms, small cake cone of ice cream (hey! I only get this excuse right now) or anything else yummy I can muster. Go work on dinner or wait for Timmerz to come home and make dinner.
6:30 p.m.- Daughterling kicks approval at dinner. Usually spreads out and pushes some pointy body object (knee, elbow, pointy pointy head?) at an angle that is very uncomfortable and a bit disconcerting.
9:00 p.m.- Hunger starts up again. Go in for second or somethimes third small cake cone of ice cream (in my defense, I am not doing a standard issue ice cream shop giant one/two scoops on these, people. Seriously, I barely fill the cake cone and eat that... I have SOME limits, here.)
10:00-11:00 p.m.- Settle down to bed and try to read. Wherein Daughterling begins judo practice, possibly fusing judo with Irish step dance in some odd new and groundbreaking fashion. Tim tries to feel and the girl immediately stops, trying to make an ass out of me and make Tim feel bad. YES this is our child. Make note to self to enforce even more chores when child comes of age as payback.
Repeat times every day. Sometimes throw in dance rehearsal, a neighborhood walk, going out to a movie or some other random social event.
It's kind of neat having these routines, but it also makes me feel a bit out of control. I don't know if I can get across how the hunger is not something I create, but more of a crazy, evolutionary runaway train that grabs me and forces me to food. It's like birds migrating or tectonic plates shifting- it just is.
Tuesday, August 19, 2008
Wednesday, August 13, 2008
Gettin on up!
As of this Saturday, I am 30 weeks pregnant. That is one big number. Especially when you think that normal gestation is around 40 weeks or so (some say 38). Yipes! The number itself has me daunted a bit and has set me in motion for what some call "nesting."
The term "nesting" applies to the female instinct, usually occurring in the last stages of pregnancy, to set into motion plans to create an optimal environment for her offspring. This feeling can, apparently, effect the male as well, causing a surge and flurry of activity to turn their home into a baby-welcoming sanctuary.
Now, I'm not sure I buy the "nesting" idea as an instinct. It comes a bit too close to the "women were made to be maternal" and the "the drive to be a mother is a natural instinct in women" for my feminist self. However, I think of nesting being a natural, psychological reaction to welcoming a new life into your world. I think it's only logical and necessary, whether you're a female or male, to freak out and say, "OMG we're going to have this little kid thing here in t-minus 3...2...1."
Well, whatever it's called, it's hit Tim and I. We've cleared out his old DJ room, moved him and myself into a new brooke/tim office space and spackled/painted the baby's room. We've also started to think of furniture and its placement, as well as cute wall decals and whatnot. I have started work on several soakers for my cloth diapering and am no longer buying maternity clothes, since I've only got a little over two months left. This week/weekend will entail the first round of washing baby clothes to have them all ready, as well as planning the seat cushion construction for the built in toy chest (that already existed in tim's old dj room/new baby room). I'm also working out my Doula situation and getting ready to go to bi-weekly doctors appointments in the next two weeks.
All is a-buzz! It feels invigorating and scary. But mostly invigorating.
And, finally, in the funniest aspect of things.. I have gained 30lbs so far! What's funny is that it's all belly/ta-ta weight, folks. All of my pre preg shirts and pants still fit just fine, if you discount the belly area. But 30lbs is just one odd number to think of. That's like one pound per week total so far! cuh-razee! I seriously don't know where it's all going... well I do, because I got this handout, but that doesn't mean I believe it! My wager is that, all told, I'll end up 50lbs up on my pre-pregnant weight. Anyone wanna take bets?
:) speaking of which, man I could use some tacos!
The term "nesting" applies to the female instinct, usually occurring in the last stages of pregnancy, to set into motion plans to create an optimal environment for her offspring. This feeling can, apparently, effect the male as well, causing a surge and flurry of activity to turn their home into a baby-welcoming sanctuary.
Now, I'm not sure I buy the "nesting" idea as an instinct. It comes a bit too close to the "women were made to be maternal" and the "the drive to be a mother is a natural instinct in women" for my feminist self. However, I think of nesting being a natural, psychological reaction to welcoming a new life into your world. I think it's only logical and necessary, whether you're a female or male, to freak out and say, "OMG we're going to have this little kid thing here in t-minus 3...2...1."
Well, whatever it's called, it's hit Tim and I. We've cleared out his old DJ room, moved him and myself into a new brooke/tim office space and spackled/painted the baby's room. We've also started to think of furniture and its placement, as well as cute wall decals and whatnot. I have started work on several soakers for my cloth diapering and am no longer buying maternity clothes, since I've only got a little over two months left. This week/weekend will entail the first round of washing baby clothes to have them all ready, as well as planning the seat cushion construction for the built in toy chest (that already existed in tim's old dj room/new baby room). I'm also working out my Doula situation and getting ready to go to bi-weekly doctors appointments in the next two weeks.
All is a-buzz! It feels invigorating and scary. But mostly invigorating.
And, finally, in the funniest aspect of things.. I have gained 30lbs so far! What's funny is that it's all belly/ta-ta weight, folks. All of my pre preg shirts and pants still fit just fine, if you discount the belly area. But 30lbs is just one odd number to think of. That's like one pound per week total so far! cuh-razee! I seriously don't know where it's all going... well I do, because I got this handout, but that doesn't mean I believe it! My wager is that, all told, I'll end up 50lbs up on my pre-pregnant weight. Anyone wanna take bets?
:) speaking of which, man I could use some tacos!
Wednesday, August 6, 2008
Ups, downs and revelations
It's been a very topsy/turvy week in preggoLand.
Woke up on Saturday with itchy, painful ears that have since bloomed into full-on ear infections (of which I'm currently on Amoxycillan to clear it up.) Tim and I went to a RIDICULOUSLY CHEESY birthing class, wherein the instructor was not only ill-equipped to teach physical actions to people and the content was new-aged crap. Have had upheavals and hard days here at work tag-teamed with a huge influx of jobs and projects to pump out. Life is busy busy busy and I feel my nesting instinct kicking in, driving me to get the house ready for our new gal who is less than three months away from arriving!
On the good sides, I've had some awesome times, too. Tim and I have taken up date nights that include playing Star Wars monopoly and being silly. I've had some great times teaching students and watching them grow as dancers. Our girl is an every bigger, ever more present part of my life as she kicks away and moves. I'm feeling energized to be in the final stretch of pregnancy.
To cap off this crazy time, today I had my glucose tolerance test. This is a delightful test in which they give you this nasty orange glucose drink (that tastes like a big thing of melted icey pops) and draw your blood an hour later. I did the deed, then got over to my doc's to have them do a follow up visit and blood drawing. I had a hunch that they would forget that, since I'm a hospital employee, I get my blood drawn in our hospital lab since it's free. And yep, bingo! I show up and they're freaking out, because I have to have my blood drawn in ten minutes or I have to come back another day. So, I overhear them saying, "well, could she just pay the co-pay?" and I was like, "YES! YES I hear you and yes I don't want to do this again. I'll play the co-pay just to get it over with!" So I did and all was well.
One thing to note is that I was apprehensive to go to the doctor's visit today. This is because the doc I was scheduled to see was none other than the doctor who was a total jerk to me when I miscarried. When I called and was frantic on the phone about what I could do to stop it, he said,"You're having a miscarriage. You're just going to have to deal with it." I couldn't believe it. It was just awful how blunt and cold he was. Since, I've told myself that I was never EVER going to see him again and I wouldn't dare let him deliver this baby.
Well, I noticed yesterday that I was slated to see him and it was too late to change my appointment. So, I said to myself, "Well, you have two options. Put on your mental armor and see the guy or your baby doesn't get its check up it's supposed to have." I decided it's more important to be a good parent than to back away from someone I have issues with. Plus, I kept telling myself that maybe it was a case of bad-situation-bad-response and that maybe I was supposed to see him again for a reason, to learn to let go of my past bile and forgive him.
The rest of the story is pretty simple. I went to see him and he was an incredibly kind, compassionate and caring doctor. He was charming, sweet and excited to finally have someone having a girl come through today (he'd seen only women expecting boys) and was talking to me about pediatricians and how to find them, as well as laughing about my glucose test. From the moment I sat in his office, I let my anger melt away and was happy to find him to be a really cool guy. So, I guess it was just a bad situation. I guess he was on the phone and said the only thing he could and didn't mean to be so cruel. I'm really glad I went today, because I shed a little bit of hurt and anger, a lump of poison I'd carried for years. Forgiving is awesome.
Anyways, I'm finding more and more that, at least in my opinion, the universe wants us all to be compassionate, to forgive and offer second chances to ourselves and to others. By letting go of anger and confronting people who've harmed us, we have a chance to slough away some of the scars we carry on our hearts. I'm really glad I lost one today.
On with the rest of my day. It's another date/grocery night tonight, with the promise of bahama burgers and piping hot cookies and cold, cold milk.
Woke up on Saturday with itchy, painful ears that have since bloomed into full-on ear infections (of which I'm currently on Amoxycillan to clear it up.) Tim and I went to a RIDICULOUSLY CHEESY birthing class, wherein the instructor was not only ill-equipped to teach physical actions to people and the content was new-aged crap. Have had upheavals and hard days here at work tag-teamed with a huge influx of jobs and projects to pump out. Life is busy busy busy and I feel my nesting instinct kicking in, driving me to get the house ready for our new gal who is less than three months away from arriving!
On the good sides, I've had some awesome times, too. Tim and I have taken up date nights that include playing Star Wars monopoly and being silly. I've had some great times teaching students and watching them grow as dancers. Our girl is an every bigger, ever more present part of my life as she kicks away and moves. I'm feeling energized to be in the final stretch of pregnancy.
To cap off this crazy time, today I had my glucose tolerance test. This is a delightful test in which they give you this nasty orange glucose drink (that tastes like a big thing of melted icey pops) and draw your blood an hour later. I did the deed, then got over to my doc's to have them do a follow up visit and blood drawing. I had a hunch that they would forget that, since I'm a hospital employee, I get my blood drawn in our hospital lab since it's free. And yep, bingo! I show up and they're freaking out, because I have to have my blood drawn in ten minutes or I have to come back another day. So, I overhear them saying, "well, could she just pay the co-pay?" and I was like, "YES! YES I hear you and yes I don't want to do this again. I'll play the co-pay just to get it over with!" So I did and all was well.
One thing to note is that I was apprehensive to go to the doctor's visit today. This is because the doc I was scheduled to see was none other than the doctor who was a total jerk to me when I miscarried. When I called and was frantic on the phone about what I could do to stop it, he said,"You're having a miscarriage. You're just going to have to deal with it." I couldn't believe it. It was just awful how blunt and cold he was. Since, I've told myself that I was never EVER going to see him again and I wouldn't dare let him deliver this baby.
Well, I noticed yesterday that I was slated to see him and it was too late to change my appointment. So, I said to myself, "Well, you have two options. Put on your mental armor and see the guy or your baby doesn't get its check up it's supposed to have." I decided it's more important to be a good parent than to back away from someone I have issues with. Plus, I kept telling myself that maybe it was a case of bad-situation-bad-response and that maybe I was supposed to see him again for a reason, to learn to let go of my past bile and forgive him.
The rest of the story is pretty simple. I went to see him and he was an incredibly kind, compassionate and caring doctor. He was charming, sweet and excited to finally have someone having a girl come through today (he'd seen only women expecting boys) and was talking to me about pediatricians and how to find them, as well as laughing about my glucose test. From the moment I sat in his office, I let my anger melt away and was happy to find him to be a really cool guy. So, I guess it was just a bad situation. I guess he was on the phone and said the only thing he could and didn't mean to be so cruel. I'm really glad I went today, because I shed a little bit of hurt and anger, a lump of poison I'd carried for years. Forgiving is awesome.
Anyways, I'm finding more and more that, at least in my opinion, the universe wants us all to be compassionate, to forgive and offer second chances to ourselves and to others. By letting go of anger and confronting people who've harmed us, we have a chance to slough away some of the scars we carry on our hearts. I'm really glad I lost one today.
On with the rest of my day. It's another date/grocery night tonight, with the promise of bahama burgers and piping hot cookies and cold, cold milk.
Friday, August 1, 2008
gifts from hard times
Tim came home last night with a large bag full of amazing, all new and never used gifts from a co-worker: tons of cute pink and bunny-ladened footsie onesies for 0-6 month babies, a cozy fleece sleeper set, cute knit hats, teething toys, a feeding/bowl set and some other goodies (I'll post a Flickr picture of the lot in a few days.) As I removed each piece, I kept feeling so blessed to have such caring, giving people around us. I also felt the giddiness of imagining that in less than three months we'll have a little daughterling to fill all these clothes.
The only bittersweet part is how we came to have them. This co-worker's good friend was expecting a girl and ended up having a miscarriage. So, she's held onto all this stuff for a long time, unable to donate or throw it away. Then, when she heard we were expecting a girl, she saw it as the right time to pass them along.
This is not the first round of gifts we've received due to another's misfortune. And though I feel so honored to have people pass along these items, these little things that used to be attached to their own thread of promise and memories to come, it's a bit hard. Because looking at them makes me realize how nothing is a given, how everything can change at a split second and how having a child is one of the biggest acts of faith a person can take on.
Before I had my miscarriage, I thought that babies were this thing you just had, that they were easy to come by, for most people and once you got preggo, BOOM... you have a baby. But after my experience, I realized that every one of us living and breathing on this earth had to go through so many tiny obstacles, so many chances of everything going wrong, that we really are miracles. That's cheesy, I know, but it's true. We all went through the challenge course of possible birth defects, malformation, exposure to illnesses that could cause miscarriages, preterm labor, leaking of fluid, stillbirth and all the other myriad issues that cause children to not be born into this world as expected.
And I know all those things are morbid. Sorry for the buzzkill. But actually, I see them as a big positive as well. If you are here on this Earth, right now, it's because a lot of little things aligned to get you here safely, a lot of chance, a lot of faith. Whether you believe in anything or not, you're here and that's amazing.
Holding these gifts from hard times, I feel a sense of power. I have been in those depths of loss and regret and I am emerging to have a healthy daughter. I don't know how I know it, but I just do. This time, I feel that things will be different. All has gone well up to this point, minus a scare or two. But when she does get here, she can rest assured knowing that, unlike some people in this world, she was hoped for, battled for and supported by the good energy and well wishes of a community of people. And that rocks.
The only bittersweet part is how we came to have them. This co-worker's good friend was expecting a girl and ended up having a miscarriage. So, she's held onto all this stuff for a long time, unable to donate or throw it away. Then, when she heard we were expecting a girl, she saw it as the right time to pass them along.
This is not the first round of gifts we've received due to another's misfortune. And though I feel so honored to have people pass along these items, these little things that used to be attached to their own thread of promise and memories to come, it's a bit hard. Because looking at them makes me realize how nothing is a given, how everything can change at a split second and how having a child is one of the biggest acts of faith a person can take on.
Before I had my miscarriage, I thought that babies were this thing you just had, that they were easy to come by, for most people and once you got preggo, BOOM... you have a baby. But after my experience, I realized that every one of us living and breathing on this earth had to go through so many tiny obstacles, so many chances of everything going wrong, that we really are miracles. That's cheesy, I know, but it's true. We all went through the challenge course of possible birth defects, malformation, exposure to illnesses that could cause miscarriages, preterm labor, leaking of fluid, stillbirth and all the other myriad issues that cause children to not be born into this world as expected.
And I know all those things are morbid. Sorry for the buzzkill. But actually, I see them as a big positive as well. If you are here on this Earth, right now, it's because a lot of little things aligned to get you here safely, a lot of chance, a lot of faith. Whether you believe in anything or not, you're here and that's amazing.
Holding these gifts from hard times, I feel a sense of power. I have been in those depths of loss and regret and I am emerging to have a healthy daughter. I don't know how I know it, but I just do. This time, I feel that things will be different. All has gone well up to this point, minus a scare or two. But when she does get here, she can rest assured knowing that, unlike some people in this world, she was hoped for, battled for and supported by the good energy and well wishes of a community of people. And that rocks.
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