Friday, September 26, 2008

18 Weeks: Hey, Hey, Hey...

I have a confession to make that the general infertile community is not going to like.

Involving weight gain.

(I can hear you rustling through your grocery bag in search of tomatoes and possibly darts or other sharp objects.)

(Hold please while I step into my full body armor.)

I realize the annoyances I am about to cause, because I have rolled my eyes and given the finger to my computer many, many times after reading about a pregnant person complaining about weight. I've been the person desperate to just get pregnant who wanted to kill or seriously injure someone smug enough to have what I wanted and have the gull to complain about the very things that are supposed to happen.

I get it.

It's not that I don't like my belly. I think I look damn adorable, if I'm being quite honest. I took this 18 week picture this morning, then exclaimed to myself "self, you are the cutest person alive!"



There has been some significant rounding happening in my abdomen this week and look? Who doesn't think that's cute? Who, I say?

(If you do not, please do not bother to comment because lo! I careth not what you think! Spread bitter elsewhere!)

Now that the disclaimers are posted I should probably get to the point.

The point being that I am having a hard time accepting weight gain. I worry about it. I worry about it too much, I'm sure. Every time I weigh myself (every morning), I calculate the acceptable amount of weight gain that I have left and try to imagine how it will spread out over the pregnancy and how much I will end up gaining overall based on what I've gained so far and try to think of healthier things to eat so that I will not gain too much.

I worry that people think I look way bigger than I should at 18 weeks - which has been magnified by the new development this week of having complete strangers ask me OH MY GOD YOU'RE PREGNANT WHEN ARE YOU DUE?

My favorite was, "You're not fat, you're pregnant!" exclaimed as soon as I walked through the door. And I was all, exactly! But...am I that big?

And trust me when I say that I want to bash my own face into the pavement for having these thoughts.

Speaking of bashing my face into the pavement, I think I am stereotypically becoming the emotional pregnant person. Because it was really hard for me not to cry at the end of The Office this week (the Jim and Pam part, not the Toby part) because OH! LOVE! Tis grand!

Other happenings: I should be studying. Right now. Twenty Minutes Ago. Three weeks ago. Am I studying right now? Well, no.

I cannot study at home because I am too distracted by TV, laundry, MY COMFY BED. Those sorts of things. So I usually go to some sort of coffee shop and study because I am forced to get done (except when they have WiFi and I bring my computer).

Sometimes my efforts are thwarted because people think that I look like I am a nice person and want to talk to the people who hang out in coffee shops on the weekends just for shits and giggles. And conversation, apparently? I swear - I am sitting with papers everywhere, books opened, and a look of concentration. Yet, somehow, someone strikes up conversation with me and will.not.stop.talking. no matter how many times I give a one word answer then look away, or just smile and nod and give looks of death.

I don't think that people realize that I'm not that nice. I mean, I don't care what you do for a living or where you vacation, or oh, you're majoring in accounting well let me tell you a story about accounting! NO! GO AWAY!

(Unless your story is about how you somehow found an extra $100 on your books and want to give it to a knocked up grad student you met in a coffee shop as a means of community service. Then we can talk.)

Saturday, September 20, 2008

You Down With RLP?

Yeah you know me!

And in case you were wondering, as soon as this title occurred to me, I spent a solid 5 minutes trying to figure out how to change the lyrics of OPP to fit with RLP. Unsuccessfully, may I add.*

A rapper I will never be. I will leave the awesome tunes to Naughty By Nature.

Here's a (VERY ACCURATE) description of round ligament pain that I found on Baby Center :
You may feel round ligament pain as a short jabbing sensation if you suddenly change position, such as when you're getting out of bed or out of a chair or when you cough, roll over in bed, or get out of the bathtub. You may feel it as a dull ache after a particularly active day — when you've been walking a lot or doing some other physical activity.


But listen...there is a cure for RLP: Walk like an old lady! Hunch over, put a hand on your abdomen, and walk with shuffling feet whilst grunting and sighing as much as possible. (You may also shake your fists at the heavens.)




Everything is going well over here in uterus central, but the RLP is a little ouchy. I'm handling it well by making strange noises. Clearly, am pregnancy dynamo.

I haven't been having much in the way of cravings. Sure, there are things that sound good, but nothing that causes me to elbow Mark in his incredibly sculpted abs** in the middle of the night demanding that he acquire some ridiculous food or else suffer the consequences of pregnancy hunger NOM NOM NOM.

The things I have been craving don't involve food, but instead involve mooshy cute baby items. I think my mom is having sympathy cravings, because she pulled an early Santa Claus and delivered my Christmas presents in September...All the Graco Deco stuff we wanted!

Our High Chair:



The Travel System:



The Pack and Play:



The Bouncy Chair:



And since we snagged a great deal, we also got an early Christmas gift for ourselves!

Our Glider and Ottoman:




AND, since the big ultrasound is less than two weeks away, why don't you be darling and vote on my poll so that I can speculate pointlessly and obsess over something that doesn't really matter...mmmkay?

*One particularly troubling line: "It's kind of like another way to call a cat a kitten." If you have any suggestions, leave them in the comments.

**He has been elbowed in said abs for snoring, because OMFG stop breathing you inconsiderate prick! I'm trying to get my sleepz!

Wednesday, September 17, 2008

The Girl Who Cried Quickening! Or, 16 and 17 Weeks

I'm pretty sure I've been feeling the baby move since the end of 15 weeks.

At first, I thought it was gas. For like, 3 days, I kept thinking "My GOD I am filled to the brim with methane!" But then I thought about it, and I realized that I couldn't remember farting at all for the past week despite all the rumbling in my abdominal bulge area.

Hmmmm...

So I shut up and didn't tell anyone that I was feeling the baby, because I wasn't sure and I didn't want to be the girl who cried quickening when I really just needed a Gas-X and a lot of water. I didn't want to confuse the baby with the proverbial butt trumpet.

But it is definitely the baby, who loves when I drink pop and eat anything.

I think the main confusion was that I was waiting for "flutters." Like, butterflies. But the baby feels more like popcorn popping in my ute - like a fury of little tiny thumps. Like: thump, thump, thumpthumpthump gimme more caesar salad NOW NOW NOW KTHXBYE thump. (I have eaten caesar salads at lunch for three weeks straight. Yum.)

BUMPWATCH: like Baywatch, but less...stupid.

16 Weeks - still at 5 pound weight gain.



17 Weeks - also, still 5 pound weight gain.



Two people have been so bold as to look at my stomach and then ask me about my pregnancy.

The douche at GNC who tried to sell me sports vitamins after I repeatedly told him that, no my husband doesn't work out, lift weights, do cardio, and no he does not have a physically demanding job. Just ring up these Mega Mens for healthy sperm and shut your fucking YAPPER! But no - he went to another sales pitch - What kind of vitamins are you taking, prenatals?

I should've said no, I'm just chubby you bastard. Have any diet pills? Or maybe a side of beef?

A client at work looked at my belly, then said, "When are you due?" When I said February, she cocked her head and said, "Oh, congratulations!" The text bubble that appeared above her head said, "Jesus Christ! You look 8 months pregnant! Lay off the Hostess products!" In my mind, I popped the bubble with my hang nail and told her to kiss my lumpy ass. In reality, I said hey! Thanks!

I sort of wish I had some Hostess products right now...

Other ridiculous things happened this week - I am pretty sure I offended a blind man, my entire left side fell asleep after I slept in my car on my lunch break and a ball scratcher offered to help me inside, and I made a fertile pregnant lady think I was crazy with my attention to pregnancy detail. I also drooled chocolate pop tart all down the front of my white sweater as soon as I got to work. Maybe I'll update again this week - I'm sure you can't live without those details.

Thursday, September 11, 2008

15 Weeks Pregnant! But Only One Week Late!

Oh, this blogging business...
Tis hard while I am going to school to update, because I only think of funny things to say while I am in class and should be listening. And then by the time I get home, I'm all what? Blog? Bah.

Anyway, project cupcake is going along swimmingly. 15 week expansion is as follows:




The big ultrasound is scheduled for October 3, which is only because I LIED and said I couldn't come at 20 weeks, so that I could come 5 days earlier. Don't judge me (or do, because let's face it - I'd probably judge you).

I think I am looking bigger these days, but still holding strong at 5 pound gain. I see much belly explosion in my future. And much ass mushyness. It should be fun to look at!

You will also notice that my skirt is trying to run for dear life after being tugged up over my hips. Banana Republic is probably filing suit as we speak because they are really against chub a lubs trying to wear their skirts when they are too damned pregnant! (You will be happy to know that I changed after I saw the picture)

I bought some maternity clothes (at Motherhood, who probably is waiting for my apology for this post) and they? ARE FABULOUS! Like pajamas, but you can wear them all day! In public! And not look like one of those hillbillies who goes out in public in their pajamas because why not? Like, professional work pants that feel like flannel! LOVE. LUST. COMMMMFFFYY...

I have really high hopes of doing my 16 week post this weekend (preview: FLUTTERS!), but we all know that I am a lying, lazy, fat ass (<----sarcasm, folks! drink it up!) whore who will probably just sleep and eat all weekend.

Wednesday, September 3, 2008

You May Call Me Snotty McBloody-Boogerson

It appears that I have developed a bit of a problem with snot and phlegm. A problem, as in, I have both and can’t get rid of them, and sound like a disgusting germbot.

To make matters worse, I am afraid to ever blow my nose, because every once in a while I will get a raging nose bleed. And since I spend most of my time away from home these days, I am a bit hesitant to blow my nose seeing as I may create a faux murder scene.

With my luck, my nose blood would land right beside an actual murder victim’s blood at an actual crime scene, and I will go to jail for a murder that I didn’t commit because of the advances in DNA technology. I’m sure the victim would end up being fertile, then my blog would just end up being proof of my rage and indecency at trial.

You see, it’s best if I keep my snot in my nose, where it can form bloody crust boogers and make me sound like one of those annoying nasal talkers. Or a person with a cold who refuses to blow her nose, but instead sniffs snot all day long and drives you CRAZY.

Monday, September 1, 2008

14 Weeks, Plus! A Bonus Freak Out

First things first, and mostly for my edification, my 14 week belly shot:



I have a bit of a confession, too. Based on my measurement at my first ultrasound, a start a new week each Tuesday. So tomorrow I will be 15 (!) weeks. BUT, based on our exact day of scientifically fueled conception, I would start a new week the Thursday before. So based on that date, I'd be 15 weeks 5 days tomorrow.

Usually I split the difference. On Saturday each week, I start saying that I am whatever the next week is. Mostly because I feel the need to rationalize the size of my ass and stomach by being as far along as possible...especially around late afternoon, when all of the food I ate for breakfast and lunch are sitting in my stomach, undigested, and making me look huge.

Kind of like shoving waffles, a sandwich, and apple, some crackers, a yogurt, and maybe a string cheese, directly down my pants. I look like the old lady who swallowed a fly, except I don't want to die so I won't swallow a horse (of course).

Weight gain shot up a little, now at +6 pounds. This could be attributed to the increased holiday weekend eating combined with the lack of holiday pooping. (You're welcome for that.)

According to all the books/websites, I should be able to feel the baby move in the next few weeks. And I can't stop trying to be an overachiever by laying still in bed at night and focusing on my abdomen. So far, nothing. Stubborn ass fetus...

Moving on to other ridiculous things, I am freaking the hell out about money.

Maybe you've heard? Or maybe not? But daycare is EXPENSIVE. Like, $750/month is sort of a deal, expensive. It seems like everyone I know has free daycare from someone they know, or is able to stay home, and so I've never heard any complaints about the cost of daycare.

Oh, how ignorance was bliss. Sweet, sweet, moronic ignorance.

Let me just say that I have a major money freak out before any major financial decision. Like, when we were in the process of buying our house, I couldn't sleep for a week, had raging heartburn, and kept adding figures and running scenarios over and over and over because I kept worrying that I forgot some major bill and then poof! We'd be bankrupt and living in a Toyota down by the river, because hell, we wouldn't even be able to afford a van and AAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH FAIL.

lolcat - fail


So the whole baby/daycare/higher medical insurance/diapers/Excedrin Migraine pending financial responsibility is making me all cuckoo. It's not an issue of being able to afford it, but it is an issue of having to adhere to a budget, and quit living like DINKs (*insert projectile vomit at use of the phrase DINK here*).

The financial freak outs probably really help me make better decisions, but DAYAM!

So we have found a daycare center we like, but we're going to look into some people who do in-home care. We're also looking at some scheduling options, since Mark can do flex time.

My last semester of grad school started last week, so I'm starting to see the light at the end of the tunnel. Just wait till you see my picture - you won't recognize me because of all of my new smartz.