Hey all,
I'm almost embarrassed to admit this, because a) I think it goes against every single thing I was planning on feeling while I was pregnant (albeit 5-6 years from now) and b) I haven't read a single other pregnancy blog that expresses this.....this....
ambivalence.
There, I said it. Sometimes, I think there is something wrong with me, because I don't have this spouting fountain of gushy love feelings towards my unborn child. I don't dislike it, or have negative emotions....its just....a black indescribable void of nothingness. I have a more concrete emotional position on what I want for dinner than how I feel towards this baby of mine.
I read in my pregnancy book last night that talking to your unborn child is considered important for pre-birth bonding for both mother and child. They say it doesn't have to be a meaningful conversation, you can just describe what you are doing. So I gave it an experimental try, even though I have a few weeks until Bean will be able to hear. My first groundbreaking conversation with my daughter/son....and I talked about the weather.....for about 10 seconds, then felt silly and shut up.
I suck at this. I can talk to my dog for 10 minutes, but can't work around the silly feelings enough to talk to my own child.
Are my feelings related to it being an unplanned pregnancy? God, I hope not. Everyone that even hears me hinting at how I have been feeling says things like "Oh, as soon as you see your baby for the first time, you will be just over the moon," (lady at my yarn store) and "Your maternal instincts will kick right in; you are so much like me in that sense" (my mother). But I thought I was supposed to be able to compose a comprehensive list of dreams and plans and goals for my baby off the top of my head by now, and be fairly able to articulate how thrilled baby makes me feel. Last night Taz took me out to Milestones for dinner, and we ran into some old workmates of mine who I haven't seen in a few months. At one point, the girl beside me gushed, "You must be just SO excited!" and looked at me expectantly. It took me a while to respond, because I had my nose buried deep into Taz's glass of red wine (my new forbidden fruit) and I was inhaling hungrily. I looked at her, and said all the right things. Because, really, how would you feel if someone responded with "Sometimes, most times, actually, it doesn't feel real at all. Then the bricks of reality crash land on me, I remember, and I move on from there."
Sunday, 29 January 2012
Thursday, 26 January 2012
A Simple Comparison...
Its a partly cloudy day here in Kingston, with a high of 1 C
Its a partly cloudy day in Veradero, with a high of 28 C
4 more days :)
Its a partly cloudy day in Veradero, with a high of 28 C
4 more days :)
Indecision
The Gaining and the Growing
I'm 15 weeks, 1 day today. That means Bean is about 4 inches long and weighs 2.5 ounces. Hmmm...makes me wonder where the rest of the 3 pounds I have gained has gone? Oh wait, there's a mirror, and there's my answer: My hips and ass! It's been a while since I've had this much curvage! I used to weigh over 160 pounds back in high school, and now that I'm sitting at a solid 138, and feeling like that's pretty hefty, I wonder how I ever weighed that much!
My waist measures about 32.5 inches now, and that's when I suck in. This sucking in business gets harder and harder every day, and yesterday I bought a pair of bona-fide maternity pants with the great big elastic that comes all the way up under my boobs, and I think that from now on I'm gonna have to let my tummy muscles go. And when I do....woah baby there's a real bump there! Amazing how much difference 3 weeks can make!
From here on out, I am supposed to gain about a pound a week.
The Hmmm-ing and The Hawww-ing
Curse it, I can't make up my mind about anything these days! I think it has to do with the amount of thoughts that are flitting around up there, keeping me awake long past when I am supposed to be asleep, dragging my attention away from the lectures I PAID to attend, and almost causing me to miss my bus stop. So much to think about these days, and so many decisions to make.
Midwife, or family doctor in Belmore?
Indoor wedding or outdoor?
Hep A shot for Cuba, or no?
Write about North American regional organization, or Asia-Pacific?
Do I need maternity bras?
I have to go to class now, but I'll be back later today, time permitting.
I'm 15 weeks, 1 day today. That means Bean is about 4 inches long and weighs 2.5 ounces. Hmmm...makes me wonder where the rest of the 3 pounds I have gained has gone? Oh wait, there's a mirror, and there's my answer: My hips and ass! It's been a while since I've had this much curvage! I used to weigh over 160 pounds back in high school, and now that I'm sitting at a solid 138, and feeling like that's pretty hefty, I wonder how I ever weighed that much!
My waist measures about 32.5 inches now, and that's when I suck in. This sucking in business gets harder and harder every day, and yesterday I bought a pair of bona-fide maternity pants with the great big elastic that comes all the way up under my boobs, and I think that from now on I'm gonna have to let my tummy muscles go. And when I do....woah baby there's a real bump there! Amazing how much difference 3 weeks can make!
From here on out, I am supposed to gain about a pound a week.
The Hmmm-ing and The Hawww-ing
Curse it, I can't make up my mind about anything these days! I think it has to do with the amount of thoughts that are flitting around up there, keeping me awake long past when I am supposed to be asleep, dragging my attention away from the lectures I PAID to attend, and almost causing me to miss my bus stop. So much to think about these days, and so many decisions to make.
Midwife, or family doctor in Belmore?
Indoor wedding or outdoor?
Hep A shot for Cuba, or no?
Write about North American regional organization, or Asia-Pacific?
Do I need maternity bras?
I have to go to class now, but I'll be back later today, time permitting.
Friday, 20 January 2012
For Financial Reasons
About two weeks before I found out I was pregnant, I decided to quit my job. I thought it was killing me. And to be fair, it probably was, in its own way. Even a healthy 22 year old should attend a full day of class, bike at least 8 kilomenters (sometimes more) then work 6-7 hours on her feet serving tables until the wee hours of the morning, then bike home, get up, repeat, repeat. And if she does, symptoms like fatigue, stomach upset, irritability and headaches should be a surprise. But by November I'd had enough. Not only was this situation the norm, but it was yielding crappy, bottom-of-the-barrel tips in what turned out to be primarily a student bar, where cheap wings and pitcher deals drew scholar wanna-bes with over-inflated senses of entitlement like moths to a flame, and good tips were rarer than real leather at Payless. Do I sound bitter?
But I digress. So I gave my notice. Final papers, exams and Christmas were looming and I needed time to prepare for all of it. I wasn't accomplishing much when lack of sleep meant every well-meaning trip to the library resulted in me napping at a desk, and drooling all over my papers. I even fell asleep in class. In the front row. And for what? $60/night, maybe. So I gave my notice and built up a big calendar in my head with my last shift labeleld FREEDOM DAY, and I scratched off each cursed day I spent a waitress with unbridled glee.
A week later, I took a pregnancy test in the library bathroom. By the time we'd made a decision about this baby, I'd worked my last shift. I never told my co-workers. Everything was so muddled in my head that I was dragging myself through each day in an inwardly-turned fog, and nothing about work mattered enough to register.
But then money stopped coming in. I was sort of prepared-I had a bit of an umbrella, and I knew between that and OSAP, I would be able to make it to summer, when I could get a new job. ANYTHING but serving. So Christmas passed, and Christmas break, and the first weeks back to school. But now, my umbrella is gone, my OSAP isn't in until Monday, work is slow for Taz and I'm trying to wrap my head around the term "overdraft". I have my last $20 sitting in my wallet, and I'm reluctant to break it, because once I do, I know its gone. My financial well has never, ever been this dry.
To date, For Financial Reasons:
1. We took the car off the road, to save on gas and insurance. The bus is free for me anyway. Free, and late half the time.
2. The dog is eating Nutrience, not Science Diet, and the cat is eating IAMS, not Royal Canine. Taz says the Nutrience tastes the same and Science Diet anyway, and I'll take his word for it. We saved $40 on pet food this month.
3. We have eaten out once since before Christmas. This is usually a weekly occasion, and dammit, I miss it more than I thought I would!
4. We've called Australia once since Christmas
5. No Internet, no t.v.
6. No maternity clothes, except the pair of jeans and two shirts I got for Christmas. This isn't a big deal yet, but it soon will be.
7. No textbooks yet, despite it being the end of week two, and I'm falling behind in my readings.
8. Taz and I had a fight about how much meat to buy, and whether I should pay for it, since he eats 85% of it anyway. We had this fight, in the grocery store. That was embarrassing.
9. No credit card payment, which is due today. I hate this worst of all.
I think about trying to get my job back, every once in a while. For Financial Reasons, see. But what sports bar wants a pregnant server? And more importantly, what pregnant woman wants to work in a sports bar? Not me! Do you know how tight our uniforms were?
Tell you what though, this pregnant woman is starting to have anxiety dreams, and they all involve bad things happening to her, For Financial Reasons.
But I digress. So I gave my notice. Final papers, exams and Christmas were looming and I needed time to prepare for all of it. I wasn't accomplishing much when lack of sleep meant every well-meaning trip to the library resulted in me napping at a desk, and drooling all over my papers. I even fell asleep in class. In the front row. And for what? $60/night, maybe. So I gave my notice and built up a big calendar in my head with my last shift labeleld FREEDOM DAY, and I scratched off each cursed day I spent a waitress with unbridled glee.
A week later, I took a pregnancy test in the library bathroom. By the time we'd made a decision about this baby, I'd worked my last shift. I never told my co-workers. Everything was so muddled in my head that I was dragging myself through each day in an inwardly-turned fog, and nothing about work mattered enough to register.
But then money stopped coming in. I was sort of prepared-I had a bit of an umbrella, and I knew between that and OSAP, I would be able to make it to summer, when I could get a new job. ANYTHING but serving. So Christmas passed, and Christmas break, and the first weeks back to school. But now, my umbrella is gone, my OSAP isn't in until Monday, work is slow for Taz and I'm trying to wrap my head around the term "overdraft". I have my last $20 sitting in my wallet, and I'm reluctant to break it, because once I do, I know its gone. My financial well has never, ever been this dry.
To date, For Financial Reasons:
1. We took the car off the road, to save on gas and insurance. The bus is free for me anyway. Free, and late half the time.
2. The dog is eating Nutrience, not Science Diet, and the cat is eating IAMS, not Royal Canine. Taz says the Nutrience tastes the same and Science Diet anyway, and I'll take his word for it. We saved $40 on pet food this month.
3. We have eaten out once since before Christmas. This is usually a weekly occasion, and dammit, I miss it more than I thought I would!
4. We've called Australia once since Christmas
5. No Internet, no t.v.
6. No maternity clothes, except the pair of jeans and two shirts I got for Christmas. This isn't a big deal yet, but it soon will be.
7. No textbooks yet, despite it being the end of week two, and I'm falling behind in my readings.
8. Taz and I had a fight about how much meat to buy, and whether I should pay for it, since he eats 85% of it anyway. We had this fight, in the grocery store. That was embarrassing.
9. No credit card payment, which is due today. I hate this worst of all.
I think about trying to get my job back, every once in a while. For Financial Reasons, see. But what sports bar wants a pregnant server? And more importantly, what pregnant woman wants to work in a sports bar? Not me! Do you know how tight our uniforms were?
Tell you what though, this pregnant woman is starting to have anxiety dreams, and they all involve bad things happening to her, For Financial Reasons.
Friday, 13 January 2012
Winter Has Arrived!
BOOOOOO I say! Last night out apartment had power, then didn't. Then did. Then didn't. I escaped being trapped in the elevator by about a minute while walking my dog, when it shut off or the third time. By midnight I had stopped keeping track, and I stopped blowing the candles out every time the lights came on. All our trees look like the one above. Pretty, actually, but a lot of them are now lying on the ground, or across power lines. According to the weather network, we get our first taste of real winter weather on Saturday, when it drops to -17, and the sun isn't even expected to show its face until sometime Sunday.
I hate Canadian winters. I'm moving to Australia next year, the land of never-snow! So I will be huddled inside all day long!
I plan to finish knitting this:
(Its not going very well so far, and looks a lot uh...scruffier than the picture, but that's what you get for kitting by candlelight)
I also plan to cook some dishes from this:
I bought this book over a year ago, and it is hands down the best cookbook I have ever invested in! I just completed a year of vegetarianism, and Jaffrey's book was indispensable. Recipes were easy to understand, and almost always paired with suggested complementary dishes from other places in the book, so it was easy to design a complete meal with a main, salads, grains, etc. Last year Taz and I were broke broke broke, as as Taz puts it, we got by on "a little bit of money, and a lot of beans". This book was my bible!
I also have over 100 pages of readings assigned from various courses that need summarised. Looks like it will be easy to pass the time.
Also, the countdown to Cuba is officially ON! Uncle Kirby has booked the tickets, and we fly out on Jan. 30th for a week of sun and tanning and cousin-level craziness. Of course, I will probably be the responsible one, since I can't drink, so I will be the one taking all the pictures, and getting up early in the morning without a hangover. I've never been to Cuba before, and have never been to an all-inclusive resort. With the turn we have had in the weather here this week, I am certainly going to enjoy every second of it!
Thursday, 12 January 2012
Anatomy Lesson! The Jawbone's Connected to the....
Temple, apparently. I know this, because I can't chew right now without shooting pains in my right temple, where an impressive goose egg has formed.
I hate hate hate Kingston's buses. In addition to running late 3 consecutive days now, and causing me to miss my connections, this morning the back door of the #3 slammed shut unexpectedly as my sleepy self was exiting, and caught me right on the temple with the strength of a vice grip. Ow ow ow. Its enough to make me want to give up on busing, and go back to biking to school and home. Except that I'm getting a lot of comments about the safety of biking on icy roads while pregnant, and I know that my family and friends do have a point there. I already slid over inelegantly at an intersection on a patch of black ice, and if the light hadn't been red, the outcome could have been a lot worse.
Still. I've never been assaulted by my mode of transportation before. That, and the night of freezing rain followed by a morning of warmer rain which turned all the roads and pathways on campus to boot-soaking slush has made this a grumpy-Porsche morning.
And then I received this in my e-mail, and it made me feel better. Oh, the eventual possibilities I haven't even considered.....
The world is now a brighter place :)
I hate hate hate Kingston's buses. In addition to running late 3 consecutive days now, and causing me to miss my connections, this morning the back door of the #3 slammed shut unexpectedly as my sleepy self was exiting, and caught me right on the temple with the strength of a vice grip. Ow ow ow. Its enough to make me want to give up on busing, and go back to biking to school and home. Except that I'm getting a lot of comments about the safety of biking on icy roads while pregnant, and I know that my family and friends do have a point there. I already slid over inelegantly at an intersection on a patch of black ice, and if the light hadn't been red, the outcome could have been a lot worse.
Still. I've never been assaulted by my mode of transportation before. That, and the night of freezing rain followed by a morning of warmer rain which turned all the roads and pathways on campus to boot-soaking slush has made this a grumpy-Porsche morning.
And then I received this in my e-mail, and it made me feel better. Oh, the eventual possibilities I haven't even considered.....
Wednesday, 11 January 2012
The Cabbage Is On My Side!
A few days ago, I stumbled upon a gender predictor test I hadn't heard of yet. It seemed relatively straightforward, cheap, and fun, so I ran it past Taz when I got home, and we walked to the Food Basics nearby to get ourselves a veggie soothsayer.
The process is really simple. We cut about a third of the cabbage into small pieces, covered them in water in a large saucepan, and brought it to a boil. We let it boil for 10 minutes, and then drained the water out into a bowl. Then, we let that water (which was dark dark blue) cool to room temperature.
Then I peed in a cup. I seem to be doing this alot lately.
Online, it said to mix equal parts cabbage juice and pee, so we measured it out, and mixed the two together. The cabbage juice is supposed to change colour in reaction to the acidity level in your urine, and the results indicate boy or girl. If it goes a light pink/red, you are carrying a boy, and if it becomes a dark purple shade, you are carrying a girl....
Mine was dark dark undeniably purple! Another stroke in my favour! We retested in the morning since we had a bunch of juice left over, and they do say to try to test using the first pee of the day. Same results. Woohoo!!
We have names picked out officially too!
Boy: Jet Thompson Ward
Girl: Amelia Julianne Ward
If anyone has any other fun gender tests that don't involve assessing how low or high the baby is "carrying" (I don't even have a real bump yet) let me know. I'm 13 weeks today, and can't wait until the 22nd of Feb when we learn for sure!
Monday, 9 January 2012
Perseverance Pays Off!
Let this be a lesson to any pregnant women out there: 1. Your doctor can be scarily, dangerously wrong about simple things related to your pregnancy, and 2. If you have a gut feeling, trust it, follow it. It will rarely lead you astray.
On the 4th, Taz and I visited our new family doctor for the first time for a "meet and greet". There were a bunch of questions about our family health histories, and a few pieces of paper to sign-the usual process, I guess. She asked me the date of the start of my last period, and I told her Oct. 4th. She did some calculating on a funky month spinning wheel contraption, and told me my due date was July 15th, which was two days later than the date I had been told by the last ultrasound technician, but I figured that was an acceptable amount of error.
Towards the end of the meeting, while we were discussing an appointment for a first physical, the subject of prenatal tests came up. I asked her about integrated prenatal screening, and when my ultrasound for my Nuchal Translucency Test would be scheduled. For those of you thinking "Nuchal trans-what-the heck?", it is basically a measurement of the skin fold on the back of the baby's neck, done via ultrasound. The results, combined with 2 separate blood tests (one between 11-14 weeks, and one between 15-20 weeks) are used to calculate the likely risk of the baby having Downs Syndrome. This integrated test was appealing to me because it had a much lower false positive rate than simply a blood test between 15-20 weeks: 2% vs 8%. False positives result in women undergoing an amniocentesis where none is necessary, and this is an invasive procedure with a slight risk of miscarriage that I wanted to avoid.
Simply put, I wanted the two-step approach. I expected it. So imagine my surprise when the doctor shook her head, and told me I was too far along to have the NT ultrasound. She gave a cursory glance at her spinning wheel, and told me I was going to be 14 weeks by the next day, and by that point it would be too late to have the ultrasound. I didn't think that sounded quite right. In fact, I was pretty sure I was only 12 weeks, 4 days at that point. Nevertheless, I took her calculation to be correct, and resigned myself to the fact that it would be another 8 weeks or so until I would see Bean again on a computer screen. We signed some more paperwork, including what was necessary to have my other ultrasound results forwarded, and went home.
2 days passed. The more I thought about it, and went over my calendar and journal notes, the more convinced I became that the doctor was wrong. So on the 6th, I called the doctor's office, and tried to reach my numerically challenged lady in the lab coat. The receptionist put me on hold after hearing my spiel about dates and scans, and was back on in I swear less than a minute. SHE told me that she had just looked at my ultrasound results from Kingston General Hospital, and since I was going to be 13 weeks, 6 days the very next day, (the 7th) it was too late to schedule an ultrasound. Then she wished me a brisk good day and hung up.
I sat there staring at the phone, confused. How could I go from being 14 weeks on the 5th of January, to 13 weeks, 6 days on the 7th, and yet according to my period, only possibly be as far along as 12 weeks, 6 days?? Just as I was reaching for my calendar yet again to see if maybe I double counted a week or something, my phone rang. It was the doctor herself. Turns out both her and the receptionist were "mistaken" and I was actually only 12 weeks, 2 days, and could I make an ultrasound appointment for today, in about 2 hours? I was too thrilled by the idea of seeing what Bean looked like to formulate a snarky comment about how easy it must be to mix up the numbers 12 and 14, what with all those years of high level education, and when she appologized, it hardly registered. I was going to get to see my baby!!
The ultrasound brought with it a range of emotions I was not expecting. Taz sat beside me, and laughed excitedly from the moment the image wavered into focus, until the last picture had been measured, 10 minutes later. He kept saying "look at that!" "look, its jumping" "look how much its moving around". Like I was watching anything else. :) I couldn't believe this life was, is, inside me. Growing every day. It took my breath away.
On the 4th, Taz and I visited our new family doctor for the first time for a "meet and greet". There were a bunch of questions about our family health histories, and a few pieces of paper to sign-the usual process, I guess. She asked me the date of the start of my last period, and I told her Oct. 4th. She did some calculating on a funky month spinning wheel contraption, and told me my due date was July 15th, which was two days later than the date I had been told by the last ultrasound technician, but I figured that was an acceptable amount of error.
Towards the end of the meeting, while we were discussing an appointment for a first physical, the subject of prenatal tests came up. I asked her about integrated prenatal screening, and when my ultrasound for my Nuchal Translucency Test would be scheduled. For those of you thinking "Nuchal trans-what-the heck?", it is basically a measurement of the skin fold on the back of the baby's neck, done via ultrasound. The results, combined with 2 separate blood tests (one between 11-14 weeks, and one between 15-20 weeks) are used to calculate the likely risk of the baby having Downs Syndrome. This integrated test was appealing to me because it had a much lower false positive rate than simply a blood test between 15-20 weeks: 2% vs 8%. False positives result in women undergoing an amniocentesis where none is necessary, and this is an invasive procedure with a slight risk of miscarriage that I wanted to avoid.
Simply put, I wanted the two-step approach. I expected it. So imagine my surprise when the doctor shook her head, and told me I was too far along to have the NT ultrasound. She gave a cursory glance at her spinning wheel, and told me I was going to be 14 weeks by the next day, and by that point it would be too late to have the ultrasound. I didn't think that sounded quite right. In fact, I was pretty sure I was only 12 weeks, 4 days at that point. Nevertheless, I took her calculation to be correct, and resigned myself to the fact that it would be another 8 weeks or so until I would see Bean again on a computer screen. We signed some more paperwork, including what was necessary to have my other ultrasound results forwarded, and went home.
2 days passed. The more I thought about it, and went over my calendar and journal notes, the more convinced I became that the doctor was wrong. So on the 6th, I called the doctor's office, and tried to reach my numerically challenged lady in the lab coat. The receptionist put me on hold after hearing my spiel about dates and scans, and was back on in I swear less than a minute. SHE told me that she had just looked at my ultrasound results from Kingston General Hospital, and since I was going to be 13 weeks, 6 days the very next day, (the 7th) it was too late to schedule an ultrasound. Then she wished me a brisk good day and hung up.
I sat there staring at the phone, confused. How could I go from being 14 weeks on the 5th of January, to 13 weeks, 6 days on the 7th, and yet according to my period, only possibly be as far along as 12 weeks, 6 days?? Just as I was reaching for my calendar yet again to see if maybe I double counted a week or something, my phone rang. It was the doctor herself. Turns out both her and the receptionist were "mistaken" and I was actually only 12 weeks, 2 days, and could I make an ultrasound appointment for today, in about 2 hours? I was too thrilled by the idea of seeing what Bean looked like to formulate a snarky comment about how easy it must be to mix up the numbers 12 and 14, what with all those years of high level education, and when she appologized, it hardly registered. I was going to get to see my baby!!
The ultrasound brought with it a range of emotions I was not expecting. Taz sat beside me, and laughed excitedly from the moment the image wavered into focus, until the last picture had been measured, 10 minutes later. He kept saying "look at that!" "look, its jumping" "look how much its moving around". Like I was watching anything else. :) I couldn't believe this life was, is, inside me. Growing every day. It took my breath away.
Here are my two favourite photos from the ultrasound. They are basically the same position, I know, but in one, Bean is a little scrunched, and in the other, its all a bit blurry. I'm trying to get the best of both worlds. Hard when your little one is performing amniotic aerobics in there! Every night since the ultrasound, I take these photos out and spend a few minutes studying them. Maternal biases be damned, they are the most beautiful things I have ever seen!
So there's my lesson for this week! If I hadn't trusted my gut feeling, I wouldn't have these cherished photos, or the memory of bawling my eyes out happily on a scanning table. I might have had to have an amniocentisis later on, even! Trust your heart ladies! Trust it more than a spinny cardboard wheel.
An awkward kind of day
Today is my last first day of classes here at Queens, and boy it couldn't come soon enough! A week or more of sitting on my butt with nothing to do but clean the house and walk the dog was getting to me. I read 3 600+ page books, and cooked a bunch of freezer meals in preparation for the busy weeks ahead, but you can only read so much, only knit so much, only call so many people "just to chat" before some asks "Seriously Porsche, don't you have a life?"
So I welcomed the beginning of school with open arms. Even though my very first class on Monday morning starts at 8:30, and is a rather dry "Regional Political Organization" hour and a half lecture. At least the prof seems proficient, and kindly, and wears a tie. I'm beginning to learn that you can formulate a pretty accurate expectation of a course based simply on how the professor dresses. Suits and ties? A structured lesson plan and up to 26 readings already included in the course outline, with additional links available on the course website. Corduroys and a long sleeve v-neck? An hour of distracted lecturing interspersed with frequent forays into unrelated topics which are interesting, but ultimately useless on the final exam. A pencil skirt, or perhaps exceedingly polished wing-tip dress shoes? ZERO LATE ASSIGNMENT TOLERANCE!!
But I digress from this post's title, and the ultimate reason for my post today.....
Holy crap this is an awkward physical time for me!
1. I'm right in between Portly and Pregnant on the waistline scale. I've gained 3 inches on my usually 28-inch waist, and I really prefer at this point not to measure my butt at all.
2. My hair is in that abhorent state between a grown out mowhawk (fun, but ultimatly BAD decision) and a more respectable mom-like bob. I will call this state "mannish sheepdog" There is no amount of straightening, or curling, or moussing, or praying that makes this a nice polished do .
3. My blood pressure is doing funny things to my ability to stand up after sitting down for longer than five minutes, and every time I try, I weave around like a drunk for 8-10 seconds while waiting for my vision to return. This is funny at home. Not so funny on the bus, or in class, in the library, or at the campus coffee shop. I had someone try to catch me today.
4. I'm 0-1 so far in my attempts to make it through a normal length lecture without having to leave to pee. I have two more lectures today, and I am now strategically planning my fluid intake so that I don't have to do that awkard shuffle to the door while the professor stops lecturing and everyone stares at the scruffy boy-girl weaving drunkenly towards the door, and maybe someone who knew me from last semester thinks to themselves, "Boy, SHE put on weight over Christmas".
Well, that's all I have time for now. I'm off to POLS 317. After class, I'm going to post about my ultrasound! Complete with pics if I can figure out how to upload em. Wish me and my bladder luck!
So I welcomed the beginning of school with open arms. Even though my very first class on Monday morning starts at 8:30, and is a rather dry "Regional Political Organization" hour and a half lecture. At least the prof seems proficient, and kindly, and wears a tie. I'm beginning to learn that you can formulate a pretty accurate expectation of a course based simply on how the professor dresses. Suits and ties? A structured lesson plan and up to 26 readings already included in the course outline, with additional links available on the course website. Corduroys and a long sleeve v-neck? An hour of distracted lecturing interspersed with frequent forays into unrelated topics which are interesting, but ultimately useless on the final exam. A pencil skirt, or perhaps exceedingly polished wing-tip dress shoes? ZERO LATE ASSIGNMENT TOLERANCE!!
But I digress from this post's title, and the ultimate reason for my post today.....
Holy crap this is an awkward physical time for me!
1. I'm right in between Portly and Pregnant on the waistline scale. I've gained 3 inches on my usually 28-inch waist, and I really prefer at this point not to measure my butt at all.
2. My hair is in that abhorent state between a grown out mowhawk (fun, but ultimatly BAD decision) and a more respectable mom-like bob. I will call this state "mannish sheepdog" There is no amount of straightening, or curling, or moussing, or praying that makes this a nice polished do .
3. My blood pressure is doing funny things to my ability to stand up after sitting down for longer than five minutes, and every time I try, I weave around like a drunk for 8-10 seconds while waiting for my vision to return. This is funny at home. Not so funny on the bus, or in class, in the library, or at the campus coffee shop. I had someone try to catch me today.
4. I'm 0-1 so far in my attempts to make it through a normal length lecture without having to leave to pee. I have two more lectures today, and I am now strategically planning my fluid intake so that I don't have to do that awkard shuffle to the door while the professor stops lecturing and everyone stares at the scruffy boy-girl weaving drunkenly towards the door, and maybe someone who knew me from last semester thinks to themselves, "Boy, SHE put on weight over Christmas".
Well, that's all I have time for now. I'm off to POLS 317. After class, I'm going to post about my ultrasound! Complete with pics if I can figure out how to upload em. Wish me and my bladder luck!
Wednesday, 4 January 2012
What the stork hath wrought....
Its crazy how much a couple blue lines on a little stick of plastic can change your life. I know, I know, cliche, right? And there are probably a dozen blogs out there that say the same thing. However, in this instance, I don't feel much desire to avoid the cliches, because for once, they feel very, very real to me.
I deliberately avoided posting again after Nov. 15th because emotions (especially mine) were running high, and what I thought we should do often changed faster than I could type out a full sentence. Plus, what they say about being pregnant rang particularly true for me, and all I have wanted to do for the last 6 weeks is sleep and sleep some more. Alas, those 6 weeks straddled final exams, a family reunion in Seattle, AND Christmas with all its gritty, hours-on-the-road-barely-awake travel time. I didn't have enough conscious time left to sort out my thoughts enough to write them down.
And to be perfectly honest, I wanted to be more than 12 weeks along before committing myself in this space, public as it is, to having a baby. I wanted to be undeniably, irrevocably past the abortion time limit. Its not like I bounced in and out of abortion clinics like a super undecided Ellen Page or anything. But I was scared, and unsure, especially in that first month. Plus, following the removal of the IUD, it looked bad for the embryo for a week or so, and prompted two more ultrasounds before I was given the all-clear. Much as I shuddered at the though of penning happy baby feelings, followed by a personal abortion story, I didn't want to be writing about a miscarriage either. But the baby made it, and has now graduated from embryo to fetus status, although in my head I only ever called it "baby". Taz calls it Bean.
Like a tearful Oscar holding actress, I would like to thank my mother, and father, for their undying support and love during the past few weeks. I don't know what I would have done if I hadn't decided (for once) to turn to my mother for advice before anyone else. Far from the explosion of anger and disappointment and accusations I was expecting, I got compassion and support and sound advice. My dad is thrilled about being a "pop" and calls every few days to ask in a hesitant, and slightly embarrassed tone, how I am "holding up with everything". Its cute and awkward, and I love it. My little sister has taken to calling me "prego" and mocking me for how often I have to rush to the bathroom. (I officially cannot handle a 3 hour car trip, or sleep through an entire night without groggily feeling my way to the toilet at least once.)
And Taz and I? We have spent COUNTLESS hours now pouring through I'm Pregnant, The Canadian Version And The Mother of All Pregnancy Books, and talking about our recently radically altered plans. Even though this is a super big scary step in our lives, it is in a direction we both wanted all along. Just....about 6 years too early. But I'm a firm believer in things happening for a reason, and with all the obstacles facing that little embryo in its first weeks, and the teensy tiny chance it had of surviving, I like to think of it as my strong, fierce little odd-defier. Here for a reason. And I love her for it.
Yes, I said her. I'm firmly in the GIRL camp. Only about 6 weeks until we will know for sure!
And as for a weekly countdown of sorts, here is what is running through my mind as of today.
Return to school: 5 days
Blood and Serum tests (GOD, how I hate blood tests): 9 days
Physical with the new wonderful doctor, Dr. Kane: 3 weeks, 5 days
Well, I feel better for having finally started writing! One of my New Year's Resolutions is to post at least 4 times a week, so it should be much more regular and interesting from here on out!
I deliberately avoided posting again after Nov. 15th because emotions (especially mine) were running high, and what I thought we should do often changed faster than I could type out a full sentence. Plus, what they say about being pregnant rang particularly true for me, and all I have wanted to do for the last 6 weeks is sleep and sleep some more. Alas, those 6 weeks straddled final exams, a family reunion in Seattle, AND Christmas with all its gritty, hours-on-the-road-barely-awake travel time. I didn't have enough conscious time left to sort out my thoughts enough to write them down.
And to be perfectly honest, I wanted to be more than 12 weeks along before committing myself in this space, public as it is, to having a baby. I wanted to be undeniably, irrevocably past the abortion time limit. Its not like I bounced in and out of abortion clinics like a super undecided Ellen Page or anything. But I was scared, and unsure, especially in that first month. Plus, following the removal of the IUD, it looked bad for the embryo for a week or so, and prompted two more ultrasounds before I was given the all-clear. Much as I shuddered at the though of penning happy baby feelings, followed by a personal abortion story, I didn't want to be writing about a miscarriage either. But the baby made it, and has now graduated from embryo to fetus status, although in my head I only ever called it "baby". Taz calls it Bean.
Like a tearful Oscar holding actress, I would like to thank my mother, and father, for their undying support and love during the past few weeks. I don't know what I would have done if I hadn't decided (for once) to turn to my mother for advice before anyone else. Far from the explosion of anger and disappointment and accusations I was expecting, I got compassion and support and sound advice. My dad is thrilled about being a "pop" and calls every few days to ask in a hesitant, and slightly embarrassed tone, how I am "holding up with everything". Its cute and awkward, and I love it. My little sister has taken to calling me "prego" and mocking me for how often I have to rush to the bathroom. (I officially cannot handle a 3 hour car trip, or sleep through an entire night without groggily feeling my way to the toilet at least once.)
And Taz and I? We have spent COUNTLESS hours now pouring through I'm Pregnant, The Canadian Version And The Mother of All Pregnancy Books, and talking about our recently radically altered plans. Even though this is a super big scary step in our lives, it is in a direction we both wanted all along. Just....about 6 years too early. But I'm a firm believer in things happening for a reason, and with all the obstacles facing that little embryo in its first weeks, and the teensy tiny chance it had of surviving, I like to think of it as my strong, fierce little odd-defier. Here for a reason. And I love her for it.
Yes, I said her. I'm firmly in the GIRL camp. Only about 6 weeks until we will know for sure!
And as for a weekly countdown of sorts, here is what is running through my mind as of today.
Return to school: 5 days
Blood and Serum tests (GOD, how I hate blood tests): 9 days
Physical with the new wonderful doctor, Dr. Kane: 3 weeks, 5 days
Well, I feel better for having finally started writing! One of my New Year's Resolutions is to post at least 4 times a week, so it should be much more regular and interesting from here on out!
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