How much can I blame on pregnancy hormones?

In case you were wondering how much of a treat I am to be with, I just responded to the Lumberjack telling me I was wrong by getting into bed with my raincoat and sunglasses on (at 9:30pm) and refusing to look at him. Then he asked if I wanted to go out on a date Thursday night so I crossed my arms and said (yelled?) “I’LL HAVE TO THINK ABOUT IT.”



So far this Magical Second Trimester is a big fat lie.  I can’t even brush my teeth in the morning without gagging like crazy, heaving over the sink with a mouth rapidly filling with spit.  Awwwwwesome.

I have been craving salads like a crazy person.  I went through an entire bottle of salad dressing in one week, all on my own.  I just sent the Lumberjack an email reminding him that YES I NEED ANOTHER ONE.  Seriously, friends.  Trader Joe’s Pear Champagne Vinagrette Is The Shit.  I would drink it if that wasn’t totally disgusting.

The Lumberjack came with me to my second doctor’s appointment last week, and saw his first ultra-sound.  He had the same response as I did – “oh wait, woah, it’s MOVING.”  It’s been really exciting and sweet to watch him (and me, honestly) come around from WHAT THE HELL DO YOU MEAN YOU’RE PREGNANT to OMG BABYYYY!!!  Okay, neither of us are quite there yet.  But it’s getting so exciting to know we’re creating our own family.  Yesterday morning when I didn’t want to get off the couch, what with all the bullshit nausea, he patted my stomach with a stern face and said “be nice to mommy, fetus.”  Okay maybe you had to be there.  But he’s just so cute.  And it’s fun watching him tell people the news, because he gets so smiley.

Oh look!  It’s a smitten blog entry again where I swoon all over my husband.  Sheesh.  In other news, he wants to name the baby Ajax.  I responded with “no comment.”

Bizarrely warm February weather = more hikes

Week 13…second trimester wooooooooooo


Little has changed this week, which is actually a bummer.  I was expecting all the glitter & rainbows that everyone says happens during the magical second trimester, and instead I got more nausea, even more intense than it’s been so far.  Like, mouth filling up with watery spit omg-I’m-about-to-puke nausea.  I think this is what most women have been having for weeks, while I was complaining about feeling a little hungover, so for that: I’m sorry for not understanding.  Please take back these feelings – I do not want them.
In my non-pregnant life, things have been moving along normally.  My hypochondriac Lumberjack finally got on my health insurance and saw a doctor who confirmed that no, he does not have cancer that is going to kill him in 6 months.  So, that was good.  Had our quarterly costume sweatshop with the burlesque troupe where I spent a few hours sewing rows of lace onto bras while Head Lady In Charge re-vamped the costume’s current bustier top into a babydoll dress so that I won’t be exploding out of it when we perform in April (aka when I am 20 weeks pregnant).
Oh, and the Lumberjack told his whole family about the Little Terrorist, so it is officially known.  Still keeping it off the Facebook for now, but it’s no longer crazy top-secret (confidential to my favourite A3: you are forgiven).
Okay, back to work.

the amazing maternity jeans from Week 12

Oliver & the Little Terrorist: Week 13, A View From Above

Week 12: OMG maternity jeans

Last week of the first trimester!  Despite feeling much better over the past 2 weeks, I’m REALLY looking forward to the Promised Land of the Unicorn Fairydust Magical Second Trimester.  I was promised glittery rainbows and dancing ponies.  I am ready.  The fetus (which we have taken to call The Little Terrorist) is supposedly the size of a peach now.  THERE IS A PEACE-SIZED HUMAN INSIDE MY BODY.  Crazy.

My friend Liz gave me 2 pairs of maternity jeans that I now live in.  Seriously, why doesn’t EVERYONE wear maternity jeans?!  They are amazing.  So comfortable, and yet my butt still looks fantastic.  Thanks, fancy combination of elastic and denim.

We visited a birth center on Friday, and totally fell in love.  I’ve always wanted to do a homebirth, partially because I was born at home (and look how great I turned out!).  But honestly, once I actually got pregnant and realized “this apartment is the ‘home’ I will be giving birth in,” it became way more real and scary.  Our apartment is too messy!  What about the cats?  The bathroom is tiny!  And so forth.  So the birth center is perfect – it has all the great elements of a home birth, but it’s in a fixed location where I know they have everything they need.

Also: there is a tub.  A huge tub!  The Lumberjack and I can be in there at the same time!  Woo hoo water birth.  Although the Lumberjack has asked that he not be expected to catch the baby, since he is convinced (and I agree) that he will probably drop it.  We’ll leave that to the professionals.

It’s been 2 hours since I ate last, so I now feel like my insides are consuming themselves.  Time for oatmeal.

Week 11

I finally got my energy back.  I feel like a normal person again.  This is nice – I no longer swan around the house looking for a place to lie down.  However, this is also disconcerting – now there’s really nothing whatsoever making me think I’m pregnant.

Well, other than this:

(that’s me taking a picture of myself, in case the angle was confusing)

Most people still don’t know about the contents of my uterus, which is becoming pretty difficult.  Especially since I had to take a work trip for 2 days with a coworker, and couldn’t explain why I was starving every 2 hours, but only ate half a sandwich before declaring myself full.

sidenote: the trip was also difficult because she is insufferable, but that has nothing to do with me.  That is her own damn fault.

additional sidenote: we were on said trip when the Prop 8 ruling came out.  I got all excited; she didn’t know what Prop 8 was.  That’s fine, I guess – sure we live RIGHT HERE where everything is happening, plus we’re attorneys so you’d think we’d follow this kind of thing, but whatever.  But after I explained, “Prop 8 was an attempt to outlaw gay marriage – the Ninth Circuit just declared it unconstitutional,” she LITERALLY SAID: “I don’t follow that stuff, to be honest, but that’s good for them if that’s what they want.”  Jesus christ.  This is what is wrong with the world (yes!  this is the whole problem!  right here!  I have solved it!) – this bullshit idea that things are only important to those who are immediately affected by them.  Why should she, straight married lady, give a shit about gays having equal rights?  Why should men give a shit about women’s health?  Why should upper class people give a shit about the poor?

If there’s one thing I hope I teach this fetus of mine, it’s that we do not all live in our own little tiny worlds, unaffected by everyone around us.  We live TOGETHER.  We are a COMMUNITY, whether we like it or not.  Prop 8 getting called unconstitutional is important for everyone because it creates a more equal and just society.  Everyone benefits from that.  Whether or not many of my friends have the legal right to marry isn’t just a random thing to be shrugged off by my stupid coworker.  It’s something to fight for, and something to honor.  I’m fucking pumped that the Ninth Circuit recognized that Prop 8 was based on nothing but bigotry and hatred, and my eyes literally tear up (and NOT because of the hormones) every time I realize how many wonderful, loving relationships are getting the legal recognition they deserve.  The fact that my dumbass coworker just shrugged the whole thing off as if it’s just a random request that a few people had just made me want to punch her in the face.

Okay, that was more than a sidenote.

So…what are YOU doing with your placenta?