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.

Week Ten: Here come the waterworks

I thought I was emotional before?  Ha!  Week 10 is here to show me what’s up.  Good lord.  I’ve been useless at work, just sitting around feeling sorry for myself and then annoyed that I’m feeling sorry for myself, and we all know how productive that cycle is.

I suggested that we start taking weekly pictures yesterday – starting with Week 10 seemed like a nice idea.  Just kidding!  It was a horrible idea!  Who has two thumbs and hates the way she looks right now?  THIS GIRL.  The Lumberjack tried very nicely to take my photo, but I insisted on deleting every single one after crying about how ugly I looked in it.  Jesus.  The remaining 30 photos are going to be FUN.

On the plus side, I bought some maternity jeans at the Gap that fit just like my usual skinny jeans, so I still feel a little bit foxy, sometimes.  That helps.

I’ve decided I officially need to ask for a seat on BART.  I haven’t fainted again, but whenever I ride standing up, I feel really light-headed and unbalanced, so now I get to be the lady that asks for seats without having any visible reason to need one.  This is not a fun role to play.  I’ve taken to sticking out my stomach as far as possible and placing my hands around the bump in the Pregnant Lady Pose so that they believe me.

Last Friday’s attempt at asking for a seat was a little ridiculous.  I got on the train and stood up, since it was packed.  Halfway between stops, I realised that I needed to sit down, so I asked a man sitting next to me if I could have his seat.  “I’m pregnant,” I explained, doing the Pose.  As he stood up, an older lady who was standing a few rows away pushed through the crowd and said to me “Excuse me, but I really need that seat.  I’m old.”  I didn’t point out that she had passed at least 10 seats on her way to take mine, and that she could certainly have asked anyone else to stand up for her – instead, I said “I’m sorry, I’m pregnant and really need to sit down,” while glaring at the dude sitting next to me for not offering his seat up.  She yelled at me “WELL I FEEL LIKE I’M GOING TO FAINT.”  I looked up at her and said “Last week I DID faint.”  At this point the guy next to me offered her his seat, so she flounced into it, glared at me and said “When you’re 75, you’ll understand.”  I wanted to say “…that some people are assholes?  Thanks, but I already had that figured out.”  But I did not.  I am with child, you see, so I must be kind.

This morning, I asked for a seat again (I’m telling you, the Pose works).  As I sat down, a woman standing near me said “Oh my god, how are you doing?  I was there when you fainted!”  I looked up and it was the lady who helped me up and found my earring!  She told me that she’d been thinking of me since it happened.  I reassured her that everything turned out okay, and thanked her for being so awesome…and then she said “it was so weird, because when it happened I had JUST found out that I’m pregnant, too!”  WHAT.  We talked the whole way in, exchanged contact info, and are now going to be Pregnant Lady Friends.

This week I told one more person.  I think that brings the total to 6?  TOP SECRET, folks.  Man I’m sleepy.

Week Nine

This past week was pretty unremarkable.  The whole “with child” thing has settled in, and is no longer consuming all my thoughts.  I do still build up a very impressive shopping bag of Gap maternity clothes on a daily basis, but I’m getting better at x-ing out of the window before actually buying anything.

Being married is awesome.  The Lumberjack is awesome.  I can’t stop snuggling up to him on the couch (my favourite place to reside within the apartment, since I still feel lethargic and overall icky every night) and kissing his face.  His face is so kissable!  He is going to be embarrassed when/if I make this blog known to our Real Life Friends, but seriously.  LOOK AT THIS FACE.

cutest Easter Bunny ever

Exactly.  You cannot not kiss it.  Well, I cannot.  I would rather you not, actually.

So anyway, I regularly swoon over my good luck to be happily married to my best possible partner in a good-enough-for-now apartment with 2 great cats, working at a job that I like and that earns me enough to support our growing family.  Seriously, I’m fucking lucky.  I’ve been a little overwhelmed lately with acknowledging what a great place I’m in, and being grateful to everything that allowed me to get here.

Pregnancy hormones!  You are not just for weepy days anymore.

Anyway, back to Week Nine.  Everything was fine, really.  I told my dance troupe about the upcoming arrival, and they were amazingly excited and supportive.  I slept a lot, and tried to remember to eat a lot.  Things are supposedly getting bigger on the inside, but nothing’s really showing yet.  So, you know.  Just a regular week.  EXCEPT FOR THE FACT THERE IS AN ALIEN INSIDE ME.

Oh!  I discovered that I can easily get my heart rate up on the elliptical machine, without gasping for breath.  Since pre-alien I was running 30-45 minutes 4-5 days a week, not being able to exercise (other than a somewhat brisk walk, which, please) was killing me.  But the elliptical machine is magic!  I hit it up 4 times last week and felt great.  I’m still hoping that I’ll be able to run again soon, but I don’t feel quite so desperate anymore.

Now I think it’s time to eat again.  Sheesh.

yep, there’s a baby in there. CREEPY

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The Importance of Eating

So, yesterday I fainted on the subway.  THAT sucked.

I drank my usual protein shake before leaving the house.  While I was standing on the platform waiting for the train, I felt really anxious (that’s my body’s current way of alerting me to hunger), but since I couldn’t do anything about it, I just ignored it.  The train arrived and was completely packed.  I momentarily considered asking for a seat, but didn’t want to be the annoying whiny lady, so I just stood up against the closed doors.  The train was really warm, and I didn’t have enough room to take my coat off.  I tried to read my book, but it made me nauseous.  This all seemed uncomfortable, but not dangerous, so I just leaned back and looked out the window and tried to suck it up.

Suddenly, things were not right.  I thought I was going to puke, and desperately tried to figure out how exactly that would work on a crowded commuter train.  Then my hands got clammy, I got super dizzy, and everything went dark around the edges like tunnel-vision.  I thought “if I just sit on the floor, everything will be okay,” so I started to bend at the knees, when…

I was on the floor, and there were a bunch of REALLY freaked out business people standing around staring down at me.  A woman pulled me up and told me I fainted, then handed me my earring (plus backing!) that she had found on the floor.  Thanks, lady!  They all hustled me over to a vacated seat, then all stared at me like I was a wounded wild animal.  I told them “it’s okay…I’m pregnant,” like that made it okay instead of making it scarier.

Once I was seated, I suddenly felt much better, although still super anxious and jittery (aka hungry).  A woman standing next to me admonished me (sweetly), saying “you have to demand a seat!  no one will just give it to you – you have to ask!”  It’s true.

We arrived at the next stop, where most people get off, and the earring lady leaned over to me again to make sure I was okay.  I thanked everyone profusely for their help.  Then the conductor announced over the loudspeaker “we’re going to hold here for a few minutes due to a medical emergency on the train,” and I thought “holy crap, I wonder what happened!”

Ha!  *I* happened!  A paramedic suddenly stuck his head through the door and everyone pointed at me, and he said “would you like to get off so we can check you out?”  I initially wanted to say no, since I was already feeling way too center-of-attention-y, but went with him anyway.  We sat on the platform and they checked my blood pressure, oxygen rate, blood sugar levels, everything.  We decided that I need to seriously look into the whole eating concept.

I went to work for an hour, but still felt all crazy and anxious so I went home and spent the day on the couch.  With the Lumberjack force-feeding me every few hours.  And…I feel way better.

Today there was a seat available, so I didn’t have to ask anyone.  One stop later, a couple got on and the man asked me and the guy sitting next to me if either of us could get up so his pregnant wife could sit down.  The guy got up, so she sat next to me.  She turned to me and said “it’s so hard to ask for a seat – I’m glad my husband was here to do it!” and I almost hugged her.  We talked the whole way in about pregnancy and fainting and asking for help.  Turns out we work 3 blocks apart, so now I have my first pregnant friend!  Lunch dates in the near future.

Also in my future: EATING A WHOLE LOT.

End of Week Seven

We’re back from the honeymoon!  And…it was awesome.  A wonderful reminder that I picked the very best husband for me.  Now we are home, I am back to work, and without all the wedding things to distract me, I can actually think about: omg, I’m pregnant.

Update on my uterus:

Over the past few days I have had a panic attack each morning.  Those are usually rare for me, and I have a prescription for Ativan that I can take to manage them as needed.  Ativan will apparently give the baby gills, so I haven’t been taking it, and have instead been suffering through them.  Well, yesterday I realized – nope, not a panic attack.  Just OVERWHELMING HUNGER.  As a happy, healthy, privileged American, I’ve never experienced extreme hunger.  I had no idea what it was like.  Spoiler alert: it sucks.  So now I have to eat pretty much all the time.

Oh, food.  Half the time you revolt me, the other half you make me sing I’m so happy to be eating you.  I haven’t puked at all, but I’ve definitely been feeling queasy and icky most of the time.  No weird cravings, although I want to eat produce all the time.  ALL THE TIME.  I’ve become totally disinterested in ice cream and cake (this is very strange for me) but want to eat sorbet and other fruity things nonstop.  Damn.  Now I want frozen yogurt.

And the tears!  Oh, the tears.  Out of nowhere my whole face smooshes up and I totally fall apart.  For, about 5 minutes.  Then I feel normal again.  So much fun!  Yesterday I needed to eat a fruit/yogurt parfait for breakfast (seriously.  NEEDED), so the Lumberjack very sweetly took me to 4 different places until we found one (Starbucks.  omg THANK YOU) and I immediately felt normal again.  Then we went to a diner so he could eat too, and I burst into tears for being too high maintenance.  LBJ sweetly patted my hand, then opened up the napkin on the table and handed me a pencil, saying “here, draw me a picture of how it feels to be pregnant.”  LBJ, you get me like no one else.  He’s a keeper.

Questions for you, dear readers:

Books!  Which books do I read?!  The internet is giving me way too much information, and I have no idea what is actually useful.

Do I need stuff?  Are there things that I should know about?  Please, tell me your secrets.  I have no pregnant friends (that I know of) and haven’t told people about this yet so I feel like I’m missing out.  Like when I was a preteen and all the other girls were allowed to read Seventeen Magazine so they knew all the makeup secrets.  I want to join your club.