Flibberty

Still ever so pregnant

noreply@blogger.com (Flibberty) — Mon, 02 Nov 2009 00:36:00 +0000

And apparently I might stay this way for a while. I got all excited about my dilation and mucus plus (never thought I'd type that statement) and then it turns out that it's totally normal to be all dilated for weeks, and perhaps my mucus was more the result of an internal exam and nothing to get worked up about. Of course, I got worked up.

Then again, whatever, this is my first baby and will allow myself a few transgressions into the world of overly excited.

I still don't really know if what I'm feeling is, or has ever been, a Braxton-Hicks contraction. I suspect that yes, I've had these contractions, but I can't really tell when it's her moving, or when it's a contraction. The past couple of nights though, I've felt some serious tightness all over my uterus and that has got to be the contractions. It think. Christ, this shit is not as easy to identify as I feel it should be.

I have also pretty much outgrown ALL of my maternity clothing. Now my shirts don't quite contain my enormous belly, and I routinely flash a bit of lower abdomen to the poor unsuspecting stranger. I have also made a possibly permanent enemy of pants. I abhor spending any time in pants. The maternity ones just don't stay up for shit, and obviously there are no other options at this time. I spend most of my days in some variation on the yoga pant. In fact, on Friday I actually wore flannel pajama pants to the office, but I disguised them as part of my costume (pregnant lady in her pajamas, obviously) so it was fine. Plus, the were candy corn pajama pants.

Nevertheless, I am epically uncomfortable and I would like to go into labor as close to my due date as possible because I really would like NOT to go back to work before Christmas, I am ready now. In fact, I'm so uncomfortable that Brett and I went out and bought an enormous recliner yesterday. It's so big and poofy that it kind of looks like a Muppet. I love it. I fell asleep in it last night and let me assure you, I don't normally fall asleep easily these days. Plus, it's a rocker recliner, so it will be crazy useful for rocking baby. Yippee.

And now I must go attend to my ice cream. We had a very healthy dinner of a vegetable stir-fry, so I believe ice cream must be had to make up for the lack of fat and cholesterol.

And so it begins

noreply@blogger.com (Flibberty) — Thu, 29 Oct 2009 13:15:00 +0000

I know this doesn't mean it's going to happen soon, but as of yesterday I'm 1.5 cm dilated and definitely losing my mucus plug. AHHHHH!!!!!

Okay, will remain calm and return to job at hand, which would be actual job.

Any of you mommies out there dilate at 36 weeks and lose your plug this early too? Tell me your stories in gory detail.

P.S. I just goggled "mucus plug" and you should definitely not do this, because there are pictures. Just saying. Be wary. Also, there are 12,000 ways to spell mucus and I have no idea which way is correct.

Angst

noreply@blogger.com (Flibberty) — Thu, 22 Oct 2009 14:58:00 +0000

My dad is on a train right now, venturing down our way for the first time in about two years. We give him a break on this lack of visits because he has “the cancer,” but it is kind of ridiculous that he’s never even been to our house before and he only lives a six hour drive away. Nonetheless, I am excited to see him and spend the weekend with him.

He has been exceptionally great about this whole baby thing. He’s very excited to be a grandpa, but is also very supportive of us. This is opposed to the rest of my family who is making me sort of sad. My sister has given very little indication that she is even aware that I am pregnant. She has no interest in coming up here to see the baby and every time I talk to her it’s like she’s forgotten that I’m pregnant. I thought it might have something to do with my getting pregnant before her (she’s five years my senior) but I kind of don’t think that’s even an issue. I think she just basically doesn’t care. It’s weird because we’re very close. The only thing she seems to care about is dogs, because when our dog was sick a few weeks ago, she called twice a day to check on him, but with humans apparently she cannot be bothered. Gah.

Also, my mother. Oh my mother. She is mostly great about the whole thing, except for the fact that her primary concern is winning the grandparent race to see the child first. No one else is competing but her, mind you. My in-laws are coming on January 1st (at our request) and while my dad is coming down for the birth, he is primarily coming to help us out. My mother is very concerned about where she stands compared to my father and it makes me want to NOT call her when I go into labor. I know that’s cruel, but I cannot deal with people who stress me out when I’m dealing with giving birth.

There are several other things that are completely freaking me out these days:

1. The fucking flu. I’m all vaccinated (even the H1N1, though the stupid nurse started squirting it out of the needle before putting it in my arm, so perhaps I have a useless dosage coursing through my veins? Add that as a stressor too) but still concerned about it and worried that Brett will get it, or somehow the baby will not get any protection from me.

2. Daycare. We’re still waiting to roll off waiting lists and if we don’t get into a place I have no idea what we’ll do. Perhaps I’ll smuggle her into my office and just keep my door shut all day and play music really loud.

3. The dogs and what exactly we will do with them when I go into labor because our hospital is an hour away and it could very easily be Thanksgiving when all of the neighbors and friends will be either out of town or entertaining. I’m hoping we can rely on my dad, but that definitely means that mom will be pissed, but she’s just not very reliable.
Money because we need a new car and we need to pay for daycare (should we get into one) and somehow the thought of being a brand new mommy and the only bread winner is just a tad overwhelming at times.

4. Labor and fears thereof. Pain. Not being able to go natural and disappointing myself and my husband (and having to show up at the freaking birthing class reunion as the only one to get an epidural). I know this should not be a concern, as I should only be concerned for a healthy baby, but I’m being honest in my stupidity.

5. The general worries of not being a good enough mom. I assume this is natural, but every night when I go to sleep and look over the bassinet and think about the fact that soon there will be a tiny infant there who’s life is entirely in our hands makes me feel like the rest of this shit just doesn’t really matter. I just want to do right by our baby.

Baby Names

noreply@blogger.com (Flibberty) — Tue, 20 Oct 2009 14:18:00 +0000

I'm on Swistle's baby name blog today! How fun is that!

pumps and nazi's, in that order pretty much

noreply@blogger.com (Flibberty) — Mon, 19 Oct 2009 14:51:00 +0000

Hi. Don't have any new pictures for you. Working on it. Our camera is being difficult and I would really like a new one before baby, but I keep bleeding money due to purchase of such as things as breast pumps. For the love, these pumps are expensive. I know, they are well worth it and I finally (after agonizing over it for literally months) pushed the "purchase" button.

I did a lot of research before buying mine, and while everyone sings the praises of the Medela, I did not go with that particular model. Instead, I went with the Ameda because it was recommended by every lactation consultant I've talked too (which would be all of two) and a very normal, nice, big boobed lady in my LLL group. And yes, I've joined the breast feeding nazi's and so far, well I haven't seen anything particularly alarming about their behavior. They've been nothing but helpful and nice and I'm going to rely on them pretty heavily once baby is here and I need help with breastfeeding. Plus, I need some Mama friends, and many of these ladies I can see being friends with.

I also joined another Mama group, which is ridiculous seeing as I haven't even given birth yet, but I'm desperate for friends who are also moms because none of my friends have kids yet. Well, one just had her first 6-weeks ago, but she lives in California, so what good does that do me? Another one just found out she was pregnant, but is not due for 7 more months, so again, what good? I need me some mommy friends. I am stalking moms. I am crazy. If you have a child and live in the general vicinity of Northern Illinois, watch out if you see me at Target or the grocery store, I may come after you.

BELLY!

noreply@blogger.com (Flibberty) — Wed, 14 Oct 2009 13:51:00 +0000

Here I am at 28 weeks. Obviously this was six weeks ago, but we haven't taken a picture for a while (mostly because I'm all "NO! PICTURES!"). Also, no make-up and the hair has lost all semblance of a "style" because it grows like a weed and I can't afford weekly hair cuts. Tonight we have to get all fancied up so that Brett can be inducted into an honor's society (I shout "nerd!" because I am jealous as I was never invited into any type of society) so perhaps we will take a picture in our finery (finery means the last remaining dress that fits me and the maternity tights that sported a hole after minutes of wearing but I refuse to buy new ones because it is highway robbery!).

Also, thanks for the book recommendations! Off to the library ASAP. And down with J. Up.

Still pregnant

noreply@blogger.com (Flibberty) — Tue, 13 Oct 2009 20:45:00 +0000

I’m just going to jump into this thing as though it hasn’t been several months since I last stopped by. Okay? Okay.

Here I am, six short weeks before my due date. We are (about 98% sure) having a baby girl and in general, this pregnancy has been about as normal as can be. There are no red flags and all is progressing well. As far as we (including the medical folks involved) can tell, this baby is healthy and there is no reason for worry. And yet, I worry, because I am about to be a mom and that is what mom’s do. I love this baby with all my being, and I am so anxious to hold her that it’s practically all I think about or dream about. The first time I hold my baby, the millionth time I hold my baby, I cannot wait.

I am huge. Not overly huge, but certainly huge. I carry this belly around 24 hours a day, and yet when I catch a glimpse of myself in a mirror or see a picture Brett has taken of me, I am chronically astounded. I cannot believe how rotund my mid-section is. I am not remotely upset by this; instead I am exceedingly proud of my belly and will miss it. Aside from the fortune of having my new born in my arms, I will miss being pregnant. This is not to say that I am not miserable for a good portion of the day, for I certainly am, but I do enjoy all the thrills of being pregnant and doing this thing that only us womyns can do. It’s exhausting, uncomfortable, sometimes entirely unpleasant, but also it’s pretty awesome. Also, I like being able to bring her wherever I go and am so not thinking about the day I have to return to work and leave her at home. I like taking her with me.

Our goal is a “natural” birth. That is, one with no pain medication and as little intervention as possible. We took the class, Brett has a card in his wallet indicating that he is a “certified coach,” and I am appropriately motivated to DO THIS. However, I have no idea what “this” is going to be like and I just hope that whatever happens, I wind up with a healthy baby and that I too am healthy and that this is enough. I do NOT want this to be about the birth, but about the baby and this family: Baby, Me and Daddy. That’s all that needs to matter.

I just am so anxious for the time to be here, where I am in labor and we are officially on our way to holding our baby. I keep imagining the moment where she emerges and I really think I might die of emotion (and relief). I truly cannot imagine how big this moment is going to be and perhaps I’m over dramatizing, but I kind of don’t think so. This is the single most ridiculously amazing thing that I have ever endeavored to do and I fully believe that it will be emotionally all consuming and I want to have all my faculties about me for this.

Everyone tells me to “sleep now.” Yup, sounds like something you should say to a woman about to give birth, but you know what, this is the most useless piece of advice. Obviously I sleep as much as I can now, but that is already limited by my physical shape. My hips ache all night long, which keeps me up; I have to go to the bathroom, on average, five times a night, which obviously disrupts my sleep; and I still have to go to work and carry on with a life that will not stop for my discomfort. Thus, to all those “friends” of mine with their advice, SHUT IT.

Finally, I am in desperate need of more books to read. Brett requires a lot of study time these days, and due to the smallness of our house and the fact that we had to turn the study into the nursery, I can no longer watch TV much at all for it will disturb his studies (not something that concerns me, I am happy to oblige). However, that means that I now read, a lot. Problem is that I don’t know what to read. So tell me, what are some good books? I recently finished John Krakauer’s newest book (awesome and upsetting) and am now knee deep in the Witches of Eastwick because somehow I managed to have never read anything by John Updike. But, um, what next? Help a pregnant lady out?

entering controversial territory

noreply@blogger.com (Flibberty) — Thu, 14 May 2009 20:41:00 +0000

I am so very annoyed with a certain book I’m reading right now that I don’t know quite what to do about it. You see, I have always fully intended on receiving an epidural during labor. I still do, but because I like to be over prepared, I signed my husband and I up for birthing classes using the Bradley method. The teacher recommended that I read a book entitle Husband-Coached Childbirth, written by Dr. Bradley himself, who developed the Bradley method way back in the 1940’s.

I fear I have made a mistake investing in this book.

I’m sure that the breathing techniques I will learn, and the coaching techniques that Brett will learn will be helpful, but I can’t quite stomach the premise the dear Dr. Bradley gives us. You see, he begins his book talking about being raised on a farm and witnessing many a farm animal birth and wondering why those births seemed so pleasant and unassisted, where as human births need assistance and seem a lot more painful. He thinks it’s because we are not listening to our animal instinct. I think he should have watched PBS a little bit more.

I, admittedly, have not studied biology since (embarrassingly) high school, but I do know a couple of things: (1) Human babies have enormous heads, way bigger proportionally than any other mammal; and (2) Humans stand upright and therefore our pelvises had to change shape and size as opposed to animals who walk on all fours. These two factors make human childbirth a very different experience than any other animal. A much more difficult experience, in fact. You know where I learned this? Watching Nova, that’s where.

I also happen to know that many a time, cows need help in the birthing process. In fact, my husband was part of a calf birth that required the use of scary looking chains and I’m betting that that poor cow would have preferred the aid of an epidural and was not silently breathing, but instead mooing her pained head off.

All in all: F you Dr. Bradley.

DONUT

noreply@blogger.com (Flibberty) — Thu, 07 May 2009 15:38:00 +0000

I just ate a donut and it was about the best thing I have ever had in my life. For about a week now, my appetite has increased. I’m a bit nervous about this, because not only do I not want to gain a lot of weight with this pregnancy, but I’m also not supposed to. The doc thinks I’d be fine with the lower end of the weight gain range, and while that’s sort of embarrassing to hear in front of your husband, it’s fine. I mean, if you saw me, which you have, in pictures, you probably wouldn’t say I was obese, but you know, I’ve got some meat on my bones. Also, in case I haven’t brought this up enough already, my boobs are the size of boulders, mountain sized boulers. All in all, I am a sturdy woman and am in no threat of wasting away if I don’t eat a donut.

However, I am hungry. So hungry. What I should do is actually bring healthy snacks to work so that I don’t eat the donut, but that would entail an actual trip to the grocery store, and if there’s one thing I hate, it’s grocery shopping. So boring.

I guess I’ll just make up for it with a very healthy lunch and then cringe when I get on the scale at the doctor’s this evening.

We’re having our 12 week ultrasound/sonogram thing tonight and I’m nervous and excited. So nervous because I am a worrier and I worry that something has gone wrong in the past 3 weeks. There is no reason for my worry, I just like to keep it slowly simmering under the surface. I’m excited because we will hopefully hear a heart beat and get a good glimpse of the baby, which never gets old.

In a few months, when the baby is here, I’ll be so excited that I no longer have to have a wand stuck up my vagina, or gel slathered over my belly in order to look at my baby. That will be nice.

I talked to my uncle last night, the crazy one married to the aunt who was less than congratulatory upon hearing the pregnancy news. Anyway, he lectured me about responsibility and that OUR LIVES WILL CHANGE FOREVER. Why do people do this? As if we don’t know. Oh my God, my eyes are still sore from all the rolling they were forced to do during that conversation. Of course, the man was drinking a gin and tonic during the conversation, which was, no doubt, not his first. I have a special family.

Almost lunch time

noreply@blogger.com (Flibberty) — Tue, 05 May 2009 15:59:00 +0000

Last night Brett and I went to bed while it was still light outside. Brett wound up with a sinus infection and is on these nasty antibiotics that ravage his insides, and I am simply tired, all the time.

I read about 3 pages of my book and promptly feel asleep. All went according to plan until midnight when my body woke me up with THE WORST GASTROINTESTINAL PAIN OF MY LIFE. I was literally moaning in agony. I was also very worried because it felt a lot like cramps, which you know, aren’t a good thing to feel when you’re 11 weeks pregnant. I was a little bit freaking out, which I am wont to do, and in my midnight stupor, I sort of didn’t know what to do. Then it occurred to me that perhaps I should go to the bathroom. That’s when things really got interesting, and painful, and luckily it was all over in about 20 minutes. But oh my God, that was painful and awful and I can’t think of what I ate that would cause that level of distress because my entire diet consists of starch, apples and a few slices of Jarlsburg cheese for protein. Seriously, that’s it. I have the world’s worst diet right now.

The only thing I can think is that one of the perks of pregnancy is chronic constipation, and maybe my body just got so sick of being backed up that it orchestrated a very dramatic exit strategy. I don’t know. I’ll ask the doc on Thursday when we have our 12 week appointment. According to Dr. Google, it’s normal and fine and the baby was not harmed in the event, but mama sure was!

In other news, I want to make out with our new fence. A crew of four very skilled, very non-English speaking men spent all Friday putting our fancy new fence up. They did one hell of a job. I love it. It really highlights the fact that the rest of the yard is in poor shape, but at least we’re on our way to making it pretty. We basically spent the entire weekend shopping for the yard and plotting our strategy for Operation-Out-Do-Thy-Neighbor. We literally spent $200 on various seeds, sprays and lawn patches. Between our daily garden center sprees and the $3,100 dollar fence, our yard to soon to be worth more than the actual structure of the house. That’s fine, I think Brett would spend every moment outdoors if he could anyway.

Oh and the worst thing, which I had almost pushed out of my mind, is that fact that my car required $617.00 worth of stupid repairs yesterday. Is there anything worse than car repairs? No. In fact, we’ve decided that this is the final repair for the old girl. As much as I hate the idea of a car payment, that $617.00 is about two of them, so I’m sorry, but if anything else goes wrong, it’s good-bye Hyundai that has seen me through 5 states, 7 addresses and my first stab at adult life, and hello to something shiny and new. She just has to make it through the summer. Please!

Today is Okay

noreply@blogger.com (Flibberty) — Fri, 01 May 2009 15:51:00 +0000

Today I am feeling GOOD. Like really good. A little nauseas, but nothing I can’t handle.

Yesterday was just plain old stupid. Brett was a total sweetheart of course, and after he read my email he offered to drive to my office (an hour away) just to give me a hug. Obviously that would have been ridiculous, but it was nice to hear nonetheless.

In other baby related business (for there is no other now), we have recently begun telling all of our friends about our pregnancy and mostly it’s been all positive. I mean, it has been all positive, but I do have one friend who has been trying to get pregnant for over two years. She and her husband have been seeing a fertility specialist for over a year and she’s had all sorts of procedures, tests, taken numerous medications, and nothing has worked. I was kind of nervous to tell her I was pregnant because, well, if I were her it would be kind of difficult to hear that your friend got pregnant on the first try. This is especially annoying since one of our other good friends is also pregnant and all of her siblings have recently had babies.

I called her the other night and just blurted it out, because I am tactful like that. She was congratulatory, but really didn’t want to hear much about it. I understand. I can’t imagine how hard it must be for her and I really wish she could have some good news. She’s got a great life in general and a career she loves, which is something I don’t have, but not being able to get pregnant must be incredibly frustrating. Especially when everyone around you seems to be knocked up.

It’s funny the way some people react to the news. My aunt, for example, who is a little bit crazy to begin with, had the worst response out of all informees. She has no children of her own and because of this, is particularly invested in the lives of my sister and me. She is also married to a complete wack job. I mean, truly, a man with some problems. Anyway, when I told her she said, “Are you sure you want to do this?” Um, excuse me? Is that not the stupidest response ever? I mean, I’m telling you when I’m 10 weeks pregnant, I think that choice portion of the pregnancy is pretty much over, and also, YES, of course I want to do this you mean cow.

Sorry, I didn’t realize how angry I was about that comment. But truly, why do people say the things they say? Even if you think it’s a bad idea, just be happy for me and leave your judgment for behind my back.

On the lighter side, I am recently obsessed with, of all things, Toaster Strudels. I crave them in the morning, and I try not to have them every day because they’re, you know, bad for you. However, the idea of a healthy breakfast often makes me want to cry. In fact that idea of vegetable in general makes me want to cry. I have had salad twice since becoming pregnant, and both times I’ve gotten sick and puked. I have no issues with fruit, in fact I find apples, strawberries and grapes absolutely delicious, but vegetables are evil. Good thing I can stomach the vitamins.

Have a happy weekend. Brett and I are going on a proper date tonight involving dinner out and a viewing of Hugh Jackman and my secret boyfriend from Friday Night Lights. Yippie!

Feelings

noreply@blogger.com (Flibberty) — Thu, 30 Apr 2009 13:43:00 +0000

I’m having a rough day today. I spent my hour long commute fighting off tears and now that I’m at the office I’m continuing my reign of crazy. Just to illustrate, there are window washers here and I started crying when they came in to wash the windows in my office because my desk is such a mess that they couldn’t even get to the windows to wash them. These gentlemen didn’t even speak English and couldn’t explain to them why I was upset. I suppose that even if they did speak English it would be difficult to explain the crazy to them.

If only I was showing already so folks would sort of give me a break, maybe.

I don’t even know what’s wrong, except everything. Last night I couldn’t sleep because our dog is on antibiotics and they make his stomach upset and he puked on the bed. Brett got upset and there was some stress and then I was AWAKE with the stress. I am very sensitive to the STRESS of every living being in our house. Apparently Bear now bit open his scab on his rear end wound and bled all over the other blanket that he didn’t puke on. I feel so sorry for him, and also STRESSED because I know it upsets Brett and that makes me anxious. Also, there is only so much laundry a family can tolerate.

I am crazy.

Brett called this morning and we had a chat about aforementioned dog issues and I couldn’t even tell him anything honest, so I had to email him. I had to email my own husband the truth about my STRESS and propensity to cry and not sleep. I just couldn’t do it live and in person because I was afraid that he would just get annoyed with me or exacerbated or just wouldn’t care. My husband is a very kind man, so that would probably not be the response, but this is the anxiety level I’m talking about.

I had to email my own husband with a statement of feelings. What?

Then again, we do sometimes have to write things down, even when I’m not hormonally crazy because we both have a hard time getting our words out sometimes.

I’m just feeling really raw and also swollen as my finger fat is puffing out above my wedding ring and my face is now the size of an overripe pumpkin.

This is why I like reading about babies and watching “A Baby Story” on TLC. It reminds me of why my body is doing this and why my heart is 10 sizes too big and all together too sensitive.

The Dictator

noreply@blogger.com (Flibberty) — Wed, 29 Apr 2009 15:35:00 +0000

I know, I've been all sorts of dead to the Internet world for months, and now I'm back with a vengance. But we were keeping this whole baby thing very very quiet, and now we're allowed to talk about it, so I'm alive with the sound of my own typing.

Here's the thing, I love that I'm pregnant. Love it! I have never been more happy about anything in my whole life. However, I am physically miserable. Every day I feel like crap and, I didn't know it was possible, but I hate my body more than ever and I'm not even showing yet. Thus, it is remarkable that I'm still all sunshine and flowers. I must really want this kid.

I have taken to calling the fetus (it's a fetus now, according to "What to Expect") "The Dictator." It dictates things after all, from what I eat to the fact that I now nap on a regular basis, which is completely NOT something I would normally do.

Maybe the name will change over the course of the pregnancy, but right now it's The Dictator.

Brett has been great, though he's been sick with one thing after another himself, so he's not exactly cheerful these days. Poor guy. Also, with both of us not feeling tip-top, the house is looking like a project for that dude on Oprah that clears out clutter. It's bad. However, we did break down and contract a fence installation for the back yard. This was HUGE because Brett prefers to do things himself, but with all the projects we have going on and the fact that we're both struggling, paying for the work seemed the prudent thing to do.

BORING.

The dogs have been exciting in a very unfortunate way. Millie, the little poodle, was diagnosed with and underdeveloped vulva in the summer of 2007. Some lady dogs have this problem, and it causes incontinence when she sleeps. We had it under control with daily estrogen supplements, until we went to Texas in March and boarded the dogs at the vet. Ever since then she's had almost nightly accidents. We took her back to the vet and they did an exam and x-ray and found nothing. We've basically decided that it's like some sort of PTSD as a result of us leaving her. She is nothing if not incredibly sensitive and very very attached to her humans. Thus, we are trying to cure her of it like it's a behavioral problem and not a physical problem, because apparently that's what it is. She now has to wear this little denim diaper to bed, and when I get up to pee for the fourth time in a single night I will take her outside. So far so good, but odds are that just by writing this I am jinxing us.

Bear, our pomeranian, was not to be outdone. Last Thursday, I was at the office when Brett called to indicate that Bear had "a problem." I was about to leave early because I had come down with a cold and on top of the nausea it was just too much to take. When I got home I saw that Bear had a bloody rear end. Cue freak out and call to the vet. They couldn't get him in for a few hours, so I sat with him wrapped in a towel on the couch. Poor little guy. When the vet finally did get him in they took one look at him and said that he had an abscessed anal gland. Yummy! A week later, he's still on the mend with a very nasty looking butt wound and some high test pain killers and antibiotics.

We love them anyway. It's all good training.

Brett's got exams next week, and eyes so blood shot he looks like he's permanently stoned. I will be very happy when next Thursday comes and he is done with his last exam and we have our final doctor's appointment of the first trimester and hopefully we will hear a strong and healthy heart beat.

The Dictator needs some sort of carbohydrate now. Ta ta.

great with child, pea in the pod, bun in the oven, pregos, what have you . . .

noreply@blogger.com (Flibberty) — Tue, 28 Apr 2009 14:59:00 +0000

I am a little over 10 weeks pregnant. It’s pretty much awesome except for the parts that suck, like the nausea, HUGE hurty boobs, needing to pee all the time, and lack of ability to stay awake for more than 2 hours at a time. I’m like a text book case of first trimester symptoms. I’m not complaining at all though, it’s so exciting and I can’t believe that we’ll be parents in a few short months.

The way I found out was kind of stupid. I mean, I took a pee test on March 19th, before work. I get up really really early, like 4:30am early, so when I got a positive result I was a little befuddled. It’s hard to really understand anything at 4:30am, so wrapping my head around a positive pregnancy test was a little much. I left for work without even telling Brett, mostly because I wasn’t convinced that it truly was positive. I mean, the line was definitely there, but it seemed a little “light,” so I was skeptical.

Luckily there is a Walgreens but feet from my office, so once I got to work I bought three more tests. When all of them came up positive, I was mostly convinced and called Brett and told him that I had a positive test. I didn’t tell him I had 4 positive tests, because, you know, that would be crazy. I then called the doc and got an appointment that afternoon.

Brett met me at the doc after work and we had our first ultrasound. I know that’s not normal operating procedure, but I hadn’t had a period since October because of the Lupron treatment, so it was necessary to determine how far along I was. The ultrasound showed a little block dot in a white blob. I was definitely pregnant with something, even if it wasn’t really looking much human yet. They determined I was due on November 24th and sent me off for my blood tests.

About two weeks later I started getting nauseous and so tired. I could nap for three hours in the afternoon, and then still go to bed at 9pm and sleep a full 8 hours. Brett was sort of amazed, but I kept reminding him that I’m growing a person, and that his physical part is over, so he should let me nap.

The nausea has been by far the worst. It’s unrelenting on some days, and then gone on some other days. I thought I was out of the woods last week, as I felt no nausea for about 4 days straight. But then it came back on Saturday night and hasn’t really let up since. I’m just hoping that it goes away by week 13 so that I can enjoy the second trimester.

I haven’t gained any weight yet, thank goodness, because I’m not really supposed to as I’m pretty well padded to begin with. I have gained some girth in the boob area, which is extremely frightening because that’s already where I carry most of my weight to begin with. It’s horrifying actually. I already told Brett that after we’re done with babies, I am immediately getting a reduction. I don’t care about cost. I am so over these things.

We’ve since had two more ultrsounds. The last one actually looked like a baby, which was so awesome. I get all teary every time and we have print outs of the ultrasound pictures on our fridge. It’s so cool. Seriously.

We did watch a Nova episode about the “miracle of birth” or somesuch. I did fine until the part where the lady actually gave birth and they showed it. All I said was, “I am not doing that.” I know, I will do it, but oh my god, why does it have to be so difficult. I mean, I get that my pelvis has to be small in order for me to walk upright, but it seems like nature should have done a little better job of accommodating us womens and our childbirthin’ needs. I’m just glad I live now and live in a first world country. I salute all women who do it the “natural way,” but I will hopefully be receiving drugs and any sort of ameliorative care the hospital wants to offer. I am no hero.

stream of semi-consciousness

noreply@blogger.com (Flibberty) — Tue, 24 Feb 2009 18:47:00 +0000

There is too much cancer in my family. That’s all I can say about that. I talk a lot and love to share personal information (too much), but really, mostly I can’t talk about my dad with anyone but my husband and my sister. It’s just too scary to talk about it with anyone else because then you have to contend with their reactions and I’m also all sorts of awkward when people try to give me sympathy. Basically, I am an emotional fuckwit when it comes to this particular situation. I’m on auto-pilot and I haven’t really let my guard down about it yet. I’m dreading the day the guard comes down. Perhaps this weekend, when we’re in Minnesota with my family. However, he’s an emotional fuckwit as well. Apple does not fall far from the tree. Also, he’s the one who taught me that crying is weak and one should not do it. Good lesson dad. Really, I’d rather cry than be all percolating with under-the-surface emotion that is sure to be released at a very inopportune time. I’m looking at rush hour or work-related meeting.

Ugly intro paragraph, that.

There’s a black squirrel in the tree outside my office window, and I’m wondering if it’s naturally black or just so dirty from living in the city that it’s colored black. I remember the pigeons in the Tube in London and how several of them were so dirty, and many were also missing feet from being run over by the subway. That always freaked me out. These poor little amputated British pigeons.

Who’s in an uplifting mood today? (rhetorical, don’t answer that)

I think I would be feeling more upbeat today if I had slept a sufficient amount last night. We didn’t go to be until later than usual because of the never ending bathroom remodel. Brett is remarkable in his abilities, because there is now a shower where there was not but a few days ago. He is a saint for doing the lion’s share of it. I bop in and throw down a little paint, or sweep up some dust on occasion, but mostly it’s his show. He’s a good man. Let that be shouted from the roof tops!

Also, let it be shouted that today is a grand day because it is an excuse to eat something deliciously Cajun, and also listen to our President eloquently tell Congress to stop fucking shit up and get with the program. I love him, he makes swoon a bit. Quite a change from that other guy.

And, have you noticed that the light is different now? It’s spring time light. It stays around longer and seems brighter. Probably because it is. Thanks for the never ending ride, rotation of the planet; you sure keep things interesting and desperate come February. Maybe you could just move a little faster for a while. I’m sure no bad would come of that.

Back to work. Hi ho, hi ho.

Couples Meme . . .

noreply@blogger.com (Flibberty) — Thu, 19 Feb 2009 15:53:00 +0000

. . . stolen from Dooce.
What are your middle names? Mine is Marie. His is Alan.

How long have you been together? Three years. It seems like a lot longer though, because we’ve been through A LOT in these past three years.

How long did you know each other before you started dating? No.

Who asked whom out? Um, I’m not sure if I remember, but I think it was more of a “you’ll be in the same place I’ll be, so let’s meet up.” Not all that official really.

How old are each of you? We’re both 31.

Whose siblings do you see the most? Mine, I think. We live far away from his and mine, so really it’s kind of a crap shoot. We’ve actually spent more days with his brother than my sister in the past year, but have seen my sister more frequently. Does that make any sense?

Which situation is the hardest on you as a couple? The usual suspects of money and communication with a soupcon of major life decisions.

Did you go to the same school? Nope. I went to some very Midwestern private schools, and he went to some very Western public schools.

Are you from the same home town? Nope - he’s from Montana, I’m from Minnesota
.
Who is smarter? Depends on the category or subject: In some areas, I am, and in others he is. We’re pretty smart on the whole though, in my not-so-humble opinion.

Who is the most sensitive? ME! For sure. I could win sensitivity battles without even trying. It’s ridiculous.

Where do you eat out most as a couple? We LOVE to eat out and do it more frequently than we should (though we cook at home frequently too, basically we just eat a lot). We typically eat anywhere that’s NOT a chain; the more hole-in-the-wall the better.

Where is the furthest you two have traveled together as a couple? I suppose the Bahamas.

Who has the craziest exes? He does. No contest
.
Who has the worst temper? I’m going to say him, and hope he doesn’t get mad.

Who does the cooking? Both of us, and frequently together. Cooking and eating are pretty much our favorite activities.
Who is the neat-freak? Neither of us. I’m more the clean freak than he is, though, and I’m not all THAT clean, like at all.

Who is more stubborn? Him? Me? I don’t know if either of us are really all that stubborn.

Who hogs the bed? The dogs. Last night he said, “I hope that when we have a kid, the dogs sleep with it.” It’s true, that’s a good reason for us to have one.

Who wakes up earlier? Usually we wake up at the same time, except on the days I go into the office, and then I’m up earlier.

Where was your first date? A rodeo in Billings, Montana.

Who is more jealous? I don’t think either of us is particularly jealous, but if anyone had to be more, it would be me.

How long did it take to get serious? I’d say after our second date. It was pretty much a no-brainer.

Who eats more? He can eat more in one sitting than I can; I could probably put away more in a day.

Who does the laundry? It defaults to me because I wear more clothes.

Who’s better with the computer? He is.

Who drives when you are together? He does. I prefer it that way for a couple of reasons: (1) My commute to the office is long and treacherous, thus anytime not driving is okay with me; (2) He critiques my driving sometimes and that makes me nervous and annoyed.

Too lazy to post on FB and also still skeptical of FB

noreply@blogger.com (Flibberty) — Fri, 06 Feb 2009 15:41:00 +0000

25 things about me:
1. In junior high and possibly beyond, I had a major crush on Peter Jennings.
2. I like the word “bailiwick” but am not terribly fond of “nadir.”
3. I have really good ideas when I’m driving.
4. I love recipes and magazines involving recipes and cooking.
5. My husband is a better cook than I am, but I’m a better baker.
6. We are loathe to admit that we are foodies and possibly winos.
7. I’ve had 4 speeding tickets in my life: Two in the same day, and one the first day of my job here in Chicago. Neither of these days do I want to remember in any detail.
8. I am a pretty good driver, really.
9. I used to be a pretty good piano player. I have since forgotten how to play, but I will learn again now that I’ve got a fancy new piano.
10. I can type really really fast.
11. I’m afraid of the dark and things that go bump in the night. Our children will have to check my closet at bedtime.
12. I am also very afraid of snakes and semi-trucks crushing me and/or forcing me off of a bridge. I have some fear issues, clearly.
13. I love dogs.
14. I am ridiculously and painfully sensitive.
15. If I could do it over again, I’d be a nurse.
16. I picked up my love of home-grown humor (i.e. Garrison Keillor) from my father, my appreciation of classical music from my mother, and my love and toleration of weird stuff from my sister. They are all great people.
17. I have never been a good sleeper. Too anxious about everything.
18. I average four cups of coffee a day.
19. We routinely hang out with people our parents’ age. Not on purpose.
20. I routinely talk to myself during the day, and I routinely refer to myself via my maiden name. E.G. “Get it together lastname!” or “left shoe on left foot, lastname!”
21. I’ve become a better person in the past few years.
22. In fact, I’ve become a better person in the past month.
23. I have very good taste in television, but for two digressions, one on MTV and one on TLC.
24. I wish I had thicker, fuller hair. Any product that claims to provide you with same is a liar.
25. I believe I have a charmed life.

noreply@blogger.com (Flibberty) — Tue, 27 Jan 2009 15:23:00 +0000

I’m having one of those twitchy days when I’m all worked up about something and everything but all of these things are nothings in reality. I’m just sort of freaked out and over caffeinated about all sorts of stupid shit and it’s really fucking annoying. I’m such a peculiar sort of crazy that it really requires an advanced primer to be sent to all of you just so you have a basic understanding of the underlying elements of my psychosis. It’s just too hard to try to cover in a more succinct format.

One thing stands out is that I cannot for the life of my watch an episode of Oprah without breaking down in tears. Last night we got home from our first dog obedience class (dear God, why is every dog trainer I’ve ever met a lunatic?) and I thought I’d iron some clothes while watching television. So I switched on my DVR’d episode of Oprah, the one about obese teens, and cue the blubbering. It broke my heart and it made me want to have my own session of “I’m angry because . . .” as I too am angry about so many things and would like to voice those things instead of eating brownies and anxiously fretting over rudimentary crap (see above). Oh help me, I love Oprah and I also love my husband because I’m pretty sure he’d listen if I did want to engage in one of those sessions. If only we could schedule it in.

Yes, that’s the worst part of my generalized anxiety. There just isn’t enough time to do all the things that need to get done. Everyone is in this boat, I know, I just feel like I am ill-equipped to deal with all the chaos and stress surrounding our house right now. I fully believe that the state of your house reflects the state of your brain and if you saw our house right now you’d appreciate the gravity of my concerns. Shit is a mess. This is primarily due to the ongoing bathroom remodel, which has been seriously waylaid by Brett’s back injury, but also because we have a tiny house and a lot of crap and it’s winter and thus we are SHUT IN the tiny house of disorganization. It’s making us crazy.

I cannot wait for spring. I’ve never felt so desperate for warm weather in my life.

of sneezes and hormones

noreply@blogger.com (Flibberty) — Fri, 16 Jan 2009 18:08:00 +0000

I feel like shit today because I do believe I caught a cold from Brett. So now both of us feel like shit and unfortunately the dogs are incapable of doing things like grocery shopping and snow shoveling. According to my favorite weather man, Tom Skilling, we will be inundated with another few inches of snow tomorrow. Mother fucker.

I did go to the GYN yesterday and he was encouraged that I have about a 75% chance of being pregnant in the next few months. This is good. He also thought that if my cycle doesn't return (it went away because of the Lupron) by April 15th, he'll start me on Clomid. Anybody ever taken this drug? I'm curious if there are any fun side-effect to this one, becuase I so enjoyed the side-effects from Lupron (sarcasm there).

In other news, my jeans are looser today. I'm happy about this but think it may be do to the hormone changes (coming off of Lupron) and not anything I'm doing. We haven't worked out since last year. Granted last year was only two weeks ago, but still. I don't think I'll be working out until next week given my sudden onset sickness. Once again, mother fucker. All the good intentions I have about health and fitness tend to get over shadowed by LIFE. Stupid annoying LIFE. If I can't keep up with it now, I don't know how I'll deal when there's a little one, but we'll work on that when and if it happens.

I also already started doing my taxes, which means two things: (1) I'm a nerd; and (2) mama needs a new pair of everything.

The best nurses in the world . . .

noreply@blogger.com (Flibberty) — Wed, 14 Jan 2009 19:12:00 +0000

. . . have fur.

Easier (and better, way better) than a bread machine

noreply@blogger.com (Flibberty) — Wed, 14 Jan 2009 16:32:00 +0000

Hi.

It's snowing AGAIN. Normally, I wouldn't care, but here's the reason why this is not a normal snow: I HAVE TO SHOVEL IT. Brett is laid up with a lumbar strain, which sucks for him, and for me because he cannot do the normal things he does, which include shoveling. The kicker is that I already have a bad back thanks to a little something called spondylolisis (say that five times fast), which means that when I shovel it's so incredibly half-assed that it's barely worth doing. But if I don't shovel, then the dogs start peeing on the drive-way or side-walk or deck because they don't know the difference between a snow covered deck and a snow covered yard, but I do. Thus, I will half-assedly shovel some snow. . . later.

Now I will post a bread recipe that has a devout following in our house. I found it a book that Swistle recommended called The Tightwad Gazette. So here it is, and it's very easy and quite delicious and I will never buy store bread again . . .

5-6 cups all-purpose flour (you can substitute whole-wheat flour for 1 to 2 cups)
2 tablespoons dry yeast
2 tablespoons sugar
1 tablespoon salt
2 cups hot water
1 tablespoon sesame or poppy seeds

Mix 4 cups of the flour with the yeast, sugar and salt. Pour in hot water and beat 100 strokes, or 3 minutes with a mixer. Stir in the remaining flour until the dough is no longer sticky. Knead 8 minutes (I use the dough hook on my Kitchen Aid mixer and just let that roll around for about 8 minutes and it turns out fine). Place the dough in a greased bowl, and cover with a damp towel. Let rise 15 minutes (I have found that the rising time is more like an hour, but our house is incredibly dry, so the time may vary). Punch down (good fun). Divide into 2 pieces. Shape into 2 round loaves and place on a baking sheet. Cut an X 1/2 inch deep on top with a sharp knife. Brush with water and sprinkle with seeds. Place on the middle shelf of a cold oven. Place a cake pan of hot water on the lowest shelf. Heta the oven to 400 degrees. Bake 40-50 minutes until deep golden brown. YUM.

In other news, I'm going to the gyne tomorrow to discuss getting pregnant. Hopefully he'll reassure me that things will go alright and I should stop reading all the horrible things about Lupron that I find when I randomly google Lupron and pregnancy. God help me, I'm my own worst enemy.

noreply@blogger.com (Flibberty) — Mon, 12 Jan 2009 21:55:00 +0000

Just an FYI . . . Brett maybe pulled a muscle or is experiencing some nasty sciatica or radiculopathy from all the luggage handling he did during our vacation, only to be followed by snow shoveling upon our return. At least that's what he hopes it is, and not some bizarre tropical disease he picked up on our sojourn. Unfortunately, he had to go to class today and in an effort to actually make it to class (he could barely stand up last night) he took a very powerful pain killer that was left over from some procedure or another and now he's sick from that. The boy just can't win. Also, how on earth do you get addicted to those nasty pain killers? I have taken a total of 2 in my entire life, and on both occasions I became ferociously ill.

Two Words

noreply@blogger.com (Flibberty) — Mon, 12 Jan 2009 16:38:00 +0000

Slim Fast.

Strikes fear into your heart doesn't it? I know. Mine too. Except, it's not that bad really. Mostly becuase I'm not really on a diet, I'm just on a quest to not be so fucking hungry. I figure that if I down a Slim*Fast every now and again, maybe I won't snack so much when I'm at the office. The office has this funny way of making me eat when I shouldn't. I think it's something to do with mundane day to day duties that suck the life out of me and the thought of a Snickers bar is the only that gets me through the day. Anyway, we'll see how it goes.

Also, I quit drinking. Full stop. That should reduce my weekly caloric intake by about a million calories (not quite, but almost. I love my wine). It's okay though, because I'm hoping I'll be pregnant in a little bit and I'm hoping that I will feel better and maybe my boobs will start shrinking (until I get pregnant, at which point I assume they will blot out the sun with their enormity) and maybe I'll sleep better and maybe I'll stop spilling wine all over the neighbors six-year old child (true story). Here's hoping.

Oh, and our vacation was completely lovely. Pictures eventually, maybe from Brett? Although he is suffering from post-vacation cold/immobility due to searing pain in his buttocks, so maybe after that's over (seriously, the poor guy is in a lot of pain and please send him get well thoughts).

Over and out good buddies, for now.

Move over 2008, here comes something better

noreply@blogger.com (Flibberty) — Wed, 31 Dec 2008 17:21:00 +0000

Look, there were a lot of wonderful things that happened this past year, but honestly, I'm so freaking glad that it's over. Brett and I were going over all the shit that went down over the course of the last year, and oh my hell, that was a lot of stuff to deal with. I have a tremendous amount of relief knowing that I can file it all away as DONE and NEVER AGAIN. Oh my God, so much relief.

This year I hope to settle down and just enjoy the gifts I have, and not lament the losses or lacks in my life. I have a lot of things to treasure, if only I'd stop concentrating on the "only ifs." I wish you all a Happy New Year.

Bringin' da crazy

noreply@blogger.com (Flibberty) — Tue, 30 Dec 2008 21:02:00 +0000

First thing’s first, I totally started up again because Tess did. It’s true. I read her post and thought, man, why aren’t I blogging anymore? Because it’s all about me, all the time, apparently.

Secondly, I’ve had a lot of strange things happening to me lately; strange in the way that they can’t all be coincidences. Someone once told me, or maybe it was in a book (who am I kidding? It was probably in a magazine) that when shit like this happens, it’s just because you started paying attention and noticed things that would normally go unnoticed. The used the example of the number 23. Apparently you tell people that 23 is the most common number, and suddenly people are looking for 23 and noticing it, whereas they normally would not pay any attention. The result is that they see all these 23s and are like, “you’re right, 23 is totally common!” I say that’s very NOT fun and I prefer my logic: It’s magical and mysterious and I am special!

I totally believe in the crazy shit though. I mean, not the really crazy shit (mostly), but I am a firm believer in the unknowable and the special and the universe working in ways that I don’t understand (some may call them “mysterious ways” :). Maybe it’s just a way for me to keep hopeful in times of stress, or happy in times of sadness, but I like it when the universe sort of winks at you and I take comfort in the weirdest of weird things. And believe me when I say I am not a very religious person in the usual meaning of that term. It’s just nice to feel like maybe, just maybe, I’m on the right path even if I mostly feel like I’m flailing down life’s path like a monkey doing cartwheels. I sort of use these “coincidences” as the universe’s little mile-markers and it gives me a sense of peace and trajectory that I mostly lack.

And now we will return to the slightly less insane ramblings of your’s truly . . . except that I have to go now, so that’s all you get.