Ok, 1 day shy. And all the big things seem to be well:
- I'm gaining a decent amount of weight, but surprisingly not too much
- My midwife is happy, not that I've seen her in person since Week 14, but details ... (humorously, I failed to tell Dr. Incompetent in City X I was moving. Nobody from the office has called to schedule another appointment or ask what's going on. Not that I'm surprised).
- No spotting, cramping, etc.
- For that matter, practically no p-symptoms at all, except for one new one. [As for my new p-symptom, well, it's psychosomatic but it's pretty awful: I have an exercise-induced UTI. My bladder can hold practically any amount of water overnight (almost 2 liters yesterday night, I was worried that I was a bit dehydrated) or while sitting through a meal. Or driving. But the moment I start walking I have to pee. Like every 20 minutes. 4 times in one museum. Two emergency-dashes into office buildings in a 45 minute walk. It is truly absurd.]
And, I'm pretty sure, at least 3-4 good hardy kicks this week. All on one day. Verified by JD.
Which leaves me in a rather puzzling situation. Now that I am (clearly) showing, people like to ask about the baby. Does she 'like' hiking? Or ice cream? I don't usually lie about little things for no reason, but every time I admit that I have no idea because I have only felt the baby move once I get the most concerned looks, and it freaks me out. Drs. Google suggest it is ok to not feel 'much' movement at this point, but everyone else seems to. I'm trying not to worry and I'll have another dopplering on Sept. 8th and insist on a growth scan at that point if there's been no dramatic improvement, but at this point it's just terrifying to think that I am at the cusp of viability and might be losing the baby.
Since the beginning I have been panicking about little things which turned out to be fine. I have in fact had a completely healthy, uneventful pregnancy. For goodness sakes, I went hiking today for about 4 hours in the Utah sun and felt great afterwards. It's just that I kept promising myself I didn't need to rent a doppler because I'd be feeling movement any day now. And to realize I'm at 24 weeks and definitely nothing close to daily movement, let alone every 3-4 days is scary. I'm going to try and enjoy the last week of our vacation and ignore these looming thoughts because I know there's still not much that could be done to intervene at this point. And JD keeps telling me that everything else has worked out and I should just trust my body, and his judgment is usually better than mine ... but why can't I find a decent online article which would assure me that women with posterior placentas can have healthy, normal babies they just never feel?
Saturday, August 30, 2008
Thursday, August 28, 2008
I was onboard with the DNC
Between the rain and several flights in the past few days I've seen quite a bit of TV coverage of the DNC and it seemed well-run and enthusiastic and mostly on-point (Bill Clinton's speech was fabulous today) ... until I looked at the newscast and saw "Live: Stay-at-home Mom." CNN's formal subtitle.
I thought it was a joke so I went to the DNC webpage. Nope. Beth Robinson, a stay at home mother, spoke after Bill Clinton. If you google her, it seems like she's a military wife, volunteer, mother, person living with disabilities - all sorts of interesting, relevant things. In fact, you can read her full comments online. They're pretty uninteresting, but certainly not focused on her employment status. They are about the challenges of military life. But nope, our DNC formally listed her exclusively as a stay at home mother. (Can you even imagine them doing that for a man? Next up: A working father.) Ugh.
I thought it was a joke so I went to the DNC webpage. Nope. Beth Robinson, a stay at home mother, spoke after Bill Clinton. If you google her, it seems like she's a military wife, volunteer, mother, person living with disabilities - all sorts of interesting, relevant things. In fact, you can read her full comments online. They're pretty uninteresting, but certainly not focused on her employment status. They are about the challenges of military life. But nope, our DNC formally listed her exclusively as a stay at home mother. (Can you even imagine them doing that for a man? Next up: A working father.) Ugh.
Tuesday, August 26, 2008
23 weeks 2 dpo and ... maybe, a kick!
Having made it well past 23 weeks without any clear kicking/movement and having been told since week 18 by various medical professionals that it would -this week- I had 2 scenarios in my mind tonight:
a. Something is terribly wrong. My last ultrasound was at 16 weeks. It has been way too easy to control my weight gain (something that has never been easy in my life). Clearly there was some type of restricted growth going on (or worse) and I should plan on spending Sunday morning (when I hit the doomed 24 weeks Drs. Google suggest as the -very last point- to feel movement) in an ER in Utah getting scanned ...
or
b. I am not yet an earth mother in touch with my body and I have been too tired/stressed/busy/distracted to notice any movement. Oh, and I also fall asleep within about 5 minutes (seriously) of getting into bed so maybe I'm just sleeping through it (did I mention we're traveling? And even when not hiking I think we spent at least 4 hours yesterday and today walking plus a trip to the pool to swim laps ...). But this option just does not bode well for trusting my body.
But what could possibly confirm my failure as a gestating mother more than having JD feel the kicking at the same time as me? Or notice it before me?
So, just about exactly 23 weeks, 2 days and 2.5 hours post-ovulation, sometime shortly after customs had cleared us to reenter the U.S. aboard the Vancouver-Seattle evening Amtrak, I thought I felt something. And JD, being bored, put his hand on my stomach to check. Which is to say within about 5 minutes of noticing something weird going on in my stomach JD confirmed that it felt like kicking.
So, dear loyal readers, is that possible? Could I really have not noticed anything until now and is it feasible that JD would be able to feel movement at the same time as I first feel it? It was also quite high up - almost belly button level? Is that possible?
Excited, embarrassed, and greatly relieved that there still appears to be something going on in there.
ps - If you haven't read my post from yesterday and are catching up on blogs quickly, please consider glancing at it.
a. Something is terribly wrong. My last ultrasound was at 16 weeks. It has been way too easy to control my weight gain (something that has never been easy in my life). Clearly there was some type of restricted growth going on (or worse) and I should plan on spending Sunday morning (when I hit the doomed 24 weeks Drs. Google suggest as the -very last point- to feel movement) in an ER in Utah getting scanned ...
or
b. I am not yet an earth mother in touch with my body and I have been too tired/stressed/busy/distracted to notice any movement. Oh, and I also fall asleep within about 5 minutes (seriously) of getting into bed so maybe I'm just sleeping through it (did I mention we're traveling? And even when not hiking I think we spent at least 4 hours yesterday and today walking plus a trip to the pool to swim laps ...). But this option just does not bode well for trusting my body.
But what could possibly confirm my failure as a gestating mother more than having JD feel the kicking at the same time as me? Or notice it before me?
So, just about exactly 23 weeks, 2 days and 2.5 hours post-ovulation, sometime shortly after customs had cleared us to reenter the U.S. aboard the Vancouver-Seattle evening Amtrak, I thought I felt something. And JD, being bored, put his hand on my stomach to check. Which is to say within about 5 minutes of noticing something weird going on in my stomach JD confirmed that it felt like kicking.
So, dear loyal readers, is that possible? Could I really have not noticed anything until now and is it feasible that JD would be able to feel movement at the same time as I first feel it? It was also quite high up - almost belly button level? Is that possible?
Excited, embarrassed, and greatly relieved that there still appears to be something going on in there.
ps - If you haven't read my post from yesterday and are catching up on blogs quickly, please consider glancing at it.
Sunday, August 24, 2008
Two Cultures
JD and I got back to our apartment in time to watch the closing Olympic ceremonies, and one thing that stuck out was the audible skepticism of the reporters on the 'genuineness' of the Chinese spectator's enthusiasm. And for some reason it struck a chord (perhaps because it was also echoed in a rather nasty-toned op-ed in the local newspaper this morning about the Chinese Olympics). I understand the criticism of China and I'm not sure the reporters were wrong in their comments, it just started me thinking ...
My long-time readers may realize that JD and I are from very different backgrounds, but I was careful in my first few months of blogging not to talk to much about his family background. JD is from China and he was raised there until the age of 11. Of course, there's nothing wrong with that and it makes for very interesting conversation, except that I am from a threatened religious community which is deeply opposed to 'marrying out' of the faith, and since I did so rather recently and had to answer a number of very nasty attacks in person, I did not want to also open myself up to such a discussion in the internets. But the closer we get to D-Day, the more I want to think about raising a biracial child in America and about how very different our childhoods were.
The other thing is that JD is avowedly American. You'd never guess he was raised abroad. Although we don't remember how we met, I do remember that many of our first hours together were spent in the 'writing center' at our college where JD worked as a rare freshman hire tutoring those of us who had yet to learn to write.* He has no accent and a much better vocabulary than me. He went to a well-recognized high school in NYC, followed by 2 excellent universities. He loves baseball and hot dogs and beer much, much more than I ever will. His family has a much more enthusiastic Thanksgiving than mine, and JD has been volunteering for local political campaigns for years. And of course, I'm a first generation American raised by immigrants in the South so I definitely missed some Americana in my youth. Which is what makes the moments of disjuncture when JD reveals he was raised in a completely different culture so surprising.
We went for a swim this afternoon and after I beat JD twice to the end of the lane, I made some comment about his crawl stroke. And he gave me a puzzled look and told me he'd never taken swim lessons. I'd never asked, I just assumed he had, but of course the moment he said it I realized what an idiot I was to assume that a poor family in rural China would have had access to an unpolluted pond or a pool.
I've also been thinking about my tone in terms of JD's questions about child-rearing. [But first, for posterity, JD and I walked past a baby in a bassinet stroller with a blanket over top. He gives me a puzzled look and later asks "if you cover a baby up like that, will it go to sleep?" Works for parakeets, but I'm not sure it works for babies ... ]. The thing is that I was raised in a community with lots of children. Because of his parent's ambitions for him and visa and immigration issues, JD was raised by his elderly grandparents. This means that there were no other little children in his social circle until he got to school, and no little siblings because of the one child policy. So JD isn't clueless about babies because he was disinterested but because he has very rarely been in an environment where there are little children around to interact with.
I don't think we will have any large conflicts about child-rearing because of our backgrounds, but there are all sorts of things that I take for granted. For example, JD has read no American/British children's literature. He's never heard of Curious George or Padington. He's never been to swim lessons (for the record, I could swim before I could walk because of my prodigious size). He has no experience with American preschools or kindergarten or even the different systems we use here to teach children to read (yesterday he asked me my stance on phonics. Um, no idea). I want us both to contribute equally to parenting (at least in terms of decision-making even if it's not possible to do so in terms of hours because of our wage differential) and I need to think about how to make sure that the practices that I grew up with and take for granted do not take over our house. I don't have any clear thoughts on how to achieve this, but I certainly wanted to explain my characterization of JD's cluelessness and to start to think about the decisions we will have to make in the future (even if we don't have to decide about reading strategies just yet).
* And when he asked me out freshman year, I obviously refused being fully committed to marrying within my faith. I do not plan to post here exactly about how we worked out those differences, except to say that it took us four years to go on our first date because we were talking about the relevant issues. JD was raised without religion. We have a kosher, observant Jewish household and JD is fully committed to raising Jewish children. That means that he will be a full participant in all of my family's traditions because I think it is much harder to give children a strong sense of religious identity when they see ideological tension within their own homes.
My long-time readers may realize that JD and I are from very different backgrounds, but I was careful in my first few months of blogging not to talk to much about his family background. JD is from China and he was raised there until the age of 11. Of course, there's nothing wrong with that and it makes for very interesting conversation, except that I am from a threatened religious community which is deeply opposed to 'marrying out' of the faith, and since I did so rather recently and had to answer a number of very nasty attacks in person, I did not want to also open myself up to such a discussion in the internets. But the closer we get to D-Day, the more I want to think about raising a biracial child in America and about how very different our childhoods were.
The other thing is that JD is avowedly American. You'd never guess he was raised abroad. Although we don't remember how we met, I do remember that many of our first hours together were spent in the 'writing center' at our college where JD worked as a rare freshman hire tutoring those of us who had yet to learn to write.* He has no accent and a much better vocabulary than me. He went to a well-recognized high school in NYC, followed by 2 excellent universities. He loves baseball and hot dogs and beer much, much more than I ever will. His family has a much more enthusiastic Thanksgiving than mine, and JD has been volunteering for local political campaigns for years. And of course, I'm a first generation American raised by immigrants in the South so I definitely missed some Americana in my youth. Which is what makes the moments of disjuncture when JD reveals he was raised in a completely different culture so surprising.
We went for a swim this afternoon and after I beat JD twice to the end of the lane, I made some comment about his crawl stroke. And he gave me a puzzled look and told me he'd never taken swim lessons. I'd never asked, I just assumed he had, but of course the moment he said it I realized what an idiot I was to assume that a poor family in rural China would have had access to an unpolluted pond or a pool.
I've also been thinking about my tone in terms of JD's questions about child-rearing. [But first, for posterity, JD and I walked past a baby in a bassinet stroller with a blanket over top. He gives me a puzzled look and later asks "if you cover a baby up like that, will it go to sleep?" Works for parakeets, but I'm not sure it works for babies ... ]. The thing is that I was raised in a community with lots of children. Because of his parent's ambitions for him and visa and immigration issues, JD was raised by his elderly grandparents. This means that there were no other little children in his social circle until he got to school, and no little siblings because of the one child policy. So JD isn't clueless about babies because he was disinterested but because he has very rarely been in an environment where there are little children around to interact with.
I don't think we will have any large conflicts about child-rearing because of our backgrounds, but there are all sorts of things that I take for granted. For example, JD has read no American/British children's literature. He's never heard of Curious George or Padington. He's never been to swim lessons (for the record, I could swim before I could walk because of my prodigious size). He has no experience with American preschools or kindergarten or even the different systems we use here to teach children to read (yesterday he asked me my stance on phonics. Um, no idea). I want us both to contribute equally to parenting (at least in terms of decision-making even if it's not possible to do so in terms of hours because of our wage differential) and I need to think about how to make sure that the practices that I grew up with and take for granted do not take over our house. I don't have any clear thoughts on how to achieve this, but I certainly wanted to explain my characterization of JD's cluelessness and to start to think about the decisions we will have to make in the future (even if we don't have to decide about reading strategies just yet).
* And when he asked me out freshman year, I obviously refused being fully committed to marrying within my faith. I do not plan to post here exactly about how we worked out those differences, except to say that it took us four years to go on our first date because we were talking about the relevant issues. JD was raised without religion. We have a kosher, observant Jewish household and JD is fully committed to raising Jewish children. That means that he will be a full participant in all of my family's traditions because I think it is much harder to give children a strong sense of religious identity when they see ideological tension within their own homes.
Saturday, August 23, 2008
thoughts on travel
I have only 2 complaints about travel in Canada in this very delicate condition of mine (did I ever mention how much the motherhood maternity saleswoman laughed at me when I said I was looking for hiking pants? and they had to cover my ankles because of snakes in utah?). Neither is particularly serious, but both are still a bit annoying:
1. Listeria. In case you didn't know, the regulation of unpasteurized dairy products is state jurisdiction in the U.S. In some states it's legal to sell and serve in restaurants unpasteurized milk and soft cheeses (NC, for example). In others, totally illegal (WA, for example). Which means you have to ask when you travel, but everyone knows what you're talking about. Here in Canada (specifically Alberta and B.C.), not so much. In fact, one new father and 2 pregnant women told me they'd never heard of listeria or any danger from eating soft cheeses while pregnant. And yes, far more cheeses here are unpasteurized (like feta, which I've never, ever seen unpasteurized in the U.S. Please don't think I'm always obsessive, I have to read labels very carefully because I keep kosher but will eat dairy products out). Fine. It makes sense that this very rare condition which only affects the immuno-suppressed and pregnant women doesn't exist unless you know to worry about it. Chalk one up for the foreigners on having calm, relaxed pregnancies.
And JD basically told me to stop harrassing clueless waiters and just give up on eating cheese while traveling in Canada. Except, I already don't eat meat when traveling (dun-dun ... foreshadowing). Yes, I'm a fussy eater in restaurants because of all my food restrictions (between the religious ones, obsessive pregnancy ones, oh, and the GI problems) but I love eating and I'm very appreciative when people get me real information and I always place a back-up order so the wait staff can just put that in if they're too busy/unconcerned to check (i.e. I'll have the cheese sandwich if the cheese is pasteurized, but if you're not sure or it's not just give me bread with lettuce ...)
So, we're driving along the highway listening to the local news and what should be on it: an outbreak of listeria in several different provinces of Canada. Suspected source: deli meats. Sigh of relief from JD.
2. Bathrooms. I have no shame running into restaurants I have never eaten at to pee. Or stopping on the side of the highway when there are no rest areas. But both options are exceedingly hard to really on while traveling. And I am yet again amazed by how few public restrooms/how not understanding people are. 2 small examples from today.
a. We're about to get on a 3 hour bus ride when I hear the bus driver mention the bathrooms will be locked during the ride. So I ask if he can unlock them (i.e. are they broken - no?). He says maybe, but the rather belligerent ticket sales woman tells me to go to the bathroom in the bus depot. I assure her I have done so, but still will need another bathroom in the next 3 hours. She repeats slightly louder to go to the bathroom in the bus depot. I glower. She informs me that using the bus while in motion can be "inconvenient." I glower and do not inform her that as a former resident of a house without running world (in the developing world) and a veteran of years of greyhound bus trips (remember, that's how we started this trip for nostalgic reasons) I can pee on a moving bus. Instead, I politely inquire if they can unlock the bathroom door or plan a stop. She tells me to run inside and she'll have the bus wait (I have just been to the bathroom). JD arrives just as I loudly exclaim in her direction "I'm pregnant. I can't hold it for 3 hours. You will either have to unlock the door or make a stop." He yet again asks why I can't be calmer/politer/more ladylike in public ...
b. Fast forward 12+ hours. Going to a small, fringe theater performance in a different city. They are keeping everyone waiting outside until they open the house, so I ask if I can sneak in to use the bathroom. The woman at the door informs me there isn't an unlocked bathroom in the building. Um, what??? It's a show. In a weird, empty neighborhood. It's not terribly long, but long enough. ???? So JD escorts me across a divided highway to a rather grimy McDonalds where ... you have to ring a bell for the manager to come unlock the bathroom. Seriously. I took a photo of the sign by the bathroom but can't get it to load at the moment.
And back to JD's newfound confidence in this whole proposition, yesterday he asked me about different theories of parenting so I very poorly summarized attachment parenting, ferberizing, the differences between how he was raised and 'standard' American practice ... We have talked about these issues a lot before, but never in terms of the specific, never in terms of what we should actually do. But apparently he's thinking it through ... 'cause today we're standing in line someplace and the woman in front of us hands her adorable little girl a full apple juice. JD waits until they are out of earshot to ask if I plan to let our daughter drink apple juice? Yes, we've apparently resolved all of our future sleep/food/swaddling/language issues and we're on to whether toddlers should drink sugary drinks ... so, anybody have any suggestions on what to give JD to read? I have yet to pick up a parenting book I like, although I'm sure that I will stock a shelf of them in case of emergency (someday I'll write about how my mother would pull down her secret cookbook and make up cures to our aches and pains ... the placebo effect got me through most of my childhood bruises ...) but I want JD to be a full participant in making these decisions, which means he needs some basic information on the different options. I honestly don't have any strong thoughts on different parenting styles, perhaps because it all seems so far in the distance, but also because in 15 years of babysitting I have seen parents break every fundamental rule in every book and they all raised interesting, well-adjusted, healthy children.
1. Listeria. In case you didn't know, the regulation of unpasteurized dairy products is state jurisdiction in the U.S. In some states it's legal to sell and serve in restaurants unpasteurized milk and soft cheeses (NC, for example). In others, totally illegal (WA, for example). Which means you have to ask when you travel, but everyone knows what you're talking about. Here in Canada (specifically Alberta and B.C.), not so much. In fact, one new father and 2 pregnant women told me they'd never heard of listeria or any danger from eating soft cheeses while pregnant. And yes, far more cheeses here are unpasteurized (like feta, which I've never, ever seen unpasteurized in the U.S. Please don't think I'm always obsessive, I have to read labels very carefully because I keep kosher but will eat dairy products out). Fine. It makes sense that this very rare condition which only affects the immuno-suppressed and pregnant women doesn't exist unless you know to worry about it. Chalk one up for the foreigners on having calm, relaxed pregnancies.
And JD basically told me to stop harrassing clueless waiters and just give up on eating cheese while traveling in Canada. Except, I already don't eat meat when traveling (dun-dun ... foreshadowing). Yes, I'm a fussy eater in restaurants because of all my food restrictions (between the religious ones, obsessive pregnancy ones, oh, and the GI problems) but I love eating and I'm very appreciative when people get me real information and I always place a back-up order so the wait staff can just put that in if they're too busy/unconcerned to check (i.e. I'll have the cheese sandwich if the cheese is pasteurized, but if you're not sure or it's not just give me bread with lettuce ...)
So, we're driving along the highway listening to the local news and what should be on it: an outbreak of listeria in several different provinces of Canada. Suspected source: deli meats. Sigh of relief from JD.
2. Bathrooms. I have no shame running into restaurants I have never eaten at to pee. Or stopping on the side of the highway when there are no rest areas. But both options are exceedingly hard to really on while traveling. And I am yet again amazed by how few public restrooms/how not understanding people are. 2 small examples from today.
a. We're about to get on a 3 hour bus ride when I hear the bus driver mention the bathrooms will be locked during the ride. So I ask if he can unlock them (i.e. are they broken - no?). He says maybe, but the rather belligerent ticket sales woman tells me to go to the bathroom in the bus depot. I assure her I have done so, but still will need another bathroom in the next 3 hours. She repeats slightly louder to go to the bathroom in the bus depot. I glower. She informs me that using the bus while in motion can be "inconvenient." I glower and do not inform her that as a former resident of a house without running world (in the developing world) and a veteran of years of greyhound bus trips (remember, that's how we started this trip for nostalgic reasons) I can pee on a moving bus. Instead, I politely inquire if they can unlock the bathroom door or plan a stop. She tells me to run inside and she'll have the bus wait (I have just been to the bathroom). JD arrives just as I loudly exclaim in her direction "I'm pregnant. I can't hold it for 3 hours. You will either have to unlock the door or make a stop." He yet again asks why I can't be calmer/politer/more ladylike in public ...
b. Fast forward 12+ hours. Going to a small, fringe theater performance in a different city. They are keeping everyone waiting outside until they open the house, so I ask if I can sneak in to use the bathroom. The woman at the door informs me there isn't an unlocked bathroom in the building. Um, what??? It's a show. In a weird, empty neighborhood. It's not terribly long, but long enough. ???? So JD escorts me across a divided highway to a rather grimy McDonalds where ... you have to ring a bell for the manager to come unlock the bathroom. Seriously. I took a photo of the sign by the bathroom but can't get it to load at the moment.
And back to JD's newfound confidence in this whole proposition, yesterday he asked me about different theories of parenting so I very poorly summarized attachment parenting, ferberizing, the differences between how he was raised and 'standard' American practice ... We have talked about these issues a lot before, but never in terms of the specific, never in terms of what we should actually do. But apparently he's thinking it through ... 'cause today we're standing in line someplace and the woman in front of us hands her adorable little girl a full apple juice. JD waits until they are out of earshot to ask if I plan to let our daughter drink apple juice? Yes, we've apparently resolved all of our future sleep/food/swaddling/language issues and we're on to whether toddlers should drink sugary drinks ... so, anybody have any suggestions on what to give JD to read? I have yet to pick up a parenting book I like, although I'm sure that I will stock a shelf of them in case of emergency (someday I'll write about how my mother would pull down her secret cookbook and make up cures to our aches and pains ... the placebo effect got me through most of my childhood bruises ...) but I want JD to be a full participant in making these decisions, which means he needs some basic information on the different options. I honestly don't have any strong thoughts on different parenting styles, perhaps because it all seems so far in the distance, but also because in 15 years of babysitting I have seen parents break every fundamental rule in every book and they all raised interesting, well-adjusted, healthy children.
Wednesday, August 20, 2008
Contented Musings
* Disclaimer: Please don't read this if you are not in the mood for happy glowing.*
In part because I still feel like this pregnancy is tenuous* I want to record all the happy moments I've had in the past few days. I'm still stressed about school and nervous about things going wrong, but JD and I have been having a really great time together and I hadn't realized how much we had put off just enjoying this phase of our lives.
I also hadn't realized how much infertility had been a burden hanging over us for years. As I wrote in my initial sidebar introduction when starting this blog, I was diagnosed with infertility at a very young age. And JD and I were friends for a number of years before we started dating. In fact, it was the night before our college graduation that we went out to lie in the woods and watch the stars (very, very chastely I regret to inform you) and I confessed my two greatest fears for JD in terms of our relationship. The first I haven't written about here, but in short, I have a long family history of depression and when suffering from a bout of depression in high school I did some very dumb things. I wanted JD to know that. And I wanted him to know that I was infertile. Before our first date. We had been good friends for a long time and I didn't want to start dating without being upfront about my particular issues.
Of course we talked about these things very minimally the first couple of years we dated, although conversations with my sister brought the issues up as did my quarterly endocrin appointments. And I guess I never fully realized how much they had affected him until we started treatments. I wrote in the past about JD's lack of interest in reading medical articles or exploring our different options, but I'm not sure if I wrote about how unsure I was about his enthusiasim for this whole project (at this particular moment). He never talked about wanting kids or showed interest in other people's babies, and I realize now that that was all defense.
Since we left on our honeymoon, JD has been laughing and waving at cute babies. He's been pointing out different strollers and slings and asking all sorts of questions about what we plan to do in terms of parenting. We might just have chosen a name. He kissed my belly unprovoked for the very first time yesterday while he was waiting for coffee.
And for all that it's possible to create the (obviously false) illusion that I now have a double chin and that my minimally toned arms actually have about 2 inches of flab hanging on them (already!), I love this weight gain and I love having a visible bump. I'm not exactly sure why I would rub it (no itchiness, no stretch marks, no hair growth, nada) except to make sure other people noticed, I love being able to look down and know that something is going on in there.
I have always wanted children, but it would be a lie so say that I wasn't worried about having a 'third wheel' along on all of our future travels and dinner plans. Especially since we haven't had so much time as a couple with our crazy schedules and commutes. But I love realizing that it's no longer the two of us. We're already 2.5, hopefully to be 3 by the end of this year. And I feel comforted every time I realize that our little fetus is along for the ride. And on that note, photos from the trip (including the bump):
The view from our canoe:
More views:
The wonderbaby sees her first (and hopefully not last) glacier:
The bump in full glory (yes, I know it's immodest but I'm finally enjoying my curves).
Um, and that's only 22.5 weeks. I think it's a good thing I haven't passed a scale on this trip ...
*yup, no movement yet. And a few other little concerning things like I realized that I am sleeping through the night without a problem, even when I chugged a liter of water right before bedtime. Makes you wonder how big this insider is.
In part because I still feel like this pregnancy is tenuous* I want to record all the happy moments I've had in the past few days. I'm still stressed about school and nervous about things going wrong, but JD and I have been having a really great time together and I hadn't realized how much we had put off just enjoying this phase of our lives.
I also hadn't realized how much infertility had been a burden hanging over us for years. As I wrote in my initial sidebar introduction when starting this blog, I was diagnosed with infertility at a very young age. And JD and I were friends for a number of years before we started dating. In fact, it was the night before our college graduation that we went out to lie in the woods and watch the stars (very, very chastely I regret to inform you) and I confessed my two greatest fears for JD in terms of our relationship. The first I haven't written about here, but in short, I have a long family history of depression and when suffering from a bout of depression in high school I did some very dumb things. I wanted JD to know that. And I wanted him to know that I was infertile. Before our first date. We had been good friends for a long time and I didn't want to start dating without being upfront about my particular issues.
Of course we talked about these things very minimally the first couple of years we dated, although conversations with my sister brought the issues up as did my quarterly endocrin appointments. And I guess I never fully realized how much they had affected him until we started treatments. I wrote in the past about JD's lack of interest in reading medical articles or exploring our different options, but I'm not sure if I wrote about how unsure I was about his enthusiasim for this whole project (at this particular moment). He never talked about wanting kids or showed interest in other people's babies, and I realize now that that was all defense.
Since we left on our honeymoon, JD has been laughing and waving at cute babies. He's been pointing out different strollers and slings and asking all sorts of questions about what we plan to do in terms of parenting. We might just have chosen a name. He kissed my belly unprovoked for the very first time yesterday while he was waiting for coffee.
And for all that it's possible to create the (obviously false) illusion that I now have a double chin and that my minimally toned arms actually have about 2 inches of flab hanging on them (already!), I love this weight gain and I love having a visible bump. I'm not exactly sure why I would rub it (no itchiness, no stretch marks, no hair growth, nada) except to make sure other people noticed, I love being able to look down and know that something is going on in there.
I have always wanted children, but it would be a lie so say that I wasn't worried about having a 'third wheel' along on all of our future travels and dinner plans. Especially since we haven't had so much time as a couple with our crazy schedules and commutes. But I love realizing that it's no longer the two of us. We're already 2.5, hopefully to be 3 by the end of this year. And I feel comforted every time I realize that our little fetus is along for the ride. And on that note, photos from the trip (including the bump):
The view from our canoe:
More views:
The wonderbaby sees her first (and hopefully not last) glacier:
The bump in full glory (yes, I know it's immodest but I'm finally enjoying my curves).
Um, and that's only 22.5 weeks. I think it's a good thing I haven't passed a scale on this trip ...*yup, no movement yet. And a few other little concerning things like I realized that I am sleeping through the night without a problem, even when I chugged a liter of water right before bedtime. Makes you wonder how big this insider is.
Monday, August 18, 2008
All's well
All's well in vacation-land. I will definitely post photos next time we have internet access.
Still no clear movement. I keep reading that early kicks can feel like 'indigestion' but I think this means a clear pain, etc. not just a stomachache, of which I've had plenty. At least I hope my daughter doesn't feel like a stomachache ...
JD this morning added to his fine repertoire of comments 'admiring my new figure' as he would put it. As I was getting dressed he looks up, smiles and says "Wow, you've got an underbelly."
I forgot to post my best good news last week because it arrived so very late ... as I was going through security at Logan airport, just as expected (and 4 days and 5 minutes after the test was completed) . I passed my first GTT! I passed with flying colors, to be precise: 109. That's better than a normal test for me. Of course, we'll repeat the one-hour test in a month and probably throw in the 3-hour test for good measure, but for now I'm eating ice cream at least twice a week.
And now, a few random thoughts I had while trudging up a very steep mountain today. Despite the slowness, there are some definite benefits to hiking while pregnant:
1. Even if all I'm doing is walking from the car to the restrooms, I get serious looks of admiration. And since I'm not usually leading the pack in sportiness, I appreciate it.
2. JD and I almost always bring a single hiking backpack and swap it back and forth. No more. He has been carrying everything (including more water than normal, probably a pound of snacks, spare clothes for me, plus the usual large camera and tripod, etc.) When I am feeling energetic I carry my point and shot camera. When not, I make him carry it.
3. I can turn around at any point just by saying I don't feel great. No questions. Which is great.
4. Iron supplements are great when you're going to be in the woods without any toilets all day.
The downsides: I forgot to pack 'safe' bugspray so I am covered in bugbites (there is no west vile or anything particularly dangerous here so I think it's worth the suffering, although I'm not sure how I'll feel in the morning).
Sorry this post is completely disorganized. Maybe I'll feel energetic in the morning and reorganize it. Or maybe JD will decide he really does want to head out at 7 am so we can start our hike before it gets hot ...
Still no clear movement. I keep reading that early kicks can feel like 'indigestion' but I think this means a clear pain, etc. not just a stomachache, of which I've had plenty. At least I hope my daughter doesn't feel like a stomachache ...
JD this morning added to his fine repertoire of comments 'admiring my new figure' as he would put it. As I was getting dressed he looks up, smiles and says "Wow, you've got an underbelly."
I forgot to post my best good news last week because it arrived so very late ... as I was going through security at Logan airport, just as expected (and 4 days and 5 minutes after the test was completed) . I passed my first GTT! I passed with flying colors, to be precise: 109. That's better than a normal test for me. Of course, we'll repeat the one-hour test in a month and probably throw in the 3-hour test for good measure, but for now I'm eating ice cream at least twice a week.
And now, a few random thoughts I had while trudging up a very steep mountain today. Despite the slowness, there are some definite benefits to hiking while pregnant:
1. Even if all I'm doing is walking from the car to the restrooms, I get serious looks of admiration. And since I'm not usually leading the pack in sportiness, I appreciate it.
2. JD and I almost always bring a single hiking backpack and swap it back and forth. No more. He has been carrying everything (including more water than normal, probably a pound of snacks, spare clothes for me, plus the usual large camera and tripod, etc.) When I am feeling energetic I carry my point and shot camera. When not, I make him carry it.
3. I can turn around at any point just by saying I don't feel great. No questions. Which is great.
4. Iron supplements are great when you're going to be in the woods without any toilets all day.
The downsides: I forgot to pack 'safe' bugspray so I am covered in bugbites (there is no west vile or anything particularly dangerous here so I think it's worth the suffering, although I'm not sure how I'll feel in the morning).
Sorry this post is completely disorganized. Maybe I'll feel energetic in the morning and reorganize it. Or maybe JD will decide he really does want to head out at 7 am so we can start our hike before it gets hot ...
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