Week 20 - She's Shy Like Mommy and Daddy

Little One is a girl!! My ultrasound this morning was only marginally better than the last one. It still took longer than expected, and the tech still didn't get every shot that she was hoping for because Little One decided to lay face down  instead of being in a position where we could see everything. In the end, we got the few that were really important to me: a perfectly beating little heart, tiny hands, and the top priority between-the-legs. We were also able to see the feet again, the thigh bone, lips and the nose, and one ear. It looks like she won't have the lovely Nemeth ears that stick out a bit which seem to show up on boys in the family more than on girls. Which is kind of duh, since she's a girl. We're incredibly happy, and our parents are thrilled. We would have been happy either way, but it's so much more fun to shop for girl clothes. We picked up tiny socks with a pink lace ruffle and a book to start reading to her, I Love You This Much. Andy and I were looking at it in a children's store, and I started to tear up because it was so sweet.

I got my flu shot the other day, which is good since it is that season, but I really screwed up the timing since I forgot about the flu-like ickiness you get a few days afterwards. Fast forward 72 hours and I've got aches and chills and a mild fever. Then I threw up this morning and I've been nauseous almost all day. Hard to say if it's the shot or morning sickness, but either way it still makes life tough. I'm just hoping that I feel well enough to enjoy Thanksgiving dinner tomorrow. I already had to give up on making homemade rolls or pie crust, and I'm not sure what else to cut at this point. Luckily, Andy is a fantastic sous chef with better knife skills, so he can at least chop onions and celery for the stuffing, take care of the potatoes completely, and prep all the veggies for roasting. Then I just have to get the turkey in the oven and cook the stuffing. Cranberry sauce is from a can (gasp! but it's what I always do when it's just me eating cranberries), and gravy I can practically do in my sleep. Our green salad is just baby greens with goat cheese and a dressing made from bottled champagne dressing mixed with cranberry juice. Spiffy! We might try an alcohol-free wine that a friend gave us back when we were first trying to get pregnant, but there will at least be sparkling cider. And then a pumpkin pie which should be amazing, given how frickin fantastic the batter tasted.

TMI Alert: You know what's also awful about getting the chills? It makes sore boobs hurt even more! They've gained at about two cup sizes and are only going to get bigger, but the process of growing to supply enough milk is just painful. Every time I take my bra off, it feels like I sunburned every inch of my breasts. I've only ever burned the top half of my boobs, not being brave enough to go topless, but yeah, that's what it feel like. My nipples are squished if I try to wear my pre-pregnancy bras, which basically means they point sideways at the end of the day and scream bloody murder. Actually, they're screaming "Get new bras already woman! It's only going to get worse!" but the effect is the same. And now that I've channeled Diana Gabaldon in Drums of Autumn ("Nipples again?!"), I'll move on to other topics.

Little One is supposed to be 10 ounces, but the tech said she weighs about 13 ounces. Not sure if that's good or bad. But given that one book used "small cantaloupe" as a reference, I'm not too worried. I'm pretty sure based on today's ultrasound that she is not spherical in shape. Her senses are developing a lot, and she can hear me now and recognize my voice. This also means she was able to hear the incredibly loud fire alarms that went off Monday morning, and promptly started kicking me to show me her displeasure at the noises. "Make it stop Mommy, it hurts my ears!" Me too, Little One. Me too.

Week 19 - The Rant Smorgasbord

Bear with me as I get into a touchy subject for many a pregnant woman, but particularly for me as a person who started out pregnancy clinically obese and comes from a family where almost everyone can be described that way.

One of the many glorious symptoms that marks the fifth month of pregnancy is an increased appetite. I guess this would be a minimal difference if I had gone from "food? okay, I'll have some at regular intervals so I can nourish my baby" to "hmm, I'm hungry again, I'll have a healthy snack and then eat a normal meal because my body and the baby need it" over a couple of weeks. Instead, I've gone from "I guess I'll eat so I don't get nauseous, but it better have milk or garlic in it, and don't bother with chocolate because I'm 'meh' about it" to full on "I know I ate an hour ago, but my stomach is gurgling and I'll just inhale everything available" kind of hunger.

I'm also really suggestible right now, so watching tv can be dangerous, especially Food Network. It would be really dangerous for me to just throw in the towel and eat anything and everything that appeals to me, because all it takes is a 3-second mention of some food for me to want it, which means I sometimes want foods that just aren't all that good for me (or are really bad for the baby, like Bailey's [note to self, bring mini-bottle of Bailey's to hospital to celebrate with after labor] or sushi).

Luckily, with a full and overboard return of my appetite comes a renewed emphasis on getting the best nutrition I can. I'm back up to the right number on my veggies, and taking time to consider where my shortages are. Last night, for example, I had a mug of warm milk as an evening snack to boost my calcium. Exciting! Occasionally I'm indulging in oh-so-tasty but less-than-nutritious stuff (okay, yesterday I indulged a bit too much because a co-worker brought in some fantastic cookies after I half-joked about her not bringing us goodies anymore), but overall I'm trying to be good.

I want so badly to come out of this gaining exactly the right amount of weight, yet I haven't gotten a scale for at home because I know it's a tough road to take, being constantly obssessed about how much everyone weighs and how you fit into the general pattern and judging everyone's worth by whether they've gained or lost weight lately. Case in point, none of my friends or co-workers have said anything about my weight (other than to encourage me to be careful because they had the hardest time losing weight after the pregnancies in which they gained the most), but a family member brought it up (not to my face, but with my mom and sister). It kind of hurt a bit that someone who I know loves me would make a snide remark, but I know what I need to do and I'm happy with how I'm doing overall. Whether I'll be so happy when I get checked at the doctor's office, we'll see, but I'm not going to torture myself in the meantime because other people are so unhappy with their own weight that they have to judge others to feel justified about their own struggles.

Ahem. Moving on. /rant.

The movements have slowed down a bit but it's still so early that I'm second guessing myself a bit. Plus, it's been just long enough since my last check-in at the midwife's office that I'm starting to get the "what if something is wrong?" jitters. I thought being stressed about when I was ovulating was hard, but this is really tough because it's not just me anymore. It's our baby, a tiny human-in-progress that I'm just beginning to bond with. (I'll take this moment to say that while I understand some people feel life starts the moment the sperm joins the egg, I know this fetus couldn't survive outside my body and still won't be able to for several more weeks. It drives me nuts that because some people think of pregnancy one way, they want to control a woman's body so she must act in a way that's acceptable by their morals. My body, my choice. Period. And that should extend to how I give birth. (See how I brought it back around to the usual subjects. Go me!) /rant again.)

Little One is now large mango sized, so I was wrong before. Whatever. It still was making me want to vomit after the simple act of, you know, EXISTING. or walking. or smelling Old Bay, which makes living in the mid-Atlantic a really crappy place to be pregnant. The all holy books don't have a whole lot to say right now about what Little One is up to, other than the fact that it's coated with vernix, that cheesy looking coating that does....stuff. Yum! Okay, actually it's to protect the sensitive skin from amniotic fluid, but apparently it might still be around by the time I give birth.

Wait, you mean babies don't come out clean and smelling like Johnson & Johnson's baby lotion? I might have to review this whole "where babies come from" thing. And then ask the stork for a refund. Stay tuned for next week. Little One will change from an "it" to he or she!

Week 18 - Flutters of Life

Tuesday morning, I woke up feeling really unsettled. I'd been feeling guilty about not getting any kind of nesting urge, or looking at baby clothes or furniture for the nursery. It was getting to the point of causing some anxiety about what kind of mother I would be, so that morning I just cried it out a bit while Andy held me, putting voice to a lot of my worries. Why am I not more attached to the baby? I wanted this for so long, and I still don't have any urge to look at clothes, does that mean I won't be happy when the baby is here? And why haven't I felt any movements yet? Am I just not paying enough attention? Does that mean I'm a bad mom too? Once I was finally calm again, we talked about what might be going on (we try to not jump to "it's the hormones" every time I get upset, so that if it is an issue that needs to be worked through, we do) and a couple good points came out.

One of the effects of waiting to think about names until we know whether Little One is a boy or a girl is that it hasn't felt like a person. It's hard to bond with something that you only refer to as Little One, "the baby", or it. It's even harder to bond when the only evidence of Little One's presence has been a growing belly and continued morning sickness. So we decided to start talking about names anyway and it quickly became apparent that there aren't a ton of boy's names that A. aren't already given to other family members, B. aren't so overly chic as to be the Jennifer of the 2000's (I'm looking at you, Aiden), or C. don't have some kind of negative connotation because of people we know with the name. We decided to give it some thought and come back to it later, but even that much made me feel immensely better.

So after all my bitching about not feeling anything yet, imagine my surprise later that afternoon to be standing in line at Costco and realize that my stomach has this kind of funny feeling. Not in a bad way, just enough to make me pause and think "What's going on now? I better not be about to get nauseous again. I'm not hungry, I just had a snack 30 minute ago. I'm not nervous, it's Costco for crying out loud. Nothing I ate would make me gassy, so why would it feel like there's bubbles in my...OHHHHHHHH." Then I got this huge smile. I kept feeling little butterfly flutters for the rest of the day and into the next morning, and then things quieted down a bit. Little One seems most active when I'm walking around fast, and after Frisky time, which is actually pretty common for babies. Wouldn't you feel good after getting an endorphin rush and going on a roller coaster?

I'm feeling pretty good myself. I've been outgrowing my everyday shirts pretty steadily, but I still have a few left. I tried to order stuff online, and apparently I'm between sizes because they tell you to to order your pre-pregnancy size, but I was swimming in half the stuff. Unfortunately, I will not be swiming, since the only plus size swimsuit at Motherhood Maternity is no longer available, and I can't find anything from other retailers. I guess it's on to walking and the Wii. I'll probably enjoy walking more now that I know I'll be able to feel the baby a lot afterwards. Perhaps it will even be incentive enough to do it every day.

Little One is about 5.5 ounces now, which is charmingly described in What to Expect When You're Expecting as a cuter version of the chicken breasts I eat for dinner. Seriously? That's all they could come up with? I guess I won't be eating chicken for dinner. Something that is cute: Little One has fingerprints, even though the finger and toe pads are tiny, I'm guessing maybe the size of a grain of rice. Little One is also starting to yawn and hiccup. I have no idea what that will feel like, but at some point, I'll feel that just as well as the little kicks and rolls.

Week 17 - Great News!

More news from the most recent doctor's visit, which I wrote about a bit last week. When Andy and I went in for my 12 week appointment, we were told that I was being tested early for Gestational Diabetes because both my weight and my PCOS history put me at elevated risk, and I should schedule my next appointment so I could stick around for one hour. So last week we had the 16 week appointment, and I got to drink the Fruit Punch glucose stuff (infinitely better than the Orange-flavored crap I've had to take before), meet with the midwife, and sit around until my hour was up. I finally called to get my results since I hadn't heard from them, and I got an all clear. So I don't have to take the 3-hour test, and I don't have to retest until the third trimester. Awesomeness. Good thing they didn't want to test me this week. I've had so much leftover candy because of my co-workers bringing it in that my blood sugar is probably more than a tad off right now.

Another result of the visit is that we're waiting a bit longer than we expected to find out if Little One is a boy or a girl. Until right before Thanksgiving. And if I'm feeling really, really mean, I'll wait until the last appointment of the day, just to drive my mom nuts. Granted, this might not be in my best interest because she will ask every time we talk if I can move up the appointment/find out sooner/buy a sonogram machine so she can fly out and do it herself/etc/etc. (Hi Mom! Thanks for following me. Sorry if I said anything that pissed you off...)  Looking over the order from the doc, I realized that I'll be getting a 3-D ultrasound along with everything else. I once heard someone describe the images as looking like dead aliens...and I kinda agree. Maybe I'll feel diferently when I'm seeing my own child, but fer cryin out loud, the faces look so distorted! Creepy, I tell you.

So I'm almost at the end of my fourth month. Kinda freaky really. Also sad is the realization that I haven't had much wine for the last 6 months. I went to a great wine tasting in May, and some wine tasting in June for my birthday, but that's been it. I had no idea I would miss it so much. Sparkling cider has been nice, but I remember it feeling it much more special when I was a kid. My mom doesn't drink, so we never had wine for holiday meals or champagne at New Year's Eve, always sparkling cider. But I'd gotten used to the joy of picking out just the right wine to match a carefully planned meal, or trying to find the perfect balance of dry and sweetness for toasting at midnight. (Cava is the way to go, in case you're interested). I think my alternative will be to try making mocktails, like cider and pomegranate juice, or eggnog and...eggnog, because the only stuff I like to add to eggnog is Kahlua or Bailey's. Andy does brandy, but that doesn't really do anything for me. I wonder if I can count eggnog as a source of calcium? Probably not, unless it was part of a steamed milk. Mmmmm, steamed milk with peppermint syrup, that's yummy too. I must be hungry, because this all sounds really yummy. Thank heaven for Christmas drinks at Starbucks.

Little One is about the size of my hand. Apparently the pregnancy books can only come up with fruits for the first trimester. Still a mango? I can't even think of fruits near that size. Maybe a zucchini? I know, not a fruit, but it's about right for 5 inches and 5 ounces. Oh the places I can go with that bad line. And I'm still not sure if I'm feeling anything that I can be sure of as movements. But apparently, if there's a sudden noise, Little One might jump. And Little One is figuring out to suck his or her thumb. How precious is that?