I woke up to a growling stomach Friday early morning at 4am. I closed my eyes and tried to ignore my hunger, but no-can-do. I was awake and starving.
Only 6 hours earlier I had eaten some soft-serve ice cream with M&Ms on top, and 3 hours before that I had eaten pizza for dinner. Pizza + ice cream = hunger so bad that I had to get out of bed at 4am and find something to eat? Unbelievable.
Dave and I were in a hotel room in Fredonia, NY, and there was a package of granola bars in my bag, so I quietly got out of bed and proceeded to eat the noisiest granola bar ever created. Dave woke up, thinking I was nauseous, but instead found me standing at the foot of the bed, shoving a granola bar into my mouth.
3 hours later I was awake again, and starving. I felt like a machine. I am a machine - a baby-growing machine. I couldn't understand all this hunger. And then Sunday morning I woke up, looked in the mirror, and... oh my. Look who finally looks pregnant! Ah-hah!! Hunger every hour = Quickly Growing Baby. Now it makes sense.
Monday, October 29
Thursday, October 25
Welcome to My Eating Trimester
I left class this morning and headed straight for the vending machine, where I bought a bag of potato chips. Then I headed for the clinic office to begin my workday. The potato chips were for later, I swear. But then I decided to eat the whole bag while I checked my email. It was not yet 10am, and I was eating potato chips. Normally, I would find that a little disgusting. Now, I'd like another bag.
The first email I received was from my friend Liz, who is celebrating Thanksgiving with us this year. She ended her email with, "Less than a month 'til Thanksgiving, yey!!! So exciting! Especially since you're in your eating trimester."
Liz nailed it on the head... a great description for what my world really revolves around right now: The Eating Trimester. And I am rather fortunate that my eating trimester coincides with Halloween candy corn and Thanksgiving pumpkin pie and Hanukkah fried donuts (I can't spell the name Dave calls them) and Christmas peanut butter cookies and Birthday cake! We couldn't have planned this better! Pass the potato chips, please!
Tuesday, October 23
65 pounds vs. 2 pounds - the weight debate
So it's not a "real" blog unless you have some kind of celebrity item, right? Time magazine reported this week that supermodel/horror-movie actress Milla Jovovich, at left, gained 65 pounds in the first 4 months of her pregnancy. 65 pounds! If I was to follow her lead... I'd need to eat about 10,000 calories a meal. Maybe I should start heading for the fried chicken stand?
Weight and pregnancy is a tough issue. Each generation receives different information about how much weight is best. Grandma Joan wore pre-maternity clothing out of the hospital with Neil (she barely gained anything); Mom gained 40 pounds with me. My endocrinologist told me she gained no weight in the first trimester, then 50 pounds in the next two. Every body is different, and prenatal advice changes over time. Current standards: moderation, whatever that means.
We received a chart from the ob/gyn that showed how much weight is ideal to gain over the course of the pregnancy, and again, it's an ideal. And we don't own a scale at our house, so my knowledge of how much weight I'm gaining relies on monthly doctor visits and whether I'm rounding out my jeans because my stomach/intestines/internal organs have been shoved up to make room for the baby or I'm actually gaining any weight. At our last check-up, I'd gained two pounds in 3 months, which doesn't mean much. However, for the baby's development and my own energy-level, I do need to start gaining some weight. Last night I ate a HUGE bowl of Breyer's Vanilla Ice Cream, and I felt (1) relief that I'm not constantly ill anymore, and (2) smug that Ice Cream is full of calcium and fat.
Supermodels probably need to gain 65 pounds for the health of the fetus. I probably don't. But I'd like to pack on a little weight soon... if for no other reason, then I'll begin to show a little more. Right now I just feel like an imposter.
Sunday, October 21
You Smell Like Belly Button Lint
Friday, Dave smelled weird. He kept coming over to hug me or kiss me or wash the dishes with me, and I kept moving out of the way. Finally, hours into the weird smell, I started sniffing him to figure out where the smell was coming from... not his breath, not his feet, not his armpits. But his neck. Yech.
We were lying on the living room floor together, discussing dinner (because although we do own furniture, we don't sit on it), and I told him he smelled horrible. Whenever he came too close, I felt like vomiting.
"What do I smell like?" he asked.
I thought about it for 1 second.
"Belly button lint."
And then we laughed and laughed and Dave stood up, walked straight to the bathroom, and took a shower. The smell disappeared.
We don't know what the smell actually was or where it came from, but something was on his neck that Pregnant Sarah really disliked. The more I think about it, my best guess is that it was sweat stuck to three-day old beard growth, which I never seemed to mind before. After all, Dave and I lived in a car/tent for 2 1/2 months one summer, traveling around in 98 degree weather to spectacular locations like Scottsbluff, Nebraska (that campsite was next to a zoo - have you ever woken up to the sound of an elephant? and the smell of the animals was top notch). So we're used to each other in our stinkiest form...
But now things are a little different, and my nose is fastidious. I walk through the produce section of the grocery store with my shirt fashionably pulled up over my nose, and I have to run through the seafood section. My sense of smell is not just acute, it's faulty. One morning early on in the pregnancy, Dave was eating Grapenuts cereal for breakfast, and I walked into the dining room and announced, "I smell Cheeze-Its." We haven't had a box of Cheeze-Its in this house... ever?
I apologized to Dave for thinking he smelled like Belly Button Lint. He doesn't smell like Belly Button Lint, I promise. And he showers every day.
We were lying on the living room floor together, discussing dinner (because although we do own furniture, we don't sit on it), and I told him he smelled horrible. Whenever he came too close, I felt like vomiting.
"What do I smell like?" he asked.
I thought about it for 1 second.
"Belly button lint."
And then we laughed and laughed and Dave stood up, walked straight to the bathroom, and took a shower. The smell disappeared.
We don't know what the smell actually was or where it came from, but something was on his neck that Pregnant Sarah really disliked. The more I think about it, my best guess is that it was sweat stuck to three-day old beard growth, which I never seemed to mind before. After all, Dave and I lived in a car/tent for 2 1/2 months one summer, traveling around in 98 degree weather to spectacular locations like Scottsbluff, Nebraska (that campsite was next to a zoo - have you ever woken up to the sound of an elephant? and the smell of the animals was top notch). So we're used to each other in our stinkiest form...
But now things are a little different, and my nose is fastidious. I walk through the produce section of the grocery store with my shirt fashionably pulled up over my nose, and I have to run through the seafood section. My sense of smell is not just acute, it's faulty. One morning early on in the pregnancy, Dave was eating Grapenuts cereal for breakfast, and I walked into the dining room and announced, "I smell Cheeze-Its." We haven't had a box of Cheeze-Its in this house... ever?
I apologized to Dave for thinking he smelled like Belly Button Lint. He doesn't smell like Belly Button Lint, I promise. And he showers every day.
Friday, October 19
My First Puke
My Family Law clinic partner, Joleen, and I travel around Syracuse fighting crime. Not really, but we do spend an awful lot of time together talking about people's problems and how to fix them. So yesterday, we were driving around Northern Syracuse near the airport, completely lost and late for a meeting at a client's house. We pulled into a strip mall to reread our directions and call the client for information. And I don't know if it was the heat (mid-70s and humid) or my long-sleeved shirt or the fact that I had just drank a blueberrry smoothie and it was reacting with some antibiotics I am currently choking down, but I had to puke.
So I said to Joleen, "This is really gross, but I have to go inside that bakery and throw-up now," and I jumped out of her car, raced in, and finally, for the first time in 13 weeks, threw up. Yech. I hate throwing up, and so far I've been able to prevent throwing up in a kind of mind-over-matter fight with myself - one morning I really had to, but the thought of throwing up the blueberry pancakes that I had begged Dave to make went against my constitution, so I just decided, as I sat there next to the toilet, Purna beside me on the bathroom floor watching intently, that I didn't want to throw up. So I didn't. And that's how it's gone for the past 13 weeks. Until yesterday.
I was a little embarrassed about throwing up in the bakery restroom, and that Joleen knew what I was doing, and the counter people could hear my retching. And I felt like I should probably buy something now after misusing their facilities. So I opened the door, prepared to order a Pepsi to settle my stomach, and there was Joleen at the counter, ordering an egg sandwich, as though pregnant women jumping from her car and puking in bakery bathrooms was a perfectly normal occurrence. So we sat inside for a couple minutes, I felt better, and we got back on the road. And when we arrived at the client's home, I felt so thankful that I had gotten all the grossness out of me, because really, the last thing I wanted to do was puke in this client's house.
So I said to Joleen, "This is really gross, but I have to go inside that bakery and throw-up now," and I jumped out of her car, raced in, and finally, for the first time in 13 weeks, threw up. Yech. I hate throwing up, and so far I've been able to prevent throwing up in a kind of mind-over-matter fight with myself - one morning I really had to, but the thought of throwing up the blueberry pancakes that I had begged Dave to make went against my constitution, so I just decided, as I sat there next to the toilet, Purna beside me on the bathroom floor watching intently, that I didn't want to throw up. So I didn't. And that's how it's gone for the past 13 weeks. Until yesterday.
I was a little embarrassed about throwing up in the bakery restroom, and that Joleen knew what I was doing, and the counter people could hear my retching. And I felt like I should probably buy something now after misusing their facilities. So I opened the door, prepared to order a Pepsi to settle my stomach, and there was Joleen at the counter, ordering an egg sandwich, as though pregnant women jumping from her car and puking in bakery bathrooms was a perfectly normal occurrence. So we sat inside for a couple minutes, I felt better, and we got back on the road. And when we arrived at the client's home, I felt so thankful that I had gotten all the grossness out of me, because really, the last thing I wanted to do was puke in this client's house.
Sarah and the Pillow
And here we have a picture of me + 3 months, according to the Pillow (see October 7th entry Confronting the Pillow, for more info - click on title to the left). Holy shmoley!
Where's Dave?
Here's Dave, looking at the Baby Name Book. I'm posting this photo because some lady in the peanut gallery (comments section), going by the moniker "Not Really That Anonymous," (Hi Mom!) demanded a photo of Dave be posted. So here he is. Welcome to the Blog, Dave!
Wednesday, October 17
Being Outed in Class
This morning I walked into class, and my classmate Jona said in a sing-song voice, "Look who's getting bigger!" Trouble was, approximately half of the people in the room didn't know I was pregnant, and Jona received the nastiest looks from my colleagues. There was some uncomfortable laughter and silence, and then Karista asked, "Sarah, are you pregnant?"
Once everyone realized what was going on, we laughed and laughed at the supposed rudeness of Jona's comment. And it was nice to be outed, because I wasn't really sure how to go about telling people before it becomes really obvious. Only trouble is that neither of my professors were present, so I still have to tell them, seeing as how they will remain my profs next semester as well.
Once everyone realized what was going on, we laughed and laughed at the supposed rudeness of Jona's comment. And it was nice to be outed, because I wasn't really sure how to go about telling people before it becomes really obvious. Only trouble is that neither of my professors were present, so I still have to tell them, seeing as how they will remain my profs next semester as well.
Tuesday, October 16
Welcoming the Second Trimester
I have welcomed the Second Trimester a couple of different ways.
1. I look very cute in maternity clothing. This bodes well for the next six months.
2. I am less tired - hooray! But I still want 9 hours of sleep every night.
3. Today I walked through the Marshall's baby aisle and looked at shoes and clothes and baby furniture. It was scary - everything is either baby pink or baby blue. Apparently we will scare little children by dressing them in real colors. But then I got stuck looking at baby books, and my heart about melted.
4. I gained two whole pounds during the first 12 weeks. It's time to start eating - which I welcome, because I am finally feeling hungry. I celebrated my returning appetite with my favorite treat: french fries and chocolate milkshakes.
5. Our cat Purna, who many of you know is not fond of sitting on human laps, has taken to mine recently like she's making up for lost time. My theory is that suddenly she knows how good she's got it, and how much her life will be different in 6 months. Plus she'll have a plethora of baby toys to keep her busy. But I think she might be too advanced for the newborn toys - so if/when we have a baby shower, please, someone remember poor Purna and buy her an Erector set or some blocks.
6. I cried on Sunday because Dave was sitting too far away in the house. This is a good sign, right? So I've been told, but thinking about it now, I can only shake my head in wonderment.
1. I look very cute in maternity clothing. This bodes well for the next six months.
2. I am less tired - hooray! But I still want 9 hours of sleep every night.
3. Today I walked through the Marshall's baby aisle and looked at shoes and clothes and baby furniture. It was scary - everything is either baby pink or baby blue. Apparently we will scare little children by dressing them in real colors. But then I got stuck looking at baby books, and my heart about melted.
4. I gained two whole pounds during the first 12 weeks. It's time to start eating - which I welcome, because I am finally feeling hungry. I celebrated my returning appetite with my favorite treat: french fries and chocolate milkshakes.
5. Our cat Purna, who many of you know is not fond of sitting on human laps, has taken to mine recently like she's making up for lost time. My theory is that suddenly she knows how good she's got it, and how much her life will be different in 6 months. Plus she'll have a plethora of baby toys to keep her busy. But I think she might be too advanced for the newborn toys - so if/when we have a baby shower, please, someone remember poor Purna and buy her an Erector set or some blocks.
6. I cried on Sunday because Dave was sitting too far away in the house. This is a good sign, right? So I've been told, but thinking about it now, I can only shake my head in wonderment.
Friday, October 12
A Wave from Inside
Today Dave and I had our second sonogram. The first sonogram occurred at 7 weeks, and we saw a little peanut the size of a grain of rice with a steady heartbeat of 152 bpm.
So today I wasn't sure what to expect- and WOW did we see a lot. A little, mostly-formed growing being, with a discernible nose, upper and lower mandible, lips, ears... the works. Dave couldn't close his mouth - he was dumbfounded. Heartbeat 164 bpm. (No sex, yet. So don't ask)
The purpose of the sonogram was to measure the length of the body, the width of the spinal column, the bridge of the nose... to count all limbs (two of each, whew) and identify the stomach and bladder. The baby's head takes up most of its size right now, and it has no shoulders but a large paunchy belly (like me!). And the heart, which we could see beating on the screen, was HUGE in comparison to the stomach. Then we looked at the top of the baby's head and could actually see the two chambers of the brain, which the tech also measured.
And here was the best part-the technician (who has the coolest job ever - I'm jealous) couldn't get a good measurement for a while because the baby REFUSED to stop moving. It was like a bucking bronco, really. It was flipping from its back to its side, and she kept talking to it, saying, "Ok, now, just one second so I can snap a picture!" and then it would roll around. She said that some babies just lie there and don't do much, but ours was incredibly active. And then the best best part happened...
The baby started fluttering its arms, waving at us (or waving us away? "Get out of my house!" I think it said)! And we counted five little fingers. And then the tech decided to take other measurements (length of the fetus - 6cm - size of a lime) and we could see the little feet and legs, and they were swimming! Dog-paddling, actually. Then she returned to the top of the body, and we saw the baby put its hand to its forehead, like, "Please, people, leave me alone," and then the other arm started moving. Dave and I drove to the appointment this morning listening to a CD we just made for Dina (congrats on passing the FL bar!) and I am positive it was the upbeat music that woke the baby up for our appointment.
We have pictures of all this, but the process of watching it together on the monitor is 100 times cooler than the fuzzy pictures wherein we have to explain in detail what the viewer is actually looking at.
The baby's bones haven't calcified yet, so when it moves around, I can't feel anything, but soon, soon, soon! And then I will wish it slept more and stopped doing flips, I'm sure. Right now, though, it is AMAZING to think that although I can't feel anything, there's a lot of activity going on.
The one part that made me really sad is that there are still a lot of women in this country who don't get adequate (or any) prenatal care, and I think they miss out on some amazing bonding with their fetus as well as health care. It's one thing to feel sick and tired and emotional; it's another to have the opportunity to eyeball the responsible party and realize, "Hey! I'm growing a PERSON!" Especially since today's sonogram enforced the idea that this little person is a separate entity, all by itself, and although it depends on my body for a lot, it is growing and developing all on its own in a small little cavity (uterus). It's not an extension of me - it's going to be a self-supporting person in 6 short months! And that in itself is why the sonogram is so important - and scary. Dave said to me soon after we left the office, "It's amazing to see the baby as its own person. It's a whole 'nother person we'll have to take care of!" Suddenly we realized - what in the world have we gotten ourselves into???
So today I wasn't sure what to expect- and WOW did we see a lot. A little, mostly-formed growing being, with a discernible nose, upper and lower mandible, lips, ears... the works. Dave couldn't close his mouth - he was dumbfounded. Heartbeat 164 bpm. (No sex, yet. So don't ask)
The purpose of the sonogram was to measure the length of the body, the width of the spinal column, the bridge of the nose... to count all limbs (two of each, whew) and identify the stomach and bladder. The baby's head takes up most of its size right now, and it has no shoulders but a large paunchy belly (like me!). And the heart, which we could see beating on the screen, was HUGE in comparison to the stomach. Then we looked at the top of the baby's head and could actually see the two chambers of the brain, which the tech also measured.
And here was the best part-the technician (who has the coolest job ever - I'm jealous) couldn't get a good measurement for a while because the baby REFUSED to stop moving. It was like a bucking bronco, really. It was flipping from its back to its side, and she kept talking to it, saying, "Ok, now, just one second so I can snap a picture!" and then it would roll around. She said that some babies just lie there and don't do much, but ours was incredibly active. And then the best best part happened...
The baby started fluttering its arms, waving at us (or waving us away? "Get out of my house!" I think it said)! And we counted five little fingers. And then the tech decided to take other measurements (length of the fetus - 6cm - size of a lime) and we could see the little feet and legs, and they were swimming! Dog-paddling, actually. Then she returned to the top of the body, and we saw the baby put its hand to its forehead, like, "Please, people, leave me alone," and then the other arm started moving. Dave and I drove to the appointment this morning listening to a CD we just made for Dina (congrats on passing the FL bar!) and I am positive it was the upbeat music that woke the baby up for our appointment.
We have pictures of all this, but the process of watching it together on the monitor is 100 times cooler than the fuzzy pictures wherein we have to explain in detail what the viewer is actually looking at.
The baby's bones haven't calcified yet, so when it moves around, I can't feel anything, but soon, soon, soon! And then I will wish it slept more and stopped doing flips, I'm sure. Right now, though, it is AMAZING to think that although I can't feel anything, there's a lot of activity going on.
The one part that made me really sad is that there are still a lot of women in this country who don't get adequate (or any) prenatal care, and I think they miss out on some amazing bonding with their fetus as well as health care. It's one thing to feel sick and tired and emotional; it's another to have the opportunity to eyeball the responsible party and realize, "Hey! I'm growing a PERSON!" Especially since today's sonogram enforced the idea that this little person is a separate entity, all by itself, and although it depends on my body for a lot, it is growing and developing all on its own in a small little cavity (uterus). It's not an extension of me - it's going to be a self-supporting person in 6 short months! And that in itself is why the sonogram is so important - and scary. Dave said to me soon after we left the office, "It's amazing to see the baby as its own person. It's a whole 'nother person we'll have to take care of!" Suddenly we realized - what in the world have we gotten ourselves into???
Wednesday, October 10
Ok, ok, we'll give you a picture
Here it is - the first pregnancy photo I'll share with y'all. But geez, it's hard not to scrutinize as I look at it - why is my belly shaped so funny? It's bumpy! I don't know why. Maybe the Belly Band? And my pants are unbuttoned. That could be it. Or I just have a funny-looking shape.
Photo taken: October 10, 2007; 11 1/2 weeks pregnant.
Tuesday, October 9
Rejected Baby Names
Dave and I have begun the conversation... what shall we name this little person growing inside? We're going to start a list, buy a baby name book, etc. and then we're going to keep it secret from all of you. But we wanted to share something about the process of naming, so we give you...
The REJECTED BABY NAMES LIST: (check back periodically; we'll update!)
1. Elvis
2. Jesus
3. Elvis-Jesus
4. Names that end in S (Bacchus, Elias, Silus)
5. Sarah's first cousins' names (Aaron has already been taken TWICE)
6. Names that have belonged to our pets (Bjorg, Alpha, Phooey, Chomper, Ellis, Dudley, Tootsie, Fred, Checkers, Muffin, Arlo, Purna, Baby Jane, Mr. Baggins, Felix, Precious, and especially not Bob Kitty or Little Kitty). This is too bad because any kid named Bjorg Reckess would be an awesome tennis player.
7. The place name where the baby was conceived, ala a colleague of Neil's who named her child Bozeman and then proceeded to explain how she and her husband decided on such a unique name in their baby announcements.
8. Names that rhyme or half-rhyme w/ Reckess... like? Alexis. Texas. Nexus.
9. Names that Frank Zappa has already taken: Diva Muffin, Moonunit, Dweezil.
The REJECTED BABY NAMES LIST: (check back periodically; we'll update!)
1. Elvis
2. Jesus
3. Elvis-Jesus
4. Names that end in S (Bacchus, Elias, Silus)
5. Sarah's first cousins' names (Aaron has already been taken TWICE)
6. Names that have belonged to our pets (Bjorg, Alpha, Phooey, Chomper, Ellis, Dudley, Tootsie, Fred, Checkers, Muffin, Arlo, Purna, Baby Jane, Mr. Baggins, Felix, Precious, and especially not Bob Kitty or Little Kitty). This is too bad because any kid named Bjorg Reckess would be an awesome tennis player.
7. The place name where the baby was conceived, ala a colleague of Neil's who named her child Bozeman and then proceeded to explain how she and her husband decided on such a unique name in their baby announcements.
8. Names that rhyme or half-rhyme w/ Reckess... like? Alexis. Texas. Nexus.
9. Names that Frank Zappa has already taken: Diva Muffin, Moonunit, Dweezil.
Sunday, October 7
Confronting the Pillow
I still fit in my regular clothes, kind of. Everything is snug, and some stuff hasn't fit in awhile (like my jeans). But the existence of Belly Bands, nylon swaths of fabric that go over your unbuttoned, unzipped pants and keep everything from falling down, has let me wear my jeans for weeks now without anyone knowing any different. Soon enough, though, belly bands aren't going to cut it. So I went to the Motherhood Maternity outlet in Waterloo, NY, to find some new clothes, and there I discovered... the Pillow.
The Pillow is found in all of the dressing rooms, and you hold it to your stomach and then pull a velcro strap around your back and velcro it into place. And ta-da! You have just added two to three months to your torso. This is a great idea, because it's difficult to try on clothing you will be growing into without knowing how big you're going to be. And based on the Pillow - I am going to be absolutely massive.
At first I was strapping the Pillow on too low, and nothing fit correctly. Then with a little assistance from a store clerk, I correctly positioned the pillow and suddenly my try-ons all looked like... maternity clothes. And... I looked REALLY pregnant. Whoa.
I asked the sales clerk whether the reported Pillow-size of two to three months REALLY meant two to three months, and she said yes, I should count on being that size by New Year's. "And then I'll grow bigger?" I asked. She laughed and said, "Of course. When is your due date?" I told her, April 25. And she laughed again and said, "You might be making a second trip out here in January."
Or instead, I might just take to wearing my bathrobe everywhere. Except my bathrobe isn't even going to fit, much less my winter coat. The pregnancy manuals suggest wearing your male partner's button-down shirts, but I think by the end of this month I'll already be bigger around than Dave. What a conundrum!
So I bought two pairs of pants with the stretchy stomach inserts that grow with you, and a couple of shirts that are stretchy as well, and I decided to hope for the best, the best being that these clothes will last longer than two to three months. Because you never know... maybe the Pillow is wrong.
The Pillow is found in all of the dressing rooms, and you hold it to your stomach and then pull a velcro strap around your back and velcro it into place. And ta-da! You have just added two to three months to your torso. This is a great idea, because it's difficult to try on clothing you will be growing into without knowing how big you're going to be. And based on the Pillow - I am going to be absolutely massive.
At first I was strapping the Pillow on too low, and nothing fit correctly. Then with a little assistance from a store clerk, I correctly positioned the pillow and suddenly my try-ons all looked like... maternity clothes. And... I looked REALLY pregnant. Whoa.
I asked the sales clerk whether the reported Pillow-size of two to three months REALLY meant two to three months, and she said yes, I should count on being that size by New Year's. "And then I'll grow bigger?" I asked. She laughed and said, "Of course. When is your due date?" I told her, April 25. And she laughed again and said, "You might be making a second trip out here in January."
Or instead, I might just take to wearing my bathrobe everywhere. Except my bathrobe isn't even going to fit, much less my winter coat. The pregnancy manuals suggest wearing your male partner's button-down shirts, but I think by the end of this month I'll already be bigger around than Dave. What a conundrum!
So I bought two pairs of pants with the stretchy stomach inserts that grow with you, and a couple of shirts that are stretchy as well, and I decided to hope for the best, the best being that these clothes will last longer than two to three months. Because you never know... maybe the Pillow is wrong.
Saturday, October 6
Pregnant Belly as Art?
Yesterday a package arrived for us in the mail which we were not expecting. We opened it to find: a Pregnant Belly Cast Kit. This is a do-it-yourself plaster kit that is described as "Proud Body Pregnancy Art." The idea is pretty simple: like a paper mache mask, this kit helps you cast your pregnant belly forevermore.
We thought this was an especially innovative, funny gift because it came from our friend Sue Smith, who many of you know was an instrumental person in getting Dave and Sarah to become "Dave and Sarah." Without her permission, I am replicating part of her note:
"You are never going to believe me, but a few weeks ago, completely out of the blue I thought to myself, I bet Sarah is pregnant...Anyway, I saw a painted belly cast a while back- didn't think much of it until today. I figured what better homage to Sarah's ta-tas than to make a pregnant monument to them!"
I thought this was especially funny because I have been thinking about how to post an homage to my growing breasts on this blog, and instead of a blog post, now I'm getting to cast them in plaster! So that years from now, people can say, "There's no way they were ever THAT big," when they see our cast.
Dave has asked if HE gets to be the sculptor here and apply the cast, and I think it's only fair because he got us into this mess in the first place.
The kit comes with about 100 different ideas for decorating your pregnancy cast, and if you're interested, go to http://www.doulashop.com and click on "Pregnancy Essentials." They have a pretty extensive art gallery, with some very cool ideas.
If you have any specific suggestions for how and when we should use our cast, post them in the comments section. And think about sharing the pregnancy cast with other pregnant people you know who might really enjoy a gift like this. Thanks, Sue! You're the best!
Wednesday, October 3
I Popped! (but just a little bit)
Today I am wearing the pants that are supposed to fit for awhile, but there is a button digging into my tummy.
This morning I woke up, showered, and then woke Dave up by saying, "Look at my tummy. It popped." I wasn't dressed yet, so I didn't know how much I had grown, but I could tell. The belly was sticking out. Dave barely opened his eyes, but he did agree, maybe so I would let him sleep.
It's hard to gage if tummies really change that quickly, or if it's gradual, or if it's wishful thinking. I keep complaining, "But I don't LOOK any different." Although Dave's mom did comment that I am glowing like a tanned beach bum, of which there are generally none in Syracuse, NY. Somedays, especially last week when I had a court appearance and client meetings and was freaking out that my case was going to trial, I didn't think about being pregnant very often at all. But when I'm home, and cooking dinner or washing dishes or playing with the cats, I think about it a lot, and part of what I think about is: what if this isn't true? What if it's all a game? Even though I have photographic proof of a fetus, having a baby can seem really remote at times.
And then I popped, and all day I've been looking down at my tummy, which is not going back into my body any time soon, and I'm silently shouting, "Look at me! It's real! I'm pregnant! Woo-hoo!" Although I'm sure my law colleagues are simply thinking, "Someone needs to lay off the Cheetos."
This morning I woke up, showered, and then woke Dave up by saying, "Look at my tummy. It popped." I wasn't dressed yet, so I didn't know how much I had grown, but I could tell. The belly was sticking out. Dave barely opened his eyes, but he did agree, maybe so I would let him sleep.
It's hard to gage if tummies really change that quickly, or if it's gradual, or if it's wishful thinking. I keep complaining, "But I don't LOOK any different." Although Dave's mom did comment that I am glowing like a tanned beach bum, of which there are generally none in Syracuse, NY. Somedays, especially last week when I had a court appearance and client meetings and was freaking out that my case was going to trial, I didn't think about being pregnant very often at all. But when I'm home, and cooking dinner or washing dishes or playing with the cats, I think about it a lot, and part of what I think about is: what if this isn't true? What if it's all a game? Even though I have photographic proof of a fetus, having a baby can seem really remote at times.
And then I popped, and all day I've been looking down at my tummy, which is not going back into my body any time soon, and I'm silently shouting, "Look at me! It's real! I'm pregnant! Woo-hoo!" Although I'm sure my law colleagues are simply thinking, "Someone needs to lay off the Cheetos."
Tuesday, October 2
Dave has Pregnancy Radar
Don't try and hide it from Dave. If you're pregnant, he'll find out. Suddenly he is picking out women on the street, saying, "She looks about 4 months, don't you think?" He is hyper-sensitive to pregnant women. I guess sharing a bed with one cat, a pregnant lady and her large body pillow makes a man aware.
We found out that we were pregnant in Newfoundland, before I had even missed my period. I had known immediately that we conceived, but Dave and I both didn't say anything to each other, hoping not to jinx it by revealing our intuition. Then I started having these sharp abdominal pains, and then Dave said I smelled weird. Not bad, but different. He could tell. He knew I was pregnant.
Once we landed in Newfoundland, I was ill and feeling out of sorts, and Dave got to go grocery shopping in St. John's and bring back to our apartment Saltines and GingerAle. After a few more days of this, and continued abdominal pain, we broached the subject. Were we pregnant? We both thought so, but there was no proof. So Dave hiked back to the store and bought a pregnancy test. And even though it was too early to use it, I went ahead and peed on the stick - and there were two pink lines. Dave's pregnancy radar had officially begun to work.
But the best story is that after Dave's first day of graduate school, he came home and told me that his professor was in her early stages of pregnancy. She hadn't said this, but he claimed it was obvious. Not that obvious, though. Not obvious enough that everyone would look at her and say, "Pregnant lady." Obvious to Dave and no one else.
Then two weeks later, the professor lets it slip in class. Yes, she is pregnant, not much farther along than me. Her confession made Dave smug. He really does have pregnancy radar.
We found out that we were pregnant in Newfoundland, before I had even missed my period. I had known immediately that we conceived, but Dave and I both didn't say anything to each other, hoping not to jinx it by revealing our intuition. Then I started having these sharp abdominal pains, and then Dave said I smelled weird. Not bad, but different. He could tell. He knew I was pregnant.
Once we landed in Newfoundland, I was ill and feeling out of sorts, and Dave got to go grocery shopping in St. John's and bring back to our apartment Saltines and GingerAle. After a few more days of this, and continued abdominal pain, we broached the subject. Were we pregnant? We both thought so, but there was no proof. So Dave hiked back to the store and bought a pregnancy test. And even though it was too early to use it, I went ahead and peed on the stick - and there were two pink lines. Dave's pregnancy radar had officially begun to work.
But the best story is that after Dave's first day of graduate school, he came home and told me that his professor was in her early stages of pregnancy. She hadn't said this, but he claimed it was obvious. Not that obvious, though. Not obvious enough that everyone would look at her and say, "Pregnant lady." Obvious to Dave and no one else.
Then two weeks later, the professor lets it slip in class. Yes, she is pregnant, not much farther along than me. Her confession made Dave smug. He really does have pregnancy radar.
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