I have my first case of the swells tonight. I drove up to Chicago after work today to be here for Dan's mom's Graduation celebratory weekend. After a good bit of sitting in my office today, followed by the three hours of driving, I now have some swollen ankles. I've got the swells! I done been swoll!
I've always had small ankles, and to look down to see the huge (really, huge, no joke) logs was a bit startling.
So the recipe to help keep the swell to a minimum is more water and more movement. There will come a point where I won't be able to fend it off, but at 17.5 weeks, I feel like I still have some control.
Already I've had to retrain myself how to sit at work. I'm a leg crosser. It's hard for me to sit and not cross my legs. But all that crossing mixed with some hormone who's job it is to make my ligaments go loosey-goosey was the root of all of the back pain I had. So, no leg crossing means a better aligned spine which means no back pain.
Now, I need to up the water flow. I feel like I do nothing but pee at work (which isn't true - as I have been kicking these last weeks) but if it means no cankles, then I'll shove it down the hatch.
Other than that all is well!
Friday, May 27, 2011
Sunday, May 22, 2011
8 weeks
Dan left today to start his grueling study classes before he takes the Bar Exam on July 26th. He will be in Chicago for the next 8 weeks. I will go up and see him on some weekends, and then we'll fly to Josh's wedding, he come back and take the test, and then we wait. Who knows what will come first: the baby or his exam results.
I watched a movie this afternoon titled Pregnant in America. I wait until Dan is gone to do this sort of thing. As issues were being brought up, I was looking at websites to see what Illinois' policy was on 1) home birth 2) midwife & doula services 3) my doctor's cesarean statistics (no luck on that one...yet)
I searched out different types of classes in the area, when I "should" take them.
The movie took my emotions for a whirl with a healthy dose of personal stories from women who felt forced to deliver their baby in ways that went against their birth plan wishes. (I'm thinking...what's a birth plan?) Stories of doctors using drugs to induce labor that were specifically labeled to NOT use it on pregnant women, of scheduling surgeries to coincide with doctor's vacation days, of hospital staff not letting mothers hold their child in the NICU.
This probably wasn't the best movie to watch the first day of Dan being gone.
Wednesday, May 18, 2011
Freak out!
I'm guessing there are stages of pregnancy. I don't mean first, second, and third trimester. i mean, freak out, pretend calm, reality, real freak out, calm, discomfort, and real reality.
I've recently gone through reality and real freak out, all in the span of about four days.
Mom was here visiting for Miah and Jessie's graduation (woohoo! The Drs. are in the house!) and she wanted to spend some time with me. We went to a few different stores and had the opportunity to look at a lot of baby related products. A lot. It was an education. Holy cow, I have to decide how I'm going to parent, and that includes choosing between about 20 different types of dipers, feeding methods, to midwife or dula or doctor, to epidural or not to epidural, and the gear...do you know how many types of strollers there are? And bottles? I feel like I'm going to fail this test.
Did I mention various types of leaking? No one talks about the leaking and seeping...from various locations.
At this weekend's celebrations, I got to talk a bit with one of Jessie's friends who is in the process of weening. Her breasts were swollen and in pain, and she didn't want to pump to relieve the pressure, because not pumping is how your glands realize they don't have to make milk any longer. But it came to a point where she had to pump, and then there was open emotion as she poured her milk down the drain. All that good milk going to no one. Cue freak out.
I had never ventured mentally to the point where I would be weening. That detail wasn't a part of terrible twos, pre-school, elementary years, and beyond. No matter how much I read, how much I imagine, or how much I talk with people, I will never know everything that is going to be happening to me in the new process. This will not be all rainbows and glitter, mud pies and blanket forts.
I'm trying to make room in my brain for the late nights, early mornings, and inevitable disagreements between Dan and I. They will all come. We will get through it, but they can't be avoided. There are so many pit stops on this spectrum.
I've recently gone through reality and real freak out, all in the span of about four days.
Mom was here visiting for Miah and Jessie's graduation (woohoo! The Drs. are in the house!) and she wanted to spend some time with me. We went to a few different stores and had the opportunity to look at a lot of baby related products. A lot. It was an education. Holy cow, I have to decide how I'm going to parent, and that includes choosing between about 20 different types of dipers, feeding methods, to midwife or dula or doctor, to epidural or not to epidural, and the gear...do you know how many types of strollers there are? And bottles? I feel like I'm going to fail this test.
Did I mention various types of leaking? No one talks about the leaking and seeping...from various locations.
At this weekend's celebrations, I got to talk a bit with one of Jessie's friends who is in the process of weening. Her breasts were swollen and in pain, and she didn't want to pump to relieve the pressure, because not pumping is how your glands realize they don't have to make milk any longer. But it came to a point where she had to pump, and then there was open emotion as she poured her milk down the drain. All that good milk going to no one. Cue freak out.
I had never ventured mentally to the point where I would be weening. That detail wasn't a part of terrible twos, pre-school, elementary years, and beyond. No matter how much I read, how much I imagine, or how much I talk with people, I will never know everything that is going to be happening to me in the new process. This will not be all rainbows and glitter, mud pies and blanket forts.
I'm trying to make room in my brain for the late nights, early mornings, and inevitable disagreements between Dan and I. They will all come. We will get through it, but they can't be avoided. There are so many pit stops on this spectrum.
Saturday, May 7, 2011
Lifting
I didn't realize how much lifting I do in my job now that I'm "not allowed" to lift anything. After coming back from my second doctor's appointment with a due date, 5the folks at work think I am incapable of lifting more than a few sheets of paper. It's sweet, and nice (I guess), but mostly I'm getting frustrated with my new feeble status. I fully admit that the order of 25 boxes filled with dictionaries is a task that I cannot do on my own, but I do think I can carry five hard cover books from the front window to the best seller shelf. Sigh.
Now the plus side to this is I am not responsible for carrying up the two buckets of cat litter we buy each month. That's a task I am happy to let Dan take over. He has said for a while that I have a problem asking for help, and yesterday when I was organizing the Cat closet after he purchased the newest sand pile, he was almost giddy that I asked him to lift the buckets into their spot. Score one for teamwork.
The fun fact I read today about this week in my pregnancy: Boo is growing a furry coat to help keep him/her warm. There just isn't enough body fat on the little babe to do the job. Interesting.
Now the plus side to this is I am not responsible for carrying up the two buckets of cat litter we buy each month. That's a task I am happy to let Dan take over. He has said for a while that I have a problem asking for help, and yesterday when I was organizing the Cat closet after he purchased the newest sand pile, he was almost giddy that I asked him to lift the buckets into their spot. Score one for teamwork.
The fun fact I read today about this week in my pregnancy: Boo is growing a furry coat to help keep him/her warm. There just isn't enough body fat on the little babe to do the job. Interesting.
Monday, May 2, 2011
Appointment #2
Baby is growing. Everything is going along real well.
I had my second appointment today and got some great information: A due date! (or what I'm calling and estimate date of arrival or EDA) October 30th is when the magical doctor Nord predicts baby Swift will be here. He says today is the day he is marking me 14 weeks, and now I have a number to attach to all of these baby sites that will compare the babe (who I will refer to as "Boo," "Casper," or "Punkin" because of the relative closeness to that autumn holiday where ghosts and pumpkins are seen) to various sizes and types of fruits and vegetables.
This week: Lemon!
Monday, April 25, 2011
Weekend-o-sugar
I don't know what came over me this weekend but now Dan doesn't trust me to feed the baby. All I wanted all weekend was donuts and chocolate milk. Saturday morning I woke up at 3, tooled around doing the dishes and what not, and then it came - the need. I had to have a donut. It was almost 6am, so I made Dan a pot of coffee and went to Bagelman's. I got two bagels and six donuts.
I didn't know what sort of donut Dan might like, him not being much of a sweets guy, so I got 6 different ones that I would like, because worse case scenario, I would have to eat them all (awesome!). Honestly, with how I was feeling, I don't know how I got them home.
By 10am it was time for a nap, and I had only eaten two. Dan, it turns out, does like donuts, and helped a bit, but after out afternoon naps (yes, they come in multiples) the number of donuts had decreased again. Thankfully we went to Jessica's house for a BBQ, where I got some carrots, corn, and a hot dog in my system. Dan told me earlier in the day that I was not allowed to feed the child if this was any indication of what was coming. I said, sure! As soon as he/she is done with my boobs, he can have that responsibility. He gruffed away.
But, he did feel the need to bring it up at the BBQ to illustrate some point...oh this is where the chocolate milk comes in!
I've been having a hard time remembering to eat at work. I get going on a project and then three hours go by and I feel like crappo. That gross feeling just before throwing up is just on the verge, and I then eat my peanut butter and jelly sandwich right there in my office, because if I don't eat immediately, I'll be sick soup all over.
So, to help with that problem, I've found that drinking milk in between meal times (which are every two hours now) helps greatly. However, I find the taste of milk repulsive on it's own, and so chocolate milk is the solution. One great thing about knowing all of the cafe staff is I can ask that instead of three pumps of chocolate, can they please just put one in? Thanks. That's all it takes, just to get that milk edge off.
So back to the BBQ - I work with Jessica, and she has been very helpful in both reminding me to eat, and by becoming my sponsor of sorts. It isn't uncommon for her to buy me chocolate milk. She is super nice to me. Since she knew both of my delicate condition and my propensity towards the chocolate nature, for the BBQ she made sure I had a non-beer drink, and thus a half gallon of delicious chocolate milk was in the frige. I too had brought a non-beer drink (ginger ale. Yum.) so as we were leaving, she told me to take it home because she doesn't drink the stuff. No argument here!
We were walking out with the jug of milk, the chocolate prizes I won from the Easter Egg Hunt, and Dan, and as we're saying thank you and goodnight, he shares that I'm not allowed to feel the child. My response is the same as before, we all have a good laugh, and we go home.
It is Monday, and there is still some chocolate milk left. I haven't gone crazy, but man o man, do I love chocolate milk. I force myself to use a small juice class. The 4 oz size. But with the donuts and the milk, this past weekend was a sugar fest, and it had nothing to do with easter candy consumption.
Why don't I binge on salad? Apples? I like those things too!
I didn't know what sort of donut Dan might like, him not being much of a sweets guy, so I got 6 different ones that I would like, because worse case scenario, I would have to eat them all (awesome!). Honestly, with how I was feeling, I don't know how I got them home.
By 10am it was time for a nap, and I had only eaten two. Dan, it turns out, does like donuts, and helped a bit, but after out afternoon naps (yes, they come in multiples) the number of donuts had decreased again. Thankfully we went to Jessica's house for a BBQ, where I got some carrots, corn, and a hot dog in my system. Dan told me earlier in the day that I was not allowed to feed the child if this was any indication of what was coming. I said, sure! As soon as he/she is done with my boobs, he can have that responsibility. He gruffed away.
But, he did feel the need to bring it up at the BBQ to illustrate some point...oh this is where the chocolate milk comes in!
I've been having a hard time remembering to eat at work. I get going on a project and then three hours go by and I feel like crappo. That gross feeling just before throwing up is just on the verge, and I then eat my peanut butter and jelly sandwich right there in my office, because if I don't eat immediately, I'll be sick soup all over.
So, to help with that problem, I've found that drinking milk in between meal times (which are every two hours now) helps greatly. However, I find the taste of milk repulsive on it's own, and so chocolate milk is the solution. One great thing about knowing all of the cafe staff is I can ask that instead of three pumps of chocolate, can they please just put one in? Thanks. That's all it takes, just to get that milk edge off.
So back to the BBQ - I work with Jessica, and she has been very helpful in both reminding me to eat, and by becoming my sponsor of sorts. It isn't uncommon for her to buy me chocolate milk. She is super nice to me. Since she knew both of my delicate condition and my propensity towards the chocolate nature, for the BBQ she made sure I had a non-beer drink, and thus a half gallon of delicious chocolate milk was in the frige. I too had brought a non-beer drink (ginger ale. Yum.) so as we were leaving, she told me to take it home because she doesn't drink the stuff. No argument here!
We were walking out with the jug of milk, the chocolate prizes I won from the Easter Egg Hunt, and Dan, and as we're saying thank you and goodnight, he shares that I'm not allowed to feel the child. My response is the same as before, we all have a good laugh, and we go home.
It is Monday, and there is still some chocolate milk left. I haven't gone crazy, but man o man, do I love chocolate milk. I force myself to use a small juice class. The 4 oz size. But with the donuts and the milk, this past weekend was a sugar fest, and it had nothing to do with easter candy consumption.
Why don't I binge on salad? Apples? I like those things too!
Thursday, April 21, 2011
It's a racket
Audrey and I went on a great little adventure today.
I've been doing a lot of work on the weekends in April, and so one of my days off has moved to Thursday. Last Thursday Audrey and I got together with the intent to go check out a second hand baby/mama store looking for stretchy waist bands and comfort, but got so worn out before leaving that we sat on my couches and watched "Babies" on Netflicks streaming.
This week we mustered up the energy, fortified by bagels with cream cheese from Bagelman's, and gave it a go. We oohed and ahhed over the racks of little girl and boy clothes, holding up skirts, sweaters, and dresses that had us wishing weeks 18-22 would hurry up and get here so we can know the gender of our babes (did I mention Audrey is about 5 weeks ahead of me, preggo wise?). (We're not taking any bets, and we'll be happy with what ever comes out, but we both have gut feelings that we're having girls. Or maybe we just love the little dresses with frilly butt bloomers!)
She and I both have Winter birthdays, me being January 16th and her February 15th. We both love fall, with the sweaters, scarves, cinnamon smells, holidays, and parties. And now, we're both going to have birthdays to plan for our babes too! She is due in September and me in October. All in all, it's awesome to have a friend going through this with me.
So...
We finally made it to the mom room with it's array of undefined waistlines and scalloped collars (eew). It was pretty bleak. We've heard that second hand maternity ware is 1) hard to find and 2) not so good when you find it. It seems that retailers know that they've got a trapped audience who need stretchy things, so they mark em up and keep em up. And, it seems that everyone else passes along their clothes to the next wave of pregnant people in their lives (it does come in waves. There are four pregnant women at work, plus Audrey, plus Dan's family and friend...)
I did find one pair of linen pants with both elastic and a tie, and I hope once I get too big to fit my tum in them, I can just scoot the waist band under it.
Target was the next stop, where we didn't find anything, but did get both a sugar rush and then sudden drop after sucking on a blue raspberry Icee. Lesson learned. Icee = angry. But, I have one more pair of pants. I'm not so huge that I'm getting ready to buy a belly band or anything like that, but I've scoped them out and know it's on the way.
It's hard to reconcile the price for some of the pregnant things out there. It's like the wedding industry - people can get sucked in to buying tons of stuff that is expensive because this, supposedly, is something in life that deserves the added attention (read:money) I'm not buying it...yet. When I'm huge and suffering through summer and want nothing but a bathing suit that fits around my globe so I can float in a huge pool of not-humidity, I'll probably shell out the 40 bucks I saw one going for today. And that was the cheap one!
I've been doing a lot of work on the weekends in April, and so one of my days off has moved to Thursday. Last Thursday Audrey and I got together with the intent to go check out a second hand baby/mama store looking for stretchy waist bands and comfort, but got so worn out before leaving that we sat on my couches and watched "Babies" on Netflicks streaming.
This week we mustered up the energy, fortified by bagels with cream cheese from Bagelman's, and gave it a go. We oohed and ahhed over the racks of little girl and boy clothes, holding up skirts, sweaters, and dresses that had us wishing weeks 18-22 would hurry up and get here so we can know the gender of our babes (did I mention Audrey is about 5 weeks ahead of me, preggo wise?). (We're not taking any bets, and we'll be happy with what ever comes out, but we both have gut feelings that we're having girls. Or maybe we just love the little dresses with frilly butt bloomers!)
She and I both have Winter birthdays, me being January 16th and her February 15th. We both love fall, with the sweaters, scarves, cinnamon smells, holidays, and parties. And now, we're both going to have birthdays to plan for our babes too! She is due in September and me in October. All in all, it's awesome to have a friend going through this with me.
So...
We finally made it to the mom room with it's array of undefined waistlines and scalloped collars (eew). It was pretty bleak. We've heard that second hand maternity ware is 1) hard to find and 2) not so good when you find it. It seems that retailers know that they've got a trapped audience who need stretchy things, so they mark em up and keep em up. And, it seems that everyone else passes along their clothes to the next wave of pregnant people in their lives (it does come in waves. There are four pregnant women at work, plus Audrey, plus Dan's family and friend...)
I did find one pair of linen pants with both elastic and a tie, and I hope once I get too big to fit my tum in them, I can just scoot the waist band under it.
Target was the next stop, where we didn't find anything, but did get both a sugar rush and then sudden drop after sucking on a blue raspberry Icee. Lesson learned. Icee = angry. But, I have one more pair of pants. I'm not so huge that I'm getting ready to buy a belly band or anything like that, but I've scoped them out and know it's on the way.
It's hard to reconcile the price for some of the pregnant things out there. It's like the wedding industry - people can get sucked in to buying tons of stuff that is expensive because this, supposedly, is something in life that deserves the added attention (read:money) I'm not buying it...yet. When I'm huge and suffering through summer and want nothing but a bathing suit that fits around my globe so I can float in a huge pool of not-humidity, I'll probably shell out the 40 bucks I saw one going for today. And that was the cheap one!
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