Friday, January 28, 2011

1/18/2011 - I KNOW...But I Might Forget

Before I begin this entry I would like to share the news that one day of sitting on my ass and merely walking the dog for exercise has either flipped my little baby's ass back the way it should be, or it died in there for the 3rd time now. The pain from being repeatedly kicked in the lady parts has gone away. Yahoo!!
Sweet Husband and I decided early on that we aren't going to find out the sex of the baby. We figure we started on this train completely blindsided by the element of surprise, we might as well finish it that way. But I know the sex. I don't know because I saw something on the ultrasound or the doctor said anything (she doesn't know yet either) I know because I KNOW. Remember the voice that told me I was pregnant? I figured once it started, I might as well ask it a few things. Like;
"Oh god, is it twins?"
"No" Whew, though I didn't quite believe it.
"Is it a boy or a girl?"
Voila! Answer!
Am I going to tell you? Of course not! You're just going to have to wait like the rest of us. But I can tell you, there is no way I'm wrong. I know it! Now, if I can just remember.
I used to say the word "preg-nesia" to my pregnant girlfriends all the time. They would forget where they put their shoes, what time they made dinner plans, etc. I thought it was just a cute little phrase everyone used, but honestly didn't think there was much merit to it. Well my dears, either preg-nesia is for real or Alzheimer's is setting in at a really early age. I can't remember shit. And it's not that kind of forgetting that just takes someone to say "Remember? You were wearing that red shirt and we were on the bus to San Pedro!" to jog the memory. It's hazy. You're not sure if it was a dream or real. Sometimes it feels like you drank WAY too much and are suffering from a black out. "Remember?? You told the guy you came with you go suck it and went home with that girl from Detroit! Right before you left you took a shot of Southern Comfort." You're blank. Then the shot of SoCo comes back to you and little by little you start remembering parts of the evening. THAT'S how it is. Except no boyfriend is sucking anything anywhere, you have never met a girl from Detroit and the night before was spent staring at yourself in the mirror to see if that tank top can still be worn with pride before going to bed at 8pm.
Case in point, I sent my sister-in-law an email yesterday asking about some baby stuff. She replied this morning in answer form, like we all do, and I had no idea what the hell she was talking about.
"A kidoppotomus? What the hell does that mean?"
Furrowing my brow I read it again,
"I can have one? Have one WHAT!? What is she talking about??"
I then had to retrace my email steps to realize I had emailed to get her opinion about some swaddling thing for newborns. I don't even recall sending that email. What time was it? What was I doing? Where was I? The whole memory is gone. I forgot my PIN the other day and I've had that same number for 14 years!
I'm sure Sweet Husband will find a way to exploit this in a particularly vulgar way (hey, he needs to get his laughs in too, it hasn't been pretty around here), but I'm warning you all out there! Don't be all sensitive if I forget your name/birthday (I never remember those anyway) or something we did recently. I can't help it. I'm suffering from...
What's that word again?

Wednesday, January 26, 2011

1/26/2011 - Well, Whaddya Know...

I've been stuck in jury duty for the past WEEK now and just got released yesterday. Praise Jesus! All that sitting around made me absolutely crazy, especially since I did not teach ONE of my 9 classes during the trial, so by the time I was let out I was a little...let's say...ambitious. I taught a kickboxing class on Monday night and went WAAAAY crazy. Big jumps, high kicks, high impact, the whole nine. After class I got home and realized my stomach (this was not at all my stomach but the exact region is somewhat hard to explain. It was in my gut, just above my pubic bone. That's right, I said pubic. Get over it people, we're all adults here and it's about to get a whole lot worse) hurt a bit. Not like hurt hurt, but felt really uncomfortable. Like someone had wrung it out. Sweet Husband chastised me, as usual, for going too big in class and encouraged me, for the 23rd time I believe, to just give up my kickboxing classes all together. Silly SH.
I went to bed Monday night and Tuesday woke up bright and early for another exciting day at court. Upon waking I noticed the feeling had not gone away, but gotten worse. Surely it's constipation, I thought. Then I visited the bathroom. Nope. *sigh* Now what? All day Tuesday the sensation remained and continued to get worse. By the time I went to bed Tuesday night I was sure I had somehow developed a very painful kink in my intestines and I would require major surgery. I was woken up around 3 am and stayed awake (after my 3 am pee, mind you) for over an hour convinced I would be giving birth to my 2 pound dead fetus at any moment. Good thing Captain Tuffy was sleeping nearby to assist in the process. Cats are notoriously good at labor and delivery (for themselves but let's not focus on details here). When I woke up Wednesday morning I walked to the gym where I proceeded to teach 2 hours of classes, both fairly low impact. During those classes, I felt fabulous. Cured! After, I realized the sensation was still there. Bummer. I called my doctor to hear her say "Oh! Yeah, that's *blank* and right around week 18 is when you'll experience that. No big deal, you're fine. See you in a few weeks!" But instead her nurse said "Oh. Yeah. You should come in. Today." Nuts.
So in I went. My doctor wasn't available to I went to the next available FEMALE doctor (I don't think this requires any more explaining on my part) who assured me it was probably some ligament pull/tear from jumping too much.
"Let's just take a look at the ultrasound to be sure." Goo on the stomach, machine fired up and away we go.
"Wow!! Your baby is a MOVER!"
"Yeah, people say that. I'm not sure if they're just supposed to be hanging out in there chillin', but I figure the more movement the more calor--"
"Oh. Uh oh."
"What, uh oh?" I said from my supine position, craning my neck so that my face was as far away from the monitor as possible lest I see a penis or labia.
"Well, a few things. Looks like all that jumping around you've been doing has placed your baby into breech position. And the placenta is in front, which we don't want."
Now, I like to consider myself a fairly calm pregnant woman. I mean, sure I thought my baby was dead a few weeks ago, but did I go racing into the doctor's office? No. Last night I thought the baby was coming out but did I wake up SH or call 911? No. So I said,
"Well, that's okay, right? I mean, it's got plenty of time to flip itself around. It's only January!"
She looked at me for a long time trying to decide if I was making a joke or being flippant. When she gave up she said,
"Um. Well, you do have a while but the position of the placenta (see? I told you the words got worse) is not what we want to see at 4 1/2 months, nor is the position of the baby. And all the movement that's going on with the baby--see, look"
I saw two legs scrunched up against a little tiny body. One of the legs seemed to be keeping time to my heart beat and was kicking straight down into a grey mass.
"That's your cervix the baby is kicking. That's why you're feeling the discomfort. Does it feel like when you get a pap smear (Super gross! I thought of omitting this but my male followers are limited)?"
"Yeah, exactly like that!"
"Well, that's what it is. It's hammering your cervix. And until it flips the other way, there's nothing we can do about it. It's good the baby is so active! In the meantime, you need to ease up on the kickboxing and take a few days to rest. Next time you come in let's hope it's flipped back around."
Now, here is what I'm thinking. What if it DOESN'T!? I mean, sure, I can get over the initial shock of having to go through a C-section (that way SH certainly CAN be in the room! How happy he will be!), but if it hurts now and the things leg is the size of a toothpick, how in the HELL is this going to feel in 4 more months???? Oh man.
Well, I sure am glad I enjoyed those few weeks of silence because this little fetus is loud and proud now.
5 months and counting.
Oh, here's a picture for everyone. I appreciate the request for jug pictures. Those will be coming soon. Promise.

Thursday, January 13, 2011

1/13/2011 - The Road To Hell...

Hiya folks! Here I am, fat as ever! Just in case you aren't quite sure what hell is, allow me to explain. Hell is when you work out 10 hours a week, eat right and sleep tight and your stomach and hips just keep getting bigger and bigger and bigger. Breathe in, breathe out.
I'm in a bit of a mood today so if you're feeling sensitive you might want to take this moment to stop reading and go fuck off. Still with me? Kay.
Even though I talk about it, let me tell you it is NOT okay for casual acquaintances to talk about my weight. Ever. Think of it as you saying "God, my mom is such a bitch" and then having an acquaintance say "How's your bitchy mom?". So not the same. Look, I get it. I teach exercise classes, my body is on display every week all week. Members have always felt some sort of freedom talking about my body, but things are happening to me that I can not control and it is not due to diet or exercise, laziness or excuses so shut your fat mouths!  DO NOT ask me how much weight I've gained as if it's any of your goddamn business, do not tell me that I look as though I've eaten too much lately and then turn to laugh with others and do not jokingly begin referring to me as "Bigger Mama" when you have always referred to me as "Lil' Mama". None of this is funny and none of this will be tolerated. Especially if you catch me on an "off" day like today, you might not be so lucky as to just get a sigh and an eye roll. You might get a slap in the mouth like you deserve.
Now, on to my title rant. Here's what I love (that is sarcastic). Women who have had children LOVE to corner the newly married, childless women and begin chatting up the merits of motherhood.
"When are you having a baby?? Babies are so amazing!"
"Why aren't you pregnant yet? You've been married a month!"
"You HAVE to have children. It's the most wonderful and rewarding thing you'll ever do."
"No woman is complete without a baby. They just bring such joy, you have no idea."
Then you actually do get pregnant (not due to anything they have said, mind you) and these same baby-loving women now show their true colors.
"Oh!! You and your husband have Martini Sunday where you mix cocktails and enjoy each others company? Bwah!! Say good bye to that!"
"Enjoy your trip to Hawaii, it'll be the last trip you take for the next 18 years!"
"You sleep 8 hours a night? Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha! I haven't slept more than 4 hours in the last 16 years!"
"Oh, you live in a quiet house? Not for long!"
"You'll learn to stop buying expensive clothes once you realize how much babies throw up!"
And they get such great joy from saying these things. Where were these cynical bitches months ago? Gone are the "joys of motherhood" stories and in march the horror stories.
It's way beyond annoying.
So listen up world outside of my 7 followers! Stop with the body comments and stop with the motherhood-sucks-but-look-I'm-Jesus-on-my-self-made-crucifix tales BUT feel free to continue staring at my huge jugs. I'm about to say goodbye to my A-cups and introduce myself to the B world. Perhaps this is merely purgatory...

Friday, January 7, 2011

1/7/2011 - Hello In There

Hello all! Happy New Year! I am happy to report my sister in law has successfully delivered her baby and at record speed no less! Excellent role modeling! Welcome to the world Leilani!
While in Hawaii I had convinced myself that, somehow, I had killed my fetus. Or that maybe it just died on its own, I guess I didn't have to play a starring role in it's demise. But, it was dead none-the-less. Why, you ask? One morning I woke up and my morning sickness was gone. GONE. Like THAT. No throwing up, no nausea (except when thinking about consuming chicken/spinach/kalamata olives), nothing. I felt great. I also felt absolutely nothing in my swollen gut. Well, except gas but that's hardly the point. I digress. The dead fetus. So I asked my sister-in-law, who is a nurse, if my fetus could just die and then sit in there and rot. Apparently not, but I think there's a first time for everything. Well, I went in for my scheduled appointment yesterday (notice the death of the little bugger didn't get me to hustle in any earlier) and told my doctor it was dead. She laughed (bless her) and said "I take it the morning sickness has stopped". Just when I thought she couldn't get any more rad. "Uh, yeah" "It's the next logical step to take. I feel sick. I feel fine. I feel nothing. Baby is dead. But it isn't, I assure you." Prove it! So she got that little thingamajig that looks like a small, boring version of the Fisher-Price radio with microphone and jabbed it into my stomach in search of a heart beat. Nothing. I'm telling you, she looked worried for a minute. "Have you had any cramping?" "Nope." I said, lifting my hands to rest behind my head and sitting back with the smug satisfaction that I was about to blow her mind. She furrowed her brows and dug in harder "Ouch!" Thud-thud Thud-thud Thud-thud. There it was. She smiled. Damn it! Is it evil to be mad about being wrong here?
15 weeks, 4 days. Still alive, though I'm not sure how. Total weight gain for all who are feverishly tabulating (and there certainly are a few of you), 3#. 125 and growing, oh man am I.
I've totally busted open this notion of a "glowing" pregnant woman. Some of you sadists actually say "I never felt better than when I was pregnant!" or "I wish I could be pregnant all the time!" For those of you who have never been pregnant let me tell you that either these people are LYING, love the hell out of an excuse to sit on their asses and eat all day long OR they've never EVER taken any sort of recreational drugs. I have certainly felt better than this. on some of my worst non-pregnant days. The first 3 1/2 months are awful, as you recall. Feeling hungover and sick every day. Exhausted beyond belief. Food makes you want to die. Then you get past it and you feel...normal. Back to how you felt before this whole thing started. You wake up and think about your day FIRST instead of how fast you can make it to the toilet (kitchen sink). You start making plans with friends that start (not end) at 8pm without having to take a barf bag in your purse. Then you start comparing it to how you felt. You decide you now feel AMAZING. When in fact what you feel is BACK TO NORMAL. So you tell everyone how great you feel, and since you're full of zest and smiles, people tell you that you're glowing. But really, you're just happy to have your face out of the toilet (kitchen sink) for more than an hour.
So you see, the I've-never-felt-better's or the You-are-positively-GLOWING's are just a reaction of you feeling like you again.
I've done cracked the case, people!
My big boobs and I are signing off.