Baby gut

I know it’s really early in my pregnancy so I’ve been pretty meticulously monitoring the scale. It seems my inability to eat in the morning has been offsetting my sometimes ridiculous cravings in the evenings. I’ve gained a pound and a half.
My body doesn’t feel like it’s a pound and a half bigger. My baby gut & bloat feel like six or eight pounds of mass making all my pants uncomfortable. Working from home has been a HUGE blessing & I’ve spent the past few weeks living in yoga pants. I have a few pairs of maternity jeans stuffed up in my closet from my appendectomy and I’m totally ready to bust them out now. I know I’m not ‘showing’ but the fact that my uterus has already grown from the size of a pear to that of a grapefruit has to count for something.
(Seriously, a grapefruit??)
I do feel kinda silly about all of this. If the clothes weren’t already in my closet, I’d probably suffer through several more weeks and walk around the house with my jeans unbuttoned half the time.
But really, is it so bad to want to be comfortable?

Gender Queer

It’s no secret. I’m a pretty girly kind of girl. I don’t mind being a bit stereotypical sometimes. I like pink. I love going shopping. I have an obsession with shoes and purses. I like wearing dresses and shoes that are cute even if they hurt my feet a little. When I was a kid, I loved my Barbies and hated getting dirty.
My sister is none of these things. I think she’s beautiful, but her standard uniform is a tee shirt and jeans. I had to drag her shopping once to get her just one cute top, after trying on and vetoing twenty others. She doesn’t wear make up (doesn’t need to either), lives in comfy shoes, and is pretty happy all the same. When we played with our Barbie dolls together she’d get mad at me for wanting to change outfits all the time instead of going on an adventure. And a lot of times, she just gave up on me and went to play with our brother.
My brother is pretty unique himself. He’s been a ‘guys guy’, played countless hours of video games, and kept collections of rubber snakes and bugs around as a kid. But he also harbors a very artistic side, never got much into sports and managed to come out pretty balanced and happy.
I do wonder sometimes how much ‘traditional’ gender roles influenced our behavior versus the open nurturing attitude my parents took towards our interests and sense of style. These are things that have been on my mind a lot lately, as people are asking me questions about my  preference of gender, and if we’ll find out before it’s born.
I have a lot of issues with this, though. I don’t want to ‘find out’ because, for one, the ultrasound technician could be wrong.
For two, I don’t want to divide this child’s world into pink and blue. Dolls and cars are not just for girls and boys respectively. I want to nurture whatever beginning inclinations appear, however subtly. I don’t want to miss those nuances because I couldn’t see past a cute outfit or a toy that I would have loved to play with when I was little.
For three, I know too often a person is born who fits even farther outside what some consider to be socially acceptable. I want to nurture happiness and self confidence in whatever body my child is given.
So it seems pretty simple, right? Just wait until the baby is born, right?
That’s all well and good, except Brandon doesn’t want to wait to find out. And I have this problem with being deathly curious once a piece of information can be easily relayed to me. So it’s not like they could tell him and not me. Because then I might explode. (Or something like that.)  It’s not like Brandon doesn’t agree with my reasons for not wanting to know. He just seems to think it will all be ok regardless. And in all honesty, it probably will. But it still seems like a huge responsibility that I don’t want to screw up.


It would seem only fitting that since my last hardcore craving was cinnamon, now it is sugar. Specifically, I’m fixated on donuts. Last night I was making a mental list of all the kinds that I like just to see if I could get up to a dozen.
I don’t know what I’d do with a dozen donuts in real life, other than make a serious dent in them.
Arg. Must stop this madness.
(Or maybe just go down the road to Dunkin & get this over with.)

On being pregnant

You’re growing another human being.
Upon this realization, I feel, at best, completely under-qualified, and at worst, undeserving.

You’re growing another human being.
It seems like far to much to ask of a single person. One who is making her way from dawn to dusk aided by mass quantities of caffeine. And then take away that crutch and ask her to assemble cells in a meticulous order so as to create something of beauty and utmost importance.

You’re growing another human being.
It feels solitary, being pregnant, no matter how many amazing women have gone before you graciously, and kindly lend their support. Moment to moment, you do not know what exactly is going on inside you. You can only pray.

You’re growing another human being.
I’ve begun to wonder what mistakes I will make with this child. Which ones will be easily forgotten, and which will be unforgivable. I’m quite capable of doing things very wrong, even with the best of intentions. I hope this child can will see someday how hard I tried.

You’re growing another human being.
This is what it’s like face to face with everything you ever thought you wanted. Overjoyed and yet scared shitless. I feel as though I cannot breathe and yet I keep drawing breaths.

I’m growing another human being.

More pregnancy appetite weirdness…

Today started out miserable.
The thought of anything in my kitchen made me gag.
I tried a prune, and then another. After the third, I had to stop because it wasn’t working.
I made some toast with a tiny bit of honey.
I tried to drink some water, but even that made me queasy.
So I whimpered around most of the morning rubbing my belly and not throwing anything up.
When Brandon came home for lunch I finally remembered to call the dentist (they needed his soc. # for insurance) and then they offered me an appointment at 1pm. Aka, in one hour.
So I showered, fixed my face, tried to not think too much about the metallic taste of dental tools that would soon be filling my mouth, and got off to the dentist.
Now I love my dentist and everyone in their office (East State Dental, if you’re in the market.) My hygienist happened to just be back this week from maternity leave, so when I told her that I was pregnant (in case that changes anything) she was ecstatic. I totally lost count of how many times she stopped working on my teeth to ask me a question about the baby & my pregnancy so far.
So despite the sensitive/bleedy gums (thank you hormones!) I felt pretty good about the check up. And suddenly I got hungry. The first food sign I saw leaving the parking lot: coney dogs.
No appetite all day, I get my mouth picked over and suddenly I want junk food? Oh well.
I drove back up to a place closer to my neighborhood (Dawsons Dogs, yum!) and scarfed down a couple like I hadn’t eaten all day. Because, well, I hadn’t really.
So whatever, body, you will continue to perplex me for the next seven and a half months. Those coneys were awesome though!


My body has been hitting  me with a lot of cravings already lately so I’m going to try to keep track. Today it’s cinnamon. I can’t get the idea of a cinnamon bun, or raisin toast or a french toast bagel from Panera out of my head.
Who wants to decipher that one?


I think I may finally be starting to phase out of my ‘need to sleep constantly’ period.
The only reason I’m guessing this, is because both last night and tonight I’ve had the hardest time getting tired and going to sleep.
Now, around 4 p.m. this afternoon, it was an entirely different story.
I was out running errand and suddenly I knew I had to get home, like, now. And I passed out until 6:30 this evening. Did I sleep too long? Did I just sleep too late this morning? (almost 10 a.m., don’t judge.) I’m not quite sure.
Maybe my body is just giving me the chance to finally get some exercise in, which I’m feeling pretty desperate for. I’m achy and fidgety, and not really in any sort of good way.
I guess tomorrow I’ll make it a priority to go for a good walk or stretch or see if Netflix has any good prenatal yoga videos.