Like my title? God how I miss the 90’s sometimes. Which shows you how young I was in the 90’s.
There is too much swirling around in the old noggin’ to write anything of substance so this will have to do.
– The weather is beautiful right now. Unseasonably warm and gorgeously sunny. Even up in foggy old San Francisco it’s hitting the mid 70s to low 80s which is pretty much unheard of. I, personally, am loving it.
– Except it’s causing my allergies to go super nuclear ninja on me and I’m pretty miserable because of it. I broke down and asked my OB to write me an Rx for nasal spray allergy medication. I just couldn’t handle the itchy throat (I was daydreaming of reaching my hand in there and just going at it), the burning eyes and the insane sneezing. I was having sneezing fits that lasted up to five minutes and included dozens, YES I COUNTED – DOZENS! of sneezes. And these are the kind of sneezes that rack your body and make you worry you might pee yourself. Not fun. So I’m taking a nasal spray med for it and I’m trying not to feel too guilty about it.
– I’m also trying not to feel too guilty about the Tylenol I’m popping once a week to help tame these tension headaches. Sadly my hot water bottle started leaking and I haven’t been able to find a new one yet (how can all the Walgreens be out! Obviously us ladies need our hot water bottles. Stock that shit, for the love!) and that was my main way of keeping the tension headaches at bay. Once they hit it’s hard to get rid of them with out medicinal help. Yesterday in my desperation to find some relief (when no acetaminophen was to be found) I witnessed a 32 year old woman (yours truly) chugging Baby Tylenol (the purple stuff, if you must know) like it was liquid candy. I’m happy to report that despite my shame, it got the job done.
– I announced my pregnancy to my classes yesterday. There was much whooping and clapping and some incredulous faces. A couple of girls in each class insisted the KNEW I was pregnant because, and I quote, “you had been eating so much.” Well thank you ladies, for noticing me stuffing my face. Always appreciated. Now I don’t have to hide the ever burgeoning bump under big shirts, which is a relief, except I wonder if it really is a bump at all or I’m just seeing one. When I look down, through the ever lessening crevasse between my ever more gigantic tatas, it looks very much like a bump, but seen from the side or the front, I think it just looks like a round mound of belly fat (which it pretty much is at this point). Which is fine, though I guess that’s not something I want to strut about with just yet.
– Speaking of the bump, I swear I’ve felt the baby move twice. They were both distinctive pops, right under my belly button, and neither was associated with intestinal “distress” of any kind (yes, I mean gas). I think I feel them there because that area right under my belly button is still really sensitive from my last pregnancy so I guess I can register movement there more easily. Maybe this is all crazy, and in my head, but the baby is measuring almost 14 weeks at this point (if my NT scan measurement is to be believed) so I suppose it’s possible.
– As for weeks, I’m unsure now how many weeks along I am now. Do I go by my original count (I’d be 12.5 weeks now) or the new count (14 weeks). I got an email from the NP who first met with us saying she had moved up my EDD from Nov. 2 to Oct. 22 based on the new measurement from the NT scan, which was 10 days farther along than I was originally. Now when people ask–and I personally obsess–about how far along I am not sure what to say/think. I’m kind of sticking with something in the middle and hoping that is okay.
– I must admit to feeling much better about this pregnancy now that the NT scan is over with, but I still have moments of fear and panic that something terrible might happen. I read a post recently by a woman who has finished family building and needs to remind herself that it’s behind her, it’s done, she can move on. The post really struck a cord with me, as I’ve been realizing that if this works out, I will be done with my family building efforts. The fact that in six months I might walk away from all of this (relatively) unscathed is overwhelming. And seems unlikely. The finality of it is hard to wrap my head around. And I wonder if that ending makes it harder for me to believe this will all work out. I try to tell myself that happy, healthy babies are born every day. I try to imagine a room with 200 pregnant women and say, of all of them, only one is likely to loss their pregnancy at this point. Those are good odds. I try to convince myself that what I read on the internet is not an accurate representation of how often these horrible things happen, that there aren’t the dozens upon dozens, UPON DOZENS of happy birth stories because no one takes the time to write about those, no one congregates to get through those blissful moments. And finally I try to remind myself that no matter what I CAN DO THIS, even if “this” is unfathomably heart breaking. I can make it through. Because I do have faith in myself and in my strength, which is something I didn’t have before.
Isa is getting so big. I plan on writing a little post about it because honestly, there are so many moments that take my breath away and bring tears to my eyes. My baby girl is growing up. She will be three in less than two months. THREE! It’s insane. We told her about “the baby in mommy’s tummy” and all she wanted to know was “What it name is?” We talk about her being a big sister and I think, by the time, the baby comes, she’ll get. Right now? Not so much.
And to wrap things up, I have to share this awesome new watch
I forced Mi.Vida to get me Mi.Vida got me. I ADORE it and I want to stare at it all day long.