Mindful Mondays: Reconnecting with my body

I’ve really let Mindful Mondays fall by the wayside. I’ve really let mindfulness, in general, fall by the wayside.

I’m trying to change that.

In May I made an investment in myself. I spent a considerable amount of money on a six month pass to a yoga studio not far from my apartment. The start date for my six month membership was a week ago today. I finally made it to a class yesterday.

Yoga used to be a big part of my life. I went quite frequently when classes were available at the climbing gym near where I worked. While I ceased other forms of exercise I’d once loved, I kept going to yoga for a long time.

Then even yoga became something I wished I did instead of actually doing it.

When I was pregnant I found a prenatal yoga class at the studio where I just recently bought the six month pass. Going to those classes were my favorite part of being pregnant. Every session twenty or so pregnant women and I sat around discussing our experiences and connecting with our new and ever-changing bodies. It was an amazing experience and I still see some of the women I met there.

Walking to class last week, for the first time in almost a year, I wondered what it would be like to return to yoga now, alone, without my daughter nestled safely inside me. When I was pregnant connecting with my body was miraculous, magical. Now I worried that I would feel empty, unrecognizable.

And while there were moments when my body did feel unrecognizable, and somewhat empty, I remained me, fundamentally.

Pregnancy has changed me in so many ways and generally the physical differences between my pre and post pregnancy body concern me the least. Maybe that is because they are easiest to ignore. I have my ten or so outfits that fit relatively well and I don’t have much time to look at myself in the mirror. Luckily I almost never have a reason to dress up or look nice.

At yoga I was forced to see body for what it has become. It’s softer, fleshier. It’s shaped differently. I carry more weight in my thighs and butt. I can grab whole handfuls of stretch marked flesh around my midsection. To say I was sporting a muffin top over my stretchy yoga pants would be a considerable understatement.

I knew all of this going in. I wasn’t really surprised to see how different I looked, though facing it in public, with others watching, chaffed more than at home. While how I looked wasn’t so shocking, I was surprised to notice how distinct my post-pregnancy body felt in the poses. I’ve lost strength almost every where. The balancing poses were especially challenging as I struggled to find my center. My mind was all over the place and my body felt tight and unsure of itself.

In the end I was glad I went. The longer I held the poses and the more sun salutations I completed the more familiar I felt inside of myself. I’m sure after a few months of weekly practice I will once again recognize this new body as my own.

In the meantime it’s interesting to become reacquainted, once again, with this vessel of mine. I have so much to thank it for and I hope it will perform many more miracles in my lifetime.

Thank you yoga, for helping me not take my body for granted.

The Random Musings of a Stormy Sunday

My thoughts are doing that lightening round of pinball thing again. Only I think there are like 10 balls out right now.

A big storm has been ravaging Northern California for the past few days. On Friday our school was on lock down for 30 minutes for a tornado warning! When my sister, daughter and I arrived at my parents house down on the peninsula yesterday there were still mounds of hail in the front yard. Last night I woke up and realized that the pelting rain I was hearing was not Isa’s white noise track but was the storm outside, drowning out the Forest Rain sounds we had playing. Flash flood warnings are out all over the area.

* * * * *

It was a tough week without Mi.Vida here. I got sick almost immediately with a brutal cold. It started with a hellacious sore throat on Wednesday night. On Thursday morning I still felt okay but by 4th period an achy feverishness was descending. There was moment where I was sitting there feeling myself get sicker literally by the second. My 4th period students all commented on the marked difference in my appearance and demeanor from the beginning of the period and the end. This cold ended up a concrete block in my sinuses and some gunk in my lungs, but it does seem to be breaking up.

Unfortunately Isa has not been feeling better since her tooth actually cut. She’s been keeping me and my SIL on our toes with occasional vomiting episodes and frequent poopsplosions. Isa had 3 baths in under 24 hours recently. It was rough.

On Friday night I scrounged up the energy to make myself a proper dinner only to realize two bites in that I couldn’t taste it at all. It was incredibly disappointing.

Between my cold and Isa’s tummy troubles it’s been a very long week indeed.

* * * * *

I retreated down to my parents’ house this weekend for back up. My sister came along for some family time. I remember on Thursday I called my mother to tell her how sick I was and she asked if I still was coming over. I was incredulous. If I could have come down right then I would have, why would I NOT come?! I wanted someone to take care of me, or at least take care of Isa so I could take care of me.

The time down here has been wonderful. I feel much better and Isa seems to as well. We’ve eaten amazing meals and enjoyed the clean, beautifully decorated space that is my parents’ house. Being stuck inside due to storms is much more tolerable when you’re stuck in a considerably sized house with yellow walls and red couches.

Last night I shared a room with Isa and I actually enjoyed it quite a bit. It was nice to be able to lay quietly and hear her breathing next to me in the Pack n’ Play. She was peculiarly tolerant of the noises I was sure to be making. Also, the trundle in the guest room is much quieter than I remembered, so that was a pleasant surprise.

* * * * *

Mi.Vida comes home today. His flight is a little delayed by the storm but he should be home in a few hours. I’m so excited to see him and relieved that he will be home.

This afternoon I’m going to visit my very good friends who welcomed their daughter into the world this Monday (don’t worry, I’ll be wearing a mask so as not to expose her to my cold). The new mom has been combating some pretty rough baby blues but seems to be feeling better. Her experience is a relevant reminder of how challenging it can be to bring a new life into the world and then nurture it in those stressful, sleep deprived first days. I spoke to her at length on Thursday when she was realizing, seemingly for the first time, just how entirely her life had changed. She was going through a mourning period for her old life, feeling as if she were experiencing an actual death. I was again reminded of how fortunate I was to have such a euphoric transition into motherhood. I think I took it for granted, but not anymore.

* * * * *

My mother’s scale (and my masochistic disposition) reminded me that I’m a good 12 pounds over my pre-pregnancy weight. I’ve been steadily gaining weight since I stopped breastfeeding (and started indulging more in alcoholic beverages at the end of the day). I suppose definitive action is going to need to be made, but I haven’t decided what that will be. My dad showed a short home movie that he took a week or so again on his 54″ wide screen TV and I was unpleasantly surprised by the way I looked. It was that wake-up call that you hear so many women talk about before they start a program like Weight Watchers or Jenny Craig. My past food and body image issues make me reticent to start a full blown diet of any kind but there are daily choices I know I could be making to improve the way I look. I guess I better start making them sooner rather than later.

Unfortunately my daughter is having the opposite problem. Her tummy issues have resulted in the steady decline of her intake, both on the formula and solid foods fronts. She used to take four 6-8 ounce bottles a day and eat three full servings of solids (about 100 calories a serving). Now we’re lucky if she drinks 5 ounces at a time (sometimes it’s as little as 2 or 3) and she rarely eats a whole serving of solids, many times refusing them completely. I think this started when she was uncomfortable from cutting her tooth and now her body is used to the reduced calories. I’m concerned because she has consistently been falling down in the weight percentiles (she started at 98% and is now at 50%) and that was when she ate well. I can only imagine how she’ll fall now that she’s eating so poorly.

I never understood why parents worried so much about their children’s caloric intake. I figured that human beings ate when they are hungry (I certainly do). But now I see that it can become a very stressful subject indeed. Perhaps its the lingering effects from my lactation consultant fiasco so long ago, perhaps it’s just my nature, but I’m disappointed every check-up that she’s barely gained a pound a month, many times less than that. I know Isa is a relatively good eater I just hope she’ll remember how it feels to eat full servings and start to be hungry for them again.

* * * * *

Well this became a surprisingly verbose post. I supposed I should wrap it up. I’ll end by telling you that I’m looking forward to two social events this week. On Thursday I’m meeting with some other mom’s at a restaurant near my home. Another mom posted something on my mothers’ listserve and so many people responded she had to divide us into 4 nights! It’s obvious that mamas feel isolated and are eager to meet other mamas. I certainly know the feeling! Then on Sunday I’m meeting with Bodega Bliss (mentioned in Friday’s post) and I’m SO excited to do so. I’m proud to be taking definitive steps to combat my feelings of isolation and the general lack of friendship I feel in my life.

Confessional Fridays: The perfect fit?

So here it is. My confession for today.

This morning I tried on my pre-pregnancy jeans and… they fit! But I was kind of (really) bummed with how they fit.

In fact I was pretty depressed about it. I know I should be happy but I wasn’t. Well that’s not totally accurate.

When I first tried them on, after realizing that the jeans I have been wearing (two particularly stretchy pairs of DKNYs left from my “weightier” days) were feeling baggier than usual, I was ecstatic! Not only could I get them past my thighs, but I could button them! I was over the moon. I mean, I haven’t actively done much to lose the baby weight, even since I stopped breast feeding regularly. Heck, last night I ate deep fried mac n’ cheese spring rolls! (SOOOOOO GOOD!) So fitting into these jeans with the minimal effort I’d put worth was astonishing. I was so excited I almost woke up my man to tell him. But I didn’t. And I’m glad I didn’t because later, the tides turned.

So anyway, I put them on, I buttoned them, for sure they were tight but they fit. Now these were a pair of jeans that sit at my waist, or the latitudinal line that intersects with my belly button that I’m told is supposed to be my waist. So I knew it was going to be a long time before this pair fit me. I could already get on many pre-pregnancy pants that fit below the waist, but they were tight and uncomfortable. I had enough pants from my days in sizes with a ten’s place (that I kept especially for this time in my life) that I liked wearing so I wasn’t about to pour myself into anything uncomfortable.

The problem is, I don’t really have many jeans that fit below my waist anymore. I have no hips to speak of and my pants sag easily. I was constantly worried about plummer’s butt and with good reason. So I finally bought a pair of higher waisted jeans and I loved them. No more worrying about my rear making it’s way into the daylight. These had become my jeans.

So I put on my jeans and they fit! They were snug, but not the button-buckling snug they had been the last time I gave them a try. In fact, they seemed like they fit like they are going to fit, from now on. Which, I realized after wearing them around the house, is not very well. Let’s just say muffin top doesn’t do it justice.

Now my stomach has never been my best feature. In fact, it’s my worst. I have an apple shaped body; no hips or ass to speak of, all the squishy stuff ends up on my stomach. I’ve tried doing sit-ups and other ab work but it won’t help. Even when I carried (an unhealthy) 115 pounds on my 5’8″ frame I still had a paunch. It’s just how my body carries weight. If there is going to be some excess fat on me, it will sit around my middle.

This actually made me feel pretty good during pregnancy. I mean, if my stomach was already my worst feature, one I was used to stealthily hiding with appropriate shirts and pants, it didn’t matter what happened to it while I carried a child to term. You can’t lose something you didn’t have in the first place.

Since I had Isa I’ve realized that what most woman say is true. You’ll lose the weight but your body will never be the same. And I know mine won’t. I’m hoping to keep this hint of an ass I procured during my pregnancy. I’m assuming I’ll also keep this soft, squishy, doughy mound that has taken over my midsection.

When I’m wearing hip cut pants, as most of mine are, my tummy doesn’t bother me so much. Sure, I spill out all over the place, but I always have, at least a little. I mean, something has ALWAYS stuck out a bit past my pants. And that is okay. I have shirts and sweaters that minimize the damage. And even with the spillage, they are comfortable. I don’t notice the fat because it’s free to rest gently where it wants. But in my waist-cut jeans? I’m being restrictively contained AND spilling out all over the place. I felt like I was simultaneously being suffocated and exploding. It was not good. In fact, it was down right depressing.

So that is my confession. I’m depressed because even though I can fit into my jeans, I hate them, or I hate myself in them. It’s not actually so much about these specific jeans per say. This jean experience is just the cherry on top of a woe-is-me-I-feel-frumpy-and-hate-all-my-clothes-and-loathe-my-hair-and-feel-like-I-have-no-style diatribe I’ve been playing on repeat these past months.

I guess my confession is I think I’m destined for “mom jeans” and it terrifies me.

Do you feel like you’ve lost your style? Do you think you have to sacrifice how you look to be a mother, be it your body or your clothes? (And here I actually mean you specifically not the general “you” because I know that some woman can pull it off, I’ve seen it with my own eyes). Do you have a pair of jeans you still love, and if so, where did you get them? C’mon girls, help a jean-lovin’ muffin-top mama out!

Thoughtful Thursdays: Weight

I don’t want this to be a long post (mostly because it’s 10:38 and I PROMISED myself I’d be in bed by 11pm tonight.) Another reason I don’t want to make this too long is I don’t want to spend too much of my precious time thinking about this particular topic. In fact, I’d rather never think about it again.

You see, I lost a lot of years to the “weight” topic. More specifically, I lost a lot of years to food obsessions and body image issues and feeling like I’d always be thinking about food, my body, exercise and the numbers on the scale. The only time I ever understood suicide was in the throes of my eating disorders, when I saw my life as a series of days, stacked before me, each exquisitely centered around what I would eat and how much.

I absolutely thought that I’d spend my whole life dealing with my eating disorders. I thought I might be better but I never really thought I’d be well. Then, I went to Spain for my Junior year abroad. I hated the food at my dorm and had no money to buy anything else. I ran and exercised a lot, not to mention all the walking I did around Madrid, and I ended up buying size 6 clothes at the local boutiques. I went home for Christmas and everyone told me how awesome I looked. I finally had the body I wanted, the only problem was I was miserable. It was one of my darkest years and my depression got really, really bad. In that year I learned, first hand and the hard way, that being skinny did not equal being happy. Somehow I took this lesson very much to heart and over the next two years I got over my eating issues – completely. I never thought I’d say this, but now I have a very healthy relationship with food. I eat what I want, when I want it and I NEVER think about how many calories something is. (The only think I could improve on is fruits and veggies – I still don’t get enough of those.) Somehow, despite my laissez faire attitude towards food and even exercise, I’ve hovered in a size 8 and felt very content with my body.

Until I got pregnant.

Now I don’t want this to be a boo-hoo story about how I lost my figure when I was pregnant and want to get it back. Really, that’s not how I feel. But I have noticed, more frequently lately, that when I catch a glimpse of myself  in a mirror I don’t feel so good about what I see. I lost most of my 45 pound pregnancy weight gain already and have been oscillating between 8 and 12 pounds above my pre-pregnancy weight. I wasn’t going to try to lose that last bit while breastfeeding because I’d heard that, while breastfeeding burns calories and helps you lose a lot of weight at first, it can also make your body hold onto those last pounds. And while ten pounds is nothing to laugh at, when you were up 45, it doesn’t seem so bad.

And I don’t want to feel like it is that bad, but then I catch my reflection and I look, well, big. I look very big. I think I’m actually gaining weight again right now and maybe I’m noticing that. Today I had a skirt on and all day I could feel the elastic cutting into my stomach, reminding me of the extra “me” I have collected there. It made me feel uncomfortable and kind of down on myself. And I HATE feeling down on myself because of my weight.

So now I have to figure out what my game plan is. I’m terrified to fall into the weight loss game again. I NEVER want to be that person again, the person who lost almost a decade of her life to weight obsessions. At the same time, I want to feel good about myself and find myself attractive. Lord knows I have enough working against my relationship with Mi.Vida right now, having a piss poor self imagine might hurl me (us) over the edge. So something has to happen, the problem is I’m not sure what.

I have to admit, I exchanged the svelte, city-friendly stroller I’d been coveting for months for a bigger, bulkier, heavier jogging stroller because I hoped that running would be in my future again. I used to love to run and it would be great to get some exercise with Isa at my side (or in front of me) while allowing Mi.Vida some precious time to himself. While I haven’t even begun contemplating actually putting on a running bra (or two?! these tatas will probably not be contained by a single over the shoulder boulder holder these days) and hitting the pavement, it’s nice to know that I have that option should I want it. In the meantime I have to decide if I walking is good enough for now or I want to start “watching what I eat” (Ah! I hate even typing that!)

Again, I want to reiterate that I am not complaining about this weight gain. I’d never lose this weight if that were the cost of my healthy daughter. But I would be lying if I didn’t mention here that weight is on my mind and causing me angst. This blog is meant to be an honest account of my experiences and I would be remiss if not mentioning the weight stuff along with everything else.

So I guess that’s all I can say about it now. When I come to a more definite conclusion I’ll let you all know.

BUENAS NOTICIAS – I met with a friend today and walked well over four miles. I guess that’s a start!

My so-called week off

Oh my week off. I swear I’m going to be more stressed out at the end of it than I was at the beginning.

Operation rearrange our house has begun. Mi.Vida actually spurred the effort by pulling five boxes down from above some cabinets in our living room and rummaging through them. They were left over from his when he moved in two years ago and have just sat up there ever since. So he cleaned out three of the boxes and will be restoring two of them. All in all, he’s done a great job, though the living room looks like a tornado hit it. But as I always say (or have always repeated) it has to get messier before it can get cleaner.

In the same vein, I started on the closet in the guest room. That closet was so full of crap that doesn’t even belong to me, it’s mostly the remnants of my past two roommates. It was very easy to go through all of it and throw it away or give it away. Then I went into the storage room and brought in many of the things I know we need to find new homes for; our big box of Costco-sized stand-bys (extra bottles of shampoo, body wash, face lotion, etc), the box of medicine and the box of first aid found new homes in the closet. Plus I found space for the paper towels and the toilet paper (also purchased in bulk). Finally I brought in the plastic drawer set that houses all of our tools. Finally, I used the precious foot of hanger space to put all our jackets. All in all the closet is looking great and I know we have somewhere to put a few of the things from the storage room. The rest of it is going to be much more difficult. Still, it feels good to have started.

Cleaning out the baby’s room has been much easier than it would have been if I weren’t using it to avoid doing grad school work. I’m so screwed on grad school work, and it’s all my fault. I’m actually in the middle of writing my last of three observation papers, which are all due today, and then I have two huge assignments due in a week. I’ll probably have to take a day off next week just to finish one of them. I have no one to blame but myself for all of this. For the past two weekends I avoided doing these papers telling myself I could get them done during the break if need be. I also didn’t know how intense the second of the final two assignments would be and so that has really thrown me for a loop, time wise. Needless to say, I’m having a hard time motivating to get this work done, despite the fact that I have no more time to procrastinate.

One thing I did get done was my taxes and thanks to how much I spent (or was spent in my name – thanks Uncle Sam!) on grad school last year I’m getting back quite a substantial sum of money. Probably just enough to pay off my third exorbitant VISA bill next month.

I also went to the nutritionist this week and found that despite my fears I’m a pretty healthy eater. When I weighed in there I was 158.5, which is slightly less than I weighed at the doctor’s office almost two weeks before. I felt great about that. I feel for the first time that my weight gain is on track and not totally out of control. I’m no longer so scared to stay on my Zo.loft, and I might even raise the 12.5mg dose to 25mg in the next week or so. God knows I have the stress in my life right now to justify it.

So that is where I am right now. I’m feeling completely overwhelmed by grad school work and this house project. Thankfully I have a pretty good idea of where I stand for work next week and missing one day to finish grad school is not really that difficult, given what I planned to get done. I guess everything will probably be okay in the end.

There have been many moments this past week where I’ve been completely overwhelmed and stressed out by things (like the day I spent 5 hours cleaning out my closet at my mother’s house) and then I’ve felt a kick from my baby, only to be reminded that none of this really matters that much. I’m so happy I have something to literally give me a swift kick to remind me of that. What a lucky woman I am.

BUENAS NOTICIAS – I had amazing Chinese food for lunch and that is hard to come by. I also spent the morning at the Academy of Sciences, which is so, so cool.

My dilemma

I don’t have a scale at my house. I never have since I moved away from my parents. There are reasons for that, and I’ll get to them later.

While I don’t have a scale, there is one, a very accurate one, at house where I tutor. I’ve gotten in the habit of stepping on it twice a week to monitor my weight gain. So yesterday I went on and freaked out. 162.4! I was 159.0 at the doctor’s office exactly one week (almost to the hour) before. That means I gained 3.4 pounds in one week. That is totally absurd. There is NO way that I eating an excess of 10,000+ calories every week. Plus this week I did a ton of exercise!

I spend the whole drive home sobbing. I feel out of control. I haven’t thought about what I’ve eaten in about four years and I have gained almost no weight during that time. If I wanted pizza, I ate pizza, many times I ate 3 pieces of pizza. If I wanted pasta I ate pasta, dripping in olive oil and Parmesan cheese. At a restaurant I never tried to pick the “good for me” meal, I just picked what I wanted. I didn’t even exercise that much and I never gained a pound. I must have been doing something right. Now I’m doing, what feels like, the same thing, but gaining intense amounts of weight. I started gaining it right when I started taking the Zoloft. Before the Zoloft I had gained no weight (even during 12 weeks of pregnancy). After the Zoloft, 10 pounds a month. Coincidence? I don’t think so.

Of course I’m also pregnant. I’ve never been pregnant so I don’t know how my body responds to being pregnant. I’m SURE being pregnant is causing much of this weight gain. Sure of it. But I also think the Zoloft is contributing a lot as well. I can’t deny that either.

Just watch what you eat, you may say. And of course that is a very reasonable piece of advice, one I should be able to take quite easily. The problem is that I struggled with food and weight issues for 8 years. They were the hardest years of my life. I struggled with depression and body issues for so long, I never thought I’d get untangled from that mess. I never actually contemplated suicide, but there were times when I was so deep in the holds of my obsession with food that my life just felt like a series of days, moments where I was consumed by thoughts of food. During those times, I understood completely why someone would take their own life.

Then I went to Spain and, because of certain situations there, was able to take my weight control issues to new extremes. I lost a ton of weight. I was 120-125 pounds, the skinniest I’ve been since I was 12. I was also very unhappy. I felt out of control, I felt upset all the time. I made bad choices and was tormented by them. And when I moved home, a light bulb went off in my head: being skinny does not happiness guarantee. That was a huge realization for me, one I had to live to really learn. After that, my old patters faded away and slowly but surely I developed a healthy relationship with food. I’ve been so grateful for that change, it’s one I NEVER thought I’d experience. Now, I feel like with this pregnancy, Zoloft and weight gain, all that I’ve achieved is slipping away.

I feel so stuck between two bad situations. On the one hand I feel like I need my Zoloft to manage my anxiety and be happy. On the other I feel like it causes weight gain which causes me extreme anxiety. So either way I’m dealing with deep seated issues, but which is the lesser evil?

I talked to a good friend about this. She absolutely thinks I need to stay on the Zoloft. She thinks that the Zoloft does something to my brain chemistry that needs to be done. I believe that. There were times I know I couldn’t have crawled out of depression without the help of SSRI’s. I do believe in what they do. She also reminded me of how miserable I was before the Zoloft. I’d like to tell myself that now that I’m in my 2nd trimester, all the big tests are done, I can feel the baby kick to reassure me that she’s okay, that much of my anxiety would not return. But the reality is, that probably isn’t true. So I guess Zoloft has the “it does something that just plain cognitive behavioral therapy and other stress relief techniques can’t do” thing on it’s side. As for the weight gain, some people gain a lot of weight. And even if the Zoloft is the reason for some of it, it is just weight gain, and it can be lost later. Still, I’m so scared, no, terrified, that this weight gain, or feeling not in control of my weight gain, is going to bring up so many old issues that I hoped to never confront again… I can’t tell you how much that scares me.

So that is where I am today. I already feel so exhausted from this stuff and it’s only my first class. Man, it’s going to be a long day and a longer four months. I hope I can find a solution that I feel good about.

BUENAS NOTICIAS – Only 5 hours until my week off.

Hearing the Heartbeat

Today I had my first appointment without the sonogram. Evidently Frijolita is big enough that they can use the doppler very easily, and that is what they did. It was my first time hearing the heartbeat and it was wonderful. Unfortunately Mi.Vida couldn’t be there but I did call him and he got to hear over phone. The heartbeat was 150, which is totally normal (anything between 120 and 160 is okay) and it was nice to finally know that it was fine. I have to say, after all these weeks of waiting, hearing Frijolita’s heart wasn’t the least bit anti-climactic. It was definitely love at first sound!

As for the rest of my appointment, I brought up three major concerns:

1. The Doula program at Kaiser SF. Turns out it’s not much of a program at all, which doesn’t upset me that much, as I assumed it wouldn’t be what I needed anyway. I’ve decided I want to hire a doula to accompany me during the birth, as I’m going to try to have a natural birth. I’d love one who’s worked at Kaiser before and knows what they allow and don’t allow. My OB was kind enough to look into the doula program and talk to other people at the hospital and got me a website to start searching for my own doula, which I appreciated. Now I have to see if I can even begin to afford all of this. I really hope I can, as it’s very important to me. I know that birthing your baby can be an amazing experience and it’s one I’ve wanted for a long time. I so wish I could give birth at a birthing center with tubs and all of that, but alas, my insurance is with Kaiser and so I have to work around that. At the same time, I hope there are options for me there and I want to explore all of them.

2. My weight gain. Well I stepped on the scale today and it’s official, I gained another 9 pounds this month. I’m not as worried about it as I was before, but I’m glad I’m seeing a nutritionist and trying to get more exercise. My ob recommends I keep a food journal for a week to get a better idea of what I’m eating. I think that is a good idea, though I’m kind of loathe actually doing it. After so many years of eating issues I don’t like to go back to this way of doing things. I haven’t thought one iota about what I’ve put in my mouth for the last four years and haven’t gained a pound. Of course now I am gaining lots of pounds, and thought I know it’s healthy for me and the baby, I want to make sure it’s for the right reasons. I’m hoping that I’m gaining the bulk of my weight in the second trimester and that it will taper off some in the coming months. If not, I’ll have to step up all my efforts on the weight maintenance front.

3. Second look at the baby’s sex. I don’t remember if I mentioned it on here, but when I asked my ob to take a second look at the baby she said she would, happily, at 35 weeks. I was not very excited about that and told her so. Anyway, today she told me that she said that because she is not really trained in the discrete science of determining the gender of a baby from an ultrasound, especially when the baby is still so small. She also said she would try again next time and then continue to try, but that she really didn’t know if she’d be able to give me any more of a definitive answer than I already got (“diagnosing girls is harder than diagnosing boys”). So that is both understandable and disappointing. I feel like once again we’ve come up against a problem that few others I know of has had. Of course it’s not really a problem, and I’m not trying to make it one, but I would love to know “for sure” what we’re having.

I guess that is all I have to report for now. I’m very excited to spend the evening at home with Mi.Vida, eating dinner and watching some TV. I hope all my blogging friends are having an equally restful Thursday night.

BUENAS NOTICIAS – Mi.Vida just tried out our new juicer. We went through a huge thing of carrots and oranges and it made a super yummy, super nutricious, juice! YAY! Just one more way to get through our CSA farm box veggies and fruits!