Just keep swimming!

I've definitely started detecting movement from Blueberry. It's very weird. At first it was difficult to tell if it was movement or just gas, since it mostly just felt like a little pressure.

After seeing the ultrasound and seeing Blueberry moving around, though, it made it easier to understand that I was feeling her moving around in me, like he's swimming back and forth. It must be kind of like a fish, trapped in a fish bowl. 

Except that the fish bowl is IN MY STOMACH!!

So bizarre. And like my friend Nat said, just like the movie 'Alien'. There is a creature living in my stomach! Swimming around, sucking its thumb. And eating leftover ice cream.

Now it makes me wonder what effect my actions have on him as she's living in there. Like, the other night, I did a quick, sudden switch from my left side to my right side while I was in bed and chuckled, wondering if Blueberry was inside going, 'Whoa! Slow down there, lady!' Just prepping early to combat you from getting Daddy's motion sickness tendencies, Blueberry.

In any case, I hope that Blueberry is enjoying the ride -- I'll try to make it fun!

Nature vs. Nurture

I've always been pretty fascinated by nature vs. nurture. What parts of us were predicted the second the sperm hit the egg, and which parts are a result of our socialization? I don't think we'll ever really come to full answers on many of these questions, because of course both things are a factor.

But I had to laugh when our baby was (seemingly) happily sucking its thumb in utero on Thursday at our 'big' ultrasound. See it there? Cute, huh? Sucking away.

Why did I find this so funny? Because nature scored a point at that moment. Which leads me to another confession: I sucked my thumb for a long time. A LOOOONNNGGGG time. I sucked my thumb until I was in 2nd grade. Yes, that means that I was seven years old or something like that before I stopped.

Mom & Dad tried really hard to get me to stop. REALLY hard. But I was onto them. I'd wake up from the taste of that yucky crap they snuck into my room to plaster on my thumb, make a disgusted noise, and promptly march myself to the bathroom to wash it off and get back in bed to contentedly suck my thumb. And rub the corner of my pillow. I don't know how many pillows they must have had to buy for me in my younger years from rubbing through the covers. (Not of the pillow cases, but of the pillows themselves.) And really, it's a miracle that I never required orthodontic care. I don't know how I pulled that one off.


Observe -- thumb in mouth, other hand rubbing pillow. (I had to take a picture of a picture, so it didn't come out all that clear, but I think you get the idea.)

So, of course, since karma comes around and kids pay us back for what we did as kids, I thought it was hilarious that our kid is already getting me back for all that thumb-sucking-stopping rebellion -- before it's even become part of the world!

Joke's on me.

The ultrasound in general was pretty cool, though. At first, Blueberry was just chillin' out, causing frustration for blocking a view that the ultrasound intern needed. Then, Blueberry caught on that someone was playing with it, poking around, and started going crazy playing back. That baby was moving all over the place!

It's pretty amazing what technology can do these days, though. We saw the spine (wow!), heart, two legs, two arms, head, brain, belly, and all kinds of things that I didn't even know what they were. The ultrasound tech was remarking at 'gorgeous' body parts I've never heard of but was glad to hear that they're gorgeous. Cuz who doesn't want a gorgeous right ventricular septum (or whatever) for their kids?! I mean, really??

It was a bit long, though, I must admit. Particularly since we first had an intern and then the actual tech. Everything was therefore measured twice, and the focus was more on the lesson for the intern and less on delighting us with our baby's body parts -- we were more like accessories for their process. 

But pretty cool nonetheless. 

I went home and sucked my thumb.

Reverse Belly Envy

I never thought I'd find myself in this position, wishing that my belly was bigger. I've spent my whole life doing the opposite: eying with envy those with flat stomachs. 

Yes, yes, I've come to appreciate and love being curvy. But there's still always been something about the flat stomach that holds an allure for me. Wouldn't it be nice to feel comfortable baring my midriff for others to admire?

As long as I've already been confessing my quirks on here (i.e. my crazy even numbers thing, which by the way, has now been exacerbated by the fact that we found a new 2br apartment -- yay -- and the address is 561, with an apartment number 107 -- argh -- but I digress), I figure I may as well go far out and share one of my deepest irrationalities.

When I was a kid (not sure how old -- maybe around 10-12), I observed that I had this belly and others didn't. You see, my belly has always been such that it's a little round pot that sticks out the front. Okay, fine, two round hills with a valley in between and a lake in the valley (my belly button). As such, I was *absolutely* convinced that I was carrying my twin in my belly and that someday, I would all of a sudden give birth to it, and no one would believe that I hadn't had sex.

This was a very big worry to me back then. I'm sure you can see why. (Ha -- hey, Tara -- maybe I shouldn't be making fun of your hypochondria so much!!)

So you can see why it feels strange to me now to be wondering, "Hey, belly! When are you going to pop already and make it obvious what's going on?!"

When I tell people that I'm about halfway through my pregnancy these days, they look at me in disbelief and make comments about how I'm not showing and they can't believe I'm that far along.


The irony is that I can't even appreciate the fact that, for once, people are telling me that I'm small! I should be relishing this!!


But instead, I wander around looking at all the other pregnant women, longing for their cute bellies sticking out adorably in front of them, announcing to all what's going on. 


It's true that it is starting to pop this week, so I shouldn't have much more to go for my desire to come true. And it's also true that in a month or so, I'll be wishing that it would slow down already. Because my other irrational fear is that, because it (feels like) it's been slow in coming, it will suddenly start and not stop growing until it's the biggest pregnancy belly ever! Even bigger than the woman who had the eight kids!!

Maybe not quite that bad, but you get my drift ... 


Perhaps this is a good time to stop and work on living in the moment and appreciating the present. 


Or not. 

Bring on the belly!!

Discipline

Discipline and routine are not my strengths. I should be learning from Mo, for whom they are uber-strengths (perhaps to a fault). But apparently I'm not.

I like living freely, from moment to moment.

The problem is that I do better with greater structure around me. Yet I can't seem to bring myself to create it.

Hence, I haven't been maintaining a regular exercise routine. I promised myself that I would throughout the pregnancy, since well, for one, it's just sensible in life in general. But I also hear so much about how pilates and yoga help you in labor, staying fit helps you lose the weight afterward and promotes a more fit baby (and the smaller baby I'm pushing out, the better!), etc. So I know it's good for me, and I know I feel good when I do it, but here I am, sitting on the couch.

It doesn't help that I've recently allowed myself to get addicted to watching 'The Office' on Watch Instantly on Netflix. This is definitely NOT helping my discipline. (Though one could argue that I'm extremely disciplined in watching endless episodes...) I was in avoidance of the fact that it's my escape from my own office hell, but Mo finally called me on it. Which really only has given me further fuel that I need to watch in order to make it through the next 75 days. (Yes, I actually counted the number of days left to endure. It will actually be less than that, since I'll be taking days off for Christmas and a vacation. Hooray! Though I have to say that it seems like a large number at this point. I know, I know -- it will go quickly. Blah, blah, blah.)

It's not to say that I've been doing nothing. Because I have. But it's been rather haphazard.

I can't say that my eating habits have been exactly exemplary either. But again, not horrible.

There's just so much I could be doing to create systems, routines, discipline for myself. I'd love to incorporate regular meditation as well, for my own well-being to help with my crazy brain, and again to help ease the labor process.

But again, haphazard application thus far.

Breathe, patience. As always, trying to do too much at once. It just feels like more pressure now that I know that I'm supposed to be eating, exercising, feeling relaxed, etc. for an additional person! So then I already feel like a horrible mom for maintaining my regular lack of routines. But then, I think, I won't be able to sit myself down on the couch and watch episode after episode of 'The Office' in 5.5 months, so shouldn't I be able to now??



Yes, I think I should. But I guess it doesn't have to be one or the other.

Hello, strange body.

Perhaps something is happening after all. Although I don't feel like I'm showing (Mo disagrees still), other things are, admittedly, happening.

For example, I almost passed out on BART for the second time yesterday. Apparently my blood pressure is especially high at this stage of pregnancy, or something like this. I've learned not to even bother wearing my coat or sweater on BART if I'm wearing one that day. By the time I walk the four WHOLE blocks to the BART Station and get on, I'm overheated already and then get on the stuffy train and stand for the WHOLE 15-minute ride into San Francisco. 

And twice, it hasn't turned out so well. It's interesting to me how no one seems to care. I mean, it's not like I'm having a heart attack or some other dramatic event, but I *know* that a couple people have noticed as I strip layers, squat with my head between my legs, moving up and down trying to not feel like I'm a car about to start steaming out the hood and putter out. But nothing. No offers of seats, no inquiries as to my well-being -- just a bunch of strangers continuing to try to pretend that we're not in the same place at the same time. My Midwesternness gets in the way of me actually bothering someone to request their seat. They did, after all, get there first.

I just don't feel that I can yet pull the pregnant card since it's not so obvious -- yeah, whatever, lady; nice try -- I'm going nowhere from this seat!! I'm looking forward to that perk -- just walking onto BART with my belly proudly displayed, daring anyone to not offer me a seat! Ha!

And then there's the shortness of breath. I'll be the first to admit that I wasn't in as good of shape as I would have liked going into the pregnancy. So it's a bit difficult to tell what's out-of-shapedness and what's the growing number of pints (liters? quarts?) of blood flowing through my system. It was utterly humiliating a few weeks ago when I went hiking with Tara, with whom I'm usually pretty on par for hiking excursions, despite the obvious differences in our body structures (for those who know her). Mind you, we DID accidentally choose a trail that was nothing but straight up and up and up. But still, I'd never had to stop that often to catch my breath!

Yeah, that's pretty much how I felt -- maybe a walking stick would have helped. Afterward, we went to get our usual nachos and beer (well, sans the beer), and as we were walking back to the car, Tara noticed that I was getting a little out of breath going up a slight incline, which she felt confirmed that it was about the extra blood and that I wasn't THAT out of shape. Yes, yes indeed. I'm SURE that's all it is. Uh-huh.

There's also the newfound difficulty sleeping. Again, it's tough to tell if this is actually the pregnancy or if it's just the stress from my job (since I do generally wake up ranting at my boss, which leads to not being able to get back to sleep). This is all new for me in the last few months. Though I'm a fairly light sleeper, I generally don't have any trouble sleeping through the night (apart from the street noise outside our bedroom window), so this is not a welcome addition. Especially since I know that it's going to be a mainstay once Blueberry joins us in the world, so I'd like to be able to bank up now!

Becoming Real

Slowly but surely, this whole thing is becoming more real. We've already started accumulating baby stuff -- a friend who has a three-year-old passed on her Brest Friend and a Pack-n-Play. We put in an application for a 2-bedroom apartment. You know, it's posted on Facebook and stuff, so certainly, that makes it real!

The most fun, however, is watching it slowly sink in with Mo. He was excited all along, but now he's prone to random bursts of, 'There's a baby in there!! Aahh!! It's so exciting!!' He talks to Blueberry more now, saying that we love him/her and that we are going to have so much fun, telling him/her to have a good day with its mom -- cute little talks. 



He's also all excited about reading child development books. (Surprised, anyone?) He's already concerned about how to discipline and set boundaries and all those good things. If he had time, he'd be at the community college, taking a class. 

All in time, all in time. In the meantime, I'm enjoying his enthusiasm.

Oh! And there's an update to the baby:pregnancy score. My friend Bridget had a baby girl on Friday morning, their second! Hooray! And I found out another high school friend is pregnant -- 3-4 weeks ahead of me -- so that brings the tally to 5:10 (5 recently born, 10 pregnant). Seriously, I think I'm going to have to open a day care for people born within this year.