Tag Archives: health

17 Weeks

How far along: Week 17 completed on May 1st. According to “What to Expect When You’re Expecting,” that means I am done with month 4. Month 5, here I come baby!

Weight gain: Zero! Not what I was expecting. And I’m not thrilled about this either, as the picture below may lead you to believe:

In fact, that was the mad smile of someone who was feeling completely deranged at the time (more on that shortly).

However, as the midwife said, “don’t worry, you have plenty of time.” And it’s been hitting me–pregnancy is a looooong journey. I’ve been pregnant since January, and I’m still 3 full weeks from being halfway there. And nobody who looks at me could even tell there’s a baby in there at this point. It’s a little crazy.

Clothes: I actually returned to wearing some of my skinny pants this week. My stomach has become much less sensitive, and for this I am soooo grateful. Thank you, stomach.

Purchases: No baby-related purchases! But you all know by now what is seriously right around the corner (next week!), so beware . . .

Body: Less bloating and discomfort–it’s truly fab. I can lie on my stomach at night comfortably, and I’m not constantly thinking about my belly.

On the weirder side, I am still experiencing the no-belly-in-the-morning-but-big-belly-at-night thing, which is a little strange. Even my husband gave me a look of utter confusion when one minute my stomach looked completely flat (I was lying down and tensing my abs) and the next (when I sat up and leaned over) it was a huge round globe. “What . . . what is going on there?” he asked, perplexed.

I only wish I had answers, baby. This same question plagues me daily.

I also had a really hard time during yoga on Monday–which is weird, because it wasn’t a particularly hard class compared to the past couple weeks. I have my suspicions as to why I was having difficulties: I hear there’s a hormone called ‘relaxin’ which loosens the joints during pregnancy. We were doing a lot of fast-moving stretches from side to side, up and down and all around, and I just couldn’t seem to move as fast or as comfortably as I normally do. I think that relaxin stuff has made my joints less ‘stable’ and less able to support those quick movements between stretches. I was embarrassed by my own amount of huffing and puffing.

Sleep: It’s mahvellous, dahling. I’m still falling asleep quickly, sleeping great, and (as I mentioned) able to sleep on my stomach. Though in the news this week: I managed to stay awake for an entire story of Sherlock Holmes! My husband was amazed. “Are you still awake?” he asked in wonder at the end of the story, looking at my supine (and seemingly passed out) form. “Yes!” I exclaimed, popping up from my pillow.

What can I say–the story of the hydraulics engineer who almost got murdered by an evil mechanical pressing device was riveting. So my husband decided to start the next story since I appeared to be fully awake, and guess what–I don’t remember a thing about it. Not the cast of characters, not the opening sentence, not the premise of the crime-solving-to-come–nada. Sleep hit me like a sledgehammer, so hard and fast I didn’t even feel it.

Best moment(s) of the week: Hearing that heartbeat at my appointment! For about 10 seconds the midwife couldn’t find it and the worst case scenario flashed through my brain, but it turns out that it’s because I was clenching my abs in an effort to curl my head up and watch what she was doing. “Just lie back and relax,” she said, and immediately we found it. Strong, fast, and steady.

Movement: A little, I think–when I went to bed Sunday night, I felt that feeling that some people describe as popcorn popping. But it’s not a regular occurrence . . . yet.

Food cravings/aversions: I only had fries once! It seems like I’m getting that part of my life back under control. And I also looked Thai noodles in the face and survived to tell the tale–not only survived, but enjoyed every bite (especially that nicely browned tofu). Looks like Pad Thai is back on the menu, baby. Next week maybe I’ll try to gauge my stomach’s feelings on fried eggs . . .

Symptoms: The midwife went over my blood/urine test results from last month, and apparently all is good except for the old Vitamin D. So I’ll be picking up a prescription and wolfing that stuff down asap since apparently a Vitamin D deficiency somehow increases your chances of having a C-section. As for the rest of it, I’m generally feeling great.

Now–isn’t my skin supposed to start glowing soon?? And where’s this shiny hair I keep hearing about?

Emotions: I’ve been really emotional this week, starting Sunday at church, but I chalked it up to the normal ebb and flow of the female heart. However, the past two days I have been insanely emotional and insanely sensitive. No more “normal ebb and flow” explanations even start to make sense of what I’ve been feeling.

I shall now elaborate:

After 2 1/2 years in the big city (and growing up in the city!), you’d think I’d have a thick skin by now. But after watching how people pushed ahead of a lady with the stroller to get on the Belmont bus, proceeding to occupy the seats that fold up (where she could have put her stroller) as quickly as possible, I had an internal meltdown. Which–as soon as I got home–externalized itself into a regular old cryfest. “Why are people so meeeaaaaan,” I wailed. “Nobody cares about anybody else!” At that moment, friends, I despised Chicago. Humanity depressed me. I wanted out of the whole deal, and I wanted out fast.

Then I realized that we had to take some pictures of my belly for this post. I pressed the camera into my husband’s hands and figured that after our photographic challenges of the previous week, this little session was bound to be waaaay easier. “This is going to go so fast!” I assured him with great optimism.

I was wrong.

After scrolling through about a dozen pictures, all of which featured my blurry mug looking blurrier than ever, I faced the facts: my husband was having some serious challenges focusing the camera. And these challenges didn’t seem to be going away. He practiced focusing on my hand . . .

. . . it just wasn’t happening.

I turned the camera on myself and showed him how easy it can be to focus:

Then I turned the camera on him . . .

(and you can see here that his blessed, blessed sense of humor was still going strong)

. . . and back on myself.

“See?” I said, “just press halfway down on the shutter release, hold the focus/exposure lock down with your thumb, reframe the picture, and it’s so easy!”

We now think that maybe it’s because of his glasses. He has really poor eyesight, so he can’t press his actual eye up to the viewfinder, and it’s quite likely that that’s really hurting his chances of seeing what’s going on in the little black box.

But regardless of his goodwill, it was still a painful experience for me (in which I felt like a failure as a teacher since I couldn’t figure out how to help him, a nagging autocrat, an obsessed maniac since I couldn’t just let it go and post a blurry picture, a demanding jerk of fascist proportions, and a number of other unpleasant things) and this sent me into another avalanche of emotions and tears.

Then I checked my email and broke down into tears again over a quite normal series of messages attempting to schedule a music rehearsal for Wednesday. When these plans started to shift yesterday afternoon, I had another crying breakdown at my desk at work. Which went on for about an hour.

What the heck is going on in here???? Why does everything feel like the end of the world? It’s not pretty, and if I were you . . . I’d keep my distance from the crazy crying lady with the insane smile.

Hopes and dreams: Sometimes I’ll be sitting on the couch or in bed with my husband, and suddenly I’ll think “in a few months we’ll be sitting on this same couch–but with a little baby between us.” My heart skips a beat and I get a rush of hormones/adrenaline/whoknowswhat that gives me the tinglies in my belly.

I also had a really, really sad dream Monday night that my dad died before the baby was born. I kept thinking “Dad will never get to hold his little grandbaby. We got so close . . . but now it won’t happen.” Saddest dream ever. I don’t know what it is about grandpas holding their tiny grandbabies, but it gets me like a punch in the heart.

What I miss: Being able to keep it together emotionally. I don’t remember the last time I cried so much over completely normal, daily things.

What I’m looking forward to: Finding out the gender at my next appointment, on Wednesday May 23rd.

Husband update:  I love this man.

We were walking to the El last Wednesday morning, and I was kind of dragging my feet. I just felt tired, like I didn’t have enough energy–emotional or physical–to face the day. “Well,” he said, “you know you’re burning more calories resting than a guy burns working out at the gym. Making that baby is taking a lot of energy.” He had read this in “What to Expect When You’re Expecting” the previous evening. I coulda kissed him right there.

And he’s making such an effort with this photography thing–resulting (by the end of our little session) in a perfectly focused picture of my face!!

Great job, baby. And thanks for loving this nagging autocrat despite my nagging autocratic ways (at least when it comes to photography).

For next week, I’m hoping for normal emotional reactions to normal daily events. We’ll see . . .

Have a great weekend, friends!

16 Weeks

How far along: Week 16 completed 4/24/2012

Weight gain: Still a big ??, but I’m seeing the midwife group at Swedish for my second appointment tomorrow. I’ll update you all next week on the exact scale reading. I have to admit I’m very curious–between the morning veggie juice (healthy), the lunchtime French fries loaded with mayo (not so healthy), the nausea, the yoga, and the recent return of popcorn, I have no concept of how many calories I’ve been consuming or burning each day.

Clothes: With my maternity jeans in hand for bloated days and my normal jeans in hand for the others, I’m pretty set. I also recently rediscovered a pair of ultra-soft, stretchy black . . .well, I don’t exactly know what they are. They have pockets like jeans, they’re slim fitting like leggings, but they’re definitely not cinched to the body either like actual leggings. They’re pretty much the perfect pant right now. I found them on a Plato’s Closet trip years ago and am so glad they’ve resurfaced. They had only one problem: the metal button to close the front was way too heavy for the soft fabric, and pulled at it awkwardly. So I cut off the button and sewed them closed, since they’re stretchy enough to just pull on with no fastening or unfastening. I would like to live in these pants, please.

Purchases: A friend of mine ended up with a duplicate baby swing from a consignment sale for dang cheap that I’ll be retrieving at some point for a mere $18 (yipee!). Other than that, no purchases–but I started a registry at Target for my own organizational purposes and talked to my sister Heidi for over an hour to get all the details on what brand of bottles, pacifiers, and carseats is best. I knew there was a reason I let her go first with this baby thing–it’s saving me tons of time and research.

Currently the registry is a hot mess, with at least 3 different high chairs in there and multiple strollers–I need to make some decisions. Keep the good stuff, cut the fat, etc. And dangit if I know how I’m going to do that. So many of these baby objects are just so . . . mysterious.

Oh, and I’ve put together a post about my maternity jeans shopping trip that I’ll share with you guys on Monday.

Body: Very little nausea! (can I get a nice loud “hoobedy-habbidy!” from all y’all out there?) I had one 15-minute episode of dry-heaving into the trash can at work, but I think it may have been caused by the war that some delicious Chinese food had been waging with my intestines since the previous night.

That Chinese food, courtesy of our friends Julie and Zane and a fun trip to Chinatown, was amazing. And spicy. And despite the 15 minutes of trash-can-hugging misery, I’d eat it again. Right now. I have two words for you: Tony’s Chicken. And two more words: spicy cabbage. I die.

A second episode of nausea happened one day on my train ride home, and I focused all my energy on not hurling on my fellow El passengers. I succeeded. I made sure to inform them that they can all send me thank you cards at either my home or work address. Target giftcards = optional.

That’s about it on the sickness front! Woohoo!

Sleep: Still great! This week, for some odd reason, though all the pregnancy books and websites tell me I’m supposed to be peeing less frequently, I’ve had the opposite experience. I’ve been waking up 2-3 times per night to pee–ridiculous! Thankfully I just go right back to sleep, so it’s not really too bad.

My dreams have mostly centered on recording with my band (singing and realizing I sounded like a muppet; not having the necessary equipment; forgetting about the booked studio time until it was too late; being lost on the South side of a city that had a marvellous ocean-front boardwalk, and knowing I could never get to the studio on time). I asked myself why I haven’t been dreaming baby dreams more often, and then finally, one wonderful night, I had a beautiful baby dream. I had given birth to a little pudgy baby girl with the thickest, softest dark brown baby hair imaginable. She had a squishy face with the roundest cheeks, and blue eyes the color of Heidi’s. When I woke up I was in love. I want no other baby. Really guys–this is the one I want.

I’m holding on to some hope that it was a prophetic dream, and that this is indeed the exact baby that’s being knitted together right now inside me. We’ll see . . .

Best moment(s) of the week: When my husband said, “wow, I really feel like I have you back.”

Apparently the real Jenna went missing for a few weeks there and a really pathetic girl took her place who cried a lot and just wanted to sleep and throw up all the time and then sleep some more. My husband loved this girl and did his best to accomodate her . . . but let’s just say that it wasn’t a boatload of fun times, laughs and high-energy cavorting.

Thankfully, he reports, his wife has now returned with her usual silly, obnoxiously bouncy, mischievous energy. And there was much rejoicing in the city.

Movement: I’ve been aggressively probing for it (read: stuffing my fingers into the soft flesh of my lower stomach as hard as I possibly can and shouting “HELLO IN THERE!?!?” at the top of my lungs) ever since thinking we felt some tap-taps in Week 15, but . . . nada.

And just kidding on the shouting part. Though sources tell me that the Little Wa-Wa is supposed to start hearing things soon.

Food cravings/aversions: Good news on this front–I love popcorn again! One day I just knew I wanted it. I popped it on the stove with a hefty dose of canola oil. And I ate it. It was amazing. “I AM Jenna! I really am!” I cried to myself in happiness. Yes, this was serious proof that I am not a completely different person.

I also reduced my French fry intake from the 4 occurences in Week 15 to just 2. Are you proud??

Still can’t quite look Thai noodles straight in the eye, but I’m starting to have hope.

Symptoms: At the time, just bloating, getting up to pee lots in the night, and a little queasiness from time to time.

Emotions: Pretty happy and peaceful! I don’t think I cried about anything baby-related or out-of-character this week.

Hopes and dreams: I want that blue-eyed baby girl of my dreams. And I want her bad.

What I miss: Wearing cinched belts. They can really bring an outfit together, man.

What I’m looking forward to: At the risk of being totally repetitive, having a baby belly. It’s bound to happen soon. And I can’t wait to hear the beartbeat again at tomorrow’s appointment!

Husband update:  My poor husband–it took 4 or 5 spurts of photos to get the shots in this post. He would snap away, I would review what he had done, and as I scanned his efforts I would say things like “oooh–blurry. Blurry. Blurry. Make sure to press down halfway on the shutter release button and don’t let go until the picture is snapped. That one . . . well you can see here that it has a lot of wasted space on top–think about composition.” After round 4, it was just more “blurry, composition, blurry, too dark.” Poor chap! I was feeling pretty guilty at this point for even making him endure these weekly pictures. Make that really guilty.

I tried to instruct him to fill the frame with my body like this:

But he was having trouble seeing–really seeing–what was in the viewfinder. He felt like the image he saw in the viewfinder didn’t translate to what the picture looked like in the end. I was kind of at a loss as far as how to nudge him in the right direction. “Well . . . just try to look carefully?” I suggested rather unhelpfully. “Just like . . . you know . . . look at what’s there, what’s at the edges, what’s in the middle . . . you know, look at what you’re seeing.” I didn’t know how else to explain it, and I think I just ended up sounding redundant and potentially facetious.

I guess one of the first steps in photography is just learning how to look. It sounds basic–but it’s an acquired skill. Poor little dahlin’–and thank heavens for his sense of humor.

By the end I was feeling guiltier than ever, my babycakes was feeling stressed, and I realized what an obnoxiously picky customer I am when it comes to pictures. BUT! I settled for what we had in the end (with hopes for improvement as time goes on), we worked through our mutual distress (mine for putting him under pressure, his for not ‘getting it’), my husband acknowledged he wants to continue to learn since it’s so important to me (not because he has a natural desire or inclination), I recognized that I need to learn how to communicate and teach him without being an annoying know-it-all, and embraces were given all around.

Ah, marriage. It’s a wonderful, beautiful thing, and it involves a lot of talking about your emotions. A lot of listening. A lot of apologizing. A lot of hugging. And what’s not to love about that?

And here’s a kinda cool blurry shot . . .

. . . followed by an in-focus shot when I was teaching him how to adjust shutter speed to beat the blur:

Good job, babycakes. You’re a photographic champeen in my book (kinda like a champion but more cute and lovable).

And back by popular demand, here’s the Babydaddy himself in his update shot:

No sympathetic baby bump there–but I’m totally cool with that.

I like your man-abs, you ridiculously hot thang.

I’m so excited about my appointment tomorrow–hoping to hear that steady, strong little heartbeat . . .