I hit 10 weeks in my pregnancy this week. Not too far along, but nearing the end of the first trimester. The nausea is easing, although it is still very present. I am now waking up two to three times a night for bathroom runs, which is seriously putting a hitch in my sleep cycle, but it is becoming a common part of life.
Last night at church, a group of ladies pointed out that they can now see my baby bump. This made me laugh because the bump is getting ridiculously noticeable. I've known women who didn't 'look' pregnant until several months into their pregnancy. I'm not one of those woman. We had a candle lit the other night, and I just about freaked out when I saw my shadow on the wall. I can't even recognize it anymore.
Honestly, this is all that has been gong on in my life the past few weeks. Pregnancy seems to take over pretty much everything. I can't do much besides being pregnant because I never feel good. So I'm basically sitting around while God is growing a baby inside of me. It is busy work. I may not look busy when I'm laying around all day moaning over my nausea, but believe me, I'm busy.
Thursday, March 25, 2010
Thursday, March 18, 2010
Checking the Vital Signs
When I was about 10 years old, I came down with a case of the flu. I was out of school for several days, but it was nothing out of the ordinary. Unfortunately, my dad is a chronic worrier, so every time I got sick with anything was a time to panic.
I'll never forget what happened one of the nights I was sick during this spell. I was laying on the couch sleeping when suddenly the feeling of someone else being present woke me up. As my eyes opened, I saw Dad leaning over my chest checking to see if I was breathing. I whispered, "Dad, what are you doing?", and he jumped about a mile high. He had been so busy concentrating on my vital signs, he was more than I little shocked to find me awake.
Over the years, this story has provided a lot of laughs for my family. It is the perfect example of the neurosis so pervasive on my dad's side of the family, a neurosis I've inherited in fine form. But Monday, the story became a little more than a joke to me. Monday was our first ultra sound, and for the first time, I saw our baby's heart beating. It was pounding away at an astonishing 173 beats a minute. The pictures we brought home are fairly unimpressive. He or she is currently a blob with other smaller blods connected to it that will one day be arms and legs. But the image of the heart beating, now that was impressive.
As an added not of interest, when I told my dad that the heart is beating at 173 beats a minute, he immediately panicked and asked if that is normal and okay. He still hasn't lost his touch.
I'll never forget what happened one of the nights I was sick during this spell. I was laying on the couch sleeping when suddenly the feeling of someone else being present woke me up. As my eyes opened, I saw Dad leaning over my chest checking to see if I was breathing. I whispered, "Dad, what are you doing?", and he jumped about a mile high. He had been so busy concentrating on my vital signs, he was more than I little shocked to find me awake.
Over the years, this story has provided a lot of laughs for my family. It is the perfect example of the neurosis so pervasive on my dad's side of the family, a neurosis I've inherited in fine form. But Monday, the story became a little more than a joke to me. Monday was our first ultra sound, and for the first time, I saw our baby's heart beating. It was pounding away at an astonishing 173 beats a minute. The pictures we brought home are fairly unimpressive. He or she is currently a blob with other smaller blods connected to it that will one day be arms and legs. But the image of the heart beating, now that was impressive.
As an added not of interest, when I told my dad that the heart is beating at 173 beats a minute, he immediately panicked and asked if that is normal and okay. He still hasn't lost his touch.
Wednesday, March 10, 2010
What has really been going on the past month
On Valentine's Day, this happened:
In the following week, I was an emotional wreck, so happy to be pregnant but neurotically nervous about everything. BJ was also very happy. But then, he realized that he would need to pay for the child's college tuition, which sent him into a rash of worrying.
The next week, we both settled down a bit, getting a little more used to the idea of becoming parents. At this points, bets started about the gender of the baby. My family was the only people who knew at this point, so it went something like this: I think its a boy, BJ thinks its a girl, Mom agrees with me that it is a boy, Dad is waiting to make a call until he can think of a way to word it so that he will be right either way, and Bro thinks it is left-handed. Don't ask.
The next week was the week BJ's parents were coming down, so we were (finally) going to get to tell them. We bought the following bibs to break the good news:
To clarify, the bib on the left says, "Don't look at me, that smell is coming from grandpa!", and the bib on the right says, "What happens at grandma's stays at grandma's!"
Once we broke the news to BJ's family, I got to tell my friends, and it was absolutely wonderful! They all squealed exactly like I was hoping they would. I have the best girlfriends ever!
And as for this week, the nausea has set in, and it has set in good. All food that is not totally bland sounds disgusting. Cheese is the worst. Especially melty cheese. There is a whole other slew of symptoms going on, but I'll spare you the details.
So there is a whirl-wind tour of life over the past month. I don't know what else to say except that we're happy.
In the following week, I was an emotional wreck, so happy to be pregnant but neurotically nervous about everything. BJ was also very happy. But then, he realized that he would need to pay for the child's college tuition, which sent him into a rash of worrying.
The next week, we both settled down a bit, getting a little more used to the idea of becoming parents. At this points, bets started about the gender of the baby. My family was the only people who knew at this point, so it went something like this: I think its a boy, BJ thinks its a girl, Mom agrees with me that it is a boy, Dad is waiting to make a call until he can think of a way to word it so that he will be right either way, and Bro thinks it is left-handed. Don't ask.
The next week was the week BJ's parents were coming down, so we were (finally) going to get to tell them. We bought the following bibs to break the good news:
To clarify, the bib on the left says, "Don't look at me, that smell is coming from grandpa!", and the bib on the right says, "What happens at grandma's stays at grandma's!"
Once we broke the news to BJ's family, I got to tell my friends, and it was absolutely wonderful! They all squealed exactly like I was hoping they would. I have the best girlfriends ever!
And as for this week, the nausea has set in, and it has set in good. All food that is not totally bland sounds disgusting. Cheese is the worst. Especially melty cheese. There is a whole other slew of symptoms going on, but I'll spare you the details.
So there is a whirl-wind tour of life over the past month. I don't know what else to say except that we're happy.
Monday, March 08, 2010
I won.
A few weeks ago, you might remember that I got slaughtered in a contest with my brother to predict Oscar nominations. I would just like to announce that in last night's competition to predict the winners, I came back with a bang. I beat him by five! And I feel it is only fair to rub it in. Trust me, he did it to me. So, ha, Bro! You lost!
That felt good.
That felt good.
Wednesday, March 03, 2010
Confessions of my Weirdness
I have an obsessive personality. When something clicks, I can't stop doing it. For example, if an art project clicks, I'll sit at my desk for hours on end for days on end working on whatever it is I'm doing. Or last summer, I got on a hot tea kick, so I drank four to five cups of hot tea a day. During December of last year, I obsessively did crossword puzzles - several a day, actually.
My current obsession is pretty weird. BJ and I love Netflix, and since we don't have TV, we use the 'Watch Instantly' section of our Netflix pretty regularly. Well, last month, I discover that Netflix had posted all ten seasons of Murder, She Wrote to their 'Watch Instantly' selection. Since then, I have obsessively watched Murder, She Wrote. I watch it when I'm folding laundry, when I'm planning menus and grocery lists for the week, when I'm lying around being lazy. I watch it all the time. In fact, while at work, I can't wait to get home so that I can settle down to a nice episode of the always clever Mrs. Fletcher solving a mystery involving several passionate and angry people in large shoulder pads circu 1985. That's my idea of a good evening.
Not that this is important or even interesting. I just thought I'd put it out there. I find that my oddities are less shameful when they're brought out into the light.
My current obsession is pretty weird. BJ and I love Netflix, and since we don't have TV, we use the 'Watch Instantly' section of our Netflix pretty regularly. Well, last month, I discover that Netflix had posted all ten seasons of Murder, She Wrote to their 'Watch Instantly' selection. Since then, I have obsessively watched Murder, She Wrote. I watch it when I'm folding laundry, when I'm planning menus and grocery lists for the week, when I'm lying around being lazy. I watch it all the time. In fact, while at work, I can't wait to get home so that I can settle down to a nice episode of the always clever Mrs. Fletcher solving a mystery involving several passionate and angry people in large shoulder pads circu 1985. That's my idea of a good evening.
Not that this is important or even interesting. I just thought I'd put it out there. I find that my oddities are less shameful when they're brought out into the light.
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