In Utero Halloween

So Baby and I survived his/her first hurricane together! I wish I could say “gracefully” but that might be a lie, or at least a slight stretching of the truth. When the power goes out, I partially lose my mind. I don’t know what it is – I get anxious immediately, I feel depressed and I just want to crawl out of my skin. Thankfully, Gram-Gram and Button (my parents next door) have a generator and their entire first floor was flooded with light, and even television, for the first night. Refuge! I slept there and survived. As of last night, around 6 pm, all of our power (and cable! and internet!) has been restored. I have been thanking the Storm Gods (and LIPA our electric company, of course)! Seriously, we are very lucky and I am extremely grateful – thousands of people have been left with much larger, more serious problems, and my thoughts are with them.

And…today marks Baby’s first in-utero Halloween and 27 weeks. I’m going as a sane pregnant lady, which is different for me. I am going to try to be calm and rational today for the first time in awhile. We’ll see if I can pull that off ;) No promises.

Got another baby-related bill in the mail today – a $375 deductible for a level 2 sonogram. I needed to have that full anatomy scan done because my twin sister’s second son, Adam – my godson, was born with a cleft lip and palate. Because it might be genetic, they wanted to screen my baby for which I was grateful. Good news, no cleft! Bad news, $375 deductible. I’m almost up to my $1000 limit – I will hit that around December 31^st, with my luck, just in time for it to re-set for my delivery! I have already explained to F that it is going to cost me $1000 to deliver at the hospital and he said he would “split it with me” but I haven’t yet asked him for any other money. It’s sort of awkward, right? A conversation I never dreamed of having as a little girl: “So, I have spent a lot of money on the baby even though I haven’t had it yet. Deductibles, co-pays, vitamins, etc…Do you think you can contribute?” See? There is no good way of saying that. I can’t be upset with him if I don’t tell him – I think he honestly doesn’t realize how much this pregnancy has affected my life and my bank account already! Between getting the house ready, buying different clothes and food for me, medical costs, etc… it really has made an impact. But it’s just not an easy conversation to bring up, especially when we have been seeing each other about once a week. At the most. So…maybe next week. Maybe the third trimester will come with some courage. As for today, back to work and then some trick-or-treating with my nephews: two ninjas and a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle (yes, they are back!).

91 days to go!!!

Pregnancy Symptoms and Side Effects (Not for the faint of heart)

(Due to the hurricane we had on LI, I did not have power to my laptop and did not write my regular entry. However, in it’s place, I handwrote a list of all of the pregnancy symptoms and side effects that I have experienced thus far. WARNING: If you do not want the truth, do not continue reading. It’s not pretty.)

·         A constant feeling of “seasickness” until the 12 week mark

·         Feeling like I wanted to crawl out of my skin every morning until the 12 week mark

·         Constant peeing. When I say "constant," I mean constant. The minute you finish going, you are thinking about how long you can possibly hold it until you go again. Because you just went.

·         A UTI at about 8 weeks. That was just cruel.

·         Extra and random vaginal discharge

·         Stuffed nose – constantly

·         My nipple bleeding – this only happened once, when I got out of the shower. But once is enough in my lifetime.

·         Enough gas to run a locomotive. Seriously. 24/7.

·         Mysterious red spots on my body. For me, on my upper chest and my face.

·         Itchy boobs. Like, on fire itchy. So itchy I could cry. Maybe I have.

·         “Heartburn” – this really means you will regurgitate whatever you ate, into your mouth, at least 4 times a night

·         Random, internal steel-toe kicks to the vagina. At least that is what it feels like.

·         Bloating. Every time I eat and every night. Without fail. It is extremely uncomfortable.

·         Lower back pain – especially when I try to…well, move.

·         More hair. Everywhere. (Except my legs. That hair is growing in slower. Go figure.)

·         HUGE boobs. I mean, like, grandma-huge. Beyond “Oh sweet, my boobs are looking good” huge. Gross-huge.

·         Insomnia – this lasted from about 12 weeks through 20 weeks for me. It’s torture. I decided that if I were ever in charge of a group of POWs, I would give them a UTI and insomnia. They’d talk immediately.

·         “Outie” bellybutton.

·         Dry skin

·         Going to the bathroom (yes, the bathroom-bathroom) six times in one day and then not going for the next six days. This pattern changes and reverses whenever the hell it feels like it.

·         Braxton Hicks contractions – not painful, but just annoying enough to remind you that your body has been taken over by someone else.

·         Clumsiness – I drop things all of the time! I can’t explain this one!

·         Dumbness – not kidding. I forget where stores are when I am actively driving to them. I attempted to remove nail polish with Scope mouthwash (the bottles do look a bit similar).

(Mind you, this is not even including your actual, physical expansion – the growth of your belly and the increase in your weight. Those aren’t “side effects” to me – they ARE pregnancy. These are just all of the added bonuses. Now do you understand why I want to punch the women who say, “You don’t love it?! I just loved being pregnant!” Maybe they need to have their brains checked.)

Hurricane Sandy!

Baby’s first hurricane is officially in progress – I am staring out my front window (which faces the beach) as I type this. Thankfully, I am elevated over bluffs and the boardwalk otherwise it would be scarier than it sounds. The winds are crazy but I still have power (pleasepleaseplease stay on, power!!) and I am happy to be trapped inside with just Baby and me! I wish there was something baby-related I could do, but I haven’t had a baby shower yet so there are no clothes to wash and fold, nothing to put together and nothing to organize. Boo. I know when the time comes to do all of that, I probably won’t want to, but today I would love to. Oh irony.

Instead, I am working. As much and as quickly as possible in case I lose power. I work for a mid-size law firm but work from home full time as the office is in NYC, a good two-hour commute for me. I have been with them for over a year now and it’s good work. I get the perk of staying home, which gives me flexibility, but I still work about 50 hours a week (closer to 60 pre-pregnancy, closer to 35 in the first trimester!). I will likely take a few solid weeks off after I have the baby but then try to work my way back up to as many hours as possible, as quickly as possible. That’s the plan anyway but you know what they say about plans…

So I told you about the conversation with my sister’s friend who cried over my baby gender issues. It apparently bothered me enough that it is all I think about when I go to bed at night and all I dream about when I finally fall asleep. I woke up wondering if maybe I should ask the doctor the gender at my next appointment. I still wouldn’t want to tell anyone because I want that climax, that surprise, the day of.  But what if I do need some adjustment time? Honestly, my biggest fear is that he says, “It’s a boy” and then I don’t even have the hope left. Not even the chance. If it were a girl, I would be happy to know early of course. But I’m not sure if knowing earlier that it’s a boy would help me or not. Sigh. Someone tell me what to do.

No texts or calls from F today. He must still be pissed with my inadequate responses from yesterday. This partially upsets me (so don’t think I am cold-hearted and unemotional) but it also exhausts me. I feel like there’s always something and I am at the point in my life where I just want things to be easy around me. That’s all.

Wish Baby and I luck with Hurricane Sandy – pray our power stays on and I don’t eat enough for another ten-pound weight gain at my next appointment.

93 days to go!!!

Sunday Family Dinner

Sunday. Family Dinner Day. A new tradition I began when I got laid off from my last teaching job. I was unemployed all summer (not a big deal to a teacher) and promised that if I didn’t have a teaching job lined up by August, I would learn to cook. This doesn’t sound that impressive, but I couldn’t even boil water at that point. Literally. Cereal was challenging. And…no job = master chef. I began cooking Italian dinners every Sunday for our family. Not because we’re Italian (we’re not) but because “sauce” was one of the first things my mom taught me to make and it went with everything! I have since expanded and we occasionally drift from the Italian Sunday dinner, but almost every single Sunday since then, I shop and cook, my mother hosts, and about 15-25 people sit down for a meal at around 4 p.m. Love it. I look forward to it every week. (I used to really enjoy the wine part of it. Now, I create some sort of sherbet punch or sparkly something-or-other to make myself feel better. How many more days left?!)

Today, Family Dinner Day has to be combined with Hurricane Preparedness Day. We are expecting a rather disturbing storm on Long Island beginning tonight, I believe. (Oh yes, I am from Long Island. New York. Don't be jealous). My poor father is running around tying everything down at his house and at mine. (Lucky him – your pregnant, single daughter moves in next door to you). The electric company left a voicemail yesterday telling me to be prepared for 5 – 7 days of outages. I hope they are kidding. Surely they need to restore pregnant women’s DVRs first, right?! I hate when the power goes out. It depresses me. But my parents have a generator hooked up to their electric circuit and so it will likely be like Grand Central over there. Fine by me and Juliette. (Or, of course, my unnamed yet loved son).

Quick update on the F front: we haven’t spoken in a few days. My panties are all in a knot, I suppose, but I am not sure yet if I have any ground to stand on or if it’s just hormones, so I’m letting things be for a bit. I’ll update you during the week (I can type in a power outage, thankfully!) He texted me this morning asking if I was “set” for the storm and when I said “I suppose so” he seemed agitated. He wanted reassurance that I was “in good hands” so that he didn’t “have to worry about me and the baby.” (But apparently he didn't want to actually come here and see for himself. Or help with anything.) This is definitely a conversation that he will refer back to in our next disagreement. Sigh. I’m keeping that in mind as I text my responses. You cannot win an argument with this attorney.

Off to buy 7 pizza doughs at the pizzeria. Already bought the ingredients for a variety of pizzas today – football games and hurricanes call for a less formal dinner, apparently. Fine by me! 

94 days to go!!!

Sister's Baby Shower - Girly Wishes

I made my sister’s girlfriend cry at the shower. Tears. Actual tears.

All night long, everyone was of course asking me how I felt (“Oh, great, thanks….), how things are going (“they’re going,” “we’re getting there”), and telling me how “cute” I looked (smile – “thanks!”). All of that was fine. Well, because I have learned in the last month that when people ask how you’re feeling when you are pregnant, they don’t really want to know. Unless it’s your OB/GYN. He might. Everyone else is just being polite. I realized this because when you start to tell them you are not feeling so hot, that you throw up in your mouth at least four times a night and your boobs itch so badly they feel like they are going to erupt into flames….well, people get uncomfortable and they want to leave the conversation. So now I just smile and say, “Oh great, thanks” and I contribute to the false belief that all non-pregnant women have that pregnancy is so wonderful. I digress.

Throughout the night, I was, as usual, making many comments about my baby being a girl. I mentioned that I talk to her and call her Juliette (because how beautiful is that name?? I can’t wait to have a Juliette!), that I only buy girly things, that I just know it is a girl I am cooking.

So after my sister was finished opening her gifts (a ton of diapers – I am jealous. And yet I still can’t believe I am jealous of a ton of diapers) I offered to show some people my newly moved-into house next door. Her friend came along. We toured the house, everyone oohed and ahhed and then left to go back to my mom’s. But not this friend. She touched my arm in the kitchen and very quietly said, “You need to stop. You’re really upsetting me.” I asked what was wrong and she said, “Your baby might be a boy and you need to love him!” I sort of half laughed but then saw the tears – actual tears – in her eyes. I froze. Now this girl is an incredibly sweet, yet partially-paranoid mother of two (a boy and a girl, so easy for her to say right?). I said, “I will of course love my baby no matter what!” She continued. “I think you should go find out what it is. Ask your doctor, don’t tell anyone. That way, you can come to terms with it if it’s a boy. You need to.” I said, “I will be fine. I promise.” Then, to lighten the awkward moment, I said, “…because I know it’s a girl.” That didn’t help. The tears then fell and she added, “And stop calling it Juliette. Call it Baby. Please. I called mine Baby.” I finally just yes’d her to death and smiled a whole lot so she doesn’t call CPS on me before I even give birth.  Geez. She’s not even pregnant and she cried. I wonder how many other people are worried about me with my girl-obsession!

(To all those who agree with the friend and think that I am the crazy one: I will love my child. Whole-heartedly. I don’t doubt that with one fiber of my being. Just because I picture myself with a pink, long-haired, glittered baby doesn’t mean I won’t love the hell out of my potential son. Promise. I just hope it’s a girl ;) ).

95 days to go!!!

Ice Cream Heaven

Arguably, there are many important things that I should probably catch you up on. But, alas, I must take a moment to tell you about my ice cream last night. Since getting pregnant (well, really since my second trimester when food was once again appealing), I cannot get enough ice cream. It’s almost disgusting. It’s been my sex since pregnancy – even when I think I’m not in the mood for it, if I cave, it is oh so exactly what I needed. When I want it, I want it. Afterwards, I just want to savor it and sleep. Don’t talk to me, don’t ask me to do anything. Just let me enjoy the aftermath of my ice cream. So last night my younger sister, Laura (and future Godmother of Baby), dropped off a Friendly’s Reece’s Pieces sundae on her way home from her 12-hour shift. Bless her. Friendly’s is THE place to get ice cream on Long Island. At least in my opinion. Take out is best because then you can avoid all the chaos and the children and the hot dogs that are the restaurant. But even so, it’s worth it. So last night I scarfed down what I hope was a three-scoop and not a five-scoop sundae and felt as if I was in heaven. Baby loved it about two hours later and even mommy, tasting it over and over again thanks to the heartburn that has recently begun, (another thing no one ever tells you about when you become pregnant) smiled every time Baby kicked. I imagined each kick as a, “Thank you Mom! That was delic!”

Tonight is my twin sister, Michele’s, baby shower. She is due in less than 4 weeks. (Yes I currently envy/hate her for that). It’s her fourth child – possibly her fourth boy although we are all hoping for a little pink bundle this time. (I haven’t yet explained to you my obsession with having a girl, but I am sure we will get to that. I may be avoiding it because of all the negative response I may get when people learn of my absolute need for this baby to be a girl. But that is to be continued…) I am excited for Michele’s shower. In this family, we host a shower (or at least a “sprinkle”) for every baby that is born. Why should just the first baby get recognized with nice, new things? She doesn’t know about it and she likely will be a bit ticked off at me but that’s just tough. She’s said that for the last two pregnancies and we’ve gotten over it.

Thanks to my successful shopping trip yesterday, I even have something to wear tonight that I may not feel appalling in. Turns out, the more you are willing to pay for clothes, the cuter they will tell you you look in them. White House Black Market – highly recommended. I even bought a dress for my own baby shower. Problem is – don’t know when or where that will be. I called Laura (aka ice cream delivery sister) and asked her how she can arrange for me to be in said dress for my shower. She will take it from me tonight (along with matching boots and coordinating jewelry) and keep it with her until I need it. Voila – solution. Sometimes things are simpler than they seem.

I’d love to write more but Baby is hungry – what else is new?! Sometimes, especially when I am writing, I forget for just a few moments that I am pregnant. But then, as happened now, I catch a quick, internal kick to the vagina to remind me that yes, there is something growing inside of me that does not like to be ignored. Baby and Mommy already have something in common ;)

96 days to go!!!

26 weeks and "F" Update

I don’t know if it’s the Raisin Bran and calcium-heavy o.j. I had today or just old-fashioned optimism, but things are looking up. Yesterday, baby and I hit 26 weeks. If you’ve ever been pregnant, every week is a milestone. If you’ve ever been pregnant and not afraid to say that you dislike being pregnant, every week is cause for a celebration. Fourteen weeks left to go. (Yes, I just said that I dislike being pregnant. I know there are numerous women – probably a majority, which I will never understand – that say they enjoy being pregnant. Some even “love” it. It’s miraculous. Amazing. They miss it when it’s over. They MISS it. I can’t believe that. But not this momma. More to follow.)

Things with F are better. We had one of our exhausting, one-hour phone conversations wherein I cry but say everything (everything) that is on my mind. He listens and vents and usually remains extremely calm. I have to give him that – he deals very well with me. He doesn’t try to fight with me and he usually is willing to admit that some things I say actually make sense. We found clarity in our I-don’t-want-nor-need-you-to-stay-overnight-at-the-hospital-with-me disagreement. He took this personally and felt I was trying to control things. He maybe even felt I was trying to gip him out of “baby time.” I explained that even if we had been married for ten years, I wouldn’t want/need him there. This is just an example of how very different we are: he is more needy. He would need me there, he would need to be there. I NEED my space and privacy and sleep. I need sleep (have I said that already?). That is why I want the private room – to get away from all noises and movements unless they are coming from me.

But, overall, things are good between us for now. We have begun to tackle some of the challenges we face as unmarried, un-cohabitating parents: baby’s first name, baby’s last name, hospital plan, finances, and….ugh, I don’t even like to think about it never mind see it in writing, but the dreaded “v” word….visitation. No details on a lot of this yet, but we have broken ground. And I will take that.

Baby seems excited. He/she is kicking my insides as I write. I take that for a sign of agreement. A small little, “you go, Momma!” from my soon-to-be biggest fan. So today, so far, is a good day. I am off to try on some dresses for some upcoming events so things have the potential to take a turn for the worse but I will let you know later.

97 days to go!!!!

Introduction to a Single Momma

I like to think of myself as a fairly rational person. I can usually talk myself out of something, into something, or around something - whatever needs to be done. But since becoming pregnant, my mind has a mind of its own. Once something gets stuck in there, it’s lodged for a very, very long and stubborn time. There is no moving on, no just forgetting about it, no distracting me.

The situation with the father of my baby is difficult enough (notice I called him “the father of my baby” and none of the more socially acceptable titles of husband, fiancé, or even boyfriend, which would likely still raise an eyebrow or two). Throw in the pregnancy and the hormones and it has been…interesting.  

We are trying – and I can honestly say “we” – to make the best of a challenging situation. I got pregnant two months after meeting him (clearly an unplanned, but lovely surprise), stopped short his planned marriage proposal and then decided that a romantic relationship between us is just not what the doctor ordered right now. And I’ve been to a lot of doctors. He (we’ll call him “F” for father), obviously and justifiably, was upset and shocked and all of the many other adjectives that I could use to underplay his reaction, however he is handling it as best he can. My fear is that his best and my best are not enough. They are at least not coming together very well.

I admit I am controlling to a fault. I am independent to a fault. Stubborn to a …. you get the idea. But F likes to over-analyze everything, including me, and I am not a wonderful subject for over-analysis. After 33 years, I am lucky I understand myself sometimes. God speed to him with that journey.

Thank goodness it takes babies so long to cook…

104 days to go!!!