Friday, June 25, 2010


To the general public:






I am not into that sort of thing.

"Because it sticks out more than it used to" is not an acceptable reason to fondle my abdominal region.

Thank you for your consideration.

Carry on.

Tuesday, June 22, 2010


So. 21w5d into this pregnancy, and I am officially boring. For which I am grateful, on the one hand - I don't need any more pregnancy-related excitement than I've had over the past four years - but it does make for a fairly uninteresting blog.

I continue to have a little morning sickness now and again, even despite the drugs, but it's infinitely better than those first months. Baby is moving around and kicking a fair amount, and my husband felt it for the first time on Friday: his first Father's Day present.

I definitely look pregnant now, which is a weird place to be: fun, on the one hand, and freakishly public, on the other. Sometimes I wish I could wear a t-shirt that says something like, "don't hate me; I endured infertility to get here," because I think about all the pregnant women I shot evil looks at (mostly internally, but still), and it hurts my heart to think that I might be that pregnant woman for someone who's still enduring the fertility battle. But, you can't fix everything. Might as well learn that now.

Being obviously pregnant also increases the "unwanted advice and stories" shared with me, especially at church. Someday, I will be able to walk into a room and talk about something besides childbirth and babies, but not for awhile. Note to self: should self have a terrible birth experience, remember that pregnant women DO NOT WANT TO HEAR ABOUT THAT. Remember this for later.

I have to pee. All. the. time.

And thus endeth the story of my current life. Eat; pee. Sleep; get up to pee. Forget what I was saying in the middle of a sentence; pee.

Next week: adventures in registering for baby gift items. I'm pretty sure there will be something bloggable there.

Friday, June 11, 2010

and now for something completely different

I found this on another blog today, and frankly, I'm having a boring sort of day. Not much to do at work (this happens every once in awhile, so I'm cleaning my VERY MESSY desk. And procrastinating).

99 Things About Me (Everything that I have accomplished is in bold)

1. Started your own blog

2. Slept under the stars

3. Played in a band

4. Visited Hawaii

5. Watched a meteor shower

6. Given more than you can afford to charity

7. Been to DisneyWorld

8. Climbed a mountain

9. Held a praying mantis

10. Sang a solo

11. Bungee jumped

12. Visited Paris

13. Watched a lightning storm

14. Taught yourself an art from scratch (I did learn to knit, but a friend taught me)

15. Adopted a child

16. Had food poisoning

17. Walked to the top of the Statue of Liberty

18. Grown your own vegetables

19. Seen the Mona Lisa in France

20. Slept on an overnight train

21. Had a pillow fight

22. Hitch-hiked

23. Taken a sick day when you’re not ill

24. Built a snow fort

25. Held a lamb

26. Gone skinny dipping

27. Run a Marathon

28. Ridden in a gondola in Venice

29. Seen a total eclipse

30. Watched a sunrise or sunset

31. Hit a home run (not even close)

32. Been on a cruise

33. Seen Niagara Falls in person

34. Visited the birthplace of your ancestors

35. Seen an Amish community

36. Taught yourself a new language

37. Had enough money to be truly satisfied

38. Seen the Leaning Tower of Pisa in person

39. Gone rock climbing

40. Seen Michelangelo’s David

41. Sung karaoke

42. Seen Old Faithful geyser erupt

43. Bought a stranger a meal at a restaurant

44. Visited Africa

45. Walked on a beach by moonlight

46. Been transported in an ambulance

47. Had your portrait painted

48. Gone deep sea fishing

50. Been to the top of the Eiffel Tower in Paris

51. Gone scuba diving or snorkeling

52. Kissed in the rain

53. Played in the mud

54. Gone to a drive-in theater

55. Been in a movie

56. Visited the Great Wall of China

57. Started a business

58. Taken a martial arts class

59. Visited Russia

60. Served at a soup kitchen

61. Sold Girl Scout Cookies (I did sell CampFire mints, though)

62. Gone whale watching

63. Got flowers for no reason

64. Donated blood, platelets or plasma

65. Gone sky diving

66. Visited a Nazi Concentration Camp

67. Bounced a check

68. Flown in a helicopter

69. Saved a favorite childhood toy

70. Visited the Lincoln Memorial

71. Eaten Caviar

72. Pieced a quilt

73. Stood in Times Square

74. Toured the Everglades

75. Been fired from a job

76. Seen the Changing of the Guards in London

77. Broken a bone

78. Been a passenger on a motorcycle

79. Seen the Grand Canyon in person

80. Published a book

81. Visited the Vatican

82. Bought a brand new car

83. Walked in Jerusalem

84. Had your picture in the newspaper

85. Kissed a stranger at midnight on New Year’s Eve

86. Visited the White House

87. Killed and prepared an animal for eating

88. Had chickenpox

89. Saved someone’s life

90. Sat on a jury

91. Met someone famous

92. Joined a book club

93. Got a tattoo

94. Had a baby

95. Seen the Alamo in person

96. Swam in the Great Salt Lake

97. Been involved in a law suit

98. Owned a cell phone

99. Been stung by a bee

Wednesday, June 9, 2010


Tomorrow is the 20-week mark; halfway through this pregnancy. Wow. How did that happen?

The pharmaceutical industry continues to receive my love and praise, given that I have hardly thrown up since I started the zo.fran (and some over-the-counter stuff is taking care of the side effects). I still seem to have, shall we say, an overactive gag reflex. Not sure what's up with that. Did you know it is possible to throw up without actually being nauseous? Yeah. Me neither. Surprises abound.

Monday we had our ultrasound, which was tremendously reassuring. All the parts are there; two hands, two feet, cute bones, four-chambered heart, good-looking brain, chewing jaw, bladder, kidneys - it's amazing what they can see. And what they can decipher; half the time the tech said, "you'll just have to take my word for it...that's a _______." "Okay," we said, in a daze.

We got a great look at one of the baby's feet - our favorite moment. So crystal clear, the five toes and the little foot shape, like a tiny bigfoot in my belly. I laid there, thinking, "someone else's heart is beating inside my body. Someone else's foot is kicking inside my body. SOMEONE ELSE IS PEEING INSIDE MY BODY." Beautiful, and strange, and surrealistically wonderful.

We didn't find out the gender. People have very definite opinions on this, I've noticed. I get a lot of, "WHAT? You're not going to find out? Why on earth not?" interspersed with a fair amount of, "oh, good; you're not going to find out. That's how it should be." I don't think this is really a moral question, but it's as if you have to make a choice between good and evil. We just want to be surprised, that's all. Chill out, people.

I can feel the baby moving on a regular basis. The room is painted, a darling cream and light green combination. The crib has been ordered. It's all so...normal. Normal is hard to get used to, sometimes.

But I can work on it. I think all I say to God these days is, "thank you." It's a nice change.

Tuesday, June 1, 2010

the best laid plans

I've been thinking a lot lately about plans. This is mostly because I'm quickly approaching the halfway mark of this pregnancy, and realizing that, while I have lots of information in my head about infertility, and now a fairly decent amount about pregnancy, I have virtually no information about giving birth. (I'm a one-step-at-time kind of girl.) I happen to know several women who have recently given birth, or who are about to, and so the topic of 'birth plans' has been in the air lately.

There's still a big part of me that hardly realizes I'm pregnant, much less that I will actually be giving birth at some point. But that's probably a post for another day.

I know three women who have recently had children. Each of them had a fairly detailed birth plan. Each of them fully intended to have a drug-free childbirth experience. One of them did so, but after a 47-hour labor; the other two ended up with emergency c-sections. All three, particularly the two who had c-sections, have expressed great disappointment and sadness about their birth experiences (while also, make no mistake, taking great joy in their children).

So I've been thinking about those stories. And about plans in general. Because I had a plan too, once upon a time. The plan went something like this:
  • meet man of dreams sometime in mid-20's.
  • after year-long courtship, marry man of dreams at about age 27. Maybe 28.
  • be blissfully married for one or two years.
  • have first child at age 29. Maybe 30.
  • have second child at age 33.
  • potential third child (not own idea, but perhaps man of dreams will want three) 3 years later. Surely finished with having children by age 36. Surely.
  • man of dreams gets vasectomy.
  • live happily ever after.
My actual life went something like this:
  • finish college, go to grad school. Finish that at age 26, having met absolutely no dreamy men, except for one, who would have been disastrous husband. But who was fun to kiss for a short time.
  • take first job in small-ish city where female pastors are unheard of and everyone assumes I am a nun. Not good for dating possibilities.
  • date one guy for a year. Allow him to lead me on until he moves away. Bastard.
  • finally meet man of dreams at benefit luncheon at age 31. Bit late.
  • marry after one year. Now age 32.
  • be married for requisite year. Quite blissful, actually.
  • try to get pregnant for four years.
  • get pregnant at age 37. Behind schedule. And unlikely to have another, at this point.
So much for plans.

Everyone experiences infertility a bit differently. It changes all of us, I believe, but in various ways. As for me, I've learned not to put so much stock in planning. Because, truthfully, those plans may not work out.

This is a hard lesson for someone who loves to make lists, cross things off, get things accomplished. Someone who enjoys housecleaning because it has tangible results; someone who puts a meal list together for the week. Someone who has to plan, months in advance, for various job responsibilities.

This pregnancy could not have been more planned, when it finally happened. There was absolutely nothing spontaneous about it. But, after that, it's all unknown. We're not finding out the gender, so I can't plan too much, too specifically. I'm doing my best to start getting things covered at work, but I can't count on a particular date as the one on which I'll end up in the hospital - I have to leave some things unknown, undone.

I'm not entirely opposed to birth plans. I think everybody handles this experience differently. I have only one strong preference, which is that only my husband and I will be in the birthing room. But that's it; that's my plan. My plan is to go to the hospital and have a baby. I'm sure I'll come up with a few more preferences, but that's all they'll be: preferences. Not plans. Because this is beyond planning. And the last thing I want is to be disappointed by what will be, in all likelihood, my only experience giving birth.

It's possible that I will change my mind over the next few months, that I'll learn something which will provoke me to create a more detailed plan. But I doubt it. I've tried planning this child. It didn't work. I simply want to enjoy this moment, and the next one. See what it looks like when we get there.