almost overdue
By nik | September 19, 2008
the baby is due tomorrow–but i’m not holding my breath. she seems a little bit too comfy in my gut, and it seems that pregnancy still has crap to throw at me. i’ve only just started sleeping like total crap since she dropped into my pelvis, and I haven’t even gotten a hemorroid yet. so it looks like it could be another few weeks before she decides to make an appearance.
now i know why all the women in my office who were initially so lovey dovey about my baby bump switched to maniacal laughter every time they saw me later in my pregnancy.
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Mwah!
By nik | July 15, 2008
Yeah it’s been three months since I last posted. Wanna fight about it?
It’s true. Blogging has taken a back seat to my burgeoning belly, which has started to show signs of alien life that are not altogether pleasant. I’d feel worse if I actually thought people read this blog…although apparently more people wander onto it than I thought. Perhaps when the baby is out and I don’t have to be in front of a computer all day at work I’ll want to blog a bit more, and actually dedicate myself to this site a bit.
In the meantime, piecemeal it will have to be.
So many things have fallen to the wayside in the past few months. Foremost on my mind is the reupholstering of my couch, which was a crazy project to take on, I admit, but I didn’t feel I had much of a choice if I didn’t want to spend more than the couch cost to begin with on a professional job.
Looking back, I should’ve just paid the damn money. Reupholstering is a pain in the ass.
Work has been crazy, and trying to rearrange all of the stuff in our tiny house to accomodate a baby and all its stuff is like playing an unpleasant game of tetris against someone who you know will smoke you every time. It seems that I can have two rooms that are uncluttered and somewhat peaceful, but it’s at the cost of every other room being jam packed with crap. I would say I don’t know how I got so much stuff, except I totally do–since we can’t afford a proper house, we’ve been consoling ourselves with THINGS that on their own are not very big, but all together make a mound of junk that I’m fairly ashamed of.
I don’t think I’m alone–is everyone just hoarding more stuff now that the economy is looking like it’s taking a swan dive?
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and that’s when the C.H.U.D.s came at me.
By nik | April 22, 2008
Up to this point, I’ve pretty much avoided what was, to my husband at least, the most feared possible side-effect of pregnancy: hormonal imbalance. Having been known to crawl under the bed or into the back of my closet for a good cry/screaming fit during some of my rougher moments, neither of us quite knew what to expect when I got pregnant. Certainly not clarity and balance. But somehow, for awhile at least, that was what we got. Yes, I was gaining weight at an alarming rate, but my body clearly needed to take care of itself. Yes, my husband and I would barely see each other as I tucked into bed at 8 and he returned from band practice at 11 each night, but he should enjoy his free time while he could get it. Now, however, all rational explanations of the minor discomforts I bear each day have been blown aside by pure, unadulterated despair. Clearly now that I am pregnant my life is over. I am fat, and not just in my stomach where I’m supposed to be. Maternity pants can barely contain my ever-expanding girth. Television commercials and trash day alike elicit what seems to be the only possible response: a torrent of sobs. I turn thirty on Saturday–perfect timing for my new pity partying. Guests have been warned that any birthday gifts should not arrive in the form of onesies or baby-sized accessories, lest the birthday girl collapse into a pile of self-pitying goo before the candles are even lit.
I am trying to keep a sense of humor about it all. After all, no one likes a sad fattie.
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The big 3-0
By nik | April 14, 2008
My thirtieth birthday is fact approaching, and I am at a loss. Drawing a total blank on what I would like to do to celebrate what still feels like a momentous occasion (although it does seem to dwarf a bit in comparison to the whole “growing a new human being in your stomach” thing). Back before the pregnancy, when I was blissfully burden-free, I saw my thirtieth birthday party as a swanky affair up at some cool lounge in San Francisco, where all my friends would get together and pretend to be grown up and elegant for a night. However, there are a few new obstacles to my definition of “grown up” and “elegant” since I became an incubator.
One: Grown ups do not have a 9:30 bedtime. Unless they have a job that requires them to be up at the ass-crack of dawn. And I do not.
Two: Maternity clothes are not elegant. Unless you find an empire waist tied with a huge bow elegant. And if you do, I banish you from my blog forever (or until you’ve spent a good long time at www.gofugyourself.com and see the error of your ways).
Three: I’ve tried to dance around it, but frankly, I expected to spend a good portion of my thirtieth birthday elegantly wasted. I have not spent an entire birthday-day stone cold sober since the age of 19, and if ever I needed a drink, it would be on my 30th–whereupon I gaze at the ruins of my youth and pretend that I haven’t taken to counting down on birthdays instead of up (if I live until 80, I’ve got 50 more years ahead of me…I suppose you could look at that as incredibly morbid, but hell, I think I’m being pretty optimistic–80 wouldn’t be bad.
So, others have drummed up some ideas, and I will apparently be surprised by the form the celebration takes–although I checked to see if I could nap during if necessary (yes) and if it would be depressing if only the family showed up, because either people are just all really busy on the 26th, or else they took my email bemoaning my lost youth (and looks, and ability to get drunk) a little too seriously and didn’t want to commit to attending a drag of a party (answer: no).
However, whether I can drink or not, I absolutely insist that people get trashed when I have my baby shower–those things are insufferable when you’re sober.
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Slightly better
By nik | March 31, 2008
It’s getting slightly better, this being pregnant thing; although I suspect I will not feel like myself again until after I pop the kid out, and then I’ll have so many other things to make me feel strange and exhausted and terrified.
It might help that this weekend was an orgy of accomplishment. In order, I:
Made one more step toward reupholstering my couch
Returned old knitting needles for needles of the correct size and bought buttons to attach to the cardigan that has been going without for too long
Got a new prescription for my glasses that should put an end to the awful headaches I’ve been having
Picked up my medical records for transfer to my new doctor
Returned awful maternity shirt to Marshall’s and bought bedspread for guest room/nursery
Took dog to dog park for short romp
Cooked delicious meal of cherry cabernet lamb with mixed greens
Bought new mattress for new bedroom set
Set up new bedroom set
Set up guest room/nursery and reorganized office space
Did laundry
Cooked chili
Went to the gym (for the first time in about 3 months…ouch)
Did grocery shopping
Went out for breakfast
Bought lamps for bedroom at IKEA
Received new mattress
Napped
Went to about a gazillion open houses
Picked up hardware for mounting new mirror above new dresser
More laundry
Bought mattress cover, step stool and odds and ends
Baked cornbread for dinner (with chili)
Passed out.
Shoot. I’m tired just reading all that.
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All the glory that is pregnancy
By nik | February 28, 2008
I hear pregnancy is wonderful–women glow and somehow remain sexy even as their bellies grow to elephantine proportions. I wouldn’t know anything about it–I’ve been asleep for 348 hours…just in the last month. So perhaps it’s not surprising that I haven’t been online.
So far, I’m not impressed with this condition. I thought I’d be one of the lucky few who enjoyed pregnancy–I now know that those women are mythological. Do no exist. I have been pregnant for only a little over 2 and a half months and already: I require 12 hours of sleep a night, and naps whenever possible to supplement; when I am awake, invariably, I am shoving food into my face, which has resulted in eating of any kind feeling like a terrible chore; I am not showing–I swear–I am simply fat and bloated. If you touch my belly I will kick you. I am alternatively nauseous, constipated, fluish, cranky, teary-eyed and terrified that the half-glass of wine I drank last week will cause my child to sprout an extra set of genitals.
10 and a half weeks in, and I’m ready to call it quits. My plantitive cries for my husband to punch me in the belly have gone unheeded. It’s not hard for him to ignore me, since I’m only awake for about a hour during which he’s actually home, and I suspect he simply deletes my emails. I know I wanted this, and I know there are too many woman who would kill (preferably me, if they read this post, I realize) to be pregnant. I’m sorry. I’m happy to be pregnant, I swear. But if it doesn’t get better, I don’t think I can do this a second time.
I’m secretly hoping that I will wake up two weeks from now and magically make the 1 hour drive to work without the irrepressible need for a granola bar lest I faint or vomit or both. I will sleep an undisturbed 8 hours–6 if there’s something good on TV–and wake up feeling refreshed and well-rested. My stomach will start to sprout, just a bit, but in a way that’s clear that I’m prenant and not just a fattie. And I will not need to pee twice before I leave the house, directly when i arrive at the office, then every half and hour on the half an hour until I leave for home, where, upon arrival, I must sprint directly to the bathroom.
But I suspect that’s another myth that will shortly be revealed.
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the superbowl may’ve been awesome, but mondays still suck
By nik | February 4, 2008
what a game–I mean, really. I only watch like 2 games all season, the superbowl being one of them, but nothing beats watching a good game of football on a chilly sunday afternoon. and this year’s superbowl was absolutely fantastic. I admit, I had little faith in the Giants, but they pulled off that win beautifully.
on other fronts, went up skiing on saturday–probably not on my ob/gyn’s list of fun things you should do in the first trimester, but I took it very easy. not easy enough to avoid catching a cold, but I did manage to come out with limbs intact and unbroken, so I say it was a successful outing. the only good thing is that the throbbing of my head is distracting me from my morning sickness.
to the doctor tomorrow–haven’t yet decided if I’ll share the details of my exercise routine with him or not.
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I’m a yoga slacker
By nik | January 29, 2008
I admit it. I don’t yoga as much as I used to. I’ve got lots of excuses–the class is taught in a conference room in downtown city hall, on nasty-ass corporate carpeting and sometimes around furniture that can’t be moved, the teacher once took out her bad mood on my pelvis (that sounds much dirtier than it was), apparently the attractive qualities of my ass in yoga pants is too much for some people–a point which they choose to share with me and everyone else on the street at the top of their lungs–but really, it’s because my yoga teacher likes to make us do partner exercises.
http://www.salon.com/mwt/feature/2008/01/23/partner_yoga/index.html?source=rss&aim=/mwt/feature
There are only a few people in this world who I want to touch and be touched by, and even then, not during my yoga practice. I like the personal, meditative side of yoga, where I can fall into myself a bit and relax. I don’t want to worry about if I stink or have a hangnail or how far down my shirt my “partner” can see while I’m working deeper into downward dog. And I don’t think I’m in the minority.
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blargh
By nik | January 28, 2008
I’ve actually been feeling okay for first trimester pregnant, but I feel worse not having symptoms in case it means something’s wrong. The one symptom I’m experiencing full on is confusion and mixed emotions.
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Miscarriage tied to caffeine…and nauseau…and listening to all the reasons people give for miscarriage
By nik | January 24, 2008
There really is some kind of weird conspiracy against pregnant women (and women in general, for that matter, since as a gender, we’re the ones responsible for carrying the babies) with all of the things you can and can’t eat, drink and do when you’re pregnant. It’s hard enough for me, knowing that my risk of miscarriage, after trying to get pregnant for 5 months, is 1 in 5 for the first 3 months of my pregnancy, without throwing in the agenda of a mass of people who want to dictate what I do or don’t do that might affect my fetus: http://www.salon.com/mwt/broadsheet/2008/01/22/coffee_miscarriage/index.html.
I can’t, and won’t, worry about 200 mg of coffee v. 300 mg of coffee, or about a quarter of a glass of wine, or eating a piece of sushi while I’m pregnant. I’m taking reasonable precautions, and I’m weighing them carefully, but the fact is, if I miscarry, I believe it’ll be because of an abnormality in the genes of the fetus, not from my actions. We need to remember that generations before us didn’t follow many of the precautions we face today, and the world continued to turn, babies continued to miscarry and be born. The biggest question for me is, where is this weird agenda to control women coming from?
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