Matthew and I take photography classes a couple times a week and we're really enjoying them. The course we took over the summer was so-so, but these ones are great, and I'm pretty sure it has to do with the teachers.
For the first class we took, we had to bring in a photo that we liked every week and then talk about it. We did this for the last hour of a 3-hour class, and when there's only 10 people in the class, you get REALLY bored looking at the same photos. Needless to say, it was our least favourite part of the class.
So we were a little pessimistic this term when our new teacher asked us to bring in photos every week. Not just one, but many photos we've taken, and all of them related to the assignments he's given us. In fact, instead of ever handing our photos in, we just bring them in, display them for the class and spend at least an hour going through everyone's. It sounds like more (perhaps a LOT more...) of the same, right?
Wrong! This teacher is great. Without evening realizing it, I've been learning the course objectives simply by his commentary on everyone's photos. I've been learning about diagonals, positioning of the subject, contrast, and the like, simply by discussing the photos. The only thing I don't like about it so much is that it's a lot of standing around in one place for long periods of time, which my legs and back just can't handle, so I usually drag around a chair with me while everyone else stands. No-one seems to mind, because apparently you get special priveleges when you're pregnant. It's kindof silly really, but I'll get to that later.
Anyway, why am I mentioning all of this? I guess it's not totally necessary, but it does set the stage for a hilarious exchange I witnessed last night that I have to type on here, for fear that I'll forget it.
This girl, maybe 23 years old, is in the class, and she's cute as can be. Very sweet, curly hair, and even talks with the higher, soft voice that completely suits her. The kind where you just chuckle when they're a little clueless. Except last night I was trying my best to not burst out into fits of uncontrollable laughter!
She had brought in her photos. One of the photos she took at her work place, and had got her boss to pose in the shot, except you can't see the boss too well because of the technique she used. Here is what ensued:
Girl - that's my boss leaning over the counter for a game
Guy - it looks like you're working with Helen Hunt there (you know, the actress from Twister, Pay it Forward, What Women Want, Castaway, etc.)
Girl - (eyes lighting up, and saying excitedly) Oh! You know her?!
(me, trying to figure out if this girl seriously knows Helen Hunt, or if she's just playing along with guy's sarcasm or not-so-funny joke...)
(guy, trying to figure out what to say, because he's completely taken aback by her response. Silence throughout the class...)
Guy - your boss' name is Helen??
Girl - Yeah, (class begins to laugh because, what are the odds? Girl still doesn't get it...) she took a photography class here last year, so she probably knows some of you guys that way! (still excited people know her boss.) Anyway, yeah, there she is, and I got this one because it was shooting upwards, blah blah blah.....
I know it might be one of those things that are better experienced in person, but trust me when I say, it was awesome.
Anyway, special priveleges just because you're pregnant. You're not allowed to stand on chairs to get things, whether you're 6 months or 6 weeks along. You always get to the front of the food line and are teased if you are eager to eat (seriously, I've always been one of the first up for food. It's really not the pregnancy.) People don't even let you fold and carry chairs, or carry an empty cooler. If you're moody, it's just the hormones (a little frustrating when you want to be taken seriously) and if you only like one of the gross things someone brought to a pot-luck, you must be craving it.
I just chuckle about the 'priveleges' and sometimes I sigh. Because really, I feel fine, and I think it's more the new mothers who need a hand here and there, but as soon as the baby comes, you get treated as if you're no long a starving, tired, mess of emotions with extra weight to carry.
It's so much the opposite though! If you're breastfeeding, you need more calories than if you're you're pregnant, you're getting less sleep because you're not only awake for half the night, you're UP half the night, there's post-partum depression, and the baby is still growing, reaching 10, 15, even 20 lb's by 4 months old, so instead of carrying pregnancy weight, you're carrying the baby. And the low-iron thing? That can come after you give birth too, due to loss of blood, so it can be adding to your tiredness, and you'll *still* feel out of breath.
And this isn't limited to women who give birth to have children, I might add. New mothers through adoption are sleeping just as much throughout the night as if they'd given birth to the baby, and apparently adopting a 2-year-old is pretty much the same because they're up a lot, trying to adjust to their new environment. Depression can still hit you because your life has changed so unexpectedly, and if you're struggling to bond with your child, or if you have difficulty with feelings of entitlement. You have a baby or toddler to carry around which will be a shock to anyone's arms (and feet if you're not used to carring the weight gradually, as pregnant women do.) And there are other similarities too, I'm sure.
Anyway, I don't know what the point of this ramble was. I guess I just feel like I'm being treated so differently when I wish I was being treated like my normal self. Sure I need to sit a bit more during choir practice or our photography class, but most of the time I'm being treated like a ticking time-bomb that might go into labour with the slightest provocation. It's a little unnerving because I wonder how much of it is true, and then I start to worry about myself more than is necessary. I love going to see the midwives, because instead of treating pregnancy like a medical condition (as most people treat me), they are empowering, encouraging, and very realistic when it comes to the body's capabilities.
Anyway, this wasn't meant to be long, and I'm starting to bore myself, so I'm so sorry if you're bored with this post too! I'll finish it up, and will only write again this week if I have something truly interesting to say. :D
Wednesday, October 28, 2009
Monday, October 26, 2009
Can I let off some steam for a minute?
Alright. This post is going to seem completely random and "where in the world did that downer come from?!" but I just want to write about it a bit. Because when I wrote about what it's like being pregnant the other day, I missed some things.
I'll give a bit of a precursor to this post first though.
A few months ago I discovered the beauty of blogs written by people experiencing infertility and going through adoption and the like. Unfortunately for me, I discovered this after I found out I was pregnant. Why should that be unfortunate? Because my life would have been a whole lot happier, or maybe just easier, if I'd found these things *before* I was pregnant. They'd have helped me to realize I wasn't so alone in how I was feeling and it'd have given me some different perspectives on how to deal with my struggles.
You may think, "I don't know why she bothers reading them now, because she's pregnant," and that's the whole theme of my post today. Why bother reading these things? Why, when I'm nearly 7 months pregnant and everything is going really well, would I want to sit down and cry when I read their posts and remember so clearly what it felt like to be going through that?
I think the answer is that, I feel like I'm still going through it. Weird, I know.
Here's something rather frustrating though. I feel a little alienated. Like I don't fit in anywhere at all. I feel like I can't post comments on these blogs because I have what they want. I'm pregnant and healthy and life is beautiful right now and to post would be to shove it in their faces or to flaunt my blessing.
I also feel like I don't fit in with people who have never experienced infertility. Because they (in my mind, even if it might not be true) don't realize how much it's hurt these last 4 years to watch so many people have babies and to fight the urge to be envious or to despair, and to feel like I must not be good enough to be a mom. That there's something inherently wrong with me. I also feel like I don't fit in with this group because I'm still hurting from that pain. I'm scared - oh so scared - and I morbidly count down to every little milestone like when I'm unlikely to miscarry, to the next ultrasound proving there's still a heartbeat, to the point at which the baby is 'viable', to the point where they *could* be born and live without any major complications, etc etc. I feel like Fertile Frannies couldn't understand that. That they have every reason to expect things to go well, and that I have every reason to expect something to blow up in my face just when my hopes get too high.
The first little bit of being pregnant was the hardest. Only family knew, but it was enough for me. I didn't want to talk about it, because all I felt was fear and disbelief, while they were all ecstatic. I wasn't convinced something wouldn't go wrong, and I feared talking about it then, even the loving sympathy that I knew would be well-meant if anything *did* happen. The hushed tones, and so on. I still fear that in a way, but, let's be honest, there's no hiding the pregnancy now. I think I was not very graceful about my fears at times. In fact, I'm convinced I wasn't, because at one point Matt said to me, "You have to understand how they're feeling, and how and why they're all so excited and happy," to which I responded, "Why do I have to always understand how they're feeling, and no-one else HAS to understand how I'm feeling?" Again, I felt alienated.
So I read these blogs because I feel like here, at least, are people who can articulate what I'm feeling. Most of the time when I'm posting on here I'm posting happiness and excitement and milestones and the like, because I try to not complain. I don't even know if I'm complaining right now, and I do apologize if I am because I try hard not to, it's just that sometimes, when I'm sitting home alone during the day and have too much time to think, I just need to cry and have someone try to understand my feelings.
I AM happy. I AM excited. I can't believe how much I love this baby already and he hasn't even been born yet. I'm scared out of my mind at the idea of anything happening to him because of the love I have for him, but I've realized that it's unproductive to focus on my fears all the time, so I try to drown them out with posts about how well everything is going, perhaps to reassure myself that everything is normal. I try to act normal so that everything will BE normal. And normally babies are carried to full-term and are born healthy and strong. Every first star I see, and every time the clock is at 11:11, and every time I pray, I pray that my baby will be healthy and well and will continue to grow. (as an aside, does anyone else wish on stars and make a wish when the clock is 11:11? I feel a little childish, but I just can't help myself.)
I know I'm a bit of a blogging liar though. I'll confess it to you now. I didn't post about when I was feeling crampy and called the midwives crying and how they came over so that I could hear the heartbeat. I didn't post about when I was spotting a teeny bit and felt like I was going to puke I was so upset and I (again) called the midwives, only to realize later than it wasn't even coming from the right area for anything to be wrong. I didn't post about the horrible dream I had where I went into labour at 20 weeks and was so excited until I realized that the baby wouldn't be able to survive and that he was lost to me. Posting about these things makes them too real. So I continue on merrily, posting happy news that I figure people are more likely to want to read anyway.
And so you probably have the perception that I am perfectly, incandescently happy and that nothing is more natural and easy than my being pregnant. I guess I felt the need to post this because I want people to understand me a little when I'm hung up over seemingly unimportant things, or when I kinda shaft you and don't talk pregnancy very well at times, or when I'm inexplicably excited that I've reached the 30 week mark because the chance of having a normal baby spikes at that point (one more week!)
I probably seem like a bit of a yoyo. One moment I'm fine and another I'm not. I try to hide it (I know Matt sees it, but he's used to me. ) I'm sorry if I get over-sensitive about things or if I talk too much about being pregnant. It's just crazy Holly trying to sort out her disorganized mind where everything good, bad and ugly is concerned.
Please know that I am so very very happy and amazed and feeling very blessed, but that I'm also still rather scared and healing from the scars of trying to have kids and being thwarted on every side. I'm sure I'll get over myself eventually.
Oh, and just in case you're interested, here are some of the blogs I like to read (**edit - I deleted the blog links a couple years after-the-fact. Some were outdated, and some I've just...stopped liking. Call me disenchanted, if you will.**)
Well, would you believe that I feel better than I did at the start of my post? Often expressing my emotions only gets me more worked up and entrenched in the feelings I have, but not so today. Posting the blogs I read allowed me to step back and recognize the strength of others, and that I, too, have strength that I underestimate at times.
I'm grateful to have gone through what I have, and I like myself and the person I've become through the trials I've faced. I like to think I'm better at understanding others' pain because I've been there and it sucks. I *hope* that I've learned through my trials, anyway, because if I haven't, what was the point?
Anyway, I'm going to sign off of here and get out of my pyjamas, as it's almost lunch time.
I'll give a bit of a precursor to this post first though.
A few months ago I discovered the beauty of blogs written by people experiencing infertility and going through adoption and the like. Unfortunately for me, I discovered this after I found out I was pregnant. Why should that be unfortunate? Because my life would have been a whole lot happier, or maybe just easier, if I'd found these things *before* I was pregnant. They'd have helped me to realize I wasn't so alone in how I was feeling and it'd have given me some different perspectives on how to deal with my struggles.
You may think, "I don't know why she bothers reading them now, because she's pregnant," and that's the whole theme of my post today. Why bother reading these things? Why, when I'm nearly 7 months pregnant and everything is going really well, would I want to sit down and cry when I read their posts and remember so clearly what it felt like to be going through that?
I think the answer is that, I feel like I'm still going through it. Weird, I know.
Here's something rather frustrating though. I feel a little alienated. Like I don't fit in anywhere at all. I feel like I can't post comments on these blogs because I have what they want. I'm pregnant and healthy and life is beautiful right now and to post would be to shove it in their faces or to flaunt my blessing.
I also feel like I don't fit in with people who have never experienced infertility. Because they (in my mind, even if it might not be true) don't realize how much it's hurt these last 4 years to watch so many people have babies and to fight the urge to be envious or to despair, and to feel like I must not be good enough to be a mom. That there's something inherently wrong with me. I also feel like I don't fit in with this group because I'm still hurting from that pain. I'm scared - oh so scared - and I morbidly count down to every little milestone like when I'm unlikely to miscarry, to the next ultrasound proving there's still a heartbeat, to the point at which the baby is 'viable', to the point where they *could* be born and live without any major complications, etc etc. I feel like Fertile Frannies couldn't understand that. That they have every reason to expect things to go well, and that I have every reason to expect something to blow up in my face just when my hopes get too high.
The first little bit of being pregnant was the hardest. Only family knew, but it was enough for me. I didn't want to talk about it, because all I felt was fear and disbelief, while they were all ecstatic. I wasn't convinced something wouldn't go wrong, and I feared talking about it then, even the loving sympathy that I knew would be well-meant if anything *did* happen. The hushed tones, and so on. I still fear that in a way, but, let's be honest, there's no hiding the pregnancy now. I think I was not very graceful about my fears at times. In fact, I'm convinced I wasn't, because at one point Matt said to me, "You have to understand how they're feeling, and how and why they're all so excited and happy," to which I responded, "Why do I have to always understand how they're feeling, and no-one else HAS to understand how I'm feeling?" Again, I felt alienated.
So I read these blogs because I feel like here, at least, are people who can articulate what I'm feeling. Most of the time when I'm posting on here I'm posting happiness and excitement and milestones and the like, because I try to not complain. I don't even know if I'm complaining right now, and I do apologize if I am because I try hard not to, it's just that sometimes, when I'm sitting home alone during the day and have too much time to think, I just need to cry and have someone try to understand my feelings.
I AM happy. I AM excited. I can't believe how much I love this baby already and he hasn't even been born yet. I'm scared out of my mind at the idea of anything happening to him because of the love I have for him, but I've realized that it's unproductive to focus on my fears all the time, so I try to drown them out with posts about how well everything is going, perhaps to reassure myself that everything is normal. I try to act normal so that everything will BE normal. And normally babies are carried to full-term and are born healthy and strong. Every first star I see, and every time the clock is at 11:11, and every time I pray, I pray that my baby will be healthy and well and will continue to grow. (as an aside, does anyone else wish on stars and make a wish when the clock is 11:11? I feel a little childish, but I just can't help myself.)
I know I'm a bit of a blogging liar though. I'll confess it to you now. I didn't post about when I was feeling crampy and called the midwives crying and how they came over so that I could hear the heartbeat. I didn't post about when I was spotting a teeny bit and felt like I was going to puke I was so upset and I (again) called the midwives, only to realize later than it wasn't even coming from the right area for anything to be wrong. I didn't post about the horrible dream I had where I went into labour at 20 weeks and was so excited until I realized that the baby wouldn't be able to survive and that he was lost to me. Posting about these things makes them too real. So I continue on merrily, posting happy news that I figure people are more likely to want to read anyway.
And so you probably have the perception that I am perfectly, incandescently happy and that nothing is more natural and easy than my being pregnant. I guess I felt the need to post this because I want people to understand me a little when I'm hung up over seemingly unimportant things, or when I kinda shaft you and don't talk pregnancy very well at times, or when I'm inexplicably excited that I've reached the 30 week mark because the chance of having a normal baby spikes at that point (one more week!)
I probably seem like a bit of a yoyo. One moment I'm fine and another I'm not. I try to hide it (I know Matt sees it, but he's used to me. ) I'm sorry if I get over-sensitive about things or if I talk too much about being pregnant. It's just crazy Holly trying to sort out her disorganized mind where everything good, bad and ugly is concerned.
Please know that I am so very very happy and amazed and feeling very blessed, but that I'm also still rather scared and healing from the scars of trying to have kids and being thwarted on every side. I'm sure I'll get over myself eventually.
Oh, and just in case you're interested, here are some of the blogs I like to read (**edit - I deleted the blog links a couple years after-the-fact. Some were outdated, and some I've just...stopped liking. Call me disenchanted, if you will.**)
Well, would you believe that I feel better than I did at the start of my post? Often expressing my emotions only gets me more worked up and entrenched in the feelings I have, but not so today. Posting the blogs I read allowed me to step back and recognize the strength of others, and that I, too, have strength that I underestimate at times.
I'm grateful to have gone through what I have, and I like myself and the person I've become through the trials I've faced. I like to think I'm better at understanding others' pain because I've been there and it sucks. I *hope* that I've learned through my trials, anyway, because if I haven't, what was the point?
Anyway, I'm going to sign off of here and get out of my pyjamas, as it's almost lunch time.
Friday, October 23, 2009
Day to day
Just a few things have excited me the last couple days.
First, Stake Women's Day tomorrow. Apart from enjoying the day for what it is, I'm looking forward to going pregnant this year. That's because it was at 2 separate Stake Women's Days where I was asked if I was pregnant when I wasn't. One of the women had the audacity to say she thought I was because my cheeks were puffy (note: I had gained about 25 lb's...) although she's from a completely different culture and can't be held as accountable for saying culturally inappropriate things. I kinda got off easy actually; at another time she said to one of my friends that she (my friend) must be having a girl, because girls steal all your beauty (!!!)
Another thing that was pretty exciting was getting an oil change today. I know, how boring is my life? The oil change itself was nothing special, but the sticker they put on the inside window said that we were due for another oil change on January 23rd, and I almost jumped out of the seat when I realized that is after the baby is due. Hurray!
Then there was the discovery that Time Out for Women is coming to my area again in May. I'm SO looking forward to it, it was great the last time I went, and I loved seeing people I hardly ever get to see. I'm hoping and hoping and hoping that the team that John Bytheway is on is assigned to Toronto. He's my hero.
Going out for lunch today with Lily and catching up with her Kelsey's style, and then going out for dinner with Matthew meant I didn't have to make any food today! It also probably meant I ate at least twice the amount of calories I should eat in a day. Sorry baby! I'm curious to know if he'll be a chunker because of my liking for fatty foods. Don't worry though, I had chicken instead of steak, vegetables instead of fries (at dinner...I still had fries at lunch!) and I had a salad with my lunch. I'm not totally going off the deep end. Actually, my face looks thinner now being pregnant than it looked prepregnancy. Go figure (get it? Hahaha...okay, not very funny, I know.)
Anyway, that's all! Not that nothing else has excited me, but those things stick out.
I'm looking forward to this weekend, mainly because it'll mean the primary presentation will be done until next year. ***huge sigh of relief*** It's really not that bad, and everything went really well last Sunday for rehearsing, but I just stress about things, you know? Life feels weird when there's nothing to stress about. Happy and free, but weird.
I'm going to wrap this up now and relax a bit, in hopes that this sinus headache goes away before bedtime tonight. Sleep has been...awkward lately. Sometimes I'll wake up in the night and will be falling back asleep when I'll jolt myself awake and think, "was I just breathing or not???" because my nose is so stuffed and I sleep with my nouth closed normally. Then I have to consciously work my mouth open so that I can breathe, give my nose a rest, and actually fall asleep! It's a strange sensation to say the least.
Anyway, so long for now!
First, Stake Women's Day tomorrow. Apart from enjoying the day for what it is, I'm looking forward to going pregnant this year. That's because it was at 2 separate Stake Women's Days where I was asked if I was pregnant when I wasn't. One of the women had the audacity to say she thought I was because my cheeks were puffy (note: I had gained about 25 lb's...) although she's from a completely different culture and can't be held as accountable for saying culturally inappropriate things. I kinda got off easy actually; at another time she said to one of my friends that she (my friend) must be having a girl, because girls steal all your beauty (!!!)
Another thing that was pretty exciting was getting an oil change today. I know, how boring is my life? The oil change itself was nothing special, but the sticker they put on the inside window said that we were due for another oil change on January 23rd, and I almost jumped out of the seat when I realized that is after the baby is due. Hurray!
Then there was the discovery that Time Out for Women is coming to my area again in May. I'm SO looking forward to it, it was great the last time I went, and I loved seeing people I hardly ever get to see. I'm hoping and hoping and hoping that the team that John Bytheway is on is assigned to Toronto. He's my hero.
Going out for lunch today with Lily and catching up with her Kelsey's style, and then going out for dinner with Matthew meant I didn't have to make any food today! It also probably meant I ate at least twice the amount of calories I should eat in a day. Sorry baby! I'm curious to know if he'll be a chunker because of my liking for fatty foods. Don't worry though, I had chicken instead of steak, vegetables instead of fries (at dinner...I still had fries at lunch!) and I had a salad with my lunch. I'm not totally going off the deep end. Actually, my face looks thinner now being pregnant than it looked prepregnancy. Go figure (get it? Hahaha...okay, not very funny, I know.)
Anyway, that's all! Not that nothing else has excited me, but those things stick out.
I'm looking forward to this weekend, mainly because it'll mean the primary presentation will be done until next year. ***huge sigh of relief*** It's really not that bad, and everything went really well last Sunday for rehearsing, but I just stress about things, you know? Life feels weird when there's nothing to stress about. Happy and free, but weird.
I'm going to wrap this up now and relax a bit, in hopes that this sinus headache goes away before bedtime tonight. Sleep has been...awkward lately. Sometimes I'll wake up in the night and will be falling back asleep when I'll jolt myself awake and think, "was I just breathing or not???" because my nose is so stuffed and I sleep with my nouth closed normally. Then I have to consciously work my mouth open so that I can breathe, give my nose a rest, and actually fall asleep! It's a strange sensation to say the least.
Anyway, so long for now!
Wednesday, October 21, 2009
Midwife appointment
Hey! So not a very long post today (I think. Let's see how it turns out when all is said and done!)
I just got home from my midwife appointment, and it went well. I learned some things and we celebrated the fact that I'm going every other week now. My next appointment is a Tuesday, so less than 2 weeks! YAY.
First I learned that the reason my inner ankles have been feeling so bruised is because of the extra fluids there, pressing on everything. It makes sense, right? Because bruises are blood pooled under the surface of your skin, and this is essentially the same thing, minus the cool colouring of a bruise (because the fluid is essentially water.) I wish they looked bruised, because I have this thing where I hate when things hurt but don't look like they hurt. People never really believe you unless you have an inpressive purple, black and blue something-or-other to show off. But whatev.
I also asked what to do about my shoe situation. Right now it's so nice out...15 degrees celsius (which is about 60 degrees fahrenheit for you American-minded folks) and I've been getting away with a sweater (no coat!) and flipflops. I don't think I'll get away with flipflops in January though, so I was kinda excited when my midwife told me I need to go out and get a pair of shoes (because of the swelling.) Only kinda excited though. She said that a lot of the time your shoe size goes up permanently after you've delivered, so I'll go from being a not-so-small 8 1/2 to something bigger. Sad. Why can't my feet be these dainty little things that are so cute to look at? Oh, because then I'd fall over. Right. You know what? I'm just going to be grateful I have feet. Because some people don't!
Oh! Here's something that thrilled me completely. First, having morphene does not constitute a transfer of care from the mw to a doctor (I hoped as much, but now I know.) So bring on the needles to the butt. Also, I learned that a spinal is quick and painless. Like, it doesn't have to be done during a contraction, it doesn't last 1/2 an hour, it pretty much is 100 times better than an epidural, in my opinion. Apart from the needle to the spine. Ick! But really, they wipe down the back, poke around a bit, the needle goes in, the anaesthesia is injected, the needle is out. Just like that. So maybe I won't have to be knocked out if I have a c-section afterall!
I was asking about why I'm carrying "small" or rather, why I'm not huge right now, and my mw reassured me that women who carry "small" usually have a really good pelvis that the baby is fitting into nicely, which is why they're not sticking out as much. That made me feel good. Also, this muscle pain I've been having in the pelvic region is good too because it shows that my pelvis is already loosening (and the two sides are rubbing against eachother, hence the muscle pain) and that THAT makes for an easier delivery too. Fingers are crossed.
So then she poked and prodded my belly a bit, and figured out the the baby is head-down already. Not that it means a huge amount at this point, because he can turn, but it's still exciting to know. Then she measured me, and...I'm measuring big again! I'm 28 weeks, so I should be 28 cm, but apparently I'm 29 or 30. Not that this means I'm ahead though, it just means they won't push my duedate back based on the measurements. Actually, she said, "Is your man tall?" (I love this woman!) and I acknowledged that he is. I mean, he's his daddy's son, and one of the G Family. How could he be anything BUT tall? So perhaps the measuring big is because I have a tall boy in there. I like to think so.
Then she found the heartrate right away (one benefit of knowing what position the baby is in) and it was in the mid 140's. I love hearing it.
That's pretty much it though. I'm a bit of a talker (especially when I come in with a list of questions and concerns) so I feel bad because I always go a bit over, but they never seem to mind.
Phew! Okay, so it's not a completely short post, but it's comparatively short, if you look at my last few posts. And I did practically promise an update yesterday, so here it is! Enjoy. :D
I just got home from my midwife appointment, and it went well. I learned some things and we celebrated the fact that I'm going every other week now. My next appointment is a Tuesday, so less than 2 weeks! YAY.
First I learned that the reason my inner ankles have been feeling so bruised is because of the extra fluids there, pressing on everything. It makes sense, right? Because bruises are blood pooled under the surface of your skin, and this is essentially the same thing, minus the cool colouring of a bruise (because the fluid is essentially water.) I wish they looked bruised, because I have this thing where I hate when things hurt but don't look like they hurt. People never really believe you unless you have an inpressive purple, black and blue something-or-other to show off. But whatev.
I also asked what to do about my shoe situation. Right now it's so nice out...15 degrees celsius (which is about 60 degrees fahrenheit for you American-minded folks) and I've been getting away with a sweater (no coat!) and flipflops. I don't think I'll get away with flipflops in January though, so I was kinda excited when my midwife told me I need to go out and get a pair of shoes (because of the swelling.) Only kinda excited though. She said that a lot of the time your shoe size goes up permanently after you've delivered, so I'll go from being a not-so-small 8 1/2 to something bigger. Sad. Why can't my feet be these dainty little things that are so cute to look at? Oh, because then I'd fall over. Right. You know what? I'm just going to be grateful I have feet. Because some people don't!
Oh! Here's something that thrilled me completely. First, having morphene does not constitute a transfer of care from the mw to a doctor (I hoped as much, but now I know.) So bring on the needles to the butt. Also, I learned that a spinal is quick and painless. Like, it doesn't have to be done during a contraction, it doesn't last 1/2 an hour, it pretty much is 100 times better than an epidural, in my opinion. Apart from the needle to the spine. Ick! But really, they wipe down the back, poke around a bit, the needle goes in, the anaesthesia is injected, the needle is out. Just like that. So maybe I won't have to be knocked out if I have a c-section afterall!
I was asking about why I'm carrying "small" or rather, why I'm not huge right now, and my mw reassured me that women who carry "small" usually have a really good pelvis that the baby is fitting into nicely, which is why they're not sticking out as much. That made me feel good. Also, this muscle pain I've been having in the pelvic region is good too because it shows that my pelvis is already loosening (and the two sides are rubbing against eachother, hence the muscle pain) and that THAT makes for an easier delivery too. Fingers are crossed.
So then she poked and prodded my belly a bit, and figured out the the baby is head-down already. Not that it means a huge amount at this point, because he can turn, but it's still exciting to know. Then she measured me, and...I'm measuring big again! I'm 28 weeks, so I should be 28 cm, but apparently I'm 29 or 30. Not that this means I'm ahead though, it just means they won't push my duedate back based on the measurements. Actually, she said, "Is your man tall?" (I love this woman!) and I acknowledged that he is. I mean, he's his daddy's son, and one of the G Family. How could he be anything BUT tall? So perhaps the measuring big is because I have a tall boy in there. I like to think so.
Then she found the heartrate right away (one benefit of knowing what position the baby is in) and it was in the mid 140's. I love hearing it.
That's pretty much it though. I'm a bit of a talker (especially when I come in with a list of questions and concerns) so I feel bad because I always go a bit over, but they never seem to mind.
Phew! Okay, so it's not a completely short post, but it's comparatively short, if you look at my last few posts. And I did practically promise an update yesterday, so here it is! Enjoy. :D
Tuesday, October 20, 2009
Technology sucks, but I still won in the end.
I have to start out this post by noting the ridiculous amount of time it has taken me to bring it to you, my readers, this day.
First, there was the video. I think I sat in my chair for a good 2 or 3 hours between yesterday and today, camera at the ready, waiting and waiting and WAITING for this baby to kick regularly enough for me to catch it on camera. I got a number of segments that were a few minutes long and had the baby kicking a couple times.
Then, as Matthew was busy this lunch hour, I took it upon myself to take my own update photo. We'll see how it looks in the end, because it's really hard to know if the focusing is alright when I'm not standing in front of the camera, but am setting the self-timer (behind the camera.) I had to take a lot of photos because I didn't know where to stand, what I should pull back, tuck in, etc etc. It probably took me another 30 minutes.
Then I decided to make a video of all the little clips where the baby is kicking, so that you don't have to sit through 15 minutes of footage to see 5 or 6 kicks. Aren't I so nice? The video ended up being less than a minute long, which kinda bums me out after all the work, but I think it's pretty cool, nonetheless.
Anyway, the making of the video was the world's biggest pain. My videos were not in a format Windows Movie Maker recognizes, so I had to download a converter, convert each one (sorry, the trial version I downloaded put watermarks on the middle of all the videos. Oh well.) and then work on putting it together. Then I had to save it. Sounds simple, right? Except I unwittingly saved it as the wrong file type. Then I made a youtube account (just for you lovely readers) and tried uploading the video. Matt said it would take 5-10 minutes to process. I waited (patiently, I might add!) for over 30 minutes. Then I clued in that the file type was wrong. Then I explored WMM and thought I figured out how to make it the right file type. I didn't. I tried again. SUCCESS!! So I upload it. It still takes forever. I try it another time because it's going too slow. The other time works, but then the video won't play. Delete those ones off of youtube (because if I try to upload it again, it'll say it's a duplicate. I KNOW.) Upload again. And again. And again. It finally worked at 4:45. Total amount of time for the video fiasco? 3 hours. All because I love you readers.
Then around 7:45 I start fiddling with my camera, trying to upload my pictures to my computer. I have a new computer with Vista, which does NOT have the handy dandy Microsoft Scanner and Camera Wizard. I've been dragging and dropping each individual photo onto my desktop. I think, "There has to be some easier way!" I investigate on some forums. I download Windows Live Photo Gallery. Works like a charm, until half way through importing my pictures, the battery on my camera dies, halting the process.
I holler "ARRRRG!!!" at the top of my lungs, and think to myself, "I hope this baby doesn't have anger management issues because of me..."
I stomp out to the car, get Matthew's camera, steal his battery, put it into my camera, and away we go. Starting the whole importing process all over again.
Which brings us to now, as I've been writing this while Windows does its thing with the importing. Total time spent this evening on camera/picture stuff? 1 hour, 30 minutes.
Total time spent between yesterday and today, just to bring you 2 photos and one 1-minute video? Umm...7 hours. If I low-ball it.
Things that have gone completely undone today, as all I've done is fiddle with technology? Apple sauce I was going to make, vacuuming, laundry, dinner for my man, at least one phone call I was supposed to make, bed being made, the list goes on.
And oh my heck, I JUST go back to Windows Live Video Gallery and discover that it's just not importing my pictures, and that it had nothing to do with my battery copping out on me! The hilarious part is that I'm now back to doing what I usually do to import photos using the useless, non-existent photo-importing function that is Windows Vista: dragging and dropping each individual photo onto my desktop. AHHHHHHHHH!!!!
Life feels just a little comical right now!
It hasn't been a bad day though. I've learned how to make videos on Windows Movie Maker so next time that'll take me no time at all. I've also got Windows Live Photo Gallery which I'll figure out some other day and make it work beautifully. I can tell it'll be a nice program (when it starts recognizing my photos as the wonderful photos they are.) I've gone for a walk with Matt, wrote in my journal, had the missionaries over, emailed some friends and made plans with them (hurray!) read my scriptures, and enjoyed being pregnant. Which is what this post was really about.
So. Pregnancy stuff.
Well, today I am 28 weeks and I'm very excited. I've noticed that's becoming more and more frequent, and that each passing week feels like a new milestone. Also, now is when I start seeing the midwife every other week, rather than every 4 weeks. I'll be doing that until 36 weeks, at which point I'll start going in every week. Crazy happenings. I feel like this is where everything picks up and really nears the end. I know, I know, every day that passes brings me closer to the end (or the beginning!) but it's starting to feel close, that's all.
I have a midwife appointment tomorrow, so if there's anything interesting to post about after that, then I'll write tomorrow late morning. I find many things interesting though, so expect a post.
Until then, I'm going to wow you with all the stuff that I have been diligently working away at, in anticipation for this blog post.
First, a new belly shot:
It took a lot of self-control to wait the 2 weeks before taking another belly shot. I feel like it has grown so much and is really popping out. The odd thing is, when you look at the comparison shot, it doesn't look that much different. Here's the comparison:
That's comparing today (28w 1d) to 2 weeks ago (26w 1d). See what I mean about the difference though? It's not that astounding. Not nearly as big as I thought it'd be. Maybe it's because I figured out how to pull my shirt right, so that it showed my shape better. Maybe it's because I discovered a new way of doing the arm thing so that my shape still looks nice and not hunchback and dowdy. Who knows? But rest assured, there is, indeed, a baby in there, and MAN he has been kicking constantly, proving to me he's still there and very much alive.
Oh, just in case you're interested, here is a 6 week comparison shot, dating from 22 weeks, 24 weeks, 26 weeks and 28 weeks.
Yikes, that's way smaller than I thought it'd be. You'll have to click on it to see it better.
I also took a new silhouette photo today, as the last one I took was at 18 weeks. Here it is:
I'm happy with how it turned out, although perhaps it'd be nicer if the background was brighter. I'd throw open the curtains, but we have two evergreens that are seriously fighting to take over our front window. We can see through 1 foot of the more than 3 feet wide window! Needless to say, they're coming down in the spring.
Anyway, I'm going to finish up this post with my video that I made. Here's hoping it'll actually load properly to my blog! Goodness knows everything else has worked against me today. Here goes nothing.
[youtube http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5qPOVNwo-f0&hl=en&fs=1&rel=0]
So far so good! Okay, so I know I don't have to write my commentary like this because if it doesn't work I can just go back and change what I wrote, but isn't life more fun this way?
Anyway, I'm going to bed now. I'm sick of technology and would really love to just go to sleep and forget it all for a while! I'm praying that I don't start dreaming of computers and cameras chasing me with their jaws wide open...
First, there was the video. I think I sat in my chair for a good 2 or 3 hours between yesterday and today, camera at the ready, waiting and waiting and WAITING for this baby to kick regularly enough for me to catch it on camera. I got a number of segments that were a few minutes long and had the baby kicking a couple times.
Then, as Matthew was busy this lunch hour, I took it upon myself to take my own update photo. We'll see how it looks in the end, because it's really hard to know if the focusing is alright when I'm not standing in front of the camera, but am setting the self-timer (behind the camera.) I had to take a lot of photos because I didn't know where to stand, what I should pull back, tuck in, etc etc. It probably took me another 30 minutes.
Then I decided to make a video of all the little clips where the baby is kicking, so that you don't have to sit through 15 minutes of footage to see 5 or 6 kicks. Aren't I so nice? The video ended up being less than a minute long, which kinda bums me out after all the work, but I think it's pretty cool, nonetheless.
Anyway, the making of the video was the world's biggest pain. My videos were not in a format Windows Movie Maker recognizes, so I had to download a converter, convert each one (sorry, the trial version I downloaded put watermarks on the middle of all the videos. Oh well.) and then work on putting it together. Then I had to save it. Sounds simple, right? Except I unwittingly saved it as the wrong file type. Then I made a youtube account (just for you lovely readers) and tried uploading the video. Matt said it would take 5-10 minutes to process. I waited (patiently, I might add!) for over 30 minutes. Then I clued in that the file type was wrong. Then I explored WMM and thought I figured out how to make it the right file type. I didn't. I tried again. SUCCESS!! So I upload it. It still takes forever. I try it another time because it's going too slow. The other time works, but then the video won't play. Delete those ones off of youtube (because if I try to upload it again, it'll say it's a duplicate. I KNOW.) Upload again. And again. And again. It finally worked at 4:45. Total amount of time for the video fiasco? 3 hours. All because I love you readers.
Then around 7:45 I start fiddling with my camera, trying to upload my pictures to my computer. I have a new computer with Vista, which does NOT have the handy dandy Microsoft Scanner and Camera Wizard. I've been dragging and dropping each individual photo onto my desktop. I think, "There has to be some easier way!" I investigate on some forums. I download Windows Live Photo Gallery. Works like a charm, until half way through importing my pictures, the battery on my camera dies, halting the process.
I holler "ARRRRG!!!" at the top of my lungs, and think to myself, "I hope this baby doesn't have anger management issues because of me..."
I stomp out to the car, get Matthew's camera, steal his battery, put it into my camera, and away we go. Starting the whole importing process all over again.
Which brings us to now, as I've been writing this while Windows does its thing with the importing. Total time spent this evening on camera/picture stuff? 1 hour, 30 minutes.
Total time spent between yesterday and today, just to bring you 2 photos and one 1-minute video? Umm...7 hours. If I low-ball it.
Things that have gone completely undone today, as all I've done is fiddle with technology? Apple sauce I was going to make, vacuuming, laundry, dinner for my man, at least one phone call I was supposed to make, bed being made, the list goes on.
And oh my heck, I JUST go back to Windows Live Video Gallery and discover that it's just not importing my pictures, and that it had nothing to do with my battery copping out on me! The hilarious part is that I'm now back to doing what I usually do to import photos using the useless, non-existent photo-importing function that is Windows Vista: dragging and dropping each individual photo onto my desktop. AHHHHHHHHH!!!!
Life feels just a little comical right now!
It hasn't been a bad day though. I've learned how to make videos on Windows Movie Maker so next time that'll take me no time at all. I've also got Windows Live Photo Gallery which I'll figure out some other day and make it work beautifully. I can tell it'll be a nice program (when it starts recognizing my photos as the wonderful photos they are.) I've gone for a walk with Matt, wrote in my journal, had the missionaries over, emailed some friends and made plans with them (hurray!) read my scriptures, and enjoyed being pregnant. Which is what this post was really about.
So. Pregnancy stuff.
Well, today I am 28 weeks and I'm very excited. I've noticed that's becoming more and more frequent, and that each passing week feels like a new milestone. Also, now is when I start seeing the midwife every other week, rather than every 4 weeks. I'll be doing that until 36 weeks, at which point I'll start going in every week. Crazy happenings. I feel like this is where everything picks up and really nears the end. I know, I know, every day that passes brings me closer to the end (or the beginning!) but it's starting to feel close, that's all.
I have a midwife appointment tomorrow, so if there's anything interesting to post about after that, then I'll write tomorrow late morning. I find many things interesting though, so expect a post.
Until then, I'm going to wow you with all the stuff that I have been diligently working away at, in anticipation for this blog post.
First, a new belly shot:
It took a lot of self-control to wait the 2 weeks before taking another belly shot. I feel like it has grown so much and is really popping out. The odd thing is, when you look at the comparison shot, it doesn't look that much different. Here's the comparison:
That's comparing today (28w 1d) to 2 weeks ago (26w 1d). See what I mean about the difference though? It's not that astounding. Not nearly as big as I thought it'd be. Maybe it's because I figured out how to pull my shirt right, so that it showed my shape better. Maybe it's because I discovered a new way of doing the arm thing so that my shape still looks nice and not hunchback and dowdy. Who knows? But rest assured, there is, indeed, a baby in there, and MAN he has been kicking constantly, proving to me he's still there and very much alive.Oh, just in case you're interested, here is a 6 week comparison shot, dating from 22 weeks, 24 weeks, 26 weeks and 28 weeks.
Yikes, that's way smaller than I thought it'd be. You'll have to click on it to see it better.
I also took a new silhouette photo today, as the last one I took was at 18 weeks. Here it is:
I'm happy with how it turned out, although perhaps it'd be nicer if the background was brighter. I'd throw open the curtains, but we have two evergreens that are seriously fighting to take over our front window. We can see through 1 foot of the more than 3 feet wide window! Needless to say, they're coming down in the spring.Anyway, I'm going to finish up this post with my video that I made. Here's hoping it'll actually load properly to my blog! Goodness knows everything else has worked against me today. Here goes nothing.
[youtube http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5qPOVNwo-f0&hl=en&fs=1&rel=0]
So far so good! Okay, so I know I don't have to write my commentary like this because if it doesn't work I can just go back and change what I wrote, but isn't life more fun this way?
Anyway, I'm going to bed now. I'm sick of technology and would really love to just go to sleep and forget it all for a while! I'm praying that I don't start dreaming of computers and cameras chasing me with their jaws wide open...
Sunday, October 18, 2009
5 years of bliss
If you know me, you know I love and remember dates. I can't explain why, but my mind just catalogs things that way. Like if something special or out of the ordinary has happened, rather quickly my mind will go, "What's the date today?" and there, it's stored in my long-term memory. I remember all sorts of stupid things, like Dump Day (July 18th) Peter's Day (April 10th) old boyfriends birthdays (not going to go there...hahaha) even the date I got my period for the first time (Mar. 25...sorry to all the boys who are reading this.) I remember good dates too, though. The day I was introduced to the church, the day I got baptized, the day Matthew and I started dating (July 17), heck, the day we went on our very first date (Oct. 15), the day we got in to the fertility clinic (Dec. 7), the day we got Pippin (Dec. 8) and Merry (June 11), and so on. All sorts of good things happening throughout the year.
The 18th of October is one of those good dates that I just remember.
Today, 5 years ago, Matthew knelt down and asked me to be his wife and eternal companion. He already knew the answer, we had talked about getting married already, but it wasn't "official" until the evening of October 18th, 2004. I was so happy, it just seemed impossible to contain it all. I had already been one of the happiest girls alive, ever since we had started dating a few months previously, but this sealed the deal. Complete bliss. It couldn't get any better.
But it has!! I love life. It's so good that way. I love the way love and happiness grow and that you really are capable of being happier than the happiest moment you can remember. It's a different sort of happiness, of course, but it's great. I wouldn't trade it for anything.
And so, that being said, here are the lyrics to "You're My Best Friend," by Queen. It always makes me think of Matt and I just want to pay him a little tribute on this day that is so special to me.
The 18th of October is one of those good dates that I just remember.
Today, 5 years ago, Matthew knelt down and asked me to be his wife and eternal companion. He already knew the answer, we had talked about getting married already, but it wasn't "official" until the evening of October 18th, 2004. I was so happy, it just seemed impossible to contain it all. I had already been one of the happiest girls alive, ever since we had started dating a few months previously, but this sealed the deal. Complete bliss. It couldn't get any better.
But it has!! I love life. It's so good that way. I love the way love and happiness grow and that you really are capable of being happier than the happiest moment you can remember. It's a different sort of happiness, of course, but it's great. I wouldn't trade it for anything.
And so, that being said, here are the lyrics to "You're My Best Friend," by Queen. It always makes me think of Matt and I just want to pay him a little tribute on this day that is so special to me.
Ooh you make me live
Whatever this world can give to me
It's you you're all I see
Ooo you make me live now honey
Ooo you make me live
Ooh you're the best friend that I ever had
I've been with you such a long time
You're my sunshine and I want you to know
That my feelings are true
I really love you
Oh you're my best friend
Ooo you make me live
Ooh I've been wandering round
But I still come back to you
In rain or shine
You've stood by me, boy
I'm happy, happy at home
You're my best friend
Ooo you make me live
Whenever this world is cruel to me
I got you to help me forgive
Ooo you make me live now honey
Ooo you make me live
You're the first one
When things turn out bad
You know I'll never be lonely
You're my only one
And I love the things
I really love the things that you do
You're my best friend
Ooo you make me live
I'm happy at home
You're my best friend
Oh ya
Oh you're my best friend
Ooo you make me live
You you're my best friend.
(one of our many engagement photos)
Whatever this world can give to me
It's you you're all I see
Ooo you make me live now honey
Ooo you make me live
Ooh you're the best friend that I ever had
I've been with you such a long time
You're my sunshine and I want you to know
That my feelings are true
I really love you
Oh you're my best friend
Ooo you make me live
Ooh I've been wandering round
But I still come back to you
In rain or shine
You've stood by me, boy
I'm happy, happy at home
You're my best friend
Ooo you make me live
Whenever this world is cruel to me
I got you to help me forgive
Ooo you make me live now honey
Ooo you make me live
You're the first one
When things turn out bad
You know I'll never be lonely
You're my only one
And I love the things
I really love the things that you do
You're my best friend
Ooo you make me live
I'm happy at home
You're my best friend
Oh ya
Oh you're my best friend
Ooo you make me live
You you're my best friend.
(one of our many engagement photos)Thursday, October 15, 2009
How does it feel?
So I know I'm *sortof* posting twice in one day, but in my own defence, the other post that is dated Monday the 12th was 95% written that day, and finished today. Admittedly, not much has changed from Monday to Thursday, but I just feel that life is good and I want to talk about it.
The thing that has me most excited right now is the judge ruling in the R Family's favour. Remember me talking about how she might lose her baby because the birthfather was taking them to court? Well, step one in the let's-make-this-family-eternal legal process has been completed. The birthfather can still appeal (and probably will) but still. Big step, and it gives me thrills. THRILLS I tell you!
Another thing that has occupied my mind of late is (not surprisingly) the baby (meaning my little kicker, and not the R Family's baby.) When I was going in to the one craft show on Saturday there was this woman with a little teeny adorable baby, who had a gaggle of admirers around her. He looked so cute and newborn that it really threw me when she said he was born at 2.5 lb's, and wasn't even due until the end of this month. AH! So that got me thinking. How far along would she have been, to have delivered him when he only weighed 2.5 lb's? So I looked it up on my trusty internet (the answer to all my questions, and the source of many of my concerns...haha). Do you know how far along she had to have been? Probably around 28 weeks. I'd say 29 at most.
Right now, I'm 27 weeks and 3 days along. It'd pretty much be me delivering in a week. Or less. AH again!
I don't want to deliver this baby that early. I feel reassured that he will be carried to full term, and that I don't need to worry about this. I'm NOT worried (just in case you're wondering...ha) but I feel completely engrossed by the fact that my baby *could* be born any day, and has, like, a 90% chance of survival. It makes my mind mush to consider even being a new mom 3 months from now, let alone a week. How am I going to do it? Part of me feels like it'll just be natural and exciting and another part of me feels like it'll be foreign and impossible.
Which kindof brings me to what I was really going to post on today.
Oh, as an aside, something just started to smell like McDonalds french fries, and now I want some. Gross, but true. And......now the smell is gone, but the desire for fries lingers. Curse you nose!
Sorry, sidetracked yet again.
In the past week I saw a friend of mine who I haven't seen in a little while. I love her to bits and it was fun to catch up with her. While we were talking, she asked me a question that I've been stewing over, and it wasn't even meant to stump me, but it completely has. At least, it's taken some time to formulate some semblance of an answer. Here was her question:
"What does being pregnant feel like?"
Do you think I'm crazy, or can you begin to imagine why that would be difficult to answer?
Fortunately for me, someone distracted her for a moment and I was saved from stumbling through a response that likely wouldn't have come close to saying it's felt like to be pregnant. But the question has sat in my head for days, and I think I'm going to try to answer. But first I will reword the question to:
"What does being pregnant feel like to you??"
Because I've always resolved to not be an expert on something I've experienced less than 30 times. I'm sure what I say would strike a cord with some people and be completely contradicted by others. I can only speak from my own (still very limited, not even full-term) experience.
So here we go.
The biggest feeling until lately has been surreality. I HAVE to post about my thoughts and feelings and experiences on it because it makes it a little bit more real. I'm sure it's normal to be in complete denial that your life is about to change drastically because you really have no idea what's coming, but I feel a little more entitled to denial than other people who I will call Fertile Frannies.
Infertility really makes you change the way you think about things, blessings included. In a way I feel like this can't be happening to me, like I won't experience labour and delivery and a newborn baby. I guess it's because when we were trying and then adopting, I had to admit that I wouldn't experience these things and that that was okay. I told myself that my experience would be different so often that I believed it (I mean, why wouldn't I believe it?) and I had accepted that parenthood would be different for me. Now I need to convince myself all over again that it'll be different, and I've been given 8 months to do so, rather than 3 1/2 years.
So anyway, there's the surreality.
At the same time (and completely contradicting what I just said) there's the reality. The miracle, and excitement. It feels...wonderful (closest I can come) when the baby kicks. HARD. And pushes my ribs. And makes it so I can't breathe very well. I just want to smile and smile and SMILE. I know Matthew is excited too, but I think I'm more consumed with it. I want to do EVERYthing now. I want to talk about names. I want the room in order. I want all the stuff in the room (if you people only knew how hard it is to NOT go out and buy everything!) Basically, I want everything physically here in front of me so I can rejoice in it because, hey, this is really happening! A baby is coming, and look, I have the nursery to prove it. It's a boy so I'm buying boy clothes, and hey I've had the ultrasound to prove it. There's a creature (a 'parasite' as Rachelle calls it) growing inside of me, and I (finally! haha) have the side effects to prove it.
That's another thing; the physical aspect of what it 'feels like' for me to be pregnant. I'm 6 months (almost 6 and a half!) along and all the pregnancy things I'd avoided before are starting to catch up to me. Not in a bad way, just in an, "I'm starting to FEEL pregnant" way. It's tiring (though that could partly be because of my low iron) and it's starting to hurt to lean forwards when sitting. Also, getting up when I'm sitting is a little annoying and I really appreciate being able to sit after walking for an hour. I'm uber breathless (also likely a side-effect of the low iron) and I avoid doing stairs if I don't have to. I go pee more often, and when I try to hold it in the middle of the night, it really only lasts an hour before I jump out of bed and get to the bathroom before peeing my pants. Cat naps are becoming wonderful (and increasingly frequent) things, even if I've slept in until 9am. Oh, yeah, I almost forgot about sleep. Sleep is hard because my joints hurt. A lot. Mostly my lower back and legs, and sometimes I feel sharp pains in my butt. I wake up once or twice an hour to roll over, but then I can't breathe because my nose is stuffy and the clear side is now blocked by the pillow. Oh, and as for cravings, they're not nearly as desperate as what the movies led me to believe. I won't die if you don't get me dill pickles STAT, but it makes my day when Matt comes home with blueberry yogurt or cucumber.
Hmm...I think that's about it for the physical stuff though. I think I've been very blessed with a healthy, uneventful pregnancy. I'm feeling all these pregnancy things, but none of them are really that bad, not even to the point of complaining. I guess that's why I avoid telling people my aches and pains when they ask. Because, no matter how I word it (optimistically, jokingly, whatever!) they always manage to turn it around into something bad that I have every right to complain about. I don't want to complain. I think it's WONDERFUL. I love feeling pregnant. Every bit of it. Even the stuff that keeps me up at night.
It makes me giggle a little to think about the way my body is reacting to this parasite leaching off of me (haha Rachelle, you crack me up!) and to be honest, I think it's all incredible. Why would I complain? Besides, there's an end to it. Even if I had to be put on bed-rest, "this too shall pass," and it'll pass faster than a hundred other things I've experienced. And not only that, there's a light at the end of the tunnel. Not only deliverance from something taxing, but the blessing of something joyous at the journey's end.
When I was 13 I had a bad back problem that caused a lot of pain. A friend of mine tried to tell me yesterday that childbirth hurt more than my back problem did, but I don't believe her...yet. I mean, she never experienced the back spasms and constant ache of an infection eating through your bone, and I've never experienced childbirth, but (dare I say it?) I'm looking forward to being able to compare the two. It's my opinion that childbirth will be the more bearable of the two. Not necessarily less painful, but more bearable, because there is a clear end to it. It'll last a limited amount of time, it'll happen with a group of people around who are trained to ease the easily identifiable source of my discomfort, and (the best part yet) there is a reward at the end for suffering such pain.
When my back started spasming (is that a real word?) for the first time, I was home alone. I had NO idea what was going on, and I was scared. I tried bending over to pick up the phone but as soon as I bent over the pain in my back intensified, I dropped the phone, and all I could do was walk around and scream in pain, clutching my back, with no-one to help. Terrifying, to say the least. It happened a number of times after that, and thankfully none of the other times was I by myself, but it was awful. I didn't know what was happening, my loved ones didn't know, DOCTORS didn't even know, for Pete's sake, and there was no light. No way to make it hurt less, or keep it from happening again. No predictability, no graph showing you when the next one was coming or when this one would be over. Sometimes it would spasm for an hour solid before finally tapering off. It was like those leg spasms that you get, but in my back and shooting down my thighs. Like the muscle was being pulled backwards from my body. O-U-C-H.
So if you ask me (right now) which I'd prefer, I'd take childbirth. Even without pain meds. Call me crazy, and maybe I'll change my mind later, but there you have it.
Am I afraid of childbirth? Yes. But I'm trying not to be, because fear will only make it worse, and I feel convinced that my body was made to handle this, that it's something I can and will get through, and that it's something I'd do again for the sake of the reward at the end. But that's just how I feel.
WOW. Can you tell I had an afternoon free to myself, to think, ponder, and write? But now you know how I feel about it all (in case you were actually wondering!) I don't think my friend would have been anticipating that long, drawn-out response to her seemingly simple question, but I just felt like writing it out. Putting it out there to the online world, to whoever would actually be curious to know my completely self-absorbed answer. I'm no expert (heaven forbid!) and I'm not even an expert of my own experience because it hasn't finished yet (thank goodness) but, in the thick of things, this is how I'm feeling. My thoughts on this crazy, roller-coaster of an experience called maternity and impending parenthood.
Oh, I forgot one big thing I feel, being pregnant with this little miracle boy.
I feel happy.
The thing that has me most excited right now is the judge ruling in the R Family's favour. Remember me talking about how she might lose her baby because the birthfather was taking them to court? Well, step one in the let's-make-this-family-eternal legal process has been completed. The birthfather can still appeal (and probably will) but still. Big step, and it gives me thrills. THRILLS I tell you!
Another thing that has occupied my mind of late is (not surprisingly) the baby (meaning my little kicker, and not the R Family's baby.) When I was going in to the one craft show on Saturday there was this woman with a little teeny adorable baby, who had a gaggle of admirers around her. He looked so cute and newborn that it really threw me when she said he was born at 2.5 lb's, and wasn't even due until the end of this month. AH! So that got me thinking. How far along would she have been, to have delivered him when he only weighed 2.5 lb's? So I looked it up on my trusty internet (the answer to all my questions, and the source of many of my concerns...haha). Do you know how far along she had to have been? Probably around 28 weeks. I'd say 29 at most.
Right now, I'm 27 weeks and 3 days along. It'd pretty much be me delivering in a week. Or less. AH again!
I don't want to deliver this baby that early. I feel reassured that he will be carried to full term, and that I don't need to worry about this. I'm NOT worried (just in case you're wondering...ha) but I feel completely engrossed by the fact that my baby *could* be born any day, and has, like, a 90% chance of survival. It makes my mind mush to consider even being a new mom 3 months from now, let alone a week. How am I going to do it? Part of me feels like it'll just be natural and exciting and another part of me feels like it'll be foreign and impossible.
Which kindof brings me to what I was really going to post on today.
Oh, as an aside, something just started to smell like McDonalds french fries, and now I want some. Gross, but true. And......now the smell is gone, but the desire for fries lingers. Curse you nose!
Sorry, sidetracked yet again.
In the past week I saw a friend of mine who I haven't seen in a little while. I love her to bits and it was fun to catch up with her. While we were talking, she asked me a question that I've been stewing over, and it wasn't even meant to stump me, but it completely has. At least, it's taken some time to formulate some semblance of an answer. Here was her question:
"What does being pregnant feel like?"
Do you think I'm crazy, or can you begin to imagine why that would be difficult to answer?
Fortunately for me, someone distracted her for a moment and I was saved from stumbling through a response that likely wouldn't have come close to saying it's felt like to be pregnant. But the question has sat in my head for days, and I think I'm going to try to answer. But first I will reword the question to:
"What does being pregnant feel like to you??"
Because I've always resolved to not be an expert on something I've experienced less than 30 times. I'm sure what I say would strike a cord with some people and be completely contradicted by others. I can only speak from my own (still very limited, not even full-term) experience.
So here we go.
The biggest feeling until lately has been surreality. I HAVE to post about my thoughts and feelings and experiences on it because it makes it a little bit more real. I'm sure it's normal to be in complete denial that your life is about to change drastically because you really have no idea what's coming, but I feel a little more entitled to denial than other people who I will call Fertile Frannies.
Infertility really makes you change the way you think about things, blessings included. In a way I feel like this can't be happening to me, like I won't experience labour and delivery and a newborn baby. I guess it's because when we were trying and then adopting, I had to admit that I wouldn't experience these things and that that was okay. I told myself that my experience would be different so often that I believed it (I mean, why wouldn't I believe it?) and I had accepted that parenthood would be different for me. Now I need to convince myself all over again that it'll be different, and I've been given 8 months to do so, rather than 3 1/2 years.
So anyway, there's the surreality.
At the same time (and completely contradicting what I just said) there's the reality. The miracle, and excitement. It feels...wonderful (closest I can come) when the baby kicks. HARD. And pushes my ribs. And makes it so I can't breathe very well. I just want to smile and smile and SMILE. I know Matthew is excited too, but I think I'm more consumed with it. I want to do EVERYthing now. I want to talk about names. I want the room in order. I want all the stuff in the room (if you people only knew how hard it is to NOT go out and buy everything!) Basically, I want everything physically here in front of me so I can rejoice in it because, hey, this is really happening! A baby is coming, and look, I have the nursery to prove it. It's a boy so I'm buying boy clothes, and hey I've had the ultrasound to prove it. There's a creature (a 'parasite' as Rachelle calls it) growing inside of me, and I (finally! haha) have the side effects to prove it.
That's another thing; the physical aspect of what it 'feels like' for me to be pregnant. I'm 6 months (almost 6 and a half!) along and all the pregnancy things I'd avoided before are starting to catch up to me. Not in a bad way, just in an, "I'm starting to FEEL pregnant" way. It's tiring (though that could partly be because of my low iron) and it's starting to hurt to lean forwards when sitting. Also, getting up when I'm sitting is a little annoying and I really appreciate being able to sit after walking for an hour. I'm uber breathless (also likely a side-effect of the low iron) and I avoid doing stairs if I don't have to. I go pee more often, and when I try to hold it in the middle of the night, it really only lasts an hour before I jump out of bed and get to the bathroom before peeing my pants. Cat naps are becoming wonderful (and increasingly frequent) things, even if I've slept in until 9am. Oh, yeah, I almost forgot about sleep. Sleep is hard because my joints hurt. A lot. Mostly my lower back and legs, and sometimes I feel sharp pains in my butt. I wake up once or twice an hour to roll over, but then I can't breathe because my nose is stuffy and the clear side is now blocked by the pillow. Oh, and as for cravings, they're not nearly as desperate as what the movies led me to believe. I won't die if you don't get me dill pickles STAT, but it makes my day when Matt comes home with blueberry yogurt or cucumber.
Hmm...I think that's about it for the physical stuff though. I think I've been very blessed with a healthy, uneventful pregnancy. I'm feeling all these pregnancy things, but none of them are really that bad, not even to the point of complaining. I guess that's why I avoid telling people my aches and pains when they ask. Because, no matter how I word it (optimistically, jokingly, whatever!) they always manage to turn it around into something bad that I have every right to complain about. I don't want to complain. I think it's WONDERFUL. I love feeling pregnant. Every bit of it. Even the stuff that keeps me up at night.
It makes me giggle a little to think about the way my body is reacting to this parasite leaching off of me (haha Rachelle, you crack me up!) and to be honest, I think it's all incredible. Why would I complain? Besides, there's an end to it. Even if I had to be put on bed-rest, "this too shall pass," and it'll pass faster than a hundred other things I've experienced. And not only that, there's a light at the end of the tunnel. Not only deliverance from something taxing, but the blessing of something joyous at the journey's end.
When I was 13 I had a bad back problem that caused a lot of pain. A friend of mine tried to tell me yesterday that childbirth hurt more than my back problem did, but I don't believe her...yet. I mean, she never experienced the back spasms and constant ache of an infection eating through your bone, and I've never experienced childbirth, but (dare I say it?) I'm looking forward to being able to compare the two. It's my opinion that childbirth will be the more bearable of the two. Not necessarily less painful, but more bearable, because there is a clear end to it. It'll last a limited amount of time, it'll happen with a group of people around who are trained to ease the easily identifiable source of my discomfort, and (the best part yet) there is a reward at the end for suffering such pain.
When my back started spasming (is that a real word?) for the first time, I was home alone. I had NO idea what was going on, and I was scared. I tried bending over to pick up the phone but as soon as I bent over the pain in my back intensified, I dropped the phone, and all I could do was walk around and scream in pain, clutching my back, with no-one to help. Terrifying, to say the least. It happened a number of times after that, and thankfully none of the other times was I by myself, but it was awful. I didn't know what was happening, my loved ones didn't know, DOCTORS didn't even know, for Pete's sake, and there was no light. No way to make it hurt less, or keep it from happening again. No predictability, no graph showing you when the next one was coming or when this one would be over. Sometimes it would spasm for an hour solid before finally tapering off. It was like those leg spasms that you get, but in my back and shooting down my thighs. Like the muscle was being pulled backwards from my body. O-U-C-H.
So if you ask me (right now) which I'd prefer, I'd take childbirth. Even without pain meds. Call me crazy, and maybe I'll change my mind later, but there you have it.
Am I afraid of childbirth? Yes. But I'm trying not to be, because fear will only make it worse, and I feel convinced that my body was made to handle this, that it's something I can and will get through, and that it's something I'd do again for the sake of the reward at the end. But that's just how I feel.
WOW. Can you tell I had an afternoon free to myself, to think, ponder, and write? But now you know how I feel about it all (in case you were actually wondering!) I don't think my friend would have been anticipating that long, drawn-out response to her seemingly simple question, but I just felt like writing it out. Putting it out there to the online world, to whoever would actually be curious to know my completely self-absorbed answer. I'm no expert (heaven forbid!) and I'm not even an expert of my own experience because it hasn't finished yet (thank goodness) but, in the thick of things, this is how I'm feeling. My thoughts on this crazy, roller-coaster of an experience called maternity and impending parenthood.
Oh, I forgot one big thing I feel, being pregnant with this little miracle boy.
I feel happy.
Monday, October 12, 2009
Canadian Thanksgiving
This weekend was Canadian Thanksgiving, and I'm not totally sure if we've got the right idea, or if the Americans have. I like that our Thanksgiving is when the leaves are still on the trees, but changing colours. It's beautiful outside right now (or, at least, it looks beautiful outside) and a definite plus to having Thanksgiving in October rather than November is that it's definitely warmer outside, which makes going to craft shows much more enjoyable.
At the same time though, I completely envy Americans their holiday falling on a Thursday (middle of the week holidays are so much fun!) and Black Friday. I love that they have Thanksgiving and then go out the next day and start their Christmas shopping. It's like an official kickoff to the Christmas season. If I were American, I'd set up my Christmas tree that weekend too, maybe on the Saturday. We already do set up our tree towards the end of November (artificial but oh so pretty) but it'd be fun to make it part of a holiday weekend tradition or something. As it is, we Canadians don't have any holidays in November. There's Remembrance Day, but only the banks take that day off. SAD.
Anyway, it doesn't really matter when you celebrate Thanksgiving I guess. I love that we DO celebrate Thanksgiving, as it makes me reflect on my blessings more than I normally do. I really should 'count my blessings' more often. It makes life so nice and good.
I've done a lot this weekend, so I'm going to post about some highlights. I'll do it in point-form too, in hopes that it prevents me from rambling (as much...hahaha)
-going to the temple on Friday
-going to a super craft show on Saturday with Mom G. and stocking up on my dips that I love. Oh and buying the larger bag of chocolate almond brittle to share with Matt only to discover that he doesn't like it that much, so I got to eat the whole bag. MMMMM....
-seeing Tiffany at said craft show! Having Tiffany squeal over the size of my belly...SO much fun! Having Tiffany's bf, Ryan, offer me his apple cider. I had decided to go over and get one, but he gave me his to save the walk. Nicest guy EVER. :D
-having Matthew be home when I got home Saturday. I thought he'd be working until 6, so it was such a nice surprise!
-finally getting the primary presentation under way. It relieves a lot, now that theory is being put into practice. The practice was so-so, I'm still a little stressed about it, but it's in the past, and it can only get better (right? RIGHT?!)
-gaining 5 lb's just by eating dinner at the Medwin's yesterday evening! Seriously, that was 5 lb's of food. Or maybe it was less, because their scale weighs we more than mine, but still. It was fun. And then weighing myself an hour later and noticing that I'd already dropped a lb. The food was delectable though. Cranberries...turkey...stuffing...potatoes...salad...apple pie...my mouth is watering thinking about it!
-getting to bed early last night. Waking up to Matthew tucking me in tighter with extra warm blankets this morning because he woke up at 7:45 and the thermostat said it was only 62 in the house. He's the sweetest and the best.
-Matthew being so cheerful about coming to a craft show (different one!) this morning with my mom, sister, and 2 nephews. We pretty much froze, as it was cold enough that it could snow (first time this season it's been that cold!) but it was fun.
-seeing Lily at the craft show, and making tentative, 'in the next couple week' plans to get together! It's been too long.
-hot apple cider at the craft show
-eating the most amazing chocolate caramel apple EVER (see picture below! Jealous? I thought so.)
-becoming an insta-hero in the eyes of my 2-year-old nephew Preston simply by buying him a little hand-made wooden car for $2. I can't wait to have kids and buy them fun things that make their little faces light up. Especially because kids are way less expensive to please.
-getting a bee-you-tee-full autumn wreath for my front door (also, see picture below!) I really really really like it, and I think it'll work for winter too, or at least Christmas because it's red.
-getting this sweet sign that we're going to put up in the nursery. SO excited, pictures to follow in some other post.
-making apple sauce with Matt after we got home from the craft show. Did I mention my husband is the best?
-OH! Matthew telling me how much he loves my apple sauce. I seriously didn't know, and it made my life.
-having this nice talkative vendor at the craft show ask me if I'm pregnant, and being pleased to tell him I am! I was actually surprised he could notice because I think my coat hides it a little.
-noticing how cute and fluffy Pippin is and getting to take "Pippin needs a haircut" photos of him before he gets shaved tomorrow for winter. I put a sequence of running photos below. I hope you can see them okay, but if not just click on them. He's too cute!
-going to Matthew's parent's house for another amazingly delicious turkey dinner. Having my apple sauce praised (seriously, it's never had such a warm reception!) and fighting over who got to take the leftovers home. I kinda won. Selfish. Hahahahaha
So my conclusion? Thanksgiving = The best. Almost. (I still like Christmas better!)
At the same time though, I completely envy Americans their holiday falling on a Thursday (middle of the week holidays are so much fun!) and Black Friday. I love that they have Thanksgiving and then go out the next day and start their Christmas shopping. It's like an official kickoff to the Christmas season. If I were American, I'd set up my Christmas tree that weekend too, maybe on the Saturday. We already do set up our tree towards the end of November (artificial but oh so pretty) but it'd be fun to make it part of a holiday weekend tradition or something. As it is, we Canadians don't have any holidays in November. There's Remembrance Day, but only the banks take that day off. SAD.
Anyway, it doesn't really matter when you celebrate Thanksgiving I guess. I love that we DO celebrate Thanksgiving, as it makes me reflect on my blessings more than I normally do. I really should 'count my blessings' more often. It makes life so nice and good.
I've done a lot this weekend, so I'm going to post about some highlights. I'll do it in point-form too, in hopes that it prevents me from rambling (as much...hahaha)
-going to the temple on Friday
-going to a super craft show on Saturday with Mom G. and stocking up on my dips that I love. Oh and buying the larger bag of chocolate almond brittle to share with Matt only to discover that he doesn't like it that much, so I got to eat the whole bag. MMMMM....
-seeing Tiffany at said craft show! Having Tiffany squeal over the size of my belly...SO much fun! Having Tiffany's bf, Ryan, offer me his apple cider. I had decided to go over and get one, but he gave me his to save the walk. Nicest guy EVER. :D
-having Matthew be home when I got home Saturday. I thought he'd be working until 6, so it was such a nice surprise!
-finally getting the primary presentation under way. It relieves a lot, now that theory is being put into practice. The practice was so-so, I'm still a little stressed about it, but it's in the past, and it can only get better (right? RIGHT?!)
-gaining 5 lb's just by eating dinner at the Medwin's yesterday evening! Seriously, that was 5 lb's of food. Or maybe it was less, because their scale weighs we more than mine, but still. It was fun. And then weighing myself an hour later and noticing that I'd already dropped a lb. The food was delectable though. Cranberries...turkey...stuffing...potatoes...salad...apple pie...my mouth is watering thinking about it!
-getting to bed early last night. Waking up to Matthew tucking me in tighter with extra warm blankets this morning because he woke up at 7:45 and the thermostat said it was only 62 in the house. He's the sweetest and the best.
-Matthew being so cheerful about coming to a craft show (different one!) this morning with my mom, sister, and 2 nephews. We pretty much froze, as it was cold enough that it could snow (first time this season it's been that cold!) but it was fun.
-seeing Lily at the craft show, and making tentative, 'in the next couple week' plans to get together! It's been too long.
-hot apple cider at the craft show
-eating the most amazing chocolate caramel apple EVER (see picture below! Jealous? I thought so.)
-becoming an insta-hero in the eyes of my 2-year-old nephew Preston simply by buying him a little hand-made wooden car for $2. I can't wait to have kids and buy them fun things that make their little faces light up. Especially because kids are way less expensive to please.
-getting a bee-you-tee-full autumn wreath for my front door (also, see picture below!) I really really really like it, and I think it'll work for winter too, or at least Christmas because it's red.
-getting this sweet sign that we're going to put up in the nursery. SO excited, pictures to follow in some other post.
-making apple sauce with Matt after we got home from the craft show. Did I mention my husband is the best?
-OH! Matthew telling me how much he loves my apple sauce. I seriously didn't know, and it made my life.
-having this nice talkative vendor at the craft show ask me if I'm pregnant, and being pleased to tell him I am! I was actually surprised he could notice because I think my coat hides it a little.
-noticing how cute and fluffy Pippin is and getting to take "Pippin needs a haircut" photos of him before he gets shaved tomorrow for winter. I put a sequence of running photos below. I hope you can see them okay, but if not just click on them. He's too cute!
-going to Matthew's parent's house for another amazingly delicious turkey dinner. Having my apple sauce praised (seriously, it's never had such a warm reception!) and fighting over who got to take the leftovers home. I kinda won. Selfish. Hahahahaha
So my conclusion? Thanksgiving = The best. Almost. (I still like Christmas better!)
Thursday, October 8, 2009
Vacuutopia
This week I've learned that if there's anything that needs to get done which I am procrastinating doing, I simply need to have a bad dream about it, and I will wake up feeling completely and 100% motivated to do that dreaded thing.
Take the glucose screening for example. I forgot to mention it, but I had a dream the night before I went for the glucose screening. I'd been putting the thing off for 2 weeks, and I think it was starting to eat at my mind. I had a dream where I was holding my sister's baby and she was holding mine, and we were all getting the test done, babies included. Apparently in my dream, you knew you had G.D. if you swelled up big time. So, my sister leaves the room, and while she's gone I swell. TOTALLY. Think Aunt Marge from the beginning of Harry Potter 3. Every single part of me was at least 3 times its normal size and I was starting to have trouble breathing, as my tongue was swelling too. Then the swelling started going back to normal and I could breathe, and by the time my sister got back you could barely tell I'd swelled up at all. I was really glad because I felt horribly ashamed that I had G.D., like it was my fault, and I was completely embarassed, so I tried to hide it.
The next day, I just HAD to go to find out. I couldn't put it off any longer.
Then, there was last night's dream. It was a simple, short dream without much detail. Basically I remember Matt asking me to at least vacuum the stairs if I wouldn't vacuum anywhere else in the house, because they were just getting gross. I felt bad and ashamed, and promised him that I would vacuum them A.S.A.P.
So why the dream vacuum? No, this vacuum is not symbolic of something I'm neglecting to do in our marriage, or anything of the sort. Quite simply, I just needed to vacuum my house!
Easier said than done, however. Our vacuum died a few weeks ago (probably pushing a month by now.) I mostly forgot about it unless I knew we had people coming over, like the other night when the missionaries were going to do a discussion at our house, and I insisted on vacuuming our entire living/dining room with the little teeny extension that's about 4 inches wide which still works. I had to quit half way through and get Matt to do the rest, because I was completely out of breath and puffing for air, but it got done well enough.
So anyway, now I'm rambling. Let me get to the point.
Our vacuum was broken. It needed fixing. It sat upstairs right beside our front door for at least 2 and a half weeks, just begging to get fixed. Eventually I glazed over the fact that it was there because it was just part of the scenery, and so nothing was done about it.
What was wrong was that the spinny thing on the bottom that picks everything up with the help of the suction just would not spin when it was touching the floor. So I went to a vacuum place today to buy a filter and a new belt, hoping to replace random parts before we brought it to a repair place (so that they don't charge an arm and a leg for replacing things I can replace myself, thankyouverymuch!) I mentioned to the guy there what the problem was, and he said I might just need to replace the belt and then all would be well.
I ran around town trying to find a place that sold my filter. Then I went home and got down to work.
This might sound silly, and I'm not really doing the awesomeness of this story justice (I plead tiredness), but I pulled everything outside where the world could get as dusty as it pleased, took apart the vacuum, gave it a good wipe down, and then...the good part. I replaced the belt by myself! Again, this is not having the thrill it should have. Let me expand.
I don't use tools. I hate tools. They are for boys and men who are supposed to be these handymen who can fix everything and why pay money for someone else to do what you can do yourself? At least, that was how I was raised. My dad ALWAYS fixed our car. Sometimes it'd take a whole Saturday, but he'd get it done.
Matthew had to be the one to investigate why the vacuum wasn't working, because I just didn't know where to begin. He opened it up the other day and hummed and hawed, but to no avail. Then I, the girly girl who hates dirt and dusty things and isn't totally sure of which way to turn a screwdriver, takes the vacuum apart ON MY OWN, fiddles with, yanks, pulls, and successfully puts the new belt into place, and yes, even manages to get the vacuum back together and looking as it did before I had gone anywhere near it with a tool. A proud moment to say the least.
Then I brought it in the house to see if maybe, just maybe that did the trick. I mean, I wasn't TOO hopeful, but wouldn't it be awesome if I could fix an appliance simply by my own cunning?
Well. Did that vacuum ever run. It ran like it hasn't run since we got it. Even then, I think it was more weak sauce than it is now. That Dirt Devil earned its name today! Dirt can run, but it can't hide. Not when my vacuum works for the first time in what felt like ages, and I had all the time in the world to vacuum my entire house. I think I spent 45 minutes vacuuming in all. I vacuumed everywhere I could think of (except the dog. He won't let me come near him with the vacuum.)
And, for the first time in my life, I really could appreciate Tim the Tool-Man-Taylor, from Home Improvements. I felt so proud. I felt so useful. I felt like grunting. I felt........like a man. Seriously, I was tempted to do that whole silly walk around the house with a powerdrill in my hand just looking for other things to fix, I felt that good. When Matt got home, I had to take him on a tour of our newly vacuumed house, I was that proud.
So anyway, there's the highlight of my day! Sad, I know, that such a thing could bring me so much pleasure, but oh well! You try living without a vacuum for a month and then realizing that it was within your power to fix it all along. You feel so...empowered, for lack of a better word.
Moving on. The house got vacuumed, I made lunch for Matt and brought it to the office, and then I worked the afternoon, shipping out a bunch of orders because the shipment FINALLY came in. It was my last day to work, as they won't need me tomorrow, and I am so glad. I was almost in tears, my back was aching so much, and I didn't know I'd be working, so I wore crummy flipflops instead of good shoes. Oh well. I'm sure my body will get over it.
Then for dinner Matt and I ordered Swiss Chalet, and HEY, did you know they deliver???!!! We were thrilled. So instead of waiting in a restaurant for your food, I had a nice, long, hot shower that got the kinks out, and Matt relaxed in front of the tv for a bit. Our own little piece of heaven.
Oh, I got a call from my midwife today, and I was a little worried, because it's been 2 days since my glucose screen. EEP! Apparently, though, everything on that front looks fine. They also tested my iron at the same time, however, and that didn't come out looking so pretty. Apparently my hemoglobin is a little low, nothing to be worried about (mom!), but I'm going to go on iron pills for the remainder of my pregnancy, because it's not something that will improve on its own, and will only go downhill if not addressed. I don't really mind, I'm already taking vit. C and cranberry pills as a preventive measure for urinary tract infections, but I'm a little bummed that it means taking an extra 3 pills a day. I used to be so pro at swallowing pills, but now I can barely get them down. I think it'd because my prenatal vit. and the cranberry are enormous. Sometimes they hit the gag reflex, and it's not pretty.
So there you have it. No gestational diabetes, and a little low on the hemoglobin (which, by the way, is important for bringing oxygen to the baby through the bloodstream. In case you were wondering...I was, so I asked!)
Oh, and while on the phone, I asked my mw about this funny pressure I've been feeling on my ribs. I thought it was too soon for the pressure to be caused by the baby kicking my ribs (and it doesn't feel like that anyway), but apparently by this time your uterus is not only 'well above your belly-button' as my mw said, but it's also pushing all the organs further and further upwards, and my ribs have already started to expand. Again, I thought it was too soon for that. I tried googling it, and most people feeling this don't feel it until they're in the 30's (weeks..) but not me. Maybe it means I'm carrying high...?? I don't know.
So anyway, that's a little uncomfortable. Have you ever had your eye twitch? It feels like that, minus the pulsating, right underneath the lower front part of my ribs. WEIRD! And hard to sleep. But hey, sleep just IS hard these days. It's an accepted part of life. My friend, Farrah, said to me yesterday, "Yeah, you can kiss away sleeping well from about now until you're done having kids!" and I know it's true. In a way I'm glad because it won't be quite so hard when our little one wants to eat in the middle of the night. I'll already be used to waking up constantly.
Other than all that, I don't think there's much to post on. I know this has all been random stuff, but I just couldn't resist posting about my vacuum experience. It was special.
Anyway, I hope everyone's having a wonderful week!!
Take the glucose screening for example. I forgot to mention it, but I had a dream the night before I went for the glucose screening. I'd been putting the thing off for 2 weeks, and I think it was starting to eat at my mind. I had a dream where I was holding my sister's baby and she was holding mine, and we were all getting the test done, babies included. Apparently in my dream, you knew you had G.D. if you swelled up big time. So, my sister leaves the room, and while she's gone I swell. TOTALLY. Think Aunt Marge from the beginning of Harry Potter 3. Every single part of me was at least 3 times its normal size and I was starting to have trouble breathing, as my tongue was swelling too. Then the swelling started going back to normal and I could breathe, and by the time my sister got back you could barely tell I'd swelled up at all. I was really glad because I felt horribly ashamed that I had G.D., like it was my fault, and I was completely embarassed, so I tried to hide it.
The next day, I just HAD to go to find out. I couldn't put it off any longer.
Then, there was last night's dream. It was a simple, short dream without much detail. Basically I remember Matt asking me to at least vacuum the stairs if I wouldn't vacuum anywhere else in the house, because they were just getting gross. I felt bad and ashamed, and promised him that I would vacuum them A.S.A.P.
So why the dream vacuum? No, this vacuum is not symbolic of something I'm neglecting to do in our marriage, or anything of the sort. Quite simply, I just needed to vacuum my house!
Easier said than done, however. Our vacuum died a few weeks ago (probably pushing a month by now.) I mostly forgot about it unless I knew we had people coming over, like the other night when the missionaries were going to do a discussion at our house, and I insisted on vacuuming our entire living/dining room with the little teeny extension that's about 4 inches wide which still works. I had to quit half way through and get Matt to do the rest, because I was completely out of breath and puffing for air, but it got done well enough.
So anyway, now I'm rambling. Let me get to the point.
Our vacuum was broken. It needed fixing. It sat upstairs right beside our front door for at least 2 and a half weeks, just begging to get fixed. Eventually I glazed over the fact that it was there because it was just part of the scenery, and so nothing was done about it.
What was wrong was that the spinny thing on the bottom that picks everything up with the help of the suction just would not spin when it was touching the floor. So I went to a vacuum place today to buy a filter and a new belt, hoping to replace random parts before we brought it to a repair place (so that they don't charge an arm and a leg for replacing things I can replace myself, thankyouverymuch!) I mentioned to the guy there what the problem was, and he said I might just need to replace the belt and then all would be well.
I ran around town trying to find a place that sold my filter. Then I went home and got down to work.
This might sound silly, and I'm not really doing the awesomeness of this story justice (I plead tiredness), but I pulled everything outside where the world could get as dusty as it pleased, took apart the vacuum, gave it a good wipe down, and then...the good part. I replaced the belt by myself! Again, this is not having the thrill it should have. Let me expand.
I don't use tools. I hate tools. They are for boys and men who are supposed to be these handymen who can fix everything and why pay money for someone else to do what you can do yourself? At least, that was how I was raised. My dad ALWAYS fixed our car. Sometimes it'd take a whole Saturday, but he'd get it done.
Matthew had to be the one to investigate why the vacuum wasn't working, because I just didn't know where to begin. He opened it up the other day and hummed and hawed, but to no avail. Then I, the girly girl who hates dirt and dusty things and isn't totally sure of which way to turn a screwdriver, takes the vacuum apart ON MY OWN, fiddles with, yanks, pulls, and successfully puts the new belt into place, and yes, even manages to get the vacuum back together and looking as it did before I had gone anywhere near it with a tool. A proud moment to say the least.
Then I brought it in the house to see if maybe, just maybe that did the trick. I mean, I wasn't TOO hopeful, but wouldn't it be awesome if I could fix an appliance simply by my own cunning?
Well. Did that vacuum ever run. It ran like it hasn't run since we got it. Even then, I think it was more weak sauce than it is now. That Dirt Devil earned its name today! Dirt can run, but it can't hide. Not when my vacuum works for the first time in what felt like ages, and I had all the time in the world to vacuum my entire house. I think I spent 45 minutes vacuuming in all. I vacuumed everywhere I could think of (except the dog. He won't let me come near him with the vacuum.)
And, for the first time in my life, I really could appreciate Tim the Tool-Man-Taylor, from Home Improvements. I felt so proud. I felt so useful. I felt like grunting. I felt........like a man. Seriously, I was tempted to do that whole silly walk around the house with a powerdrill in my hand just looking for other things to fix, I felt that good. When Matt got home, I had to take him on a tour of our newly vacuumed house, I was that proud.
So anyway, there's the highlight of my day! Sad, I know, that such a thing could bring me so much pleasure, but oh well! You try living without a vacuum for a month and then realizing that it was within your power to fix it all along. You feel so...empowered, for lack of a better word.
Moving on. The house got vacuumed, I made lunch for Matt and brought it to the office, and then I worked the afternoon, shipping out a bunch of orders because the shipment FINALLY came in. It was my last day to work, as they won't need me tomorrow, and I am so glad. I was almost in tears, my back was aching so much, and I didn't know I'd be working, so I wore crummy flipflops instead of good shoes. Oh well. I'm sure my body will get over it.
Then for dinner Matt and I ordered Swiss Chalet, and HEY, did you know they deliver???!!! We were thrilled. So instead of waiting in a restaurant for your food, I had a nice, long, hot shower that got the kinks out, and Matt relaxed in front of the tv for a bit. Our own little piece of heaven.
Oh, I got a call from my midwife today, and I was a little worried, because it's been 2 days since my glucose screen. EEP! Apparently, though, everything on that front looks fine. They also tested my iron at the same time, however, and that didn't come out looking so pretty. Apparently my hemoglobin is a little low, nothing to be worried about (mom!), but I'm going to go on iron pills for the remainder of my pregnancy, because it's not something that will improve on its own, and will only go downhill if not addressed. I don't really mind, I'm already taking vit. C and cranberry pills as a preventive measure for urinary tract infections, but I'm a little bummed that it means taking an extra 3 pills a day. I used to be so pro at swallowing pills, but now I can barely get them down. I think it'd because my prenatal vit. and the cranberry are enormous. Sometimes they hit the gag reflex, and it's not pretty.
So there you have it. No gestational diabetes, and a little low on the hemoglobin (which, by the way, is important for bringing oxygen to the baby through the bloodstream. In case you were wondering...I was, so I asked!)
Oh, and while on the phone, I asked my mw about this funny pressure I've been feeling on my ribs. I thought it was too soon for the pressure to be caused by the baby kicking my ribs (and it doesn't feel like that anyway), but apparently by this time your uterus is not only 'well above your belly-button' as my mw said, but it's also pushing all the organs further and further upwards, and my ribs have already started to expand. Again, I thought it was too soon for that. I tried googling it, and most people feeling this don't feel it until they're in the 30's (weeks..) but not me. Maybe it means I'm carrying high...?? I don't know.
So anyway, that's a little uncomfortable. Have you ever had your eye twitch? It feels like that, minus the pulsating, right underneath the lower front part of my ribs. WEIRD! And hard to sleep. But hey, sleep just IS hard these days. It's an accepted part of life. My friend, Farrah, said to me yesterday, "Yeah, you can kiss away sleeping well from about now until you're done having kids!" and I know it's true. In a way I'm glad because it won't be quite so hard when our little one wants to eat in the middle of the night. I'll already be used to waking up constantly.
Other than all that, I don't think there's much to post on. I know this has all been random stuff, but I just couldn't resist posting about my vacuum experience. It was special.
Anyway, I hope everyone's having a wonderful week!!
Tuesday, October 6, 2009
Rudolph's return and the bad case of the sugar drink.
Remember those days in grade 9, when you liked more than one guy at a time, and whether or not you liked him depended completely on how cute he was and that he wasn't the world's biggest (or most obvious) ignoramous? When you didn't even know the guy you liked, but still told all your friends in giggles about it? And then within a few back-and-forth exchanges via "I like you" notes or passing messages through friends (because you're too chicken to do it yourself) you've asked the guy out, you're officially "boyfriend/girlfriend" and you have yet to have your first real conversation just between the two of you???
I had a flashback to those days this morning while looking in the mirror.
See, when I was in grade 9, I had a crush on this one guy who seemed totally nice and (most importantly) was cute. I passed the message through a mutual friend, but this guy didn't know who he was talking about. No big deal, he's got lots of time to get to know me and how awesome I am, right? WRONG! The conversation quickly became, "You know, Holly. The girl who sits next to so-and-so in our English class..." and the classic, never-to-be-forgotten response, "What. You mean Rudolph?!" (I unfortunately had a monster of a pimple on the very end of my nose that was quite red at the time. Perhaps I should have chosen a more attractive time to express my deepest feelings, but I had a bit more confidence then in my appearance. It was shattered right around that moment. C'est la vie.) And thus ended the short-lived crush, along with any amicable feelings I had towards this person throughout the rest of my highschool career. That is, until he slapped a teacher full-on in the butt when he thought it was his friend. Then I appreciated him a little more, but it took a while!
So why the flashback? I am (mortifyingly!) Rudolph once more! I walked into the bathroom and had a nice little surprise of a red nose this morning, which I promptly scrubbed and then covered up with make-up. You probably can't even tell it's there, and I'm sure it'll be gone by tomorrow, but I can't help but laugh over the matter. How ridiculous we are when we're 14!! I seriously wish I had been a member of the church when I was a teenager, because it could have saved me a whole lot of frustration and heartache (at least in my mind), simply by abiding by the counsel to not date until you're 16. I think most of the insecurity I felt growing up was rooted in negative dating experiences I went through prior to the age of 16, and I hope I'll be able to teach my kids the importance of heeding that counsel without telling them that they'll understand when they're older (because what teenager with raging hormones wants to hear that?!)
That being said, I am so happy to be who I am now. 25. Well past the teen years (closer to 30, in fact! That doesn't phase me yet, though.) Past the injustices dealt me in highschool, and secure in who I am. A daughter of God, who is entitled to confidence in my personality and appearance, not to mention the wife of a man whose praises I just can't sing loud enough and is a source of inspiration to me daily. Life doesn't get a whole lot better!
So come now, laugh with me as we completely scorn the days of yore and chuckle at the people we were, and rejoice in who we are, and find excitement in the amazing people we are (hopefully!) becoming, as we strive to make each day better!!
Laughter truly is the best medicine.
OH! And speaking of medicine, I went for the blasted glucose screening today (how do you like my segue into the present? Pretty crafty, huh? ;)
Just to clarify, NO I am not suspected of having gestational diabetes. Swollen feet are completely normal in pregnancy and can be controlled if you are a water-nazi and watch your salt intake (in fact, mine haven't swollen at all the last couple of days.) And if anything, swollen feet indicate preeclampsia, not gestational diabetes.
SO...that may make you wonder, "why, then, did you need to take a glucose screening test?" That is a good question, and the answer is simple. Here it is. You ready for it? The answer is, because I wanted to. It's a completely optional test that, at best, doctors can only strongly recommend. My midwife didn't seem to be concerned either way, and seeing as I already had to go for bloodwork to check my rubella status (a test that got missed during my 5 week routine bloodwork), I thought, "What's one extra vial?"
See, if I know I don't have gestational diabetes, then when I feel anything pregnancy related, I won't be googling it, wondering, worrying, and calling the midwives freaking out saying, "Oh no! I am excessively hungry/thirsty! And I gained 3 pounds since yesterday! MAYBE I have gestational diabetes!!!" (note: something I would likely do if you catch me on an off-day when I have too much time to myself to think.)
No, this way, I'll not even consider it.
And if I DO have gestational diabetes? Well, wouldn't it be nice to know now, rather than when the baby comes out, their almost constant sugar-supply via the umbilical cord is cut off, and they end up with hypoglycemia? To me, it just made sense to find out.
So there you have it! I went for my glucose screening today. ;)
And you know what? If I don't have G.D. this time, I don't think I'd bother finding out with future pregnancies. The test was just that gross (see? The selfish side of me coming through. This is all hypothetical of course.)
The nurse gave me this sugary drink which I had to drink in 5 minutes. It was neon orange and carbonated, and at first, really just tasted like orange pop. So I drank as much as I could at first. But there's one problem for me. I don't like pop. I can never finish an entire can of it (I never HAVE been able to), and to drink all of this stuff in 5 minutes flat was kinda killing me. Then I noticed that the aftertaste started tasting medicinal, like you let your tylenol dissolve in your mouth too long before swallowing it. Ewwwwwww.
My stomach was kinda churning and definitely mad at me for inflicting this on it, and my head decided to take stomach's side and revolt as well, giving me a pretty acute headache. Just the sort that makes you want to lay down and sleep. I wasn't allowed to eat my snacks that I had brought either, and that was a bummer, because when I'm feeling blah like that, food usually helps.
I had to wait around for an hour, but once I started getting over the after-effects of drinking that icky stuff, I started to feel better. I tried playing Sudoku but I just wasn't feeling it, so I read my Rilla of Ingleside book instead. I'm so glad my midwife told me to bring a book!! Even with the book, it was a very long hour.
Then I had my blood drawn. I had to lie down for it because I get a little woozy when the circulation is cut off to my arm, and once I blacked out. It was fine though, and the only thing that hurt was the first poke. Then, in no time, it was over! I felt relieved. Now I just need to wait a few days and see if the midwives call me saying there was a problem. If I don't hear from them by Friday, I'm going to assume everything was fine.
Other than that, not much has been going on in the house of G. This past weekend was General Conference and Matthew and I watched most of the sessions from home. It was heavenly. No, heavenly doens't even describe it. Words simply CAN'T describe it! We had to go to the chapel for the Sunday morning session because the streaming really sucked and the broadcast kept cutting out every 30 seconds, and it was not nearly as comfy. I've decided there's something about the height of the pews/chairs at church that really drives me crazy right now!
So anyway, Conference was awesome, and I feel inspired and motivated to do my best. I love feeling good like that. My favourite talk? I don't know if I have one favourite, there were so many good ones, but Elder Holland's talk really stands out to me (pretty much the greatest smack-down ever. MAN that man can speak) and so does President Monson's talk on service.
Other than that, our weekend was full of choir practice/potluck, a photography field trip, and looking after my sick husband, who was feeling under the weather for the whole weekend. I now kindof have what he had, but I'm okay, I have time to relax and let my body rest and get better.
Anyway, the only other new thing is that I'm officially 26 weeks along! That doesn't sound very impressive, because last week I was officially 25 weeks along, and so on, but wait. It gets better. 26 weeks = 6 months (YAY!) = 3rd TRIMESTER! The big kahuna. The one where it all happens. EEP! I feel so frabjous.
Matthew looks at my stomach and says it's huge, but I don't mind. In fact, I like it, because then I'm assured that I look pregnant and not, well, largely overweight with a protruding pot-belly. I mean, the protruding part is true, but I'll take it.
So here's a picture of the "huge" belly.
I'm a fan of the comparison shot, so the photo on the left is me 2 weeks ago at 24 weeks, and the one on the right is me today, at 26 weeks. Do you think it helps that I wore the same shirt for both photos, or should I have worn different ones? See, I like the comparison because then I can be like, "wow! Look how much bigger I am!" like I do when I look at this photo. I know the difference isn't astonishing, but it's exciting nonetheless. It makes the fact that the baby has nearly doubled in weight in 4 weeks seem a bit more believable. If you REALLY want to grasp that fact, take a look at this next photo:
That's 3 weeks and 2 days of baby growth for ya'!
So all this growth has put me in a bit of a quandary because my winter coats won't zip up, and I was really hoping they would. I have a couple from when I was bigger (sans bebe) but I guess the weight was more proportionate then, and not strapped to the front of me. Do I buy a coat for 2 months though? That seems like a waste. But then again, I don't want to freeze. I'll probably just stay out of the cold, and only walk to and from the car once I have the need of a winter coat. Until then, a cozy sweater is doing just fine. And apparently immediately after you give birth, you go to about the size of what you were when you were 6 months pregnant (so now) and my winter coats JUST don't zip, so it shouldn't be long after the baby is born that I can zip my coats up.
I love love LOVE that I'm not seriously pregnant over summer. But sometimes I wish I was just for the sake of wearing flipflops all the time, and cheaper clothes that aren't winter coats.
So anyway, this post has become rather long, so I'm going to wrap it up. I might not post again until the weekend (there really isn't anything going on!) but I'll definitely post then, as it's Thanksgiving (Canadian...) and my favourite local craft show, and other fun things going on. So expect another post Monday at the latest!
I had a flashback to those days this morning while looking in the mirror.
See, when I was in grade 9, I had a crush on this one guy who seemed totally nice and (most importantly) was cute. I passed the message through a mutual friend, but this guy didn't know who he was talking about. No big deal, he's got lots of time to get to know me and how awesome I am, right? WRONG! The conversation quickly became, "You know, Holly. The girl who sits next to so-and-so in our English class..." and the classic, never-to-be-forgotten response, "What. You mean Rudolph?!" (I unfortunately had a monster of a pimple on the very end of my nose that was quite red at the time. Perhaps I should have chosen a more attractive time to express my deepest feelings, but I had a bit more confidence then in my appearance. It was shattered right around that moment. C'est la vie.) And thus ended the short-lived crush, along with any amicable feelings I had towards this person throughout the rest of my highschool career. That is, until he slapped a teacher full-on in the butt when he thought it was his friend. Then I appreciated him a little more, but it took a while!
So why the flashback? I am (mortifyingly!) Rudolph once more! I walked into the bathroom and had a nice little surprise of a red nose this morning, which I promptly scrubbed and then covered up with make-up. You probably can't even tell it's there, and I'm sure it'll be gone by tomorrow, but I can't help but laugh over the matter. How ridiculous we are when we're 14!! I seriously wish I had been a member of the church when I was a teenager, because it could have saved me a whole lot of frustration and heartache (at least in my mind), simply by abiding by the counsel to not date until you're 16. I think most of the insecurity I felt growing up was rooted in negative dating experiences I went through prior to the age of 16, and I hope I'll be able to teach my kids the importance of heeding that counsel without telling them that they'll understand when they're older (because what teenager with raging hormones wants to hear that?!)
That being said, I am so happy to be who I am now. 25. Well past the teen years (closer to 30, in fact! That doesn't phase me yet, though.) Past the injustices dealt me in highschool, and secure in who I am. A daughter of God, who is entitled to confidence in my personality and appearance, not to mention the wife of a man whose praises I just can't sing loud enough and is a source of inspiration to me daily. Life doesn't get a whole lot better!
So come now, laugh with me as we completely scorn the days of yore and chuckle at the people we were, and rejoice in who we are, and find excitement in the amazing people we are (hopefully!) becoming, as we strive to make each day better!!
Laughter truly is the best medicine.
OH! And speaking of medicine, I went for the blasted glucose screening today (how do you like my segue into the present? Pretty crafty, huh? ;)
Just to clarify, NO I am not suspected of having gestational diabetes. Swollen feet are completely normal in pregnancy and can be controlled if you are a water-nazi and watch your salt intake (in fact, mine haven't swollen at all the last couple of days.) And if anything, swollen feet indicate preeclampsia, not gestational diabetes.
SO...that may make you wonder, "why, then, did you need to take a glucose screening test?" That is a good question, and the answer is simple. Here it is. You ready for it? The answer is, because I wanted to. It's a completely optional test that, at best, doctors can only strongly recommend. My midwife didn't seem to be concerned either way, and seeing as I already had to go for bloodwork to check my rubella status (a test that got missed during my 5 week routine bloodwork), I thought, "What's one extra vial?"
See, if I know I don't have gestational diabetes, then when I feel anything pregnancy related, I won't be googling it, wondering, worrying, and calling the midwives freaking out saying, "Oh no! I am excessively hungry/thirsty! And I gained 3 pounds since yesterday! MAYBE I have gestational diabetes!!!" (note: something I would likely do if you catch me on an off-day when I have too much time to myself to think.)
No, this way, I'll not even consider it.
And if I DO have gestational diabetes? Well, wouldn't it be nice to know now, rather than when the baby comes out, their almost constant sugar-supply via the umbilical cord is cut off, and they end up with hypoglycemia? To me, it just made sense to find out.
So there you have it! I went for my glucose screening today. ;)
And you know what? If I don't have G.D. this time, I don't think I'd bother finding out with future pregnancies. The test was just that gross (see? The selfish side of me coming through. This is all hypothetical of course.)
The nurse gave me this sugary drink which I had to drink in 5 minutes. It was neon orange and carbonated, and at first, really just tasted like orange pop. So I drank as much as I could at first. But there's one problem for me. I don't like pop. I can never finish an entire can of it (I never HAVE been able to), and to drink all of this stuff in 5 minutes flat was kinda killing me. Then I noticed that the aftertaste started tasting medicinal, like you let your tylenol dissolve in your mouth too long before swallowing it. Ewwwwwww.
My stomach was kinda churning and definitely mad at me for inflicting this on it, and my head decided to take stomach's side and revolt as well, giving me a pretty acute headache. Just the sort that makes you want to lay down and sleep. I wasn't allowed to eat my snacks that I had brought either, and that was a bummer, because when I'm feeling blah like that, food usually helps.
I had to wait around for an hour, but once I started getting over the after-effects of drinking that icky stuff, I started to feel better. I tried playing Sudoku but I just wasn't feeling it, so I read my Rilla of Ingleside book instead. I'm so glad my midwife told me to bring a book!! Even with the book, it was a very long hour.
Then I had my blood drawn. I had to lie down for it because I get a little woozy when the circulation is cut off to my arm, and once I blacked out. It was fine though, and the only thing that hurt was the first poke. Then, in no time, it was over! I felt relieved. Now I just need to wait a few days and see if the midwives call me saying there was a problem. If I don't hear from them by Friday, I'm going to assume everything was fine.
Other than that, not much has been going on in the house of G. This past weekend was General Conference and Matthew and I watched most of the sessions from home. It was heavenly. No, heavenly doens't even describe it. Words simply CAN'T describe it! We had to go to the chapel for the Sunday morning session because the streaming really sucked and the broadcast kept cutting out every 30 seconds, and it was not nearly as comfy. I've decided there's something about the height of the pews/chairs at church that really drives me crazy right now!
So anyway, Conference was awesome, and I feel inspired and motivated to do my best. I love feeling good like that. My favourite talk? I don't know if I have one favourite, there were so many good ones, but Elder Holland's talk really stands out to me (pretty much the greatest smack-down ever. MAN that man can speak) and so does President Monson's talk on service.
Other than that, our weekend was full of choir practice/potluck, a photography field trip, and looking after my sick husband, who was feeling under the weather for the whole weekend. I now kindof have what he had, but I'm okay, I have time to relax and let my body rest and get better.
Anyway, the only other new thing is that I'm officially 26 weeks along! That doesn't sound very impressive, because last week I was officially 25 weeks along, and so on, but wait. It gets better. 26 weeks = 6 months (YAY!) = 3rd TRIMESTER! The big kahuna. The one where it all happens. EEP! I feel so frabjous.
Matthew looks at my stomach and says it's huge, but I don't mind. In fact, I like it, because then I'm assured that I look pregnant and not, well, largely overweight with a protruding pot-belly. I mean, the protruding part is true, but I'll take it.
So here's a picture of the "huge" belly.
I'm a fan of the comparison shot, so the photo on the left is me 2 weeks ago at 24 weeks, and the one on the right is me today, at 26 weeks. Do you think it helps that I wore the same shirt for both photos, or should I have worn different ones? See, I like the comparison because then I can be like, "wow! Look how much bigger I am!" like I do when I look at this photo. I know the difference isn't astonishing, but it's exciting nonetheless. It makes the fact that the baby has nearly doubled in weight in 4 weeks seem a bit more believable. If you REALLY want to grasp that fact, take a look at this next photo:
That's 3 weeks and 2 days of baby growth for ya'!So all this growth has put me in a bit of a quandary because my winter coats won't zip up, and I was really hoping they would. I have a couple from when I was bigger (sans bebe) but I guess the weight was more proportionate then, and not strapped to the front of me. Do I buy a coat for 2 months though? That seems like a waste. But then again, I don't want to freeze. I'll probably just stay out of the cold, and only walk to and from the car once I have the need of a winter coat. Until then, a cozy sweater is doing just fine. And apparently immediately after you give birth, you go to about the size of what you were when you were 6 months pregnant (so now) and my winter coats JUST don't zip, so it shouldn't be long after the baby is born that I can zip my coats up.
I love love LOVE that I'm not seriously pregnant over summer. But sometimes I wish I was just for the sake of wearing flipflops all the time, and cheaper clothes that aren't winter coats.
So anyway, this post has become rather long, so I'm going to wrap it up. I might not post again until the weekend (there really isn't anything going on!) but I'll definitely post then, as it's Thanksgiving (Canadian...) and my favourite local craft show, and other fun things going on. So expect another post Monday at the latest!
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