An Alarming Case of "Pregnancy Brain"

Last night at the grocery store:
Looking at a muffin display:
Me: "Ooh! Those french huffins look good!
Brandon: "WHAT?"
Me: "I mean peach huffins. I mean muffins. PEACH MUFFINS."
Brandon: "What is wrong with you?"
Me: "Sorry, I couldn't read the label without my GLASS-LIGHTS on."
Brandon: "You mean GLASSES?"
Me: "Yeah, that's what I said, dork."

(incidentally, I was wearing my glass-lights glasses)

Boy or Girl?

Tomorrow I'm going in for another OB appt, and since they're doing an ulstrasound, I miiiiigght be able to find out if the wee babe is packing boy or girl genitalia. Big B and I are thinking it's a girl (my sore boobies tell me so) but Lil C is pretty insistent he's going to have a little brother. And really, as long as I don't get one of those babies with TWO sets of junk, or a neuter baby with NO junk, I'll be good.

What do you think I'm having?

PS Is anyone else freaked out by my baby widget? You know, that skinny, amorphous thing that's supposed to resemble what my baby looks like inside me? Every time I see it I kind of gasp and go eeeeeh. I think I should maybe peruse the www for another one.

Growing

Cade's an incredibly picky eater. In an effort to get him to eat more than chocolate milk and fruit snacks, B and I have started calling the healthy foods he normally shies away from "Growing Food." We'll give him some corn or eggs or oatmeal or cereal or whatever, and announce that it's time for him to eat his growing food, and when he eats them, we'll make a big fuss about how awesome that is that he's getting bigger and stronger. We'll say "Soon you're not even going to fit in your car seat!" and "Woah! I think your toe's getting bigger right now!" He loves it.

This afternoon, I grabbed Arby's on my way home from an appointment. I opened it up, said, "Oh Cade, yum! Do you want to eat some of Mommy's sammie? It's such a great growing food!" And to illustrate, I took a big bite. He looks at me, then claps, and says, "Mommy, you're getting bigger!!"

Shut up, kid.

Fail

I really don't have much to say, but I thought it'd be good to get that bloody placenta picture out of the way, so that when you open my blog on google reader, you don't dry heave (sorry Tawny). So, I was at Fail Blog, and these were a few that had me a cackling today.

PORTRAIT FAIL

RACISM FAIL
SPORTSMANSHIP FAIL

SWIMSUIT FAIL

Have a great day!

Please Pass the Placenta

So I was bored, and perusing a birth board of other mommies in the US who are due in April ’10 like me. I read a thread a woman posted; and she was asking if any other women were planning on eating their placenta too, after giving birth.

My Diet 7-Up I’d just taken a mouthful sprayed out my nose. And that stung.

I’ve seen my numerous kitty lovers throughout the years partake of their placenta after birthing their litter of kittens. It’s supposed to be full of nutrients, and I guess on an instinctual level, help get rid of the smell of birth matter so that predators don’t come to dine.

But I have never, ever, EVER heard of humans eating the placenta. And I consider myself a knowledgeable Woman of the World.

Let me illustrate for those of you who have never given birth or know what a placenta looks like what you’d be getting yourself into: when I gave birth to Cade, my placenta was about 8 lbs. And it was big. And like purple and veiny and bloody. Really, it looked like a deflated punching bag. My doc hefted it up for me to see, and I was like GEEZ PUT THAT AWAY. I mean it was gross.

And every woman for herself, okay? I’m not here to judge any of you placenta-eaters. I just couldn’t, well, stomach it. The woman went on to say that she packed it in salt (like beef jerky) and then froze it and then she would cook it like regular meat (it tastes like liver!) and season it as she would a steak, and if her husband was grilling chicken or steak on the grill or something, he’d just throw on a slab of the good ‘ol placenta for her to eat. She sprinkled it on top of her fettuccine; she put it in her soup, and worst of all, every morning she blended some up in a fruit smoothie. And, to date, she still has two uneaten placentas in her freezer that she’s still getting to.

And when her daughter was born? Oh they had a party to celebrate that, and what were the hors devours? Just some crackers and cheese and placenta. (Did they tell their guests?) (OMG)

So I’d like to officially state for the record that I am not planning on partaking of my placenta after birthing my little Polly Pocket. But if anyone’s having a craving – cuz these are kinda hard to come by! – let me know, and you can have mine.

Yum.

A Pinch of this, a Dash of that

1. I liiiiiiike my new(ish) earring from Nordy’s. Not only are they coral, (the color of my aura!) but they’re sportin’ a peace sign, and brotha, I’m all about peace. They’re so cheery! I love having bright, colorful objects near my face so it can deflect, you know, from my face.
2. Cade’s kidney infection is completely gone, I think. I’m so happy for the little guy, he can now sleep through the night without waking up in horrible pain, while grabbing his junk and screaming IT HURTS ME IT HURTS ME! and he seems to be more active and happy in general. My doc told me to hold off potty-training him for a few months, so he can hopefully forget about the trauma of painful bathroom experiences, and heaven forbid I contribute to that and have to pay for it later in therapy bills, so we’re content to wait right now.
3. Speaking of Cade:
4. The kid looks awful now. And I feel bad saying that, because he’s my son, and I love him, I really do, but it doesn’t detract from the statement, HE LOOKS AWFUL. See, his hair was getting really long and it was cute during the summer, you know, he was kind of sportin’ the whole casually gorgeous surfer dude haircut, but then it started to look borderline mullet-ish, and mullets are sick and wrong, so Bran took him to his dad’s so he could give him a haircut. Yeah, I’d say that idea bombed. He was freaking out so much that Father-in-Law gave up halfway through the cut. So yes, my child has HALF A HAIRCUT. And really, for entertainment purposes, I’d post pics, but I’ve decided this is a time in his life that I want to repress, so I’m not going to document the evidence for his (and my) emotional salvation at a later date. It’s uneven and it elicits a strong compulsion to weep whenever I look at it. If I put gel in it and squint, it doesn’t look so bad, which is nice. So really we think we might at this point just buzz it, you know, cleanse the palate, but we’ve decided that can only happen under anesthesia. We’re stymied.
5. I know that once the new season of Biggest Loser starts, you know, every season, I have to talk about how much I want Jillian Michaels’ eyebrows. I covet them like one might covet gold and riches and things of the world. I love them, I need them, I want them, oh baby oh baby. I was thinking about posting a pic of them, but I don't know, I mean, is that creepy? I mean I love her so much I might go lesbian for her and I just don't want to come off as obsessed, you know? ;)
6. I found a sweet little boutique yesterday called Expected Maternity, and I luuuurve it. See, I’m having issues with finding maternity clothes, because just because I am a mother, does not in fact mean I want to dress like one. I mean, garish flower prints that are large enough to shelter my family while camping is just not gonna fly. So this boutique was kinda expensive but everything didn’t look so mass manufactured and tired and wilted and the nice fabrics and eclectic designs made me happy. I even scored sa-weet on the sales rack and was able to pick up shirts that were normally $75 for like $25. Not bad, eh?

I’m wearing the shirt that’s pictured in pink, only mine has ¾ length sleeves and is yellow. This other pic is of a shirt that I have decided I NEED. So so adorable and not really mommish, right? Opinions ladies! (Or fashionable men.) (Wait is that an oxymoron?)
7. My mealplan:
8. Wait, I don’t want to talk about it.
9. Seriously I don’t.
10. Damn boxes.

Birthday Boy

Today is my honey baby’s birthday. So in honor of his birthday, I decided to give him a blog post and sex, plus he’s giving the xbox game to himself because really he picked it out, but I guess technically it’s from me, whatever. (Also I want a tuna sandwich from Quizno’s as my birthday present. Even though it’s his birthday.)

Here are just a few of the reasons I love Brandon so much:

1. He wanted to marry me. I’m not sure how or why, but Big B has somehow been able to see through and/or around all of the crap (like my cougheatingdisordercough) like getting in the way of my naturally awesome aura (I imagine it to be a coralish pink with like a glittery yellow tint with pink pows and kitty cats mixed all around). He’s always told me that he thinks I’m a pretty amazing lady lady, but I think he’s a pretty amazing man bear for even sticking around with me. I mean, going into treatment on our six month anniversary wasn’t exactly the gift he pry had in mind, you know?
2. He’s funny. I mean, realllly funny, guys. I don’t know how I could have ever married some dead-beat of a guy who had no sense of humor, because I honestly think B and I probably spend about 80% of our time together laughing (the other 20% of which is spent watching Biggest Loser). He pokes fun at me, but he can, because he’s him, and we somehow find a way to make jokes out of our problems, to make them more bearable. I remember once a few years ago, he found a scale that I wasn’t supposed to have, that I had hidden under all the blankies in my closet. Instead of bringing it out and getting all confrontational or getting angry (okay he’s done that too let’s be honest!) he instead wrote BUSTED on a post-it note, so the next time I pulled it out I knew I was, in fact, BUSTED. I came to him with it just laughing, and also with a look on my face that was like MAKE LOVE NOT WAR.
3. He’s really protective of me. And while I actually think that the majority of the time it’s so…hindering, I actually find it sweet he cares so much. He’s loosened up a bit, cuz I remember when we were engaged he wouldn’t let me go into the Maverick to get frozen yogurt because I was wearing SHORTS. And these weren’t like hoochie shorts that were more underwear than shorts; these were legit, like, DAISY DUKES. And we had to get over the whole YOU CAN’T WEAR A BIKINI TO THE POOL UNLESS YOU’RE WITH ME RULE, but in other aspects, it’s sweet. Remember when that tool propositioned me at a stoplight? He got appropriately angry and it makes me happy to know that someone out there cares and is protective.
4. He’s so…stable. Crap I don’t know, but it’s weird. Like, when I’m really anxious or having a problem, I FREAK out, want the world to end or at least want to find a giant black garbage bag and hide in it for awhile while I sob I DID MY BEST IDIDMYBEST IDIDMYBEST, but not B. He’ll just kinda sit and brainstorm and think about ways to fix whatever problem or stress he’s dealing with. And while it’s a bit maddening he’s so logical and NORMAL, it’s a good example for crazy psycho Brie. Love it!
5. He has really cute jackhammer spermies. Stay tuned in 6 ½ months for the little darling to make it’s debut, and you’ll be like DAMN Brandon, you gave that baby some looks! (But don’t forget about Brie who actually, in fact, did the entire 9 month cooking.)
[Pic: An excellent example of aforementioned cute spermie results.]

I love you baby! I can’t wait to go out and have fun with you tonight and celebrate all 27 of your super amazing usually never just mediocre years with you!

Love, Breezy

Bump it Up

Breezy at 12 weeks. I know, right?

Boobs

Even though I made the $4000 dollar decision to, you know, like enhance the breasties, why am I so irritated when men gape at them and are drawn to them like a moth to the flame? That’s the million dollar question – or really, four-thousand dollar question, to be exact. It’s like I don’t even have a face – or a pulse, or really anything other than the boobies. This afternoon at Quizno’s some poor kid who ordered the Mesquite Chicken just couldn’t close his mouth or raise his eyes. I was a little embarrassed for him.

Poor kid. Keep it together, you know? UP. Look up! That’s right. Close mouth. Smile. Make eye contact. Insert mumbled greeting. Move along, move along.

I relayed all this to Husband not long ago over the phone. His response? "Well, hon, you are wearing a pretty boob glorious shirt today." Way to defend my honor, Tiger.

Boobs are good but Brie is better!

Hell to the O!

Good morning my fun little pretties! Do you likes my hair? I colored it just a bit darker. My hair got so lightened by the sun this summer and I was like NOT COOL so I went back to being a bit darker. I like it when I’m wearing makeup but in the morning when I look all gross and pale and pre-presentable it kind of makes me look like a vampire, but not the traditionally hot and svelte ones. (Edward would definitely think I was a LOSER.) Sigh I guess I can’t have everything.

This week has SUCKED. ER visit Monday, then back in the instacare on Tuesday for an ear infection. Even now, my ear is plugged and ringing pretty loudly and I think my listening skills are a little sub-par because I get distracted when people are talking to me wondering if the ringing in my ear is in fact so loud that they might also hear it?? So it’s been lame. But I haven’t worked all week which is kind of nice. (I’m back to work today for a full EIGHT HOURS and holy oh my moly how do you full-times do it??) Yesterday I was able to spend all day with Cade, and we had a blast, minus the time he wanted a toy (well, three) and I didn’t want to buy all three and that didn’t really go over well. But we played at the park and he so eloquently bequeathed me with maybe the best compliment I’ve gotten in a really long time. He said, “Mommy, I love you billions. You’re the queen of the world!” And that just made me smile and smile.

Yesterday I got another ultrasound and got to see the little bald and amorphous tike. It was so wonderful because the baby was kicking and bouncing around my uterus and never once stopped moving. It made me happy to see it so active. It’s teeeeeny little arms and legs were waving around and I’d like to think I have the smartest fetus in the world and it knew I was taking a gander at it and was waving at Mama and telling her to keep eating, keep being strong. So after that I totally wanted to go to IHOP and eat a big ‘ol breakfast, and well I didn’t, but I did eat a good breakfast, just not IHOP style. But still it was good! But it was so gratifying and relieving to see Baby, and in a few short weeks I’ll be able to know if it’s packing girl or boy genitalia, and then I’ll be able to buy clothes and sew blankies (the bad-ass seamstress in me is like DESPERATE to get out) and narrow down names and just generally get even more excited. I’m also approaching the end of the first trimester mark (a few more days) and BOY am I excited. The second trimester is by far the best because I’m not quite so pukey and hormonal but I’m also not yet super big and fat and so I remain pretty equable. Once the third trimester hits I’m like Momasaurus Rex (and about as big as that too) and it’s like GET OUT OF MY WAY BECAUSE I WILL EAT YOU. So hopefully there are some good times ahead…for the next 13 weeks, at least.

Well, all of you are freaking fabulous. Er, at least the 34 of you that commented on my blatantly needing support blog. Seriously, that was awesome. I read the comments really slowly, spread out over a few days, cuz I was sick, but every time I read one I thought damn, I have the best readers in the world. And what’s INSANE is that the vast majority of you…I don’t even know you, have ever met you, or have had a real conversation with you. But still, you stopped by, and took time to remind me that Ed sucks and life rocks and offer your own unique ideas and ways to support me. You are da raddest.

So basically here’s the ED update: I GUESS I’m still in denial but I’ve decided to shut my pie-hole about it (This is ironic. Think about it.) and just follow my meal-plan exactly. And, really, I don’t have much of a choice because if I don’t, (even if I miss like one grain!) I’ll have to go to el hospitalo which would sucko, so that’s pretty good motivation. So onward!

I’m going to go catch up on blogs now. LOVE YOU.

Reasons I Didn’t Blog this Weekend

1. I never blog on the weekends
2. I was in the ER all of Friday night with Lil C, who has a kidney infection.
3. I felt sick.
4. I had an asthma attack.
5. I had another one.
6. Yep, add another.
7. And another one for good luck!
8. Finally went to the ER myself, because, you know, I kind of find that breathing is rather an asset to actually living.
9. Woke up last night with an EAR INFECTION.
10. I haven’t had an ear infection for two decades.
11. I just threw up.
12. My head hurts.
13. I am leaving work to go to the doc to procure antibiotics
14. and be miserable
15. and hate my life.

My husband is operating under the theory that my body has a quota it needs to fill of things to go wrong with my body at any one given time because IT HATES ME.

I heartily agree.

PS. I have much to say regarding the comments I garnered on my last post, but uncontrollable salivating and retching and ringing in my ear forbids it. Till next time!

Free Fallin'

I know that I’m supposed to say I’m underweight and that I need to gain. And I can say that. Very eloquently, actually. I know I’m supposed to say that eating is suuuuupper easy and suuuuuupppper fun while being pregnant. And we know I’m quite loquacious. I can say that I don’t mind feeling sick all the time, and put a smile on my face. I’m good at that.

But the chasm between saying and doing can be…vast. And deep. Like, thanks for the Grand Canyon of my Life, God! It’s SUPER big and WOW THANKS SO MUCH FOR HAVING ME CROSS IT! I hope I don’t fall and plunge to a miserable death or worse break my face because then I’d effectively, be, you know, dead, and then that would be lame. And no one wants to fail. Or something.

It’s time to walk the walk, put my money where my mouth is, and any other sort of figure of speech you can think of that applies.

Support is needed.

Excuse Me, Officer Dick & Other Reflections

Yesterday I got pulled over by OFFICER DICK for not using my blinker when I turned into my sister’s neighborhood. I thought for a minute about playing the “hot dumb chick” to get out of the ticket (it’s worked before) but I was too mad at the dude for being so desperate as to pull someone over for something as lame as not blinking. I mean, go catch some real felons, you know? So instead I was snarky and a little mean and OFFICER DICK didn’t like that. I actually didn’t even see him (he didn’t turn on his siren) so I pulled up to my sister’s house and jumped out of the car to get Lil C. All of a sudden I hear behind me MA’AM GET IN YOUR CAR. I NEED YOU TO PLEASE GET BACK IN YOUR VEHICLE! And I see OFFICER DICK behind me. The man weighed 3 times what I do – and he was afraid of me. And then I get a big lecture about pulling over when a cop is following me (I didn’t seeeeee yoooouuu, OFFICER DICK) and how I need to remain in my vehicle for safety reasons (I didn’t seeeeeee yooooouuu, OFFICER DICK). Anyway I was grouchy and after he left I cried. Lame.

This morning as I was driving to work I was so paranoid about a cop pulling me over. But I mean isn’t that double jeopardy or something? It’s got to be.

So Madame Zaritska predicted my birth experience and it is as follows:
The day you deliver, outside will be misty. Your baby will arrive in the late evening. After a labor lasting approximately 16 hours, your child, a girl, will be born. Your baby will weigh about 7 pounds, 10 ounces, and will be 22-1/2 inches long. This child will have light brown eyes and a little patch of auburn hair.

I pretty much object to everything in that PROPHECY except the girl part. A 22 ½ incher all up in my uterus? SIXTEEN HOURS? I don’t think so.

What do we think of the representative from South Carolina yelling out in Obama’s speech last night “YOU LIE!”? Discuss. The dude’s got cahones and I hear this morning that his website is conveniently “under construction.” Interesting.

And what about Ellen replacing Paula Abdul for American Idol? I mean, personally, I didn’t care for Paula much. I mostly felt bad for her because she had a hard time formulating sentences and I thought we kinda all learned that in kindergarten and that made me feel awkward for her. But Ellen doesn’t have any music experience. And how is it going to be for her to sit on a panel of judges and have to share the spotlight, so to speak? I mean, the woman is used to running her own show. And can anyone imagine her giving criticism to a singer or even, like, an errant puppy? How on earth is she going to tell someone they suck? I love Ellen, I really do. And I hope it works out. But I may need to see a few shows before I decide on whether or not this is a good thing.

Who else is stoked that the fall TV shows are finally starting to come on again? I mean, phew, right? Last night I watched the premiere of So You Think You Can Dance, and also Glee – I think that’s going to be a winner. Also ANTM started last night – the short season – but I haven’t watched it yet. No offense to all you under 5’7”ers out there, but it’ll be weird to see short people modeling. Really weird. And I’m not sure I’ll like it. But this maybe coming from a former model that’s a bit skeptical? Perhaps.

And…Biggest Loser. Oh yeah Baby! Jillian you are HOT. That starts next week so set your Tivo’s. Oh and also The Office and Parks and Recreation and Law & Order SVU, to mention only a F E W. Now that TV is starting again, the number of books I read in a given week is going to decrease from about 5 to 2.87. But I am okay with this.

Check out my meal-plan. It’s a lot, huh? Give me support and feel bad for me, please. You may discuss.

That is all.

Been Busy

Life’s been crazy. Yesterday for Labor Day we went to the zoo. I feel bad for the caged up animals because they’re all kind of a bunch of dead-beats. The tigers are ALWAYS hiding; it’s as if they almost love to mock the crowd of people who pay $9.50 to see them – because nobody, in fact, actually sees them. The polar bear died, and they hadn’t yet put out the baby elephant that was born this summer. And why is that EVERY monkey I see has GIANT GENITALIA hanging, like there? Are there any female monkeys? Where are they hiding? Seriously. Cade had fun, but really, not that much fun. And it kind of made me sad because I thought, “Since when is it okay for a three year old to be underwhelmed with the zoo?” They’re supposed to eat that shiz up, you know?

I think the morning sickness is starting to get better. It seems to have peaked around 8 ½ weeks, so now at 10 weeks, the sickies are still here, but I’ve noticed they’re getting better. Like I’m not ralphing at my regularly scheduled 10:30 anymore, but also please don’t mention blueberry poptarts. My tummy is starting to show a bit, seriously. You wouldn’t notice if you didn’t know me or know I was pregnant, but there is a definite baby bump. I alternate between thinking it’s kind of intriguing to being really freaked out. On Sunday while at church, I was wearing this awful dress that I THOUGHT was cute but really WASN’T and I leaned over to Husband and said, “I’m never wearing this dress again it makes me LOOK PREGNANT!” And he sweetly amended, “Honey, I’m pretty sure that actually being pregnant makes you look pregnant.” Smart aleck.

But yes I’m kind of having a freak out about the body image thing. I still haven’t yet gained any weight, but I also haven’t lost weight which is a big improvement over my last pregnancy – by this time with Cade, I had lost about 10 lbs. So definitely making improvements, which is GREAT because at my already low body-weight I know that I cannot afford to lose even an ounce. I feel like I’m way too early to be showing, and I know that since I’ve already been pregnant before my skin is all gooey and stretchy and stuff, but it’s still weird and disconcerting. It’s definitely going to take some getting used to.

I’m not entirely sure my kid understands the fundamentals of underwear. We’re working on it. I’m hoping to have him peeing in the toilet before he’s 7.

Having a whole new treatment team has been interesting, too. My new dietician, E, is really good, but really different – I’ve never had a dietician before like her. I’m actually on a meal-plan that consists of doing exchanges, which is very weird for me, because I’ve never used them before. I have to fill in boxes for proteins and grains and fruits, etc, when I eat them, and there’s like a gazillion boxes I’m supposed to fill in each day, (she patiently reminds me that even if I wasn’t pregnant I’d need to gain a bunch of weight) and it stresses me out because I’m supposed to be eating enough to sustain a third world country for a day, or maybe a really hungry but kinda small army. I’m not filling in A L L the boxes every day, but man, c’mon. I’m working my way up; this is rough.

My new therapist W is pretty cool, though I’m not even joking when I say I’m terrified of the woman. She like looks at you with these piercing green eyes and my blood starts to curdle and I do whatever she says so she won’t, like, eat me or something crap I don’t know. She’s really good though, and I’ll admit I’m learning things and trying to come to terms with stuff I’ve never before allowed myself to do. Like maybe the fact I’m in denial – and not just about my ED. I think I live in denial in a lot of areas of my life, because it’s much more comfortable, you know? She also runs a group that I go to every Thursday afternoon, which has just been a real treat really interesting. I haven’t done the group thing in ages, and I normally shy away from groups because I feel like it can turn into a giant I’M SICKER THAN YOU competition, but so far the dynamics of the group are pretty healthy. I’m surprised it seems to be helping a bit.

I’m also seeing a new ED doc because my old one was psychotic. Seriously. Like, she should be slurping mush through a straw while wearing a straight-jacket psychotic. I just call ‘em like I see ‘em.

I’ve also been thinking about how much we’ve all sacrificed for our eating disorders. Our health, our education, but most of all, our friends. It makes me sad. It’s kind of hitting home on a really personal level right now.

I miss you guys. I need to get better at updating a bit more regularly. Hope you all had a fabulous long weekend, and wish me luck tomorrow with some medical tests that I’m
D R E A D I N G!
(Though no pelvic exam is required so that helps.)

LOVE YOU.

Snuggling

Last night I was curled up in bed, sweater on, hood pulled over my head, Hugger in hand, tired and sad and wanting to sleep, wanting to forget.

I hear the pitter-patter of little feet on carpet, I look up, and see Cade’s big blue eyes peering at me.

“Mama, can I snuggle with you? I promise I’ll be quiet I won’t make any noise pwease?”

This breaks my heart. My child could fart the national anthem for all I care. I’ll always want to snuggle with him.

“C’mere Honey. Momma loves snuggling with her Tade.”

And he is relieved and happily jumps in the bed, turns around, and presses his little diaper-clad bottom snug against my stomach. I have my arms around him, and I am smoothing his tangled hair, and I am thinking how much I love him, and how much I already love the perfect little being growing inside me. The love is almost too much. It is such a good feeling.

His breathing begins to slow, and his body starts to twitch like it does when you are on the verge of blissful sleep. This makes me smile. I am awed at how quickly he can fall asleep. A clear mind with nothing on his conscience, or nothing troubling him; that’s the kind of mind that can quickly fall asleep. I envy that.

It’s at times like these that I wish (and can almost convince myself) that my life wasn’t more than this. More than cuddling with my baby and feeling love and joy so tangible and real.

But yes, it’s more than that. It’s more trouble and denial and fear fear fear but it’s during moments like these that I am reminded life is Good and I praise God for giving me them; giving me brief glimpses that love and yes even something as small as snuggling is bigger than any fear or problem I could ever have.

I think of this, and then I fall asleep. Quickly.

Good News & Potentially Bad News

Had a really awesome OB appointment yesterday. I’d never met my new doc; she sees high-risk patients only, so I was referred to her by my old OB. But she was lovely and young and dressed cute and had a decent haircut and most importantly did not smear my pap yesterday. I got to see my sweet little darling’s good, strong heartbeat – it was at 184 bpm which is excellent. :) Call me corny but I almost cried. Just seeing the healthy heartbeat, and all that worry that’s been nagging at me just melted (well, almost completely) away. And it made this pregnancy real, and it reminded me that sacrificing my body and boobies and health and sanity for this little poppet is going to be so worth it. Being a mother is pretty rad. [pic my lima bean baby]

I was really upset about having to see a high-risk OB initially, because I hate the term HIGH-RISK and I also felt really lame seeing one…like I felt I’d be wasting her time when she has so many other patients to see who have real, serious medical issues. And then there’s me – with a pesky eating disorder and faulty lungs. I was muy embarrassed.

But it wasn’t that way at all. She knows I’m eating for the baby, and she’s happy I’m working with my treatment team, so she thinks everything should be fine unless I begin to lose weight, or eventually don’t gain – that will lead to hospitalization – but I don’t anticipate that happening at all.

Also have to get some heart and lung tests done next week – there could potentially be some pretty dangerous stuff there – but for now I’m remaining optimistic and only crossing the sucky lung disease bridge when and if I have to.

Cross your fingers for me and send happy baby vibes my way!

I'd like some extra schmear, please

As a requisite for the first pre-natal appointment at the OB, I must endure a pap schmear today.

Bring sanitary wipies...check

Claw Brandon's hand...check

Prepare for a face 2 inches from my nether-regions...eh...check

Hey I'm kinda hungry for a bagel and schmear.

Anyone else?