Wednesday, July 01, 2015

Missing things...

I'm going to be very honest here, because why not - I miss not being pregnant. It's something I've struggled with for 31 weeks now - so much so that therapy is necessary (and helpful) but there are still days that I want to curl up in a ball, cry, and just wait for this to be over*.

Today I'm feeling particularly self-indulgent and at the risk of sounding ungrateful, here's a list of the latest things I miss, now 31 weeks into this:

  1. I miss just falling asleep, on my back, without something constantly moving inside me
  2. I miss being able to write uninterrupted without something moving inside me
  3. I miss being peaceful without something moving inside me
  4. I miss being alone
  5. I miss life without unsolicited advice
  6. I miss people saying hello and what's up instead of how are you feeling and how far along are you
  7. I miss people asking about me & my life instead of this baby's progress
  8. I miss my body not being the center of attention
  9. I miss life not revolving around some pill, supplement, or medicine I have to take
  10. I miss having sex like a normal person instead of a hippo
  11. I miss eating real meals
  12. I miss seeing a beauty of a summer dress in the mall and being able to try it on
  13. I miss loving to cook
  14. I miss being able to bend over
  15. I miss running
  16. I miss making changes
  17. I miss people filtering
  18. I miss not seeing a Dr for months
  19. I miss long non-sober talks with friends about life and crazy dreams
  20. I miss my friends who do not have babies
  21. I miss my room of my stuff all organized and pretty
  22. I miss my life not revolving around some part of pregnancy
  23. I miss traveling
  24. I miss being nimble
  25. I miss feeling like myself

*We don't talk about it; because we still like to believe in the mythical pregnancy, (Pregnancy is the best! Pregnancy makes you glow! Every girl waits her whole life to be pregnant! It's the best decision you'll ever make!) but pregnancy depression is a real thing. It doesn't have to be postpartum. As someone who has (is) living through it, if this is you - please tell your doctor. Getting treatment, whatever that may be for you, really does help. And hopefully so does knowing you are not a bad person, a freak, crazy, or alone.

Thursday, June 04, 2015

Summer


The weather in Rochester hasn't committed to it being summer yet. Some days it's 85, some days it's 55. Either way since we're in the last summer Matt and I will ever have as a twosome, I thought I'd make a list of things I hope to do before Labor Day (which just happens to match the general go! time for this babe.)

  1. Lay on the sands of Ontario Beach
  2. See Rochester's version of Shakespeare in the Park
  3. Read The Widow Clicquot in the hammock (as recommended by a new friend and subsequently dream of the day my body will accept VC again with open arms)
  4. Find a yoga studio I like so that after the baby comes I can escape
  5. Make a trip for dinner to Mr. Chicken
  6. Take full advantage of Club V's swimming pool and new heater
  7. Finally track down Elderflower Presse and lazily drink on Grace's front porch
  8. Take down all of the doors in the house and have a painting party to just get 'em all done outside
  9. Celebrate the Fourth of July with friends/family and make that traditional berry flag cake
  10. Make one more trip to Canada as a twosome, and if I can manage to sit that long, let it be Toronto

Wednesday, May 20, 2015

My hope


My hope is that this baby will be born with a head of crazy dark hair, piercing blue eyes, and freckles so that I'll know it's mine. Because so far, along with the fact that it's a boy, this babe is all Matt.


How do I know? Here are the top 5:
  1. Since I've been pregnant, I've eaten more sweets than I have in my entire non-pregnancy life. I'm a savory person, but this baby is basically requesting the diet of a humming bird (just like his father). Thank goodness fruit counts. Also my taste for candy has flipped 180. Sponge candy or chocolate? Out! Skittles*, in! Skittles? Who am I?
  2. Cereal - I must eat it as least once a day. With loads of real whole milk. I could  (if I allowed myself) eat it for every meal, with a side of watermelon of course. Though Matt would eat Cinnamon Toast Crunch instead of my Shredded Wheat (and drop the watermelon) this is his dream diet - not mine.
  3. Why yes, I HAVE ordered ice cream in public, eaten it, and then gone back up to order and eat more. And no, I felt no shame.
  4. The baby never stops poking me. Ever. He is in constant need of my love and attention, similar to a puppy...or his father. I bet one of the first faces he makes is involves his bottom lip sticking out with sad puppy eyes.
  5. Speaking of the fact that he never stops moving - the way he moves is so Matt. It's like the womb is too small and cramped. Matt does this thing when he's in too tight of a space (in reality or in his head) where he starts tossing his shoulders like a line-backer. That's what this baby's "kicking" is like - I would bet it's all shoulder tossing.
We're past the mid-way point and to be honest, I couldn't be more happy about that. I love Matt with my whole heart, but having a mini-Matt living inside me has made me realize how much I like being just me. It's a job I'm happy to do, but I have to admit I do not have that mythical pregnancy glow. But we're near the home-stretch, I can see it. Light at the end of the tunnel girl...look to the light.

*Can we talk about Skittles for a second? WHEN did green change from lime to green apple?! And who made this change?! They should be taken out back an whipped silly. Thanks for ruining the only Skittle flavor I ever loved, jerks!

Sunday, May 03, 2015

How did we get here


So the conversation went something like this as we stared out the window at our snow covered cars and the 4 ft snow ruts in the road:

"There's got to be a place in the rest of the country where it is not snowing in May."

"Maybe a place where 80 degrees is not a myth."

"A place where the sun shines and walking outside doesn't cause my face to hurt."



And then there was another conversation over a fish fry in a diner that went like:

"I need a vacation. A real one where I have no obligations and no requirement to see people I know."

"I have points. Where do you want to go?"




And then one during an existential breakdown that went like this:

"Someday we have to live someplace bigger than Rochester. Some place different for a while."

"Some place where it doesn't snow for 6 months and there is bigger thinking."

"What do you know about this Austin place people keep telling us is cool."

"I hear there is a lot of music."



And so we ended up in Austin, Texas thanks to an incredibly generous gift of two flights and a hotel room from my father. Apparently some people are calling this our babymoon. A little too twee for me, but I get the sentiment; the last leg of the 3 hour flight was a little rough on my hips.


It's been worth it. What we ate-saw-did was oddly a little less of the story this time (though it was all fantastic and I'll share that next). This time it was really about letting my body thaw. Sleeping in on a mattress that doesn't hurt my back. Laughing endlessly with my husband as we wove through a surprisingly hilly, green, and beautiful Texas (three things I never thought I'd say) while we make up words like Gobo. Waking him up by singing a Deedle original requesting just one pancake. And freeing my hips from the strain of this belly in a hotel pool for an hour just because I could.


There's been no pressure. None. No time lines, no coats, no have-tos, no expectations, no planning, no alarm clocks. And sure, there are a lot of bros in Austin (I'm pretty sure the median age here is 25) but other than the oddity of it - who cares. I'm warm, I'm happy, and I'm actually relaxed. Three things that for months now I didn't think were possible.