About to climb the skyscraper

Now that I am completely past my half-way mark, I find that it is much scarier on this side. I kept looking forward to 20 weeks; I know many people celebrate 26 weeks because it's viability day, but 20 weeks just seemed more significant to me. The halfway point is always encouraging. You're at the top of the mountain, see the great view and know you have an easy descent with a warm bed waiting.

But I no longer feel encouraged. In fact, it is not the relief I was hoping. It is like I took a long, horrid subway ride, and I ducked my head into the sunshine for a brief moment to the smell of hot dog vendors (their wares, really, not so much them). But my ultimate destination is the 50th floor of a highrise, and now I find out the elevator's broken and I have to climb 50 flights of stairs. I am just starting to climb those stairs. I'm sure I'll find by the time I hit 36 weeks that I really need to throw in a few more obstacles on my stair climb to fully describe what I'm going through.

My body is starting to feel very old. I sanded the walls of the basement on Sunday, and managed to pull a groin muscle. From sanding. I like to believe I really throw myself into my work, but pulling a groin muscle while sanding with my arm muscle is.... fail. It really is throwing myself into my work, I suppose,but only because my work happens to be the wall. This, on top of sciatic nerve hip pain, and I completely sound like my grandmother (may she rest in peace). Does this go away after you pop out the kid? Or is this really just the first step on the road to becoming a grandmother?

The last fear I'll leave you with tonight is from my birthing class. I really, really love the class, but it does leave me slightly terrified. I watched a human come out of another human's vagina tonight. Were you aware this is how it works? I think the one day I played hooky in High School was the day they must have covered this. I've seen this in Sci-Fi movies again and again: human gives birth to creature. Why am I all of a sudden supposed to believe this is normal?

Seriously Crunchy

I have always considered myself to fall on the crunchier end of the spectrum. In actuality, though, I am not very far left of center. I love me a hot shower and 70 degree house in a Minnesota winter. But seeing all my little diapers hanging on the line likely makes the neighbors think we're the crazy eco-threat to the neighborhood.

Though if I was truly crunchy, I would have planned better than to hang up my freshly prepped diapers right before a thunderstorm hit. Doh.

In other news: I performed my first belly check yesterday. That is, I tried to squeeze by my friend standing in a hall, only to completely knock her over due to my uncomprehended bulk.

Frivolous baby purchase

This brings my total of frivolous baby purchases to two, which is pretty damn good in my book. And damn, tell me this ain't cute? Good lord, I'm going to be one of those women. This comes from a lovely seller on Etsy...

Diaper World

Lordy! I'm not sure why, but I have been on a diaper-accumulation-spree. Partially because there are many good sales for earth day, but partially because I just can't stop myself. There is something about having a "stash" that makes me feel all warm and secure. Very squirrel like, stocking up my acorns. But these are diapers, how can they give me that feeling! I really don't know. But I am so proud of the stash I have now accumulated, all at amazing prices. I even had to write it all down, to finish off that warm and fuzzy feeling. So far:

• 12 infant prefolds
• 6 x-small thirsties covers
• More snappies than one really needs, certainly (6, I think. I was confused by what they do and went overboard)
• 6 small thirsties all-in-ones (v1, I think)
• 6 BumGenius 3.0 one-size
• 2 drybees bamboo fitted size 1

That's all for now. Though I think I need to exchange some of the thirsties covers for a size larger, 6 may be too many. And I'm in the midst of buying some Kissaluv 0's from a lady on the bump, along with a few more covers that I likely don't need (Bumkins, I think). Any cloth diapering mamas have any recommendations on where to go from here?

Yay! I got my first blog comment from a person I don't know. I'm not sure why, but this makes me happy. Somehow, the idea that people that don't even know me feel compelled to respond to my ramblings makes me happy.

It's a...

girl! We found out a few days ago, and I think it's really started to sink in. I confess, I was a little suprised, because I had myself entirely convinced that it was a boy. But I'm totally psyched... we're having a girl...

My thoughts on having a girl, thus far
1. I already feel a bit sorry for her future boyfriends. I think A will be the quintessential over-protective Dad.
2. I really don't like pink. I wonder if this is something I have any say in, or whether this just means she'll like pink that much more.
3. She's been kicking. A lot. This is a big part of the reason I thought it was going to be a boy, but it turns out she's just a kicker. She's likely to either be a soccer player or a hell-raiser. Or both. Oh dear.
4. I'd like to think I can do girl's hair and I won't try to convince her to chop it off. But if history is any guide, she may (like me) be doomed to short hair.

Best of all, though, is that everything was great in the ultrasound. No apparent causes for concern of any kind. In fact, nothing throughout this entire pregnancy has been problematic so far. I feel really, really blessed.

Came down with more food poisoning, or something of the sort, yesterday. I think my body is making up for the lack of hangover's by forcing me to puke for other reasons. Lord I hate puking. I think it has got to be the worst type of sickness, and it seems so frequent lately.

Other than that, we're starting to make our big ticket purchases. We ordered the crib and the car seat. We have one cheap-o stroller, which I hope to supplement by baby wearing and not need a second. I am, in fact, very excited about baby wearing. The idea of having a baby strapped to me all the time is actually really appealing; maybe because I've always liked kangaroos?

Impending sex

I'm sitting at my desk, doing work, and every once in a while I feel a little "tap-tap". I'll be in the middle of talking to someone and all of a sudden I'm not listening at all, I'm only wondering what's going on. Was that a kick? A punch? A head butt? Or I'll be deep in thought,completely forgetting there's another creature around, and all of a sudden I'm reminded. No, baby is not thinking about instrumental precision or global correlation of records; baby could care less. Baby is doing his own thing, thinking his own thoughts. So weird. It's odd to think I have two brains right now, and no clue what one of them is thinking.

This consistent motion just started yesterday; I felt things before that, but very rarely and very sporadically. I ::like:: this feeling, but mostly it's just odd. Hard to wrap my head around.

Next Wednesday we (hopefully) find out the gender. I feel like a relative is calling daily (often the same couple of relatives) asking if we know yet. Every time I say "Next Wednesday". Then they promptly forget and ask again two days later. Still, we don't know. Though I keep using "he" rather than "it", that's the closest thing to an inclination I have. My Mom called me yesterday; she finally gave in and *had* to buy a Momma and baby apron that was *so* cute. I scolded her early on about not going overboard and buying all sorts of things, and she's done really, really well. So I had to let her have this one, even though I warned her that I think it's going to be a boy.

Pregnant lady walks into a bar

I'm starting to realize that at some point it's going to be very awkward for me to go into a bar. Let me start by saying I am not imbibing in the bar, I stick to Coca-Cola Classic (which has been one of my only consistent cravings in pregnancy so far. That and brownies. Not too original here.) But I am part of a group of people that drinks. A lot. Daily, really. We are sometimes known as "geologists" but otherwise known as "drunkards". Our Thursday and Friday traditions involve a very dingy, smelly bar that was difficult for me during the morning sickness phase. Truly, it's kind of a Wednesday tradition as well. And then there's the Friday party. And the Saturday party. This is a week in the life of a geologist.

I continue to join in the weekly festivities, largely because I otherwise wouldn't see my friends. If you do a search for "geologist" and "beer" you'll see what I mean. In fact, the definition of Geologist in the Uncyclopedia starts "Geologists are 'scientists' with an unnatural obsession with geology (rocks and alcohol)." (BTW, I'm not really sure that sentence is logical, but you see what I mean).

But at what point can I no longer join? Or is there such a point? It's probably good that strangers look strangely at a pregnant lady in a bar. They're looking out for the future, right? But I always swore I wouldn't be one of those people who becomes a totally different person when they have kids. I haven't gotten to the have part yet, I'm still in the production phase. But if I give in now I'm doomed to be lame when I have a kid. And I'm still at that point where strangers generally won't ask if I'm pregnant because they might be wrong, but I'm pretty darn close to it. I need to start working on my comeback line now, I suppose.

Recovery

Well, I spent all day yesterday puking my brains out. Awful. No clue why, but of course I spent the day paranoid that it was more than a 24-hour bug. DH kept telling me it wasn't listeriosis but I kept thinking back to all the things I ate in Costa Rica that perhaps I shouldn't have. It seems to have passed, though my body feels completely wiped out. Perhaps as much from sitting inside, bed ridden, as anything else.

I must officially look pregnant, because people have started to ask. This was in Costa Rica, where I wasn't as covered up in sweaters, but it's nice to finally look pregnant and not just fat. I also had the first people request to rub my belly on Friday. They're friends, so I let them, but I still don't like it. I haven't really figured out how I'm going to respond to this. Chances are I'll just be passive aggressive and silently annoyed. *Sigh*

Last excitement on the horizon is finding out the sex in 2 weeks. I am shocked by the number of people who think it's awful I want to find out . I keep hearing "It's the last great surprise". Personally, I don't want any surprises at the birth. The more boring, the better. Furthermore, the majority of people who give me a hard time have never had a kid. I felt differently before getting pregnant, too. These are the same people who support a woman's "right to choose" but still feel they have the right to tell me what I should be doing. Irony.

Urushiol and mangoes

Just got back from Costa Rica late last night. Amazing trip, will post pictures soon. But at the moment, I feel compelled to write not about our trip but about an experiment I want to conduct on our kid.

When I was in Costa Rica, I ate mangoes. Because they are so, so good. I knew I was a little bit allergic to them, but it's been so long since I had one and I decided I didn't care. Well, as usual my mouth broke out. But I also got a rash on my hands, and yesterday I saw that it had spread to my legs. Itchy but not too itchy. A brief internet search this morning clears all this up. Mango is not actually in the fruit family, but is in the same family as poison oak and poison ivy. Which I am very, extremely allergic to. Apparently the skin of the mango contains an oil very similar to urushiol on the leaves of poison oak and poison ivy. If you've shown a previous reaction to poison oak or ivy you will likely show a reaction to mangoes.

BUT. Individuals from Israel who were first exposed to Mangoes, then to poison oak/ivy didn't show allergic reactions to either. My plan is to have my kid eat mangoes. Hopefully help him develop immunity to poison oak/ivy, which my dad and brother are also horribly allergic to. Any dermatologists out there? This is a study just crying to be conducted. My one data point will hardly be sufficient, but it is a compelling possibility. The idea of limiting poison oak/ivy allergies makes me giddy.

Karate kicks

I've been slacking in the blog department. But no more! I stopped by to see A on Sunday and he did another (short) ultrasound. I posted a few videos here, in particular this one:


Baby was so active!! Just kicking away, it's hard to fully see from these videos because they're so short, but it's amazing to me that I don't feel him yet (somehow all the violence in my abdomen seemed very male.)

But, alas, I must resist further ultrasounds. They're so tempting, because I have such easy access and it's so cool to see what's going on in there. But there is some slight evidence that they may be bad, such as "Prenatal exposure to ultrasound waves impacts neuronal migration in mice". Ours are very short for this reason, but it is likely best to avoid them in the future. *sigh*

Girls who like boys who like boys who like girls

A man got on the bus this morning. A very nice looking, older gentleman, maybe about 50. He provided ample ponderment for my bus ride. His hair was obviously dyed, likely even blow dried (something I put in the category of extreme male behavior). What I could not figure out was whether he was gay or a womanizer. (I realize the extremity of my stereotyping here.) Older gay gentlemen and older womanizing gentlemen are very hard to distinguish. Which I find ironic, because in some ways they are complete opposites. Or at least their tastes are complete opposites. Evolutionarily, this really doesn't make sense to me. You would think that what attracts other gay men would be different than what attracts women, but this is apparently not true, at least not in terms of appearance. Perhaps the only reason we like straight men is because they like us.

Addendum: Shortly before disembarking, I saw his cuff peek out from underneath his jacket. He was wearing a yellow shirt with blue polka dots. I decided he was a gay gentleman.

Note: Ponderment is not a real word. But it should be.

Baby is becoming a real concept. A real creature. In my belly. So it is inevitable that it dawn on me that baby is present for all my most personal moments. Not only present, but actually participating. When I take a crap? Baby feels that. Sex? Baby feels that too. Moments that I would normally not share with anyone, and yet I have no choice but to share them with baby. Maybe this is the beginning of the maternal bond, the loss of all privacy.

I've now begun my fourth month of pregnancy, and it amazes me how far I've come. But when I actually do the math, I've only been aware of Paras's presence for ~2 months, which is only ~33% of the total time I have left. Good lord, it's going to be a long year.

I felt my uterus yesterday; for those of you not up on baby progression, this was an external affair. This is something all the baby books tell you is possible around now, but which I've never really felt compelled to search for. But there it was, kind of unmistakable. A lot smaller than I imagine it in my head. A gentle reminder that all those period cramps that used to fill my stomach emanated from a very small place; a gentle reminder what a small space is capable of. Also a reminder that this beautiful baby belly that I'm getting is really just my internal organs and fat being pushed out.

I think I've left you with enough lovely mental images for the day.

I lost my feet today. I was in the shower, looked down, and they were gone. The feeling was slight panic. Similar, I imagine, to a child in the early stages of development, when an adult says "I got your nose! Where'd your nose go? It's gone!" and the child starts crying. They honestly are not sure it will ever come back. You were good feet.

Opposite Land

No picture this time. I feel like I need a picture in order to keep people's attention. I decided to post a link to this blog on facebook yesterday; I was very torn about doing so, because part of me wanted to keep it anonymous. I have a terrible habit of being too honest, saying exactly what I think about people, thinking there's no way they would actually read this. And part of me secretly hoping they'll read this, so they can hear what I think, but later regretting the decision. For these reasons, and my inane habit of putting my foot in my mouth and offending whole ethnic groups, weight classes or religions in one fell swoop, I hesitated. But my desire to not be speaking into a void got the better of me, my desire to be heard. And I've heard from a couple of you that you're entertained, meaning at least my embarrassing moments can be joy for someone. So onward I go.

So I've gotten many "Congratulations" about this whole business now that the word is out. It's apparently a natural sentiment, because everyone says it, but I find it an odd one. For a few reasons.
1) What if this was an accident? It wasn't, not that I'm sure I'd confess if it was, but do you congratulate people for accidents? And unless you know for sure, doesn't this make the sentiment thin ice?
2) You're essentially congratulating us for bumping uglies. That A's boys can swim. That my eggs... I don't think my eggs really did anything. Weird thing to congratulate.

I know that for some (many) people it is not so easy. There is much effort involved and thus congratulations are due. Perhaps it is just our own peculiar circumstances that make the whole thing a little odd, I'm sure many have earned those congratulations. For many, the boys didn't just swim, they had to learn freaking acrobatics.

Once you get pregnant, and even before that, you enter opposite land. Suddenly you can tell your parents "We're trying" and they're psyched that their little girl is having sex. This thing that you've tried for a decade or more to avoid suddenly becomes the sought after goal. This condition that would have embarrassed you in High School, and even in College, becomes cause for congratulations.

On a side note, but a happy one, I finally submitted my final revisions for my Master's thesis yesterday. I wash my hands of it. I take a few days off (thus blogging rather than working). I go buy maternity clothes. That is how I celebrate.

Brown chicken, brown cow.

I had an ultrasound last week for a Downs screen. During the exam I could see little hands move whenever the ultrasound tech. pushed on my belly. It was just amazing. It was the first time it clicked that this thing that's growing is actually human.

A was bummed he couldn't be at the ultrasound, so I stopped by the ER today and he did another quick ultrasound. It looks like there might be some thumb sucking! I researched online, and though there's some disagreement about when exactly thumb sucking starts, some place it as early as 7 to 9 weeks.

I also read that there's a relationship between prenatal thumbsucking and postnatal handedness, but unfortunately I can't quite figure out the orientation oft the baby relative to this picture. I think the head is down, which I think makes it the right hand, but I'm not sure.

Last thing I have to say, is that I got the first completely unnecessary baby item. But really, I think it was necessary. Brown chicken, brown cow?

So I managed to piss off the internet yesterday. Seriously. Like, the whole internet. Or so it felt. I made the mistake of posting a link to an article in the NY Times about a study linking obesity during pregnancy to increased rates of birth defects. I included a comment that I was finally doing something right, after feeling like daily I hear about all the things I'm doing wrong during pregnancy.

Sweet Jesus, Mary & Joseph! If there were e-pitchforks I would have been skewered. I managed to piss off hundreds (thousands, for all I know) of women on thebump.com. Ridiculous. They all apparently felt personally attacked and were convinced that I wish them ill and take joy out of other people being overweight. WHAT! I posted a link to a study. And every overweight woman felt I was personally out to get her. I guess I forget that people can take science and truth as a personal attack on them. I prefer to know what studies say, I'm not a fan of ignorance is bliss. It's up to you to filter the information, not me.

Anyway. Taught me a few lessons.

1) Because I can choose the content I visit on the internet, I find myself thinking that the spectrum of people on the internet are smarter, wittier and more interesting than the spectrum of people I meet in real life. That's not true. I know it's not true, but I forget. The internet is not created by a bunch of amusing gnomes that I don't encounter in the real world. And all those super annoying, dim-witted people I meet daily are some of the same people that are on the internet. I choose not to read their rantings, but when they choose to read mine I am subject to all their thick-headedness and ire.

2) A very small part of me enjoys pissing people off. But once it gets to a point that I can't talk them back down I no longer enjoy it. This means it's probably good I didn't pursue a career in law or politics, which I've so often pondered.

3) Sincerity is not translatable on the internet. I have a serious foot in mouth problem, always have. But in real life I can generally convince people I meant nothing by what I said, I just happened to say something stupid. On the internet, this doesn't seem to hold true.

Anyway, apologies to those I offended (not that they're likely to be reading this here blog.) Apologies to those I've further offended by this post. But please put your pitchforks away.

Musings

Quick note, then I must run for the bus.
1) I absolutely dread telling people I'm pregnant. Dh told all his coworkers yesterday. Me? I'd prefer to send an e-mail, or sic husband on them. Every time you tell someone there's so much drama. Women: screech and hug you. Ugh. Men: shift their gaze, look uncomfortable. No thank you. Yes, I'm pregnant. Now moving on.

2) I forgot number two. It was good though. Will post it later.

On Costa!

Map of the general area we're headed... won't be more specific because a) she deserves her privacy and b) I'm not exactly sure where on the map we're headed. Google street view hasn't exactly made it to backwoods Costa yet.


So we have booked our flight... a 'babymoon' of sorts though certainly not a traditional sit on your ass and watch waves sort of endeavour. We're headed to the Peninsula de Nicoya of Costa Rica. I visited there when I was 16 to see my friend who's family had whisked her there (permanently). I've only seen her a few times since then.

The last time was 5 years ago when I showed up on her doorstep in Oregon right as she went into labor. I stayed the night while she gave birth. It was strange but somehow felt normal. Inexplicable. Now I show up on her doorstep but will hopefully not be the one to go into labor.

So now the planning begins. How do we get from San Jose to her house? is 4-wheel drive necessary? Can we even find her on a map? I don't know the answers to all these questions, don't particularly have the time to find answers but know we somehow will. I'm psyched. This is exactly the sort of adventure I need before settling down into Mama-dom.

In other news, we visited our first child care option the other day. Before we went we were stoked about this place; super convenient to us, a center but a very small center. But ugh. Not impressed. Neither dh nor I wanted to admit it, but we were both turned off by the trashiness of the staff. Everyone seemed very nice, very loving to the kids, etc., but the vibe I got was more I heart Walmart than I heart Ikea. Not that those should necessarily be determining factors, and not that I'm proud of my bias, but if these are to be a child's adult role models I wasn't sure that I wanted them instilling their values into my child.

But, to be fair, that was the first place we visited. Perhaps we will find that nurturer (which I'm convinced is a role the staff would excel at) is a more important role for our children than educator and mentor. Ideally we'd like some place that has all of this but that isn't pretentious. Do such places exist? I do not know but aim to find out.

Procrastination Nation

Wow, I have no excuse for how unproductive I've been for the past 1.5 weeks. I have a Master's thesis I need to revise, and all I can do with my time is cruise baby message boards and read about cloth diapering.

The cloth diaper studying is necessary, turns out, because it's apparently one of the most complicated endeavors ever. Before doing anything, one should know the weight, the gender, the leg circumference, and generally how much time/money I feel like spending on each diaper. There are prefolds, fitteds, all-in-ones, pockets, etc. (am I forgetting anything?) and everyone has their own preference. I think this is the actual reason more people don't cloth diaper, because it's so freakin complicated. And it's a large investment, so one should really do their homework. Ugh. And I find myself frustrated, because I want to start acquiring my stockpile now, but I don't know what I'm having (i.e. I know I'm having a baby, just not what flavor.) And much as I'm a fan of gender neutral equipment, all the multipacks you can buy are gender specific. Frustrating, because I want there to be NO pink regardless of the gender. But I also don't intend to have my child dressed so gender neutral that no one can tell what it is. Why add confusion to sexuality unnecessarily? Anyway, my customer technique is to cruise sale websites and acquire things when they go on sale. But until I know the gender, I guess I'll have to wait. That will only give me 6 months (half joking)! And hopefully I won't be wasting so much time by then.

Anyway. In other news, the search for a baby name and child care has begun. Name: daunting to think how I may be scarring a child for life. Child care: daunting to think how much money it will cost, and guilt ridden to think I'm a bad mother before I've even begun for abandoning my child to a stranger.