Ambergontrail – Trying to get through life without dying of dysentery

I apologize for being invisible blogger! I’ve been swamped with family stuff, house stuff and work stuff. It seems I actually have to *gasp* WORK while at work! Lately I’ve been staying late, so when it’s time to get home I’m exhausted.

To be honest, I’ve been slacking around the house as well, Paul has been doing the laundry and I’ve just been tossing piles of clean clothes around- from the basket to the bed with the intent of folding it all. Then, it appears bedtime has snuck up on me, and I toss the clothes back into the basket. Don’t even get me started on dinner- anyone have an easy dinner idea they’d care to share (without the use of a crockpot)? I will hopefully be going to the Farmer’s Market today, and will be around some gorgeous fruits and veggies, if that gives anyone ideas!

Let’s see what else is happening… I think I felt some movement last night. I had just eaten some pudding (which I think is my go-to snack lately), and grabbed a glass of paradise iced tea- decaf. Since I had been feeling crampy/achey in my lower abdomen all day, I thought I’d get up on the pile of clothes I call a bed and relax. As is the case with almost all naps I take, I rested my palm on my lower belly and settled in to watch The Simpsons. As I was sitting there I felt a squirm deep in my belly. I didn’t move, but kind of took stock of what was going on. Yep, there it was again, the feeling that something was moving around. Unfortunately that was the last time I felt it, but wow!

As I mentioned, my lower abdomen has really been hurting lately. It doesn’t feel like cramps, really, more like achey and sore. If I understand correctly, this is round ligament pain- my uterus is stretching to make room for baby. Of course, this makes me happy and I’ll gladly withstand the aches for this opportunity!

So, it’s officially ONE WEEK until the baby’s sex is hopefully found out! I can’t believe I’m 19 weeks pregnant.

Now that I’ve sort of “popped” a bit, things are starting to get interesting. Not only is my belly super tight at night, now it’s starting to stretch during the day, too! My belly button is starting to turn inside out a bit and I honestly think my butt is getting bigger. I’m okay with all of this, just mystified at what the body does when left to its own devices!

Funny enough, a month or two ago Paul and I went to Target to get toilet paper and paper towels and that random junk you pick up even though you know you don’t really need it. While there I tossed a pack of Hanes “Fit For Me” boyshorts into the cart, thinking it’ll be good to get undies that can accomodate my growing tummy and hips. When I tried them on at home, they were comfortable and soft, but had one tiny problem: the butt was too big for MY butt. Since I had gotten the “ladies of larger sizes” type affectionately referred to as “Fit for Me”, my tiny pin-sized heiny was far from filling up the underwear. So, I put it away. Yesterday I was griping to Paul about needing to get more underwear, this time in a larger size (since I have already busted the side seams on a few pairs). I thought about the Fit for Me pairs and tried them on (I’m wearing them now, btw). Well, I was right, not only does my stomach pop over the waistband, but now my butt completely fills up the seat.

I HAVE A BUTT!

Have you guys seen this? Of course, it’s on MTV (the channel that brought us Engaged and Underage), and I’m assuming they’re trying to market themselves to the teens who enjoyed “Juno”. Basically, this series follows pregnant teens through pregnancy and beyond. Every so often they end a segment with a line-drawing of a scene we just watched end on a sheet of animated lined paper. The title of the show and the various interruptions (“24 Weeks Pregnant”, or “Farrah’s House”) are even in a hand-written block style ala Juno. Man.

I’ve only seen two episodes, but already I can feel my stress level rising with each full-hour episode. Let’s see, the first one  was a girl named Maci, who had moved in with her fiance and is planning to graduate early. Luckily for them, Maci and her fiance Ryan have a bunch of supportive family members- too bad Ryan is a moron who doesn’t realize what goes into having a baby. Maci enrolled in accelerated education and busts her ass to try to graduate before she pops. At their last appointment the doctor tells her she’s already dilated a centimeter and a half, and the baby could show up anytime. Being brain trusts, she and the daddy decide to go FOUR-WHEELING WITH FRIENDS. Seriously. She felt too pregnant to continue and they rush to the hospital. Little Bentley is born soon after. Once home, Ryan spends most of his time with his friends, making plans while she’s sitting with the baby, feeding the baby and changing the baby. He never asks her to come along, never tries to help. She asks him to get the screaming baby while she’s cramming for school. He doesn’t. So she gets up and gets the baby and gives him to Ryan. While she’s making a formula bottle in the bathroom sink, Ryan yells at her to make the bottle. She yells back that she is. They yell back and forth a bit more as Ryan leaves the baby on the bed screaming his lungs out. The scene was heart-wrenching. Isn’t it instinct to PICK UP THE SCREAMING CHILD?? Finally, Maci graduates, but can’t enjoy the party with her friends and family- little Bentley needs a diaper change. Does Ryan offer? Nope. Duh, I forgot, douchebags don’t change diapers. The rest of the episode is filled with fighting and the two coming to the conclusion that they have to work it out. If you ask me, I think she’s moved out and he’s still out partying with his idiot friends.

Episode two: the story of Farrah the cheerleader. She’s popular, cute and a brat. She’s also three months pregnant. Soon people begin to talk and gossip about the pregnant cheerleader. Her cheer friends stop talking to her and she leaves high school and enrolls in community college to get her credit online. The baby’s daddy isn’t in the picture, and her mom is controlling but also seems to know what she’s talking about. When she tells Farrah it would be good to consider adopting her baby out, Farrah says, “No, we’re keeping her.” At six months pregnant she accepts a date with a co-worker who ends up blowing her off. Her mom says it’s a good thing, and tells her to focus on school. Farrah tells her mom that when she doesn’t do her school work, she likes to go out and have fun in her spare time. Duh, Mom, don’t you try to tell her to be responsible. During their tour of the labor and maternity ward, Farrah asks about inducing and how it works. The guide says, “Well, they don’t induce you before your due date, so don’t worry about it.” Her mother interjects with this gem, “Oh please, don’t even ask this. That baby is going to shoot out of you like a banana.” Really?!?! So, Farrah’s water breaks while sleeping (my nightmare- hello waterproof sheets) and she heads to the hospital. Five hours later she has the baby and when seeing the baby for the first time says, “She has something on her face, clean it off!” Yeah, it’s called VERNIX, dipshit. It’s what happens when YOU HAVE A FREAKING BABY. She gets home and changes the baby on the dinner table (only putting a blanket on there when her grandpa tells her she can’t just place the baby on there like that) and walks away to throw away the diaper, leaving the baby just hanging out on the table. The baby acts like a newborn and cries all night, pissing off Farrah, who asks her mom how much help she’s going to give her at night (while griping to the camera about how her mom is bothering her all day, but when the sun is down she’s no help at all), and receives this response, “None, I need my sleep” The rest of the episode is interspersed with Farrah having fits and crying when her mom tells her the car she’s getting isn’t going to be a Ford Focus. Seriously, I can’t even continue the rundown, it’s painful. The show makes me want to throw up, no joke.

Basically it’s a horror story in a one hour format- idiots who can’t use birth control ending up with babies.

Baby Rundown

I decided I’m going to do this weekly now, and include a belly pic. If no belly pic appears- NAG ME!

How far along? 18w3d as of today!
Total weight gain/loss: Um, as of the 16 week appointment, nothing. Maybe a few more pounds as of today? I don’t own a scale.
Maternity clothes? So far only the yoga pants (I daren’t purchase jeans as my midget legs can’t take the depression), and a few tops. Luckily I just buy the oh-so-fashionable baby-doll tops and that gets me through.
Stretch marks? Yes, a long itchy one on my belly.
Sleep: Pretty good barring the thrice nightly peeing and the necessity for a body pillow.
Best moment this week: I’m finally showing a bit. Begone “Preg or Plump?” question!
Movement: Nothing yet. Sadness.
Food cravings: A grilled cheese with avocado and ramen.
Gender: Two more weeks to find out!
Labor Signs: None
Belly Button in or out? In, but quickly shallowing out.
What I miss: Being able to sleep on my back without guilt and pain. I miss regularity of pooing.
What I am looking forward to: the big ultrasound in two weeks!
Weekly Wisdom: Enjoy being pregnant, it goes by so fast!
Milestones: Um… finally showing a bit, planning our nursery.

Since I’m a larger lass to begin with, I saw no purpose to belly pics until something actualy SHOWED. Despite that, here’s a tip for the early preggos, or someday preggos: Take at least ONE baseline picture. I honestly saw no difference from the pic I took last night and what I thought I looked like, 14 weeks ago.

Here are the belly pics in their glory, up to now. Okay, I’ve only taken some for weeks 15, 16 and 18.

Week 15, wearing my Christmas PJ pants with dogs on them. Yes, sad.

I am not looking quite as fantastic as I usually do.

15 Weeks with a bare belly

Now, this is 16 Weeks, wearing my Motherhood Maternity Yoga pants. Which- by the way, are SO soft and SO comfortable.

The shirt is down here

Pulling up the shirt and showing the gut

This is taken yesterday, at 18 weeks and 2 days. I can no longer suck in, and everything is OUT now. Same pants (as I told you, COMFY!) different shirt. Not the same towels, just the same color.

I wish we had different colored towels.

Now, the bare belly 18w2d shot.

The blinding whiteness of it all!

There you have it, my belly pics up to now. It sure appears something is growing, eh?

Great as in large, not “good”. Doesn’t that sound like the title of a crappy Lifetime movie? Anyway, as commenters/readers can see, I often go back and forth with my moods. For some reason, today seems to be a “take offense at every comment that isn’t directed at me, or something I said”. I’m doing this at work, I’m doing this reading other blogs, I’m a mess.

Can I blame the hormones? Last night I was tossing and turning (which believe me, is hard enough to do with your leg hooked around a body pillow, not counting Paul rolling into my general area), and kept thinking I was feeling movement. Guess what it was? The wonder of pregnancy known as Gas. It’s actually pretty funny when you think about it. I actually laughed to myself as I was careening into a deep sleep.

When I woke up this morning, I had set my alarm for ten minutes earlier, so I could buy some milk for my variety of “eat at work” cereals. It sucks to be starving at work, yet to be loaded with a small collection of dry cereals but no milk. It was taunting me, the Cheerios in the bright yellow package. Anyway, I woke up, turned on the news, got dressed (I’m a night showerer) and crawled back into bed. For some reason, this morning just felt off.

After I finished the morning routine, Paul and I went to work (he drops me off every morning) and I prepared to do some work. Instead, I’m sitting here reading and blogging, pondering which cereal I’m going to eat. Ahhh, the choices are unlimited. Okay, really, they’re limited, but there are still a lot of choices!

Of course, now that I’ve had a chance to relax and sit back in my chair, I don’t want cereal. Dang! Honestly, I don’t know how Paul can live with me. Basically this post is a rambling bunch of words that show how unstable I am at any moment. Sorry folks.

I’m planning a bridal shower on Saturday when all I want is to go see “UP” and spend time with Paul and Woofie. Instead I’ll be spending the night away from Paul in the valley, surrounded by ladies gearing up for a wedding, and while I totally remember the giddyness of this time, I feel so far removed from wedding plans, as I’m now immersed into planning for this baby, and counting down until the next appointment.

I bet I’m not the only one wishing I had just pulled the covers over my head and snuggled deeper into that bed.

Lest one think I’m ungrateful or too neurotic about this pregnancy (or just complaints) I’ve been contemplating doing a post about the things I find fantastic about my pregnancy. Since I can’t sleep just yet, now is better than ever!

1.) We’re having a BABY!

2.) My nails are KICK ASS right now. Seriously, after being a life-long nail biter with thin, peeling nails, I marvel at the length and durability of the nails I have grown. They’re luscious- whether due to the vitamins or hormones or a combination of both, I dunno. If only I can get over my paranoia about nailpolish, so I can cover these babies and make them look like a manicure!

3.) When I finally get to sleep, I sleep like the dead. Well, I get up to pee 3-4 times a night, but fall back into bed soon after. After being an insomniac for many years, I appreciate this like nobody’s business.

4.) I love the joy the baby news has brought to our families- it makes me happy to know they are as excited as we are!

5.) The cravings for salads and fruit can’t be beat.

6.) I’ve gotten to know so many fabulous people who are also pregnant, and become part of this whole new world or pregnancy.

7.) I’m quite enjoying the bonding and stories from famiy members who want to share their stories with me.

8.) Seeing the wonder in Paul’s eyes when we got those glimpses of the baby just jumping away inside me- knowing this baby is a manifestation of our love.

9.) Watching Paul jump up when I put my hand on my tummy and go, “Uuugh” (from Gas pains), exclaiming, “IT IT MOVING??”

10.) Have I mentioned HAVING A BABY??

This weekend I watched two baby/birth related movies. One I’ve seen many, many times (it was our personal DVD) , and the other I saw for the first time Saturday night. It was early, but Paul wanted to turn in soon, so instead of my usual stay up late in the living room watching “What Not to Wear” and DVRed episodes of “Bridezillas” and “16 and Pregnant” (which I’ll blog about soon) Saturday routine I decided to take the laptop into the bedroom and watch a Netflix on demand movie in bed.

To start with, it’s incredibly hard to get comfortable when every way you move makes you UNcomfortable.  In the end I just used my body pillow as a back/neck rest and propped the laptop on my belly with a hefty bunch of blankets as a buffer. I clicked onto Netflix and started watching, “The Business of Being Born”.

Before I start on my opinion, I think I’ll give you a little backstory on Me, and why I wanted what I wanted childbirth-wise.

Now, I’m the second child of not married hippies. I was born in 1979, my brother was born in 1976. Being “children of the earth”, my parents wanted a natural childbirth with their first, so they decided to have their firstborn in a birthing center with no medicine and no interventions. My mom went into labor and labored for 72 hours. They went to the birthing center early, and labored there. Then they were sent home to labor in comfort soon after, when it was clear she wasn’t ready for birth yet. As the days passed (yes, DAYS), she finally went into the center intent on giving birth. The labor was insanely painful- my brother was in distress and was rubbing against her spine. Finally, when my brother was born, the cord was wrapped around his neck twice, and he was blue. Meconium was in the water, which is usually a sign hospitals take as  “WE MUST GET THAT BABY OUT NOW!”, and he wasn’t breathing. Eventually he came to, but would go on to be hospitalized days later after dying a few times (for a small amount of time). My parents didn’t know it at the time, but my brother should have been out days before-as it goes my brother has a permanent bald spot where his head rubbed against her spine. My birth, on the other end of the spectrum completely, was in a clean clinical hospital (without drugs, still) with a labor that lasted four hours. The birthing center my brother made his entrance into the world was closed, and is now a baby gym on a busy street in Southern California. I’ve been adamant that my child would be born in a sterile environment, with doctors nearby to help with my birth- and an epidural and c-section.

Before watching the “Business of Being Born” I wondered how much of it was propaganda and scare tactics. Of course, after watching it I wondered if I would be able to give birth naturally- not to the the extent of a water birth- but in a hospital with a vaginal birth sans epidural. Previously I assumed I would need a c-section because the babies on Paul’s side are notoriously large. Paul was nearly 11 pounds, his sister (who is now barely 100 pounds) was nine pounds and his brother the smallest- at ALMOST nine pounds. I have a pretty small pelvis, so was worried that I’d not be able to do it. The movie reinforced what I knew about c-sections, and the way they explained laboring in the hospital made sense.

Basically they explained it as this: you go into the hospital with your birth plan (let’s say it’s vaginal birth with no epidural), but they don’t let you labor as long as your body needs, so they break your waters and induce you. Pitocin is given to help you dilate, which brings with it more intense, painful contractions. With these contractions, you can’t take the pain (I believe the pitocin contractions are insanely more painful than normal contractions), and request an epidural. Meanwhile, the contractions are no longer hurting you, but with each one, the baby is getting squeezed and put under more duress, causing his heart to slow down with each contraction. The doctors become increasingly concerned with the well-being of the baby, and tell you they think a c-section is going to be necessary soon, unless you dilate to 10 centimeters before a certain time. It really does make sense, I think. Of course, it’s terrifying when you think of it.

So, as I watched I began to question my “choice” for a c-sec and epidural. I’ve decided that our birth plan is such: vaginal birth with no epidural unless my vasovagal syncope makes it difficult. Then I’d like to attempt a vaginal birth with an epidural. I’m not afraid of the blown out vagina, I just want the baby out in the quickest, safest way possible. My only fear at this point is the possibility of not being able to deliver vaginally (epidural or no) either due to a posterior birth or a problem with the baby, and I’ll end up with a c-sec anyway, which happened to quite a few of my friends. There is so much about birth that is out of our hands, it seems.

There wasn’t a life-changing lesson to be learned from the movie, as it really was one-sided, but it was a good documentary. Amazingly it did leave me believing that perhaps I COULD deliver vaginally after all.

The next movie was “Knocked Up”. I love this movie, and I have since I saw it in the theater. It has comedy, joy, sadness and strength, and the most shocking crowning scene (where is her pubic hair? Did she have a full wax before birth???) ever imagined in your wildest nightmares. I don’t know if there is anything to be learned from that movie, other than thanking God I conceived with my husband and not a one-night stand. Still, I can watch it constantly. All in all it was a movie that is fun to watch, and of course, quote from freely. After watching I got giddy, watching the ending with the baby (and baby pictures!) I think to myself, “We can do this.”

I guess I should watch all the movies I can before I have no more time left, eh?

**Editor’s note below

** If anyone knows me, or has read any of my blogs, they’d know I’m sarcastic, I’m self-deprecating, and I’m honest. I’m also a major, MAJOR ball of worry. Whether it be about my asthma, my pregnancy, Paul’s health, a friend’s baby, my Dad’s unemployment, my mom’s unemployment, my brother and his family in Sydney, I worry all the time. Usually I throw myself into something to assuage this worry, to put it on the back burner. This post is about that. For some reason- perhaps it was the many tries it took me to get pregnant, or the fact that my inexplicable weight gain from years back that many thought was the reason it took us so long is still a threat, but I CAN NOT BELIEVE I’M PREGNANT. I KNOW I’m lucky (I seriously cry nearly every night) , but until I can know everything is okay for sure, I’m not going to believe it. I had to create something to get me to each milestone, because just making it every week isn’t helping my brain/heart finally relax and know all is okay. For me, it won’t be okay until I have that baby in my arms and it’s breathing and healthy. Of course, I know this “competition” isn’t real,  but I have nothing else to bring the silly side of me out-to distract me. This make believe rivalry of sorts brings me to a happier place where I can tell her (as I already have), “You felt something? LUCKY!” Honestly, I can’t bring myself to plan ahead as a distraction, I just can’t, I go to work each day, plan my night and mark off another day on the calendar. Call me a pessimist, but I do what I have to do to get to that next day. It seems to me that pregnancy is literally a day by day, week by week struggle to maintain your hope. Call me unhealthy, or imagine that I’m ungrateful (which you’d be SORELY mistaken to believe) but I see it as a person who tries take each step as it comes all the while waiting for the next one, and hoping it’ll all turn out okay. Thanks for listening.

The first rule? Don’t talk about the baby fight club. No, really, the first rule? Don’t be a jealous bitch, like me.

I’ve gotten myself into an imaginary competition/rivalry with a gal on my pregnancy board. I’ve “known” her since we were both getting engaged/married, and she also lives in So.Cal. She’s a year younger than I am (gasp!) but I think she’s been married a few months longer than I was. Why the rivalry, you ask?

Well. I was a veteran of a TTC forum, my reign there was with three other gals (the Golden Girls, as I refered to them) who had begun at the beginning of the board as well, and we welcome new TTCers, hoping that we wouldn’t be there that much longer, so we could pass the torch. This “rival” started TTC at around my 11th month of TTC, and got pregnant right away. DAG! Must have been those fresh new eggs she was shooting out, that youngin. Amazingly, that cycle I ALSO got pregnant.

She immediately jumped onto the preggo board, while I was a little more hesitant. Our appointment was set for my 6th week, where I had an ultrasound. Her first apppointment wasn’t until we were in our 9th weeks, where she wouldn’t even get an ultrasound (which SUCKS, right?). After my second appointment, I found out I was due the day after her!

As any woman knows, you compare yourself to other people in the same place in life that you are. Engaged? Let’s see the rings. Married? Who had the “better” wedding. Pregnant? Who can reach the milestones sooner? Well, she beat me.

I’m not showing so much as my layer of baby protection (disguised as fat) is hardening, making me look like I did before, with a harder belly. She’s showing now. Movement? All I’ve felt was the rumbling of my stomach when I smelled food nearby. This past weekend, she felt movement, not only that- but her HUSBAND felt movement. DAMN! Now, I know thinner women feel movement sooner, I totally understand that, but still- I want movement!! Damn her and her “healthyness”.

Thus I have created a mental competition between us, the final showdown being birth- who does it first?

Nope, it’s not a spelling error, I’m talking about the collection of urine spattered pregnancy tests I still have in my bathroom. Technically they aren’t spattered, and for every test I took, I peed in a cup, NOT on the stick. After the deposit was made in the non-refundable gatorade cup, I dipped the stick and replaced the cap- RIGHT AWAY.

So why am I keeping the tests? Well, this is my first pregnancy and I like the reminders. I pull out the drawer, and see row upon row of pregnancy tests (in a baggie) that gave me so much joy.These tests reveal the momentous occasion upon which our whole lives are changed. I look at them and remember taking the tests.

First response early result #1: very faint line, I remember holding this up to my face after watching the first line come up very definitively, with the second line began to fill in. This is the test I took into the kitchen and laid in front of Paul’s face (yes, on the counter- IT HAD A CAP!) to see if he too, saw the faint line.

The little dollar store one that I bought two of: Hey, they were a DOLLAR. At this point I was still just 7 weeks pregnant. When I told Paul what I had bought (ah, also had candy galore)  he was incredulous, “You already KNOW you’re pregnant!” Perhaps, grasshopper, but I would like to check to make sure I STAY pregnant. So, the tests were purchased. Of course, they were partially in Spanish, but they came with a super cute dropper, to drop the “samples” onto the cassette thing. The dropper was adorable! So, I washed it out and everything, but Paul walked in and was like, “Amber, that is disgusting! Why are you keeping it?” Um, because it was a tiny dropper? Fine, so I tossed it.

So I kept my tests, yes, it’s weird. They’re not posing a biological hazard to anyone just yet, and I WILL throw them out, but since they still have their little lines, I still like to see them. I’m a weirdo.