When do you become a parent? When you conceive? When you first see that little blob with the yolk sac still attached? When you feel her booting away at your insides? Or is it when she is born and you hold her for the first time, marveling at the miracle you helped to create?
From the second you suspect you’re pregnant your mind is on the baby. Keeping it healthy, keeping it THERE. You take your vitamins, you refuse hot dogs and lunch meat, you refrain from sushi, coffee and even tea. You eat things you know are good for the baby (like liver and other iron rich foods), and you drink gallons of water, despite how the very taste of it makes you nauseous. It’s funny, the tiniest thing inside you makes you the most aware of what you’re doing and how you’re living your life. Hell, i gave up nail polish for 20 weeks!
Due to my fear of hair coloring while building people, I now have a Pepe le Peu (Pew?) stripe going through my hair, which is actually looking pretty darn hip, my friends. Pregnancy does some odd things to your thoughts- MUST PROTECT THE MINIATURE BALL OF CELLS!
I feel like I became a parent when that stick had two pink lines. After all, what does a parent do? Nurture, love, protect, feed and clothe (I built that amniotic sac, missy! Don’t you try mess with that umbilical cord I worked so hard to provide!), give shelter to, provide as much as possible for their children. Yep, I’m doing that right now. ALL women who carried children (successfully or otherwise) are parents. They did everything possible to nurture their embryo/fetus, right?
Now, as we begin to get the room ready, get the crib set up, and start planning our birth plan- I realize something- I’m going to be a mother, and I’m finally ready.
Last night something new happened… I was laying in bed next to Paul, watching TV, when Piper began to move inside me. It’s funny, from day one of your pregnancy you’re worried nothing is going on in there. Once you feel it, it really begins to feel real, and your worries die down almost instantly. That’s another subject, though.
Up until recently, Paul has felt random pops and twitches, not consistently. Last night, however, was different. He had put his mouth to my belly and was saying hello, kissing my belly. What happened next? She kicked him in the mouth.
He was stunned. He put his hands on my belly to feel her rolling and poking around in there, then put his mouth to it to speak to her again. Yet again, she kicked him in the face. He put his cheek to hear inside- kicked in the face.
How far along? 24 weeks 4 days Total weight gain/loss: I’ll find out tomorrow. Eeek. Maternity clothes? Yessir Stretch marks? Yes, at least two new ones on my belly. Sleep: A ton of time spent peeing, still some sleep going on. Best moment this week: She’s moved up by my bellybutton and was rocking out! Movement: All day long, especially with juice. Food cravings: Cheese sauce! Ice cream cones. Gender: Girly Labor Signs: None Belly Button in or out? She’s almost gone. What I miss: Not hurting myself getting out of bed. What I am looking forward to: Trying out strollers. Weekly Wisdom/ Snide Comments: “Wow, you could go any day now, huh?”. Milestones: Getting punched from the inside.
Pictures!!!
Check it out, baby.
Beware, nakey shot coming:
Eeeeeeee! MY EYES!!
I swore I’d never go topless on the internet again. HA. Joke.
As I mentioned many times before, “Knocked Up” is my favorite movie lately. I could watch the movie all day long and never ever get tired of it. Pre-preg (shall I come up with a name like, P.P.?) I had another go-to pregnancy/childbirth movie: “She’s Having a Baby”. You can find the synopsis here. This couple struggled with infertility, and she temped! Anyway, the movie has a twist that you can’t expect.
So, because of that ending, I’ve chosen to stay away. Which is why “Knocked Up” is on rotate. When I watch that movie, my favorite part is the ending, they have the baby, they’re happy, they’re with their friends. I especially like this song, as you may see why.
The lyrics of this song are adorable: “That’s my daughter in the water, everthing she knows I taught her…” and “Every thing, she sees, she says she wants. Every thing, she wants, I see she gets.” It just makes me giddy thinking about our own “daughter” we’re expecting, knowing she’s going to have Paul wrapped around her little finger. When I hear this song I feel no worry.
Okay, so I’m totally lagging here. I DID have plans to take a picture of my belly last night, but when I got home early, Paul and I crawled into bed to get some of that “sleep while you still can” sleep everyone has been telling us to savor.
Things, they are a changin’, if I could paraphrase Bob Dylan for a moment. The belly is here to stay (for at least 16 more weeks, okay PJ?), and now I feel more movement. My belly actually moves on its own, now. Late last night, I was reading my book and I felt something that wasn’t really gas bubbles. No, it was an actual tiny human, with tiny bones and thin skin and little eyebrows becoming more and more defined by day- moving in my belly. Now she never stops.
I can’t keep my legs together when I sit upright, unless I move my belly up to get my legs together. Now I sit in the most unladylike position- legs spread wide, splayed as if I was in the gynecologist’s office. So classy. My belly continually sticks to my thighs, my underwear is never where I left it last- it has taken to rolling under the belly in the most hysterical fashion.
Pre-preg I had a bit of a tum, so I never really bothered with bikini underwear because I assumed higher underwear would keep my belly sucked in. Finally, last week, I bought my first set of lowcut bikini underwear- it’s HEAVEN. At least, until it’s too small a size and the band cuts into the generous amount of skin I call my pubic area. Then heaven becomes a nightmare. Today I thought I was wearing another pair of these. Little did I know I was actually wearing a pair of pre-preg high-cut briefs. Brief was actually the best word for it, as the amount of time they stayed up where I left them was brief.
I am actually home now, weighing the options: nap time or make rice for dinner. Nap it is.
It’s now August. I’m preparing for a wedding I’ve known about since last year, we’re going on Saturday. The funny thing is, when we received the Save the Date back in March, I was newly pregnant and thought, “Wow, I’ll be huge then.”
I also thought it would take ages to get to August 8th, the day of the wedding. Well, it has not taken ages, nor am I huge! Well, not to me, at least. I can still tie my shoes (I think, I haven’t worn shoes with laces in months), still shave my legs (on those rare doctor’s visits), and I don’t need THAT much help getting out of bed or off the couch. Of course, leave it to your friendly random strangers who have the gall to state- not ASK that I must be due “any day now”.
Even the neighborhood Starbucks baristas need to have their say, ranging from “Wow, so you are almost done, huh?” to “Are you sure you don’t want decaf?” when I was picking up a cappuccino for my boss. Now random people stop and ask when I’m due- one woman even guessed the sex of the baby and was so sad when she realized she was wrong!
Now it’s August, then it’ll be September, October, and finally, November. The closer I get the more I worry- Maclaren or Peg Perego? Bay Sky blue or Waterlilly Blue? Changing table or changing pad ON a table? The choices and decisions are limitless. After FINALLY registering this past weekend, I’m a little burned out.
Along with registering, we chose the paint color and finally tackled the baby’s room- cleaning out random things and putting things away. We’re still far from done, though. It’s been so hot lately that I don’t want to do anything, and I feel bad for Paul who is home during the day when it’s at its hottest, since I can’t fault him for doing the same thing- totally preferring to do it later.
I am 24 weeks pregnant. I have sixteen more to go and each day I freak out more. I’m going to be someone’s parent.
