5 Things You Should Never Say to a Pregnant Woman

During the first 20 first half of my pregnancy, here are the five things I wish I hadn't heard.

5. Oh, You wanted that??
This was from TH, in reference to an iced lemon bundt cake I had brought home from a get-together with friends. I was still in the first trimester, still at that point where not a whole lot ever sounded good to me, and when I did find the ONE thing that sounded good to eat, it was the most delicious thing in the world. That day, it was iced lemon bundt cake. I brought home the leftovers (seriously, like half the freaking cake) from the party and put them in the fridge, too tired to partake in them that night but excited to have the lemony sweetness to look forward to the next day. TH has a distinctive nighttime sweet tooth, but it is typically focused on chocolate. The poor bundt cake...and I...never saw it coming. The next day there was nary a crumb to be found, and when I asked TH about it, that's when I got the dreaded, "Oh, you wanted that??" I kid you not, I actually teared up a bit. He has learned to ask what food I have my eye on now or, if in doubt, to leave some.

4. I forgot my wallet.
Another first trimester TH gem. I was starving, STARVING, and the one thing that I had finally figured out that sounded good was potato soup from Jason's Deli. I rode the entire 15-minute drive in silence, concentrating on not letting my hunger pains turn into nausea. We pulled into the parking lot, and I vaulted out of the car...only to hear this haunting phrase behind me. In my single-minded focus on getting food, I of course hadn't brought my purse along. TH looked absolutely crestfallen, but it was nothing compared to my realization that not only was I not going to get my soup right then, but there was no way in hell I would make it another 30 minutes for the wallet-retrieving round trip. We went home. I think I had some grits. I don't remember. All I remember is that dream-crushing sentence.

3. Pretty much everything she said.
No need to reopen that can of worms.

2. What's with the attitude?
Early, early in the first tri, when both TH and I were still adjusting to all the new, wonderful hormonal changes that come with pregnancy, he uttered this little gem to me on the phone. Suffice it to say that conversation did not go well after that, and he learned to never ask a pregnant woman, "What's with the attitude?"

And the #1 thing you should never say to a pregnant woman...

1. Hey there, fatty!
This one came from my grandmother! We were visiting her in the hospital. I walked in and said, "Hey there, gorgeous!" and she responded with this delightful quip. At this point I was just starting to really show, around 17 weeks. Luckily TH has been telling me all day every day how great I look, and his enthusiasm and glee has only increased with my expanding belly, so my self-esteem and confidence in looking pregnant was just fine. But still. Really? This is the same grandmother who made oinking noises and pushed her nose up every time my then-32-week pregnant cousin ate anything at her baby shower. Yeah. You can't make this stuff up.

So there you have it! If those are the five worst things I've heard, I've had pretty smooth sailing. I am looking forward to the wonderful things I'll hear in the next 20 weeks!

20 weeks!

We hit the half-way mark, baby girl!! Congrats!

We had our 20-week appointment yesterday and got to see Ali again. She is growing like a weed! The doctor said she is in the 91 percentile, meaning she is bigger than 91% of all the other babies her age. And her head is measuring more than a week ahead. eek! I welcome all your little overachieving traits, sweet baby, especially since that means you are taking after your momma, but please have mercy on me with your size--if I can avoid having to birth a huge baby, I would really like it!

I was especially glad to hear that she's growing so healthily as I have still only gained 1 pound! I've been fighting a cold for a few weeks, so I'm going to attribute some of my lack of weight gain to that. That and the fact that I was a good 20 pounds over my ideal weight when we got pregnant (dumb post-race burnout!), so I had some squish to grow into. The doctor said really the only thing you have to worry about weight with pregnancy is if you gain too much, so I'm going to take him at his word and relax about the whole weight thing.

The ultrasound was, as usual, amazing. Ali waved to the camera, showing us how she can open and close her cute little hand. We got to see her arms and legs--when the doctor showed us her thighs, he said, "She's certainly chunked up some since last time!" Uh....thanks, doc?? I guess that means she's going to have her mother's build. :-) He also showed us where her butt and feet are, and they are so much higher than I thought they would be! Well above my belly button, which is the marker most of my progression calendars have been telling me is appropriate for this week. I guess that kind of falls in line with the whole 91% thing. It was fun to push on the spot and feel something hard, and know that I'm touching her. Here is the beautiful profile shot we missed last time...looks like she likes sleeping on her back, just like me (oh, how I miss sleeping on my back!!).

When we left, it seemed to really "hit" TH that we are half-way there! He got a very serious look on his face and told me that, aside from our babymoon trip to Hawaii and his birthday trip to Dallas in July, we should not schedule any more travel and should not have anyone come visit. "We have got a lot of preparing to do!" he declared. I love how serious he is taking all this! We got a handful of flyers for classes we can take through the hospital, some of which I don't really think will be necessary, and he was gung-ho for every single one! That is on top of the Bradley childbirth class we are going to sign up for that will be one night a week for eight weeks. I'm so glad that I'm not going to have to poke and prod him for progress and preparation for the next 20 weeks.

In other news, we finally have movement!! Ali must love her momma extra special, because I was feeling pretty low last week about not having felt her very much yet when it seems like everyone else has been feeling their babies for a long time. That very day I felt a little squirming in my tummy and have felt her every day since! One evening she was moving pretty consistently, so I took TH's hand and put it on my belly. I told him that he probably wouldn't feel anything but to just be patient and wait. Sure enough, she must love her daddy's heat just like her mom loves it, because she started bopping away right where his hand was. After two or three bumps I asked him if he had felt anything. He said he wasn't sure, and I said it would have been very small, like a little twitch or something. His eyes got kind of big and he said that he *thinks* he felt that. Yay! He has tried again every day since, even when I tell him that she's not moving at the time. He keeps his hand there regardless, telling me, "She likes my heat. She'll move." She doesn't though, but I think we're finally, finally getting close to when he'll be able to feel her, with certainty, all the time.

He loves the fact that she can hear him and feel him. He sings her sweet little songs in Russian, one in particular that he used to sing just for me. Now he substitutes in her name, and adds in my name later. He tells me that he's singing to both his girls. I hope when she's born, hearing that song will soothe her and make her feel safe and loved, the way it does me.

I am pregnant! I love saying it, love realizing it a million times a day, love looking in the mirror and looking pregnant...really, truly, strangers-can-tell pregnant. TH loves my new curves--he giggles every time he looks at my belly and then comes over and rubs on it (or kisses it...or talks to it...or sings to it...). I can't wait to go home next weekend for Mother's Day--we haven't seen our parents since early March, and there's been a lot of growth since then! Here's a shot of me at 20 weeks, the official half-way point:



So, that's our update! Half-way there, thrilled to know that we have a big, healthy girl on our hands, loving where we are, and excited to get ready for her arrival.

A Story About Your Dad

Alin-itchka,

(This is what your dad calls you. It's adorable. You will come to find that the Russians have all KINDS of different cute little nicknames for you.)

I don't know how much children ever really learn about their parents. For the most part, they start out as just "mom" and "dad," your providers, your protectors. Then, for a while, they're the people you love in private but are embarrassed of in public. (I'm apologizing for your dad in advance. Way in advance.) It's not until you're grown that you start to think of your parents as people, people who grew up the way you did, people who have their own stories. And I don't know how many of those stories you'll eventually hear. But you should know that your dad has some great stories. Maybe one day you'll know them as well as I do.

(I'm sharing this with you now because he's been traveling on business, and I miss him, and reading and telling stories about him is like pulling a blanket of him around me, comforting me in his absence. It makes me feel close to him again.)

Here's one I wrote about him for work...it was published in a book I was working on. No one who reads it will ever know if it's real, or who it's about. But you'll know. You'll know it's real. You'll know the man it's about.

--------------

We arrived at our apartment in South Dallas, in our new state, in our new home, without speaking a word of English. There were bullet holes in our front door. We never thought to consider whether they were just strays from shots fired elsewhere or if they had been directed at the previous residents of the apartment. We just went inside and shut the door on the strange new world. It felt like wrapping a blanket around us. It felt secure. Never mind the bullet holes in the door or the dark, smoky interior. It was a place of our own. It was more than we’d had on the road, when we were borrowing rooms from kind strangers or sleeping in train stations. It was more than we’d had in Russia, where we’d shared an apartment with my grandparents. It was a place that was just ours, a place from which we could start to build our new American lives.

The first month in America my brother and I didn’t leave the safety of our apartment. We watched reruns of I Love Lucy for hours while our parents worked long shifts for half of the minimum wage. When you have nothing, you can’t complain. Lucy, Ricky, Ethel, and Fred taught us English. Even now, though my Russian accent is still noticeable when I speak in English, I can say, “Lucy! You got some ‘splaining to do!” with a perfect Cuban flair.

Under Communist leadership in Russia, my family had been culturally Jewish, ethnically Jewish, but never religiously Jewish. We hadn’t been allowed to explore any religious aspect of Judaism. The organization that paid for our flights from Italy was a conservative Jewish group. They wanted some reassurance that we would grow in the faith after having paid so much to bring us here, so I was offered up as the sacrificial lamb. I had a bris, a ritual circumcision, at the age of 12. There was no anesthesia, but despite the pain, I felt fiercely proud. My sacrifice, my suffering, meant something. It was a payment of sorts for my family’s new opportunity.

In acknowledgement of the momentous event, I got a watch. Looking back, I’m sure it was a cheap knock-off, but to my eyes, the eyes of a 12-year-old who had helped guide his family through Europe as refugees, who had purchased with his own blood and skin their passage to America, the land of hope and opportunity, it seemed to me to be the most valuable thing I had ever possessed. More than just a watch, it stood for our sacrifices and our triumph. Its solid weight seemed to tell me that with hard work and determination, goals can be achieved and riches can be gained. Wearing that watch, I felt like a man for whom anything was possible.

Eventually my brother and I ventured out of our apartment. We played tentatively in our parking lot, finding it difficult to make friends with the wary and often unfriendly kids in the neighborhood. We were all immigrants, but they had bonded over a common language, a common background. We were outsiders in a neighborhood of outsiders. One day, as my brother and I were playing soccer, a group of older boys approached us. I stood in front of my bother and told him to go inside. I didn’t understand all of what the boys were saying, but anger and aggression are universal emotions. They beat me up. Then they took my watch.

After they ran off and I stumbled back up to our apartment, our safe haven, the bruises and cuts didn’t hurt nearly so much as the empty place on my wrist. I had paid dearly for our journey to this country, and the reward, along with my bright vision of America, had been ripped violently from me. Suddenly this country didn’t feel so hopeful. Suddenly I noticed the bullet holes in our door.

I am a grown man now and have made the most of my life in America. But even with all the things I’ve gained since moving here, I’ve never worn another watch.

Big Weekend, Baby Girl!

Last Thursday was your daddy's and my 4-year wedding anniversary! I can't believe we've already been married four years...much less that we've been together almost 13 years! Time flies when you get to spend every day with your best friend. Here's some motherly advice for you, sweet girl: when the time comes to choose a man to marry, choose your best friend. One day, or many days, you will hear all about how your dad and I met the first day of 11th grade, about how I thought he was someone else, about our immediate friendship, about how different we both were from anything the other had ever known. You'll hear about your dad fighting to win me over from another man (scandalous!), about our late night trips to downtown Dallas, about the stories he used to tell me, weaving a history that captivated me. You'll hear about how romantic he's always been, about how we fought for our relationship through college, through the years when we were both searching for and learning so much about ourselves. But, through every step, along every turn, in every moment, good and bad, he was always my best friend. And that's what saved us time and again. That's what's given us strength.

Our anniversary was wonderful. We watched our wedding video, like we do every year, and it was so fun to relive that day, that perfect day. Your dad said that he can't wait to show you that video next year! I got a little teary watching my dances with my two dads, thinking about how, at a time that seems so far off but that will be here before I know it, you will be dancing with your dad at your wedding. He also took me out for breakfast, lunch, and dinner, and then we went and played glow-in-the-dark miniature golf. I don't know what your dad and I are going to be like as parents, don't know what your impression of us will be, but you should know that we have always loved doing fun, silly, goofy things together, things that make us laugh. I hope we never lose that. The best part of the day was the beautiful gift he gave me--a diamond and sapphire ring. Sapphire will be your birthstone, sweet girl! I call it my "mom ring," and I haven't gone a day without it on since getting it. I think of you every time I look at it.

The next day your dad got on a plane for Europe. He takes two big European trips a year--one around our anniversary, and one around Thanksgiving. I am not happy about this travel schedule, especially since he will miss Thanksgiving this year, our first one with you! But I am happy for his job, and I guess you have to take the good with the bad. To help keep me company while he is gone, my mom (your grandma) came into town. We had a wonderful girls' weekend, getting our nails done, watching chick-flicks, getting massages, and spending a couple of days in Fredricksburg. We had a great time walking up and down Main St., looking in all the shops and buying cute little things for you. You are so much fun to shop for!! (I have been a little worried since settling on your name that you would never get any personalized gifts, as neither "Alina" nor "Ali" are very common. But amazingly we did find some cute little "Ali" stickers and of course had to get them. Your first personalized gift!) Your grandma is so excited about you--she looked at every adorable outfit, every fun toy, and talked about how excited she is. I just know you and her are going to be fast friends...I hope one day you know how lucky you are to have her. One the way back home, we stopped off in Luckenbach. I was so excited to take you there--it's very famous, and one day we'll go back again and spend the evening dancing under the stars.

So, you and I both had a big weekend! I had my anniversary and a wonderful weekend with my mom, and you had your first massage and your first trip to Luckenbach. How luxurious!

In pregnancy news, I've been fighting a nasty cold for the last week or two. I had been so determined not to take any medicine while pregnant, but eventually the doctors convinced me that taking medicine was safer than getting a nasty infection. Health is so important, sweet Alina...it's one of those things most people take for granted until it's gone. I hope you can always remember to stop and be thankful for your health, for your strength, for your vitality.

I am 19 weeks pregnant--almost half-way there!! I love the way you make me look, love my beautiful belly. I know the way you've set up house in there means that I won't likely feel you moving around much for another 3 weeks or so, but I am so ready to feel you! Anytime you feel like dancing around a little and saying hi will be ok with me. I am ready and waiting.

Your dad says he misses you and can't wait to come home. I'm glad that you are always right here with me.

With love,
Momma

Settling In

So, I think I've finally reached the point when time speeds up, when every minute of every day is not spent worrying about how she is doing in there, when the wait between appointments doesn't seem like the longest, most dreadful wait of my life! We've had nothing but wonderful doctors appointments and test results, so it's time to relax!

I love, love, love being able to refer to the baby as "her" now instead of "it." We talk about her room, putting her in daycare, what things will be like when she gets here. Already she is such a wonderful, big part of our life.

The most exciting part of last week is that I popped! Up until then, my belly, though big, still fluctuated, depending on time of day, how much I'd eaten and drank, etc. Then, week 16 hit and that belly is all there, all the time! Even when I wear loose-fitting clothes, which before had just made me look fat, I now look pregnant. And I love it! I love this belly. Crazy, huh? TH loves the belly, too. He breaks into a huge smile every afternoon when he picks me up from work. It's like he forgets in the 8 (or 4, if we've had lunch together) hours since he saw me last that I not only am pregnant, but I look pregnant now, too! He randomly reaches over and rubs my tummy all the time, smiling to himself. He went to visit a friend of his last weekend in California, and he made sure to tell us both goodbye; when he came back, we both got a kiss hello. He is already so taken with her.

He was also delighted to learn that Ali can hear him now. One of his favorite things to do now is to lean over and talk to her. Sometimes he puts his lips directly on my skin, below my belly button, and whispers to her as if she were sleeping. Sometimes he deepens his voice, thinking the lower tone will help the sound waves break through to her more quickly. And sometimes he talks directly into my belly button like a megaphone. Silly man.

He has slowly, in his own way, gotten more and more excited about the ooshy-gushy baby stuff, as opposed to the analytical, financial, cut-and-dry details. He has signed up for BabyCenter emails, and was telling me at lunch today about the 7 Most Common Fears of Dads, and 10 Tips for Labor Buddies. When I asked him the other day what he was excited about doing with Ali, he said having little tea parties with her. I just about melted.

In the "cut-and-dry details" news, her crib is in! Now we just have to assemble it. But before we do that we really do need to get the chair rails installed. And to do that we need a miter saw. And someone who knows what they're doing. It's a good thing we still have a lot of time. :-)

I saw the following on another blog and liked the idea for keeping weekly (maybe monthly?) updates...a neat way to see progress in another form.

How far along?: 17 weeks, 2 days
Total weight gain: Nothing yet. Can you believe it?? At my last appointment I actually had lost the one pound I had gained. The doctor doesn't seem worried, and I think I've figured out that I'm probably just losing all my triathlon muscles. Boo. I'll just have to work hard to get them back.
How much does baby weigh?: About 6 oz.
Maternity clothes?: Still in that transitional phase--I'm still wearing the occasional old pants or shirt, especially to work, but am having to wear maternity more and more.
Stretch marks?: Nope--my mom said she never really got any, so my fingers are crossed!
Sleep?: Not bad! I typically only get up once to pee, and since getting my snoogle body pillow, have been much more comfortable and restful through the night. I love that thing.
Best moment this week?: I think I felt her! I ate a big sugar cookie yesterday after lunch, and I really haven't been eating many (if any) sweets at all. I'm pretty sure she got a total sugar rush, because it felt like there was a total party going on in my uterus. I felt a little bad for hitting her with all that sugar, especially since she isn't used to it, but it was still cool to feel her in there.
Movement?: See above.
Food cravings?: Not really. I eat more fruit than I used to, but other than that, my eating has pretty much returned to normal.
Labor signs?: Ha! No, thank goodness.
Belly button in or out?: In, but it is weird to be able to see the back of it getting shallower and shallower!
What I miss: Ice cold sweet tea
What I'm looking forward to: Feeling her move on a regular basis.
Milestone: I'm less than three weeks away from the half-way point! Yay!!

Beauty Queen, Bits, and Belly

To make up for the woeful lack of pictures lately . . . enjoy!

Here is a shot of our little Beauty Queen. TH doesn't like when I call her Skeletor, so I've switched to this less literal, more flattering moniker. Perhaps you can see why I was calling her Skeletor at first...and why "Beauty Queen" is, at least for the moment, a bit tongue-in-cheek.

Here's a shot of our beauty queen with her mouth open (note for those not pros at deciphering ultrasound pictures: her head is tilted down and to the right, and her mouth is opening toward the left edge of the picture). The tech said, "Aw, she's yawning!" I said, "EEK! Er . . . I mean . . . uh . . . yeah . . . cute!" You can also see the rest of her measurements at the bottom of the picture. As you can see, her legs and head are measuring several days ahead of her body. Looks like we have a long-legged, big-headed beauty queen on our hands!

And here's the money shot! Everyone talks about the three lines that indicate girl . . . I'm not sure what it means if there are FOUR lines. I guess that's why our doc gave us a "200% chance" of her being a "her!" The thoughtful doctor also drew in a cute little baby butt for us, just to give some context.

And finally, here's our most recent belly shot. It's not our standard Sunday-night picture (I try to wear the same clothes for that one so that comparisons are easier), but TH called me a MILF for the first time, so I thought it appropriate to document the outfit that he found so appealing. :-)