So yesterday I focused on all the not-so-joyful elements of the “miracle of pregnancy” with this blog. And while I meant every single one of them and more that I didn’t even mention, there are some pretty amazing things about being pregnant.
Today I’ll focus on the things I’ve loved about being pregnant and will miss in just a few days.
Let’s start with the magic. It is kind of unbelievable to think about the fact that I am growing a human being right this very second! It’s a concept that is so hard to wrap my mind around. But there is a living, breathing (well kind of) little dude hanging out INSIDE ME. That’s kind of outrageous when you think about it. I think we all kind of just accept that this is who babies come into the world and don’t stop and think about how incredible and complicated of a process those 10 months of gestation really are. And I am lucky enough to get to do it — twice!
Another thing I love is watching and feeling Owen move around in there. And this kiddo does a ton of that. I don’t remember Miles being as active or at least as strong with his movements as Owen has been. Every time we get an ultrasound the tech even comments on how he’s always rolling, flipping or kicking something. I can sit back at my desk, in the car, in bed, really anywhere and if I sit still for more than a few minutes I see a little (and sometimes big) ripple or jump in my stomach or side. That’s pretty awesome (even the times that it is a kick to the bladder or a painful kidney or ribcage I’m pretty impressed with it.)
Ice cream, Jason’s Deli salad bar and other indulgences I may not always allow myself seem a little more acceptable while pregnant. Don’t get me wrong, I have tried to eat a healthy, balanced diet and was very active until about 28 weeks (an hour of Zumba twice a week, a 5K, several mile bike rides, lots of walks on the greenway). But my nightly dose of ice cream and a heaping pile of olives aren’t something I can really pull off when I’m not pregnant. It’s pretty nice to be able to excuse a crazy eating habit with, “Eh, I’m pregnant. What do you expect?”
I haven’t had to move furniture or lift other heavy stuff these last few months. Both times I’ve been pregnant we’ve moved. I’m not sure how I worked this out, but it happened. The first time around I definitely did more heavy lifting than I should have because I’m pretty stubborn and didn’t listen much. This time I did my fair share of packing (AKA most of it) but did very little moving and only kind of directed my hubby and friends who helped with the not-so-fun task. And when I’ve got heavy things in my car I’m able to say (and should say mind you), “Hey, I’m kind of pregnant over here. Do you mind getting that for me?”
And I think the most special part of this whole difficult, messy, stressful and joyful experience of pregnancy is that for these nine or so months Owen is just mine. As soon as he’s an “outside baby” I have to share him with the rest of the world. But right now I have this special, magical connection with him, something no one else will ever get with him. I treasured that so much with Miles and, even with all of the challenges and struggles I’ve had with this pregnancy with Owen I wouldn’t trade it for anything. I’m the luckiest person out there to have been chosen to create and nurture this little guy keeping him safe deep inside me.
So on Monday when the rest of the world gets to meet Owen, and I get to hold him in my arms for the first time I’ll know what that feels like because I’ve been holding him in my heart this whole time. He will no longer be a physical part of me but will continue to have a spot in my heart, right there next to Miles’ spot. And when he gets passed from me to Michael to my mom to my sister … I’ll remember the time when he was just mine and treasure these very special (hot and uncomfortable) moments.
What were you favorite things about being pregnant?
One week. I’ve got one week to go. At the time of this writing, this time next week I should be holding my healthy, baby boy in my arms.
I’ve been down this road before (the pregnancy one) and that old cliché about every pregnancy being different is oh so true, at least for this momma.
And any platitudes about pregnancy being a miracle or beautiful or joyful, pshaw! It’s painful, messy, a little gross and exhausting.
Don’t get me wrong, I am SO grateful that I’m able to become pregnant and sustain a pregnancy when there are so many people (close friends and family even) who haven’t been so lucky. But with all that being said, I can still be grateful and feel blessed but also annoyed and disgusted with it at the same time, right?
My mom, super human in a million ways, talks about how she LOVED being pregnant (even pregnant with twins!) She said she never felt as special as she did when she was pregnant with my sister and me. She was fawned on by strangers and just always felt that “special glow.”
I can easily say neither of those things are true for me. I’m a week from giving birth, and I finally feel (well I have the last two to three weeks) that a stranger could safely assume I’m pregnant, not just overweight. But, shy of a few teachers at my son’s school telling me they didn’t think I should go down the slide at Goebel’s Farm in my “condition,” I’ve not had anyone try to pat my belly or fawn over my glowing state. Maybe I’m not glowing after all.
I certainly don’t feel glowy. I’m certainly “shining” (or sweating profusely, however you want to word it.) Between the “sexy” thigh-high compression hose, my work’s disdain for an adequate cooling system and the furnace that is currently residing deep within my core (aka the baby) I am always hot (and typically sweating.)
So I’m crossing “glowing” off my list of pregnancy benefits.
Glorious hair and nails, this has got to be a myth. I remember being told that the prenatal vitamins would give you amazing nails and hair. Nope. Cross that one off!
Gorgeous baby bump — eh, not so much. I would classify what I’m rocking to be more of a baby lump. Seriously, I just look extra lumpy. I was wearing my regular, pre-pregnancy jeans until three weeks ago. There’s been no weekly belly pics; I won’t be posting any cool belly progression videos.
And I just haven’t felt good. When I was pregnant with Miles I was moderately uncomfortable, you know the way that anyone would feel when they are growing another human inside them. This time though by around three months pregnant my sciatica was so annoyed with this baby that it felt like someone was continually jabbing me with a knife in my lower back. So I started receiving chiropractic care (amazing results, by the way) that only added to the list of doctor’s appointments a 33-year-old pregnant woman with a pacemaker has to go to.
There was also the heartburn, OH THE HEARTBURN! Today for lunch I had a salad and plain boneless, skinless chicken breast. SALAD and CHICKEN people, who does that cause a fire of a thousand horses (or whatever that phrase is) to come trampling up my esophagus and into my throat?
I’ve worn a path between my desk and the bathroom for the frequent potty breaks that pregnancy demands. Between the gallons of water they recommend you drink to stay healthy and the tiny human dancing or doing a handstand on your bladder it almost feels as if moving into the bathroom would be the saner idea. Because this nice little waddle that my split pelvis (at least that’s what it feels like some days) makes between here and there is not all that attractive or efficient.
And then on a more serious note this pregnancy has been complete with its fair share of “scares.” I had what doctors called a subchorionic hemorrhage early on (I referred to it as that petrifying bleeding that had me convinced that something was terribly wrong). And then when I was about 7 months pregnant my body was possessed by poison ivy and ended up in the hospital for three days after passing out cold in the middle of a parking lot from a terrible reaction from the immune response to the poison ivy and the medication they gave me to treat it. And just about a month ago I had another health scare that sent me back to the hospital.
Needless to say, I haven’t felt all warm and snugly with this whole pregnancy thing. I’ve been anxious, uncomfortable, exhausted and downright annoyed at times. And I’m not even going to get into all the icky stuff that pregnancy brings. You have either been there and are shaking your head like, “she’s right,” or you can go ask your own mother, the mother of your children or another friend who has gone through this “miracle” of pregnancy.
When people talk about the joys of pregnancy they don’t talk about that stuff. They don’t mention days like my Sunday. I had been up until 1:30 a.m. “nesting” and my kiddo woke up at 4:45 a.m. with the lightning and thunderstorm and had and refused to go back to bed meaning his momma was wide-awake too. I was unbelievably tired, sore and downright unpleasant. And by around 8 a.m. Miles was also pretty darn cranky as he too was exhausted but wouldn’t slow down. I had tears of joy when my sister said she was going to drop by for a bit. I think she intended to be there for 15 or so minutes but ended up staying closer to four hours sensing my “on the edge” feeling.
That picture, the pregnant mom on the verge (or in the throes) of tears isn’t what people see when they think about pregnancy.
What do you see? How was pregnancy for you?
I constantly feel the pull of work vs. life. It’s a strong one, but luckily work allows life to win as often as it can.
One such example was Friday, when I was able to take the morning off to be a chaperone for my son’s first field trip. I had about two weeks left of work before maternity leave and at least a month’s worth of work, the only other reporter in my department was on vacation and my editor was doing her best to prepare to be gone for a week of vacation herself. But without hesitation she said, “Go, take the time off. Have a great time and be careful!”
Not only are my co-workers pretty accommodating, they all are a bunch of mother hens to this pregnant chick.
I’m not sure if Miles will remember moments like this in 10, 20 or 30 years, but I know I certainly will.
When I heard that St. Theresa’s preschool through second grade would be taking a field trip (Miles’ first-ever) I quickly asked his teacher if they needed any chaperones. I’m not sure if they really did, but thankfully the kind Mrs. Bartley graciously said, “Of course,” giving me permission to tag along.
The students all piled onto a big yellow school bus, another first for Miles. We talked about that part of the field trip the night before because I wanted him to be prepared. I was trying to squash any potential fears of doing something different. But there was nothing even remotely scary about the school bus, well unless you count the frighteningly ridiculous number of times he asked about when he got to ride it between bedtime Thursday and school drop off Friday morning.
All the parents were to meet the kids and the bus at the destination — Goebel’s Farm in rural Vanderburgh County. I was anxiously waiting outside of my car, camera in hand, to catch the bus pulling in and Miles descending the steps. Of course life happens and the bus was about an hour late. I made the best of it and pulled out my laptop and whipped out a story while I was waiting. (See, work won there!)
When he hopped down the steps with his teacher’s help the smile on my guy’s face was visible from across the parking lot. He spotted me and started to run toward me.
Gah! That sound of pure joy and glee at seeing me. That has got to be one of the best sounds and feelings in the world. We all filed inside and learned about how pumpkins were grown, the difference between the different kinds and even met a chicken. It was fun to see Miles interact with the other students and for the other teachers to tell me how sweet and cute our little dude is, reassuring to hear because you always wonder how well behaved they are when you aren’t around.
The whole group piled onto a straw ride (it wasn’t hay, we learned) out to the pumpkin patch where we got to traipse around all the growing pumpkins. It was magical watching Miles discover things he found, hearing him excitedly proclaim his discoveries of “punkins.” The group headed back to the main farm, home to the amazing barn slide. We’d gone to Goebel’s a few times last year and spent quite a bit of time playing on the barn slide.
This thing is no joke. It’s pretty high up and has some challenging steps to tackle. Last year, when Miles was still just 2, he definitely couldn’t navigate his way around up there alone and Michael and I took turns going up and down with him. But with the whole class lining up to go up the slide I thought Miles would be OK. So my nearly 37-week pregnant self decided to watch from the ground with some of the other teachers and parents who skipped the slide.
But after Miles made it all the way to the top, I saw him coming back down with one of the teachers. He was too scared to do it by himself and wanted his momma. Heart melts, of course, and I quickly start to climb the stairs with him. When I get to the top a parent and teacher exchange glances with each other and then eye my now pretty obvious baby belly.
“Are you sure you should be doing this?” one of them asks.
I laugh, “What, go down a slide pregnant with my son? Of course I should do it!”
So Miles and I zoomed down the slide.
What a fun morning. It was just a few hours but it was full of memories and moments I’ll treasure. I’m not sure how many field trips I’ll make, but I’m hopeful I can do at least one a year. I’m grateful to have a kiddo that is happy and proud to have me tag along and an employer who values the importance of family time.
I’ve talked about Project Reveal here a time or two. My recent absence from regular blogging can be attributed directly to this amazing nonprofit organization and my role in planning its first-ever event.
The organization’s creator, Stacey Godbold, and myself have been working on birthing the baby that was named Embrace Your Body. This baby was a fundraising event Friday night and an outreach event on Saturday. We certainly are not the only two involved; lots of other people played big and small roles in bringing this baby into the world. But I’m not sure if anyone else went through the “labor” that Stacey and I experienced with this amazing event.
I’m not going to lie though, it was pretty painful. Remember, I’m just three weeks shy of birthing another baby (this one actually is a human!) I was so tired and sore when I dragged myself home after 11 p.m. Friday night that I couldn’t even walk upstairs to bed; I slept on the couch.
Let me first say, baby Embrace Your Body came into this world at 7 p.m. on Sept. 5 at 56/58 Adams Avenue and was a healthy, happy and super inspiring gal. OK, enough with the metaphor … The event was fabulous. There were more than 200 people that came through the door; we raised a lot of money; we had a great time; and, most importantly, we touched and inspired a lot of people! That was the most important part of what we did.
The super-talented photographer Erin McCracken took hundreds of photos of women from the Evansville area of all ages, shapes, backgrounds and ethnicities back in June. And let me point out that these women were in their underwear! They were truly embracing their bodies and entrusting us. We narrowed the photos down to 24 and made huge prints (seriously huge — two feet by three feet.) Those photos were then displayed in a swanky feeling gallery space in Evansville’s Haynie’s Corner Art District. Add to that live music, a fun photo booth, delicious food, a bar, an amazing green lemonade and the inspirational words of Stacey and Erin and you have a perfect night.
We also made sure those that attended the event (and also supported us with their positive words, encouragement and donations) felt like they could be a part of Project Reveal. They participated in our interactive art piece that will forever be a part of Project Reveal and then also had the opportunity to either “embrace their body” or “reveal” something about themselves on luminary bags that meandered and glowed around the Haynie’s Corner fountain.
I’m not going to lie, when I walked outside and saw that at the end of the night my eyes got a little wet. It was beautiful. Not only was it just an impressive site seeing all the luminary bags glowing and the words written on them but it was validation for what we’d worked so hard to do.
Each of those bags represented someone that believed in something that I’d invested so much of myself into recently, something I’d made so many sacrifices for in recent months and something that I too really believed in.
It meant a lot that my mom, twin sis, family friend and boss all took their time (and money, this event wasn’t free folks, it was a fundraiser after all) to support me by showing up. There were other co-workers there supporting the organization as well. It really meant a lot.
I know my husband is so very, very tired of hearing me say, “I’ve got to work late tonight on Project Reveal,” “I won’t be home until 10 or 11 because of set up for the event,” “I’ve got to leave to do a radio spot for Project Reveal,” “We’ve got a Project Reveal event all afternoon, sorry I won’t be home.” But every time he said, “Go, have fun. It’s fine.”
Without him completely taking over all of the house maintaining and child care duties the last couple weeks I’m not sure what would have happened. I certainly couldn’t have done what I was able to do with and for the event.
I know I wasn’t the only one making these sacrifices. Stacey, mom of triplets who just turned 1 and a 4 year old, made even more sacrifices and put even more blood, sweat and tears into the planning. And Erin, who got married in the midst of all this event planning craziness, also was super dedicated and involved.
And the most important thing to stress here is that I WANTED to do it all. I’m the kind of person that likes to be involved in something. I want to channel my passion and energy into something I believe in. I hadn’t really had that in the last few years, especially since I’d had Miles. I’d get involved with specific events (I was on the planning committee for Relay for Life in Madison County, was on the Heart Walk team here, etc.) but had not really found a place where I really felt I belonged and could have an impact.
But I think Project Reveal is it. The mission of the organization is to create a forum where “women can help other women by sharing their stories, strength and hope about a defining time in their lives.”
So until I hear otherwise from Stacey, she and Project Reveal are stuck with me.
But I have to say, now that baby Embrace Your Body has made it’s debut it is time for me to focus on the other baby I’ve been working on for the last eight-plus months — baby Owen. His debut (if all goes as planned) is in 21 days. It’s been hard to focus on preparing for his arrival with all the event details and deadlines. So now my focus is on this baby and back on my amazing and supportive husband and kiddo Miles.
If you want to learn more about Project Reveal visit projectreveal.org.
My first pie ever!
There are days that I struggle to find a blog topic. Today I have about four swimming around in my head. But this one, the one where I ponder the letter I just received suggesting I quit my job and pull my son out of preschool, well it made its way to the top.
I want to stress that I really do appreciate this reader’s feedback for a number of reasons — it tells me people are actually reading (yippee), it gave me a chance to once again examine why we’ve made the schooling decisions we have, it’s renewed my confidence in those decisions and it gave me something to blog about.
Every couple weeks my editor will choose one of these blogs to run in the newspaper as a column. She chose to run the blog I wrote about being anxious about Miles’ first day of school on our education page just before school started for the two large public school systems. In the column I talked about my free-spirited little guy who loves to play with trains on the floor with no pants on, and who’s favorite activity is to run around screaming random nonsense.
The letter-writer was well spoken and even signed her name. And she was far from mean or ugly (which sometimes people can be.) And I get when you write about this kind of stuff for a public audience you are totally putting your decisions, emotions, family and all that stuff out there for the public eye and scrutiny. And it isn’t a one-way street. I don’t just shout it all out into an empty void (at least I hope I don’t!)
I appreciate hearing feedback, even when it isn’t just a good ol’ pat on the back or, “I totally have been there.” So I welcome this feedback; it’s just kind of jarring. And I’m still processing it all.
The writer pleads for my husband and me to “reconsider” our decision to send Miles to preschool. Instead of doing that, I should quit my job to be at home with him.
“If you feel that Miles needs to start learning — he will do it the best sitting next to his mother — snuggled up reading a book, and then when he has sit (sic) as long as he can — he can get back to playing with his trains, running and screaming not expected to sit quietly a few hours a week, four days a week.”
We spend LOTS of time snuggled up reading books. We do this at least every night at bedtime, and he sits snuggled up to his FATHER reading books throughout the day as well. And he isn’t expected to sit quietly for those three hours a day, four days a week he is at school. They have recess, they have center play, they go on “color scavenger hunts,” they have a castle complete with dress up clothes for pretend play and there is even a train set there! But in the midst of that play he is getting exposed to other children, a lot of dialogue, the concept of listening to someone other than mom and dad and exposure to some organized learning and structure.
The letter-writer goes one:
“Boys are barely able to do that (referring to sitting quietly) when they are 5 and in kindergarten — there is plenty of time for him to learn — there is no scientific proof that pre-school is advantageous — much more important for him to be at home learning with his mother.”
I think it is important for my child (the only child I’m making educational decisions for right now) to be exposed to some structure and order before “real school” starts. Ideas like lining up, sitting in a circle, being responsible for his backpack and other simple lessons could be taught at home before a child enters kindergarten I’m sure. But the idea of doing those in a setting outside of the home, for someone else and with a classroom of peers is hard to replicate inside one’s home.
And the concept of home schooling is one that I think is great. And I’m sure it works really well and is amazing for a lot of families. But for us, it just isn’t the best option or fit. I work outside of the home, a necessity for our family. We are lucky that my husband is able to stay home with Miles and soon our second son but he does a lot of work from home. That schedule just doesn’t work for home school. Plus, I just don’t think it is something that would be a good fit for my husband (or me, if I was able to quit my job.)
The letter-writer says, “Miles will be expected to act in ways that are beyond his capabilities.”
That just isn’t true. He’s been in school for four weeks now and with the exception of one, “Miles had a difficult time listening” note his teacher has had nothing but great things to say. Her words are the exact opposite of this prediction actually where the teacher has said he has exceeded expectations and is doing wonderfully.
Keep reading (and responding!)
This week Miles protested going to school every single day. He screamed, he cried, he even ran from Michael throwing himself into the grass declaring, “I don’t like school!”
Today, his day off from school, he wakes up excitedly at 6:15 a.m. (30 minutes earlier than I had to drag him out of bed every other day this week) saying, “I can’t wait to go to school!”
When I informed him that today was NOT a school day, that’s when the tears started falling.
Hey, at least he’s mixing it up!
I am far from wishing away time and moments with my little guy who I love SO very, very much. But I’m going to put it right out there — I’m wishing away the tantrums! They can go the way of the doo-doo (is that the old cliché), and I won’t protest a bit.
Here’s to the weekend full of promise and fun times. Hopefully he’ll wake up all smiles tomorrow and declare, “I get to spend ALL DAY with Mommy!”
Have a great weekend.