I've been meaning to go back and reconstruct this for ages. It's intimidating. So I'm breaking it down into little pieces. You know, instead of doing the dishes and getting to bed.
Though can I just say? I LOVE having the energy to come home and COOK DINNER FOR MYSELF (pasta, fresh turkey meatballs, thawed homemade (by me!) tomato sauce, frozen brocoli). And do stuff afterwards (admitting my my weekly guilty pleasure here: Private Practice (SUCH a terrible show!) and Grey's Anatomy) on Hulu. And then still have the inclination to blog afterwards? Wow.
Screw the dishes.
I decided in July 2009 that I wanted to be a Single Mom. (I decided to capitalize it because, you know, dammit, I think we are all fine, brave women. And "single mom" deserves to worn like a title, with pride. So Single Mom it is!)
I had just broken up with Tom. To be more precise, he had broken up with me. I'm glad he did. We liked each other quite a bit. We laughed a lot. And I would have never broken up with him because it felt good enough. He was intimidated by the fact that I was better educated, better employed, and just plain smarter than him.
It sounds snobby to say this, but sometimes, it's good to just say it.
I didn't care about those things. But the truth is, while I really didn't care about the employment and education part, and goodness knows he was working on those things (started grad school to finish his bachelor's degree and then complete a master's degree, to become a special ed teacher)... the smart thing probably would've been an issue over the long haul. He wasn't dumb, by a long shot. But we really couldn't participate in intellectual discussions together. And as much as I hate to admit it, that might've been hard, at least. We were just brought up in such different worlds. I don't think his family wrangled over the dinner table. I can't say we did it better (lord knows there were a lot of terrible things about my childhood), but I guess that's the way I'm used to, now.
Anyway, Tom and I broke up. Wow, I can distract myself, can't I???
The very first Saturday after we broke up, I woke up and thought, that's it. I'm done putting my life on hold. For anyone. Or for a lack of anyone.
At first, I thought this meant that I was going to buy an apartment. But about three weeks later, I realized, nope, I'm going to have a family. On my own.
Completely untrue to character (my own), I planned to wait seven months before taking any concrete steps towards getting pregnant. I had read Jane's seminal book, Single Mother By Choice, when I was just twenty-five, and I suppose the idea had never been far from my mind since then. It was drift towards the back when I was in a relationship, then spring forward immediately every time I was single again.
Monday, February 28, 2011
Still Pregnant
Not that I was doubting it. But you know, a girl worries. Even when her belly seems to swell by the day. Especially when she still hasn't felt any movement. (Yes, I know it's still early, especially for a first time mama... but it's not that early when you consider how I eager I am to feel it.)
So anyway, I went to the midwife today. She lifted up my shirt to do the doppler, and said, "Why hello there!" in a delighted way to my stomach. And affirmed, that yes, I've "popped." But in a lovely, celebratory way that made me feel great.
I also found out that I only gained two pounds since four weeks ago. Which makes absolutely no sense. I'm ever so much bigger. But whatever.
But this probably made me feel happier about her greeting my stomach as a separate entity from the rest of me?
I don't know exactly what my pre-pregnancy weight was, because the last time I got weighed was right after I came home from camp. Camp, where I didn't like the food and thus mainly subsisted on raw, organic, grass fed whole milk and fresh fruit. Mmm. I felt like I was glowing with good health... but it probably wasn't sustainable. And it wasn't really a diet to begin with.
Anyway, I got weighed at the RE's office right after I got home, and then.... oops!... the nurses forgot to weigh me more than a month later, when I started IVF. I'm nine pounds heavier now than I was immediately post-camp. I've gained four pounds since I first saw the midwife at nine weeks pregnant... so I'd guess I've gained... six pounds while pregnant?
Weight gain and IVF ended up being kind of an issue for me, what with getting Ovarian Hyperstimulation Syndrome (OHSS) and all, and ending up in the hospital. Now that was, for lack of a better word, a completely trippy experience. I should write about that. I still mull it over from time to time.
But anway, the point of this point, nearly lost and obscured now, was that the midwife heard the heartbeat!
So yay!!!! I'm still pregnant. Hallelujah.
I wonder when I will stop being surprised by this and settle into this pregnancy thing?
I'm still scared to believe it's all working. I've resisted talking to the Lentil, or even, calling it the baby. Not there yet. Maybe once I get to 19 weeks, and find out the sex (hopefully)? Once I get to 20 weeks, past where P lost her baby, and to where my dear friend Emily finally "forced" herself to bond with her pregnancy (after miscarriages at 12 and 17 weeks)?
PS Babyticker now says 159 days!!! I've entered a new... decade?
So anyway, I went to the midwife today. She lifted up my shirt to do the doppler, and said, "Why hello there!" in a delighted way to my stomach. And affirmed, that yes, I've "popped." But in a lovely, celebratory way that made me feel great.
I also found out that I only gained two pounds since four weeks ago. Which makes absolutely no sense. I'm ever so much bigger. But whatever.
But this probably made me feel happier about her greeting my stomach as a separate entity from the rest of me?
I don't know exactly what my pre-pregnancy weight was, because the last time I got weighed was right after I came home from camp. Camp, where I didn't like the food and thus mainly subsisted on raw, organic, grass fed whole milk and fresh fruit. Mmm. I felt like I was glowing with good health... but it probably wasn't sustainable. And it wasn't really a diet to begin with.
Anyway, I got weighed at the RE's office right after I got home, and then.... oops!... the nurses forgot to weigh me more than a month later, when I started IVF. I'm nine pounds heavier now than I was immediately post-camp. I've gained four pounds since I first saw the midwife at nine weeks pregnant... so I'd guess I've gained... six pounds while pregnant?
Weight gain and IVF ended up being kind of an issue for me, what with getting Ovarian Hyperstimulation Syndrome (OHSS) and all, and ending up in the hospital. Now that was, for lack of a better word, a completely trippy experience. I should write about that. I still mull it over from time to time.
But anway, the point of this point, nearly lost and obscured now, was that the midwife heard the heartbeat!
So yay!!!! I'm still pregnant. Hallelujah.
I wonder when I will stop being surprised by this and settle into this pregnancy thing?
I'm still scared to believe it's all working. I've resisted talking to the Lentil, or even, calling it the baby. Not there yet. Maybe once I get to 19 weeks, and find out the sex (hopefully)? Once I get to 20 weeks, past where P lost her baby, and to where my dear friend Emily finally "forced" herself to bond with her pregnancy (after miscarriages at 12 and 17 weeks)?
PS Babyticker now says 159 days!!! I've entered a new... decade?
Sunday, February 27, 2011
Update re: Fat and Lazy
I just tried to run. I'm proud of myself for cramming my breasts into that suddenly tiny sports bra, and getting my butt out of my apartment (where I'd been working on my baby registry, for hours it felt like, in addition to catching up on email) and into the sunshine.
And I tried. But it was so weird... my belly felt like it was bobbing up and down! I didn't realize it was big enough to do that.
So I tried running (okay, who am I kidding, jogging extremely slowly) with one hand cupping my belly while the other swung at my side. That was better, but it still felt awkward. And I didn't know if it was a bad idea to let the belly bounce.
So I stopped.
Has anyone tried one of those belly bras?
And am I really big enough for one, anyway?
Scary.
And I tried. But it was so weird... my belly felt like it was bobbing up and down! I didn't realize it was big enough to do that.
So I tried running (okay, who am I kidding, jogging extremely slowly) with one hand cupping my belly while the other swung at my side. That was better, but it still felt awkward. And I didn't know if it was a bad idea to let the belly bounce.
So I stopped.
Has anyone tried one of those belly bras?
And am I really big enough for one, anyway?
Scary.
Fat and Lazy
In case it wasn't totally obvious from my last post (by the dream where medical office staff pronounce me fat), I'm having some body issues.
Not giant ones. Small to medium size ones.
I'm starting to "get" the pattern here. I get a little bigger, I freak out a little, then I get used to it and go on to enjoy the changes.
But now that I'm hovering ever closer to being visibly, obviously, pregnant, I'm a little scared. I don't know of exactly what. Partly that everyone will know my secret. Partly that I'm not going to totally like being big and pregnant.
Duh. I know. But still, it's scary.
But I'm also worried because in the week before last, I suddenly really didn't want to work out.
I was a pretty inactive child. I was small and really slow and uncoordinated, and running around never seemed like nearly as much fun as curling up with a book. I was definitely lazy.
As I got into high school, I realized that a lot of people actually enjoyed sports. And that it was a good way to make friends. And that all the clubs I participated in were a lot of work. So I started getting more active -- jogging on my own, joining the cross country team (for one season), joining the swim club (for one season, the only one it was in existence). I was still really slow, but I found it somewhat enjoyable. And I swore that when I got to college, I was going to be an athlete for real.
True to my word, I was a varsity athlete during my first two years of college -- swim team. Luckily for me, there were no tryouts, as I was still very slow. But the first season was really fun, in a bizarre way. I used to joke that swim "team" was really an individual sport with a support group. Even runners on a team can chat while they run.... swimmers can only talk in between laps.
The second season was less fun. The team was a very different group of people -- mostly freshman with eating disorders, it seemed -- and I retreated into shyness, and felt very alone. Our training trip to Florida was miserably lonely.
So after that season ended, I was glad to be done with teams. But I kept up with jogging.
And with some short breaks, have been a consistent runner ever since. The past ten years or so, I really haven't even taken any breaks, apart from for things like illness. Two days off in a row is the most I've taken since I went to Mexico in 2000 (and even that was barely longer).
Enter pregnancy.
I was given an elliptical by my best friend, Scott (god bless him, and yes, we have a slightly complicated relationship, as we used to date, and yeah, most people don't give their friends very expensive exercise equipment... but it works beautifully for us... in fact, I'm hoping to ask him to buy me a bed as a baby gift... i'm worried about sleeping on a futon frame with a baby and it crawling right over the arm rest that is in lieu of a headboard) when I was six weeks pregnant. It was also cold, dark, and icy outside. And I happily switched to using it instead of running. It's been great because it is sometimes (okay, often, or even usually) a struggle to get out for my run.
The elliptical is easy. Given the pregnancy fatigue, I've found morning workouts to be best. I just roll out of bed and onto the elliptical. Because of hitting the snooze button (nice use of the passive voice, eh?), I don't always get as long of a workout as I'd like, but at least I get some workout in. I aim for five days a week; some weeks are better than others. I wouldn't say I look forward to my workouts, but I don't exactly dread them, either... and I love how I feel afterwards.
Until last week. When suddenly, I really, really didn't want to work out. I managed only two days, Tuesday and Wednesday.
This is scaring me.
I don't want to become a person that is relatively inactive. Being an active, athletic person defines me. Not fully, of course, but it's a big part of who I am. It's what I do.
I don't know why I'm facing the sudden resistance.
I'm a relatively recent believer in listening to my body, so I didn't push past those two days. And then I went away, and while I brought my running clothes, it snowed twice while I was gone, and I didn't push the issue.
I've had several dreams about running recently, and especially with my recent fatigue with NYC, I wonder if my body is resisting the elliptical because it wants to be running? Maybe it needs that outdoors time?
But my running bras are now so small that I can't even force myself to put them on for the elliptical -- I wear a sleep bra instead. I tried to look at sports bras in a catolog over this past week, and just the idea of forcing that on my poor, hapless, and heavy breasts made me shudder. So how can I possibly run?
Plus, I get so out of breath these days. And now it's been so long since I've run that I'd be out of shape for it... plus add in the whole pregnancy belly and breasts and thighs thing...
So I don't know what to do.
But I'm really scared of becoming a person that doesn't work out. It's been my life raft, even on days I was sick of it. Which would be worse, forcing myself to do something I really don't want to do, or becoming some other person, someone who doesn't exercise???
Suggestions would be most appreciated! (And yes, I already walk. After all, I live in NYC. It's an inevitable part of life here.)
PS I'm down to 160 on the baby ticker. Yay! It's been good to be away -- time went quickly. And am gratified to see that the baby in the picture is more or less hairless (no lanugo) again. And I like that the legs are suddenly folded up. And that the neck isn't bent forward much anymore. But can anyone tell me why the neck is suddenly bent to one side? I haven't heard of that before. It's weird.
Not giant ones. Small to medium size ones.
I'm starting to "get" the pattern here. I get a little bigger, I freak out a little, then I get used to it and go on to enjoy the changes.
But now that I'm hovering ever closer to being visibly, obviously, pregnant, I'm a little scared. I don't know of exactly what. Partly that everyone will know my secret. Partly that I'm not going to totally like being big and pregnant.
Duh. I know. But still, it's scary.
But I'm also worried because in the week before last, I suddenly really didn't want to work out.
I was a pretty inactive child. I was small and really slow and uncoordinated, and running around never seemed like nearly as much fun as curling up with a book. I was definitely lazy.
As I got into high school, I realized that a lot of people actually enjoyed sports. And that it was a good way to make friends. And that all the clubs I participated in were a lot of work. So I started getting more active -- jogging on my own, joining the cross country team (for one season), joining the swim club (for one season, the only one it was in existence). I was still really slow, but I found it somewhat enjoyable. And I swore that when I got to college, I was going to be an athlete for real.
True to my word, I was a varsity athlete during my first two years of college -- swim team. Luckily for me, there were no tryouts, as I was still very slow. But the first season was really fun, in a bizarre way. I used to joke that swim "team" was really an individual sport with a support group. Even runners on a team can chat while they run.... swimmers can only talk in between laps.
The second season was less fun. The team was a very different group of people -- mostly freshman with eating disorders, it seemed -- and I retreated into shyness, and felt very alone. Our training trip to Florida was miserably lonely.
So after that season ended, I was glad to be done with teams. But I kept up with jogging.
And with some short breaks, have been a consistent runner ever since. The past ten years or so, I really haven't even taken any breaks, apart from for things like illness. Two days off in a row is the most I've taken since I went to Mexico in 2000 (and even that was barely longer).
Enter pregnancy.
I was given an elliptical by my best friend, Scott (god bless him, and yes, we have a slightly complicated relationship, as we used to date, and yeah, most people don't give their friends very expensive exercise equipment... but it works beautifully for us... in fact, I'm hoping to ask him to buy me a bed as a baby gift... i'm worried about sleeping on a futon frame with a baby and it crawling right over the arm rest that is in lieu of a headboard) when I was six weeks pregnant. It was also cold, dark, and icy outside. And I happily switched to using it instead of running. It's been great because it is sometimes (okay, often, or even usually) a struggle to get out for my run.
The elliptical is easy. Given the pregnancy fatigue, I've found morning workouts to be best. I just roll out of bed and onto the elliptical. Because of hitting the snooze button (nice use of the passive voice, eh?), I don't always get as long of a workout as I'd like, but at least I get some workout in. I aim for five days a week; some weeks are better than others. I wouldn't say I look forward to my workouts, but I don't exactly dread them, either... and I love how I feel afterwards.
Until last week. When suddenly, I really, really didn't want to work out. I managed only two days, Tuesday and Wednesday.
This is scaring me.
I don't want to become a person that is relatively inactive. Being an active, athletic person defines me. Not fully, of course, but it's a big part of who I am. It's what I do.
I don't know why I'm facing the sudden resistance.
I'm a relatively recent believer in listening to my body, so I didn't push past those two days. And then I went away, and while I brought my running clothes, it snowed twice while I was gone, and I didn't push the issue.
I've had several dreams about running recently, and especially with my recent fatigue with NYC, I wonder if my body is resisting the elliptical because it wants to be running? Maybe it needs that outdoors time?
But my running bras are now so small that I can't even force myself to put them on for the elliptical -- I wear a sleep bra instead. I tried to look at sports bras in a catolog over this past week, and just the idea of forcing that on my poor, hapless, and heavy breasts made me shudder. So how can I possibly run?
Plus, I get so out of breath these days. And now it's been so long since I've run that I'd be out of shape for it... plus add in the whole pregnancy belly and breasts and thighs thing...
So I don't know what to do.
But I'm really scared of becoming a person that doesn't work out. It's been my life raft, even on days I was sick of it. Which would be worse, forcing myself to do something I really don't want to do, or becoming some other person, someone who doesn't exercise???
Suggestions would be most appreciated! (And yes, I already walk. After all, I live in NYC. It's an inevitable part of life here.)
PS I'm down to 160 on the baby ticker. Yay! It's been good to be away -- time went quickly. And am gratified to see that the baby in the picture is more or less hairless (no lanugo) again. And I like that the legs are suddenly folded up. And that the neck isn't bent forward much anymore. But can anyone tell me why the neck is suddenly bent to one side? I haven't heard of that before. It's weird.
Saturday, February 26, 2011
Welcome home
I've returned home to Brooklyn, where it is relatively warm and absolutely sunny, and best of all, totally snow-less!
It was wonderful to be gone for the week... extended by a day when we got an unexpected foot or so of snow yesterday... but it's also really nice not to see any snow.
I loved spending time with my sister and nieces (and brother in law, to a lesser extent -- he wasn't around much). My nieces don't get as jacked up to see me as they used to, and they aren't snuggly any more... but it's just a warm, cozy feeling we all get, being together. I helped my sister do a little cleaning of her "office" (read: dumping ground) and we went through some baby clothes and equipment she's been saving. Yesterday we all went sledding, which was fun, though surprisingly hard work with the snow being so very deep on the hillside. And last night the girls got to show me their very favorite movie, which I have never, ever seen... The Sound of Music. The six year old crooning along in my ear, slightly off-key and not always on target with the words... that was the funniest part. But we all got under the covers in my pullout couch bed, and that was very sweet... they clearly loved that.
I've included some pics of my belly, which seems to have suddenly grown again. You can see from the one where my shirt covers my stomach that it's still not totally obvious yet. Just suspicious looking. And of course I am not walking around these days with my shirts tucked in.
Last night I dreamed I was back at the office of my Reproductive Endocrinologist (aka Fertility Doctor) and his office staff were saying, nope, it's not because of pregnancy, you're just fat.
I also dreamed that I had all sorts of old clothes, dresses and things, stashed in his office, and was gathering them up to bring them home. I really must get over this weird relationship he and I have in my dream life.
The last couple of days, it's suddenly really uncomfortable to lie on my stomach. I thought the belly would be what forced me to give up my beloved prone sleeping position. But no, I'm scared it's the boobs that are saying, nah, it's us, and it's now.
It was wonderful to be gone for the week... extended by a day when we got an unexpected foot or so of snow yesterday... but it's also really nice not to see any snow.
I loved spending time with my sister and nieces (and brother in law, to a lesser extent -- he wasn't around much). My nieces don't get as jacked up to see me as they used to, and they aren't snuggly any more... but it's just a warm, cozy feeling we all get, being together. I helped my sister do a little cleaning of her "office" (read: dumping ground) and we went through some baby clothes and equipment she's been saving. Yesterday we all went sledding, which was fun, though surprisingly hard work with the snow being so very deep on the hillside. And last night the girls got to show me their very favorite movie, which I have never, ever seen... The Sound of Music. The six year old crooning along in my ear, slightly off-key and not always on target with the words... that was the funniest part. But we all got under the covers in my pullout couch bed, and that was very sweet... they clearly loved that.
I've included some pics of my belly, which seems to have suddenly grown again. You can see from the one where my shirt covers my stomach that it's still not totally obvious yet. Just suspicious looking. And of course I am not walking around these days with my shirts tucked in.
Last night I dreamed I was back at the office of my Reproductive Endocrinologist (aka Fertility Doctor) and his office staff were saying, nope, it's not because of pregnancy, you're just fat.
I also dreamed that I had all sorts of old clothes, dresses and things, stashed in his office, and was gathering them up to bring them home. I really must get over this weird relationship he and I have in my dream life.
The last couple of days, it's suddenly really uncomfortable to lie on my stomach. I thought the belly would be what forced me to give up my beloved prone sleeping position. But no, I'm scared it's the boobs that are saying, nah, it's us, and it's now.
Sunday, February 20, 2011
Leaving NYC
I'm heading to Woodstock, New York, today for a few days with my friend E, also a SMC, and her darling daughter, A, almost 3 years old.
A is an inspiration to any SMC Thinker. She's brilliant and sweet and totally adorable. She gets SOOO excited everytime she sees me. I like that in a person. Apparently she was having a melt down on Friday morning because she wanted to talk to me and no one else would do. I'm quite sure this was not what her mother was hoping for when she needed to get to work... but it made me feel GREAT!
After Woodstock, I am taking the bus to see my sister and nieces, and oh yeah, my brother in law in the Berkshires. I will get to break the exciting news to my nieces! Hopefully they will be excited, too.
I'm so happy to get out of NYC. The last couple of weeks, I'm so sick of it I could scream. When we had tons of snow, dog owners apparently decided that their dogs' messes were invisible... and now the snow is gone and their yuckiness is everywhere.
Mostly I just miss trees and grass and cows and birds singing and MOUNTAINS. So much. When my online friend, C, posts pictures of going hiking with her little girl, my heart hurts. I always thought I would be the cool mama who taught her little one that hiking was fun by setting out on a new outdoor adventure every weekend. And here I am, instead, in my urban jungle.
I think the fact that I switched to the elliptical from running once I got pregnant is hurting me here. Well, I am guessing it might be. Even though I didn't often run long enough to not only run to, but also inside, the park, I think being outside and breathing hard made me more connected with the outside world than just walking to and from the subway. And now I work out in my living room. Not the same at all.
I'm hoping my week away will really help. I know it would be crazy to move just when I need my support system the most.
In other news, Albees was a disappointment. Even though we got there early, the place filled up fast. I was in the stroller section and this expectant mom was desperately trying to engage her bored husband's interest in strollers, explaining the virtues of each, based upon her hours of research ahead of time... He basically said, "I like the yellow one. But not in yellow." Poor girl looked about ready to scream.
I smirked. I couldn't help it.
Being single is not all bad, girls.
Albees, anyway. The staff were not so nice. Harried and impatient and not particularly patient. One guy did show me the snap n go with the car seat I wanted... but he wasn't sure of the weight of the car seat. And you know, I'm a New Yorker. It's all about the weight.
Worst of all, their store registry is not connected to their website.
So what's the point???
Back to Amazon it is.
My jeans were driving me crazy yesterday. Apparently I am carrying a baby in my thighs. The waist, meanwhile, is just fine. I mean, it's a bit swollen, but it's not where the issue is at with these jeans. I still need a belt, only the buckle digs into my slightly protruberant belly when I sit down. But with the buckle at only one notch, the jeans sit too low, and make me waddle all the more. But there's no longer much of a hip ledge for the belt to ride above, so I can't buckle the belt any tighter, even if that belly wasn't there.
So my brunch-mate, who is nice and curvy (unlike my friend Salt Lick, who went to Albees with me and is built like Jessica Rabbit -- stick skinny with huge boobs), went with me to the Gap and helped me buy two pairs of jeans. I have never bought two pairs of jeans together in my life. What would be the point? Why would you need more than one pair? But I suppose I am finally succumbing to the advice that I buy some bigger, non-maternity clothes, for now as well as post-baby. Because I am clearly not ready for maternity clothes... but if I had to wear those jeans one more minute, I was going to scream. So I got one pair that fits pretty well now (still a little snug in the thighs, but I reckon they will stretch, as all new jeans do, unlike the ones I was already wearing, which are no longer new), plus one slightly baggier pair for a bit later.
Immediately afterwards, I went to Starbucks to go to the bathroom again and then put on the new jeans. Phew. I do not like thinking about the size of my expanding thighs every minute, which was what was happening with the old jeans. I think this should help. Once they stretch. Hopefully very, very soon.
Speaking of the bathroom, two of my close friends do not have this bathroom issue. That is totally unfair. Going to the bathroom every thirty minutes only to pee a scant amount.... completely annoying.
A is an inspiration to any SMC Thinker. She's brilliant and sweet and totally adorable. She gets SOOO excited everytime she sees me. I like that in a person. Apparently she was having a melt down on Friday morning because she wanted to talk to me and no one else would do. I'm quite sure this was not what her mother was hoping for when she needed to get to work... but it made me feel GREAT!
After Woodstock, I am taking the bus to see my sister and nieces, and oh yeah, my brother in law in the Berkshires. I will get to break the exciting news to my nieces! Hopefully they will be excited, too.
I'm so happy to get out of NYC. The last couple of weeks, I'm so sick of it I could scream. When we had tons of snow, dog owners apparently decided that their dogs' messes were invisible... and now the snow is gone and their yuckiness is everywhere.
Mostly I just miss trees and grass and cows and birds singing and MOUNTAINS. So much. When my online friend, C, posts pictures of going hiking with her little girl, my heart hurts. I always thought I would be the cool mama who taught her little one that hiking was fun by setting out on a new outdoor adventure every weekend. And here I am, instead, in my urban jungle.
I think the fact that I switched to the elliptical from running once I got pregnant is hurting me here. Well, I am guessing it might be. Even though I didn't often run long enough to not only run to, but also inside, the park, I think being outside and breathing hard made me more connected with the outside world than just walking to and from the subway. And now I work out in my living room. Not the same at all.
I'm hoping my week away will really help. I know it would be crazy to move just when I need my support system the most.
In other news, Albees was a disappointment. Even though we got there early, the place filled up fast. I was in the stroller section and this expectant mom was desperately trying to engage her bored husband's interest in strollers, explaining the virtues of each, based upon her hours of research ahead of time... He basically said, "I like the yellow one. But not in yellow." Poor girl looked about ready to scream.
I smirked. I couldn't help it.
Being single is not all bad, girls.
Albees, anyway. The staff were not so nice. Harried and impatient and not particularly patient. One guy did show me the snap n go with the car seat I wanted... but he wasn't sure of the weight of the car seat. And you know, I'm a New Yorker. It's all about the weight.
Worst of all, their store registry is not connected to their website.
So what's the point???
Back to Amazon it is.
My jeans were driving me crazy yesterday. Apparently I am carrying a baby in my thighs. The waist, meanwhile, is just fine. I mean, it's a bit swollen, but it's not where the issue is at with these jeans. I still need a belt, only the buckle digs into my slightly protruberant belly when I sit down. But with the buckle at only one notch, the jeans sit too low, and make me waddle all the more. But there's no longer much of a hip ledge for the belt to ride above, so I can't buckle the belt any tighter, even if that belly wasn't there.
So my brunch-mate, who is nice and curvy (unlike my friend Salt Lick, who went to Albees with me and is built like Jessica Rabbit -- stick skinny with huge boobs), went with me to the Gap and helped me buy two pairs of jeans. I have never bought two pairs of jeans together in my life. What would be the point? Why would you need more than one pair? But I suppose I am finally succumbing to the advice that I buy some bigger, non-maternity clothes, for now as well as post-baby. Because I am clearly not ready for maternity clothes... but if I had to wear those jeans one more minute, I was going to scream. So I got one pair that fits pretty well now (still a little snug in the thighs, but I reckon they will stretch, as all new jeans do, unlike the ones I was already wearing, which are no longer new), plus one slightly baggier pair for a bit later.
Immediately afterwards, I went to Starbucks to go to the bathroom again and then put on the new jeans. Phew. I do not like thinking about the size of my expanding thighs every minute, which was what was happening with the old jeans. I think this should help. Once they stretch. Hopefully very, very soon.
Speaking of the bathroom, two of my close friends do not have this bathroom issue. That is totally unfair. Going to the bathroom every thirty minutes only to pee a scant amount.... completely annoying.
Saturday, February 19, 2011
Time Goes So Slowly
I thought I would be so thrilled to see my Baby Ticker in the 160s... it's at 168 days until fully cooked, today... but I'm not.
I'm impatient. Nothing in the world matters besides meeting the Lentil.
What's wrong with me? I've always been a "be here now" kind of girl, or at least, one who strove to be.
I don't like this about myself. I should be reveling in my last days as a single person. Whooping it up.
Yet at the same time, I can't believe I'm 40 percent done!!! I'm 16 weeks today, or four months pregnant! Yee haw! Only four more weeks until the halfway point. Only eight weeks until viability (god forbid I have a 24 weeker!!! After my months of working in the NICU, I always swore I'd flee for the hills if I went into labor at 24 weeks. But still.)
Today I'm going with a friend to scope out a few more baby things for the registry. My mother grew up on the Upper West Side, so when I told her that was where I was headed for baby shopping, she asked what store. When I told her a store named Albee's, she told me, "I went there in 1951 with my parents to buy a baby carriage for your uncle. And I got my first bike there."
How's that for cool??? Now I want to buy everything there.
The big question (the big and boring question, at least for anyone not in my exact situation) is what kind of stroller I should get. My friend offered me her second McClaren Quest, for free. I should just take this and call it a day, right? I mean, what an amazing offer! But the handlebars are all torn up and I'm a New Yorker and so I use a stroller like Americans elsewhere use a car. And I don't want to spend 3-4 years pushing a stroller with torn up handlebars. Is that wrong? Selfish? Consumeristic?
And then I kind of like the Vista G-deluxe. Which is a pound lighter than the Quest, and reclines a little further, and has bigger wheels. But isn't, you know, a McClaren. Umbrella stroller to the stars and all that. Certainly the most popular stroller in NYC, at least among lightweight ones that you can carry down subway stairs. And can be fixed anywhere, because they are are so popular.
So this is what I am obsessing about, since I can't meet my baby (!!!) just yet and I don't seem to invested in the rest of my life.
Sorry, I'm practicing becoming a really boring person now. In preparation for parenthood (goddess willing), when I will be discussing my child's digestive habits at length, I suppose.
I'm impatient. Nothing in the world matters besides meeting the Lentil.
What's wrong with me? I've always been a "be here now" kind of girl, or at least, one who strove to be.
I don't like this about myself. I should be reveling in my last days as a single person. Whooping it up.
Yet at the same time, I can't believe I'm 40 percent done!!! I'm 16 weeks today, or four months pregnant! Yee haw! Only four more weeks until the halfway point. Only eight weeks until viability (god forbid I have a 24 weeker!!! After my months of working in the NICU, I always swore I'd flee for the hills if I went into labor at 24 weeks. But still.)
Today I'm going with a friend to scope out a few more baby things for the registry. My mother grew up on the Upper West Side, so when I told her that was where I was headed for baby shopping, she asked what store. When I told her a store named Albee's, she told me, "I went there in 1951 with my parents to buy a baby carriage for your uncle. And I got my first bike there."
How's that for cool??? Now I want to buy everything there.
The big question (the big and boring question, at least for anyone not in my exact situation) is what kind of stroller I should get. My friend offered me her second McClaren Quest, for free. I should just take this and call it a day, right? I mean, what an amazing offer! But the handlebars are all torn up and I'm a New Yorker and so I use a stroller like Americans elsewhere use a car. And I don't want to spend 3-4 years pushing a stroller with torn up handlebars. Is that wrong? Selfish? Consumeristic?
And then I kind of like the Vista G-deluxe. Which is a pound lighter than the Quest, and reclines a little further, and has bigger wheels. But isn't, you know, a McClaren. Umbrella stroller to the stars and all that. Certainly the most popular stroller in NYC, at least among lightweight ones that you can carry down subway stairs. And can be fixed anywhere, because they are are so popular.
So this is what I am obsessing about, since I can't meet my baby (!!!) just yet and I don't seem to invested in the rest of my life.
Sorry, I'm practicing becoming a really boring person now. In preparation for parenthood (goddess willing), when I will be discussing my child's digestive habits at length, I suppose.
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