What the food?!


Food and I don’t along, we never have. Food is an ass hole. Everything tastes better than skinny feels. I know it, you know it, it’s true. That is why food is an ass hole. I want to change this relationship. Food isn’t really my friend, but it also isn’t my enemy. Food just needs to be put in it’s place, like the ass hole it is. I’m the boss, learn to live with it, food!

I decided I want to take control of this relationship. I’m tried of feeling gross because I things that don’t love me as much as I love them. I’m over the chronic headaches that are certainly a combination of junky food and too little water. I’m sick of not having any motivation or inspiration in my life, and mostly I am sick of being miserable all the time.

In the advice of a friend I picked up the book Food Starts Here on Amazon. It arrived today and I am already digging into it. It sounds like a challenging exercise. One that will seriously work out my will power. My hope is that by following the advice in this book and other sources I will share along the way, I will be able to identify the things that make me feel like junk and the things that make me feel great.

This is going to be really hard, I know that. My hope is that by detailing my efforts here, even if nobody reads this, I will feel obligated to someone other than myself. It’s much easier to follow through when someone is counting on you finishing. I’ll take the next couple of weeks to read through this book, maybe talk to some experts, and after Valentine’s Day my journey will start. I’ll update here at least every Saturday, but hopefully more often. There is only so much a person with a crazy toddler can do!

Wish me luck!


The grand debut!


November 28th, oh if you could see that day on my calendar.  Unfortunately I don’t know how to take a screen shot on my phone, or if I even can…  Just believe me, it’s a full day.  At the top it has an 8, that is 8 days until my due date.  Then a 9:15 appointment for an NST, 1:30 appointment with the specialist to have an ultrasound to see how big Little Miss is, and a 4:30 appointment to have my car seat installed.  That was the basic run down of how that day was meant to go.  So much for planning!

9:00 – Still not out the door.  Neither Bunny or I slept well the night before and we were both severely dragging.  I knew I was going to be late for this appointment, but I had to at least try.  I hadn’t missed a single prenatal appointment and I wasn’t about to start now, with only one week left.  I left the house in yoga pants.

9:40 – ‘Oh, my appointment was at 9:15?  I could have sworn it was at 9:45…’  The doctor saw me anyway, even thought I was past the 15 minute late window.  I peed in their cup, tried not to look at the number on the scale, and was directed to a room.  Before the test they ask the basic questions medications and what not, and take blood pressure.  Now, my blood pressure had been doing wonky things for the entire third and most of the second trimester.  When I would go in in the morning it would be high, but by the time I left the office it would be normal.  I also have pretty nasty headaches that raise my blood pressure, and on this particular day I was ultra crabby from no sleep.  I expected it to be high, but when she took it I was floored.  I don’t remember what it was exactly, but the bottom number was over 100.  She said what she always said, that we would check it again after the test.  I always found a non stress test relaxing.  I got to lay back with my book and listen to my baby’s heart beat.  It was fantastic.  To be honest I kind of miss it.

Well anyway, she was going to hook me up to the machine when another nurse popped in and asked what my blood pressure was.  After hearing it she said to not hook me up, I may be going to the hospital to be induced, and the doctor would be right in.  Oh really?  Well WTF.  I so did NOT want to be induced.  I had been concerned that they would try to induce me early because of gestational diabetes (a fear that was about to be confirmed) and I was prepared to fight them on that.  Well, the doctor came in and informed me that I had +4 protein in my urine, and combined with my extremely high blood pressure I had pre eclampsia and being only a week from my due date the safest thing to do at that point would be to induce.  Ok, I agreed with that.  Lets do it!  (She also told me that they were going to look a inducing anyway because of the GD.  Yea, wouldn’t have happened.)

I don’t know what time I left the office, because I was on the phone.  I had to call my Mom.  Mom lives in Georgia, and I in Indiana.  I had to call her a couple times to get her to answer at work, and of course by then she thought something was wrong.  I suppose something kind of was…  Well, I let her know that I was being sent to the hospital to be checked out and probably induced.  I stressed probably, I wasn’t sure yet.  I had to because I knew what her next step was, she started working on getting up here from Georgia. By the time I finished talking to Mom we were home.

Remember how I said I was running late?  Yes, this is me admitting to going to the doctor without a shower.  Not my normal style, really.  So, back home I was able to do what most women aren’t, I spent a bunch of time preparing myself for a 4 day hospital stay.  I got to take a nice long hot shower (WITH my husband, knew that wouldn’t be happening again for a good long time!) I checked my bags to make sure I had everything.  Checked twice and realized I didn’t have everything, got the things I had missed.  We took the dog out, and left him there with the cat.  It was tense, we were both excited, but it wasn’t pure panic mode, and that was nice.  When I was getting dressed I did one thing that I will never forget, I think it made a difference in the whole experience.  I put a silky cami on under my shirt.  Two reasons, the shirt I had on was pretty low cut and it was cold out, and also I thought it would be nice to have it so that I could be at least a little bit discreet in the tub I was planning to labor in.  Discreet turned out to be a silly idea, bu we’re not there yet.  The cami came in useful for other reasons too, not the least of which was that I could wear it under the hospital gown without it bunching up.

1:00 the approximate time that we arrived at the hospital.  I guess we got there a little late.  We were the last of a sudden rush of pregnant women to show up, and triage was full!!!  We sat by the admit desk for a few minutes while they got it sorted out and we were taken to a room in special care obstetrics.  Yay for that, I have been in the triage rooms, this was much nicer and I ended up staying in that room for quite some time. The nurses hooked me up with a stylin hosital gown and a cup to pee in.  It was pretty sweet.  Then they took my blood pressure and some of my blood.  Total 5 star service.

After a bit the doctor came in, she checked me and I wasn’t dilated at all, not even close.  Well, she told me that my protein levels were still elevated, and I could see that, while not as high, my blood pressure was still high. So, induction it would be.  Well, most likely.  She didn’t seem to want to say anything for certain until the blood work came back.  The nurses did come back to put an i.v. line in though.  I wasn’t too thrilled about it, but I wasn’t getting tied to a pole so I didn’t refuse it.  I wish now that I would have.  It took them a few tries to get it in, my vein just wouldn’t stay still.  Not their fault at all, nurses often have trouble with my veins.

Some time after that I confirmed with my Mom that I was almost certainly being induced.  She started looking for flights, but we were trying to wait until the doctor made a concrete decision.  I also started trying to call other family.  Basically my Aunt and Grandma.  Well, my Aunt’s phone was not functioning properly and I couldn’t reach her, and Grandma seemed to be out of the house without her cell phone.  I tried for HOURS until finally I called my cousin who was in South Dakota at the time and she gave me her Mom’s new home number.  I suppose it must not have been much later that my cousin started heading toward home.  Nonstop.  Bunny didn’t talk to his Mom until later that night, she keeps her phone powered off during work.  She wouldn’t be able to come down from Maine anyway, and I didn’t want to worry her.  I do think he called his sister though.

4:00ish The doctor came in after my blood work came back, everything was good, even my blood sugar, which hadn’t given me much trouble anyway.  She told me what she was looking at as far as induction and was thinking about starting cervidil around midnight.  This was also about the same time the nurse advised me to order food.  Good idea!  The food sucked, but I needed it.  We just kind of hung out.  Eventually the t.v. landed on TLC.  Yes, I watched TLC.  Actually I spent the rest of that day and much of the next watching alternating episodes of Hoarders and some intervention show they have.  I still feel dirty.  I got very little knitting done, one row I think, and only slightly more reading, both pleasures I rarely get to indulge in now.  Called Mom, gave her the news, and she found a flight!

6:00pm The doctor came back in, with a nurse, and a dose of cervidil.  She decided to go ahead and start it then instead of at midnight. This was I would get cervidil at 6, 12, and 6.  This way I could get pitocin (ugh) in the morning and get things going early.  Sounded good to me!  So, we started induction.  It sucked.  After they put the cervidil in they had to monitor the baby for 2 hours.  For at least one of those hours I needed to be laying back.  It was horrible.  Sitting reclined in that hospital bed put SO MUCH pressure on my already tender hips it was all I could do not to rip the monitor off of my belly.  I’d been having problem with my hips since very early in the pregnancy, so anything that irritated them was agony.  I made it though. I stared contracting after the first dose.  I didn’t feel it though, they were pretty weak contractions, but it was a good sign.  After that first dose Bunny left to get himself some dinner, and I had mine brought to me.  Room service is cool, regardless of how crummy the food is!

12:00am Second dose of cervidil.  This time I didn’t make it through the whole 2 hours on the monitor, but they had the results they needed and let me off early.  Bunny pulled the sofa out into a bed and we started to wind down for the night.  The shower in the room was awful, but I am so glad I fumbled through it.

2:30ish am FULL LABOR!  I didn’t make it to the final dose of cervidil, much less the morning does of pitocin (yay!).  I went from absolutely nothing to 90 second contractions every 3 minutes in nothing.  And these were hard contractions.  Everything that I had read about induced contractions being harder has got to be true, this was awful.  I would have been fine if I had the time to collect myself between, but I didn’t.  I was pretty ok at first.  I was managing the pain and looking for the best method but they just kept getting stronger and faster and closer together.  For 2 hours I walked around the room, got down on my hands and knees, leaned over the back of a chair, you name it and I tried it.

3:30am  I gave in.  I had a really hard time giving in, I did NOT want drugs.  Sean knew that, the nurses knew that, I had made it very clear.  I was not offered anything, not once.  Sean convinced me that it was ok.  I wasn’t handling labor well, and I needed to calm down.  No good could come from the state I was in.  When I called the nurse in she offered nubain first.  She said it would just take the edge off.  Perfect, that’s what I wanted I just hadn’t known it existed.  If only it had worked.  I was still determined though. After I got that they told me they had a room ready for me in L&D.  That meant bath tub!  Yay bath tub, I am a super hero in the bath tub.  The nurse filled the tub for me and Sean helped me in, but it just didn’t do it for me.  I think that by this point I was just too keyed up.  Reluctantly I let the nurse know that it was time for an epidural. I got another dose of nubain before the epidural was placed, I never felt it.  I was really afraid I would.  Man, I like nubain!  I got seriously loopy.  I tried to make a rock on sign with my fingers, but couldn’t seem to remember how.  I did know that if I did the wrong finger gesture it could be offensive, so I held my hand up and said ‘Bunny, which one is the offensive finger?’  That has become kind of a running joke.

Blessed sleep… I have no clue what time I woke up.  I didn’t really care at the time.  I guess it was probably around 10.  At some point I talked to Mom and she wanted me to ask the baby to wait until after 3:30 because that’s about the time that she would get to the hospital. I met one resident, then the shift changed and I met another.  Another doctor from my OB office came in.  I had a pretty great nurse. Medical staff came and went, I watched bad tv.  The doctor came in at some point to check me and break my water.  I was at 4cm and still not really feeling contractions.  Eventually my Aunt showed up, then my Mom’s friend.  Grandma came and went at one point.  Mom did show up right at 3:30, with my brother and his girlfriend.  It’s really all kind of a blur, it was then too.

I don’t know what time they got me up and made me start pushing, but it was right before Mom arrived that I hit 8cm.  So I guess baby listened.  I lost complete track of time once I started pushing.  It may have been 1 hour, it may have been 8.  Most of the time it went well.  The nurse helped with different positions, but none of it was really doing anything.  I was absolutely feeling it now, and I had opted to quit hitting the button on my epidural.  I wanted to feel this, I needed to know where she was.  Pushing wasn’t doing anything (I wasn’t surprised, I had read a bit on purple pushing and was only doing it to distract myself) so I got people to help me sit up.  I sat with my feet together kind of hanging off of the squatting bar on the bed and focused on my breathing.  I really could feel her moving down then.  It was really cool.  It hurt, but it was an amazing experience.

The nurse was very supportive and encouraged me to do whatever felt right.  I wish she could have stayed the entire time. Nurse shift change, dun dun dun.  When the nurses were switching shifts I started to feel that awful pain in my hips again, I needed to roll onto my side and NOW.  I had asked my family to leave while the nurses did a catheter, dumb idea.  After she did that I started trying to pull myself over.  I couldn’t move the lower half of my body but I could feel it and it HURT.  I didn’t have the help and I needed to move so I just started pulling myself over.  The nurse pushed me back down.  She was dead set on keeping me on my back and only gave in and quit holding me down when I started crying and yelling at her.  Her first move when I told her I was in pain was to pick up the epidural button, the one with a sticker clearly stating the no one but the patient is to push it, and pushed it.  She didn’t give me the chance to tell her no.  It didn’t help anyway.

When I finally got over onto my side I felt a huge release of tension.  I could feel my hips opening up and giving the baby more room to move. That was when the doctor came in and threatened to cut me open in an hour if the baby wasn’t out.  I would have liked to see him try that.  It didn’t matter though.  I started pushing from my side, and idea which the nurse promptly took credit for, and baby was progressing!  I have no idea how long I did that before the nurse said it was time and went after the doctor.  Pushing her out was really a cool experience.  I could feel her little head going back and forth when I would push then stop.  I could tell that she was just almost there.  I had a really hard time with all the noise everyone was making, and I did my best to just tune them all out.

Toward the end of one push I could tell that she was so so close to the point of no return.  I just didn’t stop.  I couldn’t breath, my lungs were screaming, everything wanted me to stop but I just refused and then there she was.  I don’t know how long it took, or how many pushes, and I really don’t care.  She came out the right way and that’s what really matters to me. Any worry I had about the epidural making her groggy was unnecessary.  As soon as she was able she started to scream.  It was the most beautiful sound I had ever heard.  Everyone told me that she was also flailing her arms and legs.  She was a grumpy baby from the moment she was born!  She didn’t go straight to me, NICU had to look at her because of there was meconium in the amniotic fluid.  I needed a minute to regroup anyway.  Somewhere in here the doctor said ‘isn’t anybody going to take a picture?’ woops…  Phones came out and Mom handed me my camera because she couldn’t get it to work.  On the delivery table and I am still fixing the electronics!

The first hour was all mine.  I absolutely rubbed that in too.  I have always been afraid of newborns, I don’t think I had ever had one.  They are just so tiny and delicate.  Well, never had I seen one as tiny as my own.  She was 6 pounds 9 ounces (EAT THAT obnoxious gestational diabetes ‘specialist’!)  They put this tiny little ball on my chest and she just curled up into me.  She didn’t fuss or cry, she just relaxed.  The nurse helped me feed her for the first time.  It took a couple position changes but when we found the one she started nursing like a champ (and hasn’t stopped!)  I cuddled my girl for a deliriously happy hour before handing her off to Bunny.  Everyone wanted a turn, and everyone got one.

10:00pm(ish) They moved us out of the delivery room to a mother baby suite and kicked everyone else out.  Bunny stayed with the baby and Nurse Ratched took me to my room.  I tried to tell her that something was wrong with my i.v. site but she didn’t care to hear it.  She even gave the new nurse an attitude because she insisted that they check bracelets as per hospital policy.  Oh well, at least I didn’t have to deal with that woman any more.  She made me so angry, and 2 months later I still feel violated.

Normally they take baby to the nursery for a bath, but they did it in our room.  After the bath they swaddled her, as soon as they were gone I untied her.  I was going to give that new baby as much time on my bare skin as I could in those first 24 hours.  I actually tucked her into my hospital gown, and she fell right to sleep.  Someone helped me feed her again, and after that I was tired.  I had them help me swaddle her again and I tried to sleep.  I don’t remember much about that night.  I remember her wailing, and feeding her.  Bunny says they took her to the nursery so I could rest.

The next two days in the hospital were nice, but I was ready to go home after those 24 hours.  Remember that pink cami I said came in so handy?  I kept her in my shirt most of the day both days that we were there.  It made us both happy.  I would strip her to her diaper and tuck her into my shirt.  It was fantastic.  I wouldn’t have been able to do it if I hadn’t put that silly cami on at the last second to attempt tp I really miss being able to keep her in my shirt like that, but I still wear my baby.


A Brand New Baby Girl

Asleep In Mommy's Hospital Gown

Asleep In Mommy's Pink Cami

The Best Place To Be

Alice Sophia, Born 11-29-2011 8:01pm 6 Pounds 9 Ounces 19 1/2 Inches Long

Home stretch with the nesting Dad


I haven’t written very much lately, I have been very busy.  Not only do we have the holidays right around the corner, Bunny and I still have quite a bit left to do before Little Miss makes her debut.  I also thought I would go ahead and give NaNoWriMo a shot this year.  I enjoyed that for two entire weeks.  Not to say I stopped enjoying it, I just got too stressed to continue.  I like my story idea though, so maybe I will revisit it next year.  I met some fun people, and I had a good time, and some GREAT hot chocolate.  (I am so happy to know that there is a South bend Chocolate Company Chocolate Cafe IN the hospital where I am planning on delivering!)  During all of this I didn’t even notice when I crossed over into month 9.  I guess I felt like I was waiting for that week 37 mile marker, and just kind of lumped the two things together.  Well, I passed it.  Today is day one of week 38!

37 weeks, that’s full term people!  Home stretch!  Egads my house isn’t clean!  Ok, that’s not entirely true.  My house is clean!  I can’t really take much credit for that, Bunny has been doing an awful lot around here.  I just don’t feel like things are just right yet.  I am trying to get over it.  I really kind of have to.  I can’t expect anyone else to express my insanity in how I think the house should be, and I certainly can’t do it myself.  My body has decided that we should celebrate the end of this pregnancy the way we celebrated the beginning.  With a horrible cold!

Right before I found out that I was pregnant I got sick.  I mean SICK!  It was just a cold.  Lol, JUST a cold.  The cold that time forgot.  For 3 weeks I was couch ridden and surrounded with tissues and drugs of all sorts.  Like I said, I didn’t know I was pregnant, and on the rare occasion that I do get sick I am a pansy and suck down cold medicine.  Nothing  helped, nothing could touch this cold.  I had never experienced anything like it.  I am normally pretty healthy.  I get the sniffles and sometimes that ucky hacking cough from time to time.  It usually passes quickly though.

3 weeks…  Well, shortly after that I found out that my immune system was compromised in an attempt to keep my body from rejecting it’s new little friend.  I will never forget that cold though, I felt like I was going to die.  I felt… a lot like I feel RIGHT NOW!!!  I got sick about a week ago, and ran straight out for some sudafed.  Magic red pills I call them.  That and some tissues and voila, I was feeling better a mere two days later.  What a joke!  I felt well for an entire DAY then I started coughing.  You know that lovely feeling when you lay down and suddenly your nose plugs up and you can’t breath?  Yea, I had that in my throat.  It didn’t stop me from breathing, but it did scare the bujeezus out of me and I couldn’t sleep.  It’s been most of a week, and despite a killer sinus headache that just won’t quit, I am starting to feel better.  What a relief.  The last thing I need is to be sick when I go into labor.  Could you imagine that?  Coughing and pushing?  Egads, it hurts my chest to think about it.

That has been my last two weeks, and hopefully it ends soon.  I am really feeling helpless.  I can’t lean over the sink without standing so far away that I have to rest on my arms.  So dishes are a challenge.  I can’t reach my left leg at ALL.  So, shoes socks, even pants are things I need help with.  Once in a while I make the mistake of getting down on the floor to do something and I can’t get back up.  This morning I left the bathroom door open while I showered in case I needed help!  I get reports that I snore so loud that no body near me can sleep.  I hate to admit it but it wakes me up too.

Throughout all of this (and random crying fits) Bunny has come to my rescue every single time.  Even tonight when I needed some caffeine as a last ditch effort to get this headache to break, he ran out and got it for me.  I woke up around 3am a couple days ago and he was still up.  Did I complain?  Oh no, nonono, he was on his second load with the dishwasher.  I let him be.  He is working hard on the baby’s room too, trying to get my vision for what it should look like onto the walls as soon as he can.  I did try to help paint, but my hands were screaming within minutes, and it wasn’t long after that that my back and hips were too.  I don’t think I could have designed a better partner through this.

Not much more of this though.  I have this nagging feeling, though not so strong as the one that told me she was a girl, that she will come early.  My Mom has decided that she needs to come on a Wednesday evening, or over Thanksgiving.  That way she can take off a little time from work to be here for it.  That would be nice.  Bunny’s Mom was going to be here right after she was born, but unfortunately she can’t get time off work.  I have other family here, so i won’t be hurting for help, but it would be really nice if my own Mom could make it.  This is kind of a big deal!  If she does come early, hopefully it’s not too early.  There are still a few things, like paining the bedroom, that need to be completed.  It shouldn’t take us long though.  We’re going shopping Friday or Saturday for the last few things we need to have around the house before she comes, then I will feel prepared.  The hospital bag is packed, her clothes are washed, and right now, this Mama to be is going to bed!

“My vagina feels like it’s being split in two by Zeus’s lightning bolt!” And other interesting facts about pregnancy.


All names have been changed to protect the guilty.

Any resemblance to situations that may have occured in real life is purely uncoincedental.

In the world of pregnancy, life is not gum drops and rainbows, this shit is real folks.

You might need a towel…

I am a member of a very special group of women.  We all happen to be due in or close to December 2011.  We’re also all a little nutty.  If you thought that women can’t bring themselves to discuss the dirty, the stinky, and the raunchy, let me tell you, you were wrong!  Maybe it takes having something pretty big in common, like being pregnant together, to bring out the ick factor in a bunch of girls, but social norms be damned, nothing is sacred anymore.  Be prepared, if you thought pregnant women were all glowy and beautiful shitting glitter you are about to learn otherwise.  The books don’t cover everything.

Let’s get right in there, no reason to put it off and uh… candy coat it.  Constipation!  Everyone has suffered it at some point, no use denying it.  We just don’t talk about it.  Who really cares or wants to hear about other people’s poo business anyway?!  Well, pregnant women tend to enjoy discussing this.  We talk all things poo all the time.  Who is, and who isn’t doing it, when where and how frequently.  There may be a case for having us committed, or at least put on a farm where we can all giggle and eat and poo to our hearts content.

  • Ooohh! I can’t poo!!! What I would do for a good poo!!! – Lady Banger
  • I didn’t expect constipation and hemorrhoids to be this bad. – Tonya Fuzzynuts
  • I have hemorrhoids that look like a cluster of tiny grapes!! AAAKK – Lady Banger
  • I wish I had a plug…I swear I dont poo for five days then im in there 24 times a day… – Exotica Dangler

Oh, and it’s not just poo…

  • I seriously just laughed so hard I peed a little! – Kara Stroker
  • They are making me pee in a hat and keep it in my fridge! – Kara Lottatang
  • omg I have peed and sneezed myself at the same time FIVE TIMES TODAY!! I HAVE PEE RUNNING DOWN MY LEG!! I PEED IN THE GROCEREY STORE MEAT ISLE!! – Lady Banger
  • I sneeze and I pee myself, I cough and I pee myself, I laugh and I pee myself, I get kicked repeatedly from the inside, and I pee myself.  I now need depends – Exotica Dangler
  • This summer, my crotch was wet for 3 months. I peed my pants constantly and it was so hot that even when I didn’t pee my pants it looked like I did because of sweat. – Barbie Cucumber
  • Honest, I’ve worn a pad since yesterday constantly because of the constant hard coughing. IT’S AWFUL!! I’m constantly dribbling myself! – Lady Banger
  • Sometimes, when I manage not to pee myself, I announce it with fanfare – Kara Lottatang
And wouldn’t you know it, it’s not just pee either.
  • Ok we won’t go into that one…  it’s slimy and sticky and, no I lied, let’s go
  • So there is this white slimey stuff in my underpants… – Kara Lottatang
Your boobs may leak and drip, along with just about everything else that it able to.  Sleep is so hard to come by for me that when I do sleep my body goes into like, sleep starvation mode.  I sleep so deeply that I drool everywhere!  It wakes me up and I have to wipe my face and turn my pillow!  The sneezes, oh the sneezes.  I haven’t sneezed this much in my life.  I started to worry that I may be allergic to Little Miss.  Pregnant women are still women though.  We still care about how we look, and really would like to carry on the way we always have.  Sometimes though, that is simply not an option…
  • Oh! And varicose veins that look like road maps! – Cara Darkholer
  • And not being able to see while shaving the honey pot! 😀 – Cara Darkholer
  • Can you come over and help me groom my vajayjay? I need a real friend to help me, someone honest with a steady hand who won’t lop off my labia! – Lady Banger
  • I made up a magical world and drew its road map in my stretch marks – Exotica Dangler
  • AND THE ZITS!!!! On all FOUR cheeks!!!! – Cara Darkholer
  • and the horrible bleching and gas that comes… – Tonya Fuzzynuts
  • Don’t forget the gas! Farting in public is no longer embarrassing! – Kara Stroker
  • OMG and the big huge dark nipples! Does anyone ELSE have little tiny bumps all over their nipples?! – Kara Lottatang
  • oh and im so emotional that when my boyfriend tries to pick off what he thinks is one of his stray hairs from my chin and it ends up being ATTACHED i start bawling, and then i make myself cough, and then i throw up and pee at the same time! – Exotica Dangler
  • I’ve managed to sneak away from the cursed zit monster. I however had some weird bump on my thigh that looked like it wanted to pop but never did. – Lady Banger
  • my nipples look like the freaking Andes mountains its very strange…dark, bumpy… (slightly hairy from time to time) – Exotica Dangler
  • I go to bed early so I have time alone to fart. It used to be so i would have time alone for me time, but now I fart instead – Kara Lottatang
Yes, pregnancy is a beautiful thing.  It is also a painful thing, as if the title to this post didn’t tell you that already.
  • And breaking ribs from octopus kicks! – Cara Darkholer
  • I never expected it to feel like my pelvic bone was gonna pop in half. – Kara Slapalot
  • Pelvic pain is excruciating. – Barbie Cucumber
  •  I did not expect the extreme heartburn – Kinky Sticky
  • The pelvic pain and all this icky discharge. It really wasn’t like this the first time – Sandy Slamm
Yes, we are in pain.  Expect pain, and plenty of it.  You will even learn what is tolerable pain and what you need to question.  As I sit here my back is screaming.  I’m not doing anything different, I sit up straight, don’t lean back in my chair, always have, but right now it hurts.  When you take your bra off at the end of the day it’s like unwrapping a bandage that was on too tight.  Ow.  Shoes and socks can do the same thing.  Invest in a pair of sneakers that are half a size bigger, and some really forgiving socks.  You don’t want tight socks.  My hands hurt so bad I couldn’t even clamp the can opener onto my jar of chili earlier tonight.  This is mostly from the carpal tunnel.  I had it before I got pregnant so it has been especially bad for me.  Yesterday I questioned it.  I bent over to pick something up and felt this burning ripping sensation right below my breast bone.  It seemed to radiate out to both sides and wrap around my belly.  It was awful.  I left Bunny to finish cleaning the kitchen and I went to sit for a while.  It still aches, like a bruise, but the doctor reassured me that it was normal.  He said it’s most likely because my bowel is so pushed up in my body that I probably just pinched something when I bent over.  No biggie.  These kinds of one time pains happen from time to time.  Usually it’s nothing to worry about though.
I am making this all sound pretty dreadful, if rather amusing.  It’s not all bad I swear!  Not very many people want to talk about pregnant sex.  I don’t know why not, it can be pretty fantastic!  There are always some women whose  men who are freaked out by the concept, and there are some women who don’t want it, or find it too painful.  For the women who fall into those categories, get a BOB.  This stands for Battery Operated Boyfriend.  Trust me, you will appreciate this bit of advice.
  • Never before has a sex dream made me orgasm… I could stay pregnant forever if it didn’t make me so miserable! – Kara Lottatang
  • ME TOO! It’s weird! Im alllllways in the mood. Hubby told me, “Im not a sex tool!” – Jenna Stroker
  • And this is the first pregnancy I got 2nd trimester horny-ness. – Barbie Cucumber
The dreams can really get going too, and not just the sex dreams.  You will dream about baby, about ex boyfriends, about your significant other cheating.  All kinds of things.  Don’t think too much about it, they are dreams, they aren’t real.  Dreaming about your ex can simply mean that you’re wondering if you are still attractive, and dreaming about your loved one cheating is as simple as a fear of taking a huge life step alone.  It doesn’t mean it’s happening, just like the million miscarriage dreams you will have mean you are going to miscarry.  Know what else these crazy vivid pregnant dreams mean?  YOU’RE SLEEPING!  Relish it, it won’t last.  They like to say ‘sleep now while you have the chance!’ I say sleep whenever you have the chance.  If you aren’t doing it yet you will soon be waking up a million times a night to pee, roll over, and maybe even check your blood sugar.
I could go on forever about the real things to look forward to during pregnancy, that no one will tell you, but you’ll get it all figured out.  Every one of us is different any way.  You will probably have to deal with constipation, hemorrhoids, peeing on yourself, weird pains, and crazy dreams.  If you’re lucky you will have a really fantastic group of ladies to talk about it all with.  There is no reason to be shy, we’re all either dealing with it, going to deal with it, or have dealt with it.  If you need to pee your pants, it’s nice to have someone there to lend you a depends.

How a tiny body taught me how to embrace my own body


This post is part of the 2011 Love Your Body Day Blog Carnival

This is how I came to appreciate, and yes, even love, my body.

As I lay in bed trying to brain storm ideas for a blog post about loving my body it occurs to me that my body is trying to prevent me from writing.  Laying on my belly over a pillow is my preferred posture for writing in bed, but tonight I am not the only one who gets a vote.  As a matter of fact my idea to lay on my belly has been completely vetoed.  I don’t even get to argue my case, not that my opposition would know what I was babbling about anyway.  And while we may agree on very little outside of caramel apple milkshakes from Steak and Shake, it is my opposition that has taught me to love my body.

Alice at 32 weeks.

Meet the opposition, Alice.  This was taken when she was about 32 weeks gestation.  She is due December 6, 2011. I marvel at her every time I look at one of these pictures.  Can that be real?  Is she really inside me?  We found out about her in mid march, while we were trying to prepare our house to be lived in.  I’d had a feeling for a couple of days…  Let me rephrase that, I had known, for certain, for a couple of days, I just didn’t know how to bring it up to my husband.  I knew he wouldn’t be angry, but he’d be stressed.  Of course he was also really excited, so the rest didn’t really matter.

I don’t really know what prompted it, but I dove head first into learning anything and everything I could about pregnancy and birth.  I felt like I was very hands off during the process, and little things like hearing her heartbeat made me bubble over.  The first time I heard it I started giggling.  My body did that without me knowing anything was even going on.  How cool is that?!  I just had to know more.  I can hardly breath right now, but that is because my body is built to shift it’s contents, which are already in rather tightly, to make room for another person.  Every ache and every pain is a reminder of what is going on.

I was hot, they were intimidated!

One of the first pains I felt was in my hips and pubic bone.  I asked people online and the only real response I got was ‘Oh, that’s lightning crotch.’  Cute, but, what is it?  To the internet!  Pubis Symphsis Dysfunction o_o  Woah, my body was changing shape, moving my bones around, to accommodate this little thing growing inside me.  I didn’t know it could do that.  I was becoming impressed with my body.

Now I know that not only can my body work, without my conscious assistance, to create this little wiggler that beats on me day and night, she needs very little to survive that my body can’t provide.  I mean really, if it was socially acceptable to tuck a naked baby, sans diaper, in my shirt and tie her there, she would be just fine.  As her mother I have the power to completely regulate her body temperature.  I can warm and cool her.  I have the power to feed her for a good long time!

Not only can I feed her with the most perfect food available for her, made by my body, it will keep her pretty healthy.  Sure kids can still get sick, but my breast milk will provide her with the antibodies that my body can tell she needs.  I can put a drop in her eye or ear to help ward off infection.  My milk will assist her in the final development her little body needs such as helping her large intestine mature.  This in turn helps to prevent her from developing ulcerative colitis or necrotizing enterocolitis.  It can help prevent her from being obese later in life, she will be less likely to develop breast cancer (and so will I), not to mention it will save me a fortune.

I always knew that having a baby was a pretty magical process.  You hear that everywhere.  I had no idea just how magical it was though.  Yea, mammals produce milk to feed their young.  It freaked me out, and why would I need to do it with formula on the market.  Holy crap I know why now!  My body has basically devoted all it’s time to making sure it is prepared to do everything the baby needs, and do it with serious flair.  How could I not be in absolute awe of all of that?  It doesn’t matter what I look like, how tall I am, or what I weigh, my body still has this power.  No fashion magazine can take that away from me, although sometimes it seems like they try.

33 weeks

I have had body issues all of my life.  I think most women can say that.  Even in middle school, as a size 6 and a swimmer I thought I was massive.  I was always a happy kid, but I never thought I was attractive, and that seemed to me to be rather important.  I didn’t think unattractive women got married to great guys (such as the one I am married to) it didn’t occur to me that I had plenty of boys wanting to date me.  I didn’t really even believe it when people told me about guys who were interested in me, I just went on my way, ignoring them.  No

one ever asked me to a dance, I took this as a sign that there was something wrong with me.  I recently found some of those old photos, I am pretty sure there was nothing wrong with me!

I never had much positive input on my appearance, at least none that I believed.  I knew what I wanted to look like, and I didn’t look like that.  It didn’t help matters that I am not quite 5′ 11″.  I also had a few people that were ready and willing to let me know that I was, in fact, sub par.  Of course I believed them.  They agreed with the conclusion I had come to on my own!  I had chubby cheeks, and flabby thighs.  My belly was flat, but not toned, and my arms were huge!  Ok, not so huge, but I wasn’t an athlete, and as such I didn’t look like one.  Obviously this was a shortcoming.  Right…

Well, I know better now.  I was comparing myself to the exception, not the rule.  If I may steal an analogy from He’s Just Not That Into You.  I did find an amazing wonderful fantastic man, and somehow convinced him that he should marry me.  He thinks I am beautiful, so who else really matters?  Well, me of course, but I am starting to align myself more with his opinions.  Now that I think I am worthy of the work it will take to get myself fit and healthy, it’s a lot easier to do it.  I have found something pretty amazing about my body, and I am a happier person for it.  I don’t have to constantly worry about my appearance not being socially acceptable.  I simply no longer care about what other people think.

People responded to this blog fair with claims that what we look like doesn’t matter, we should be promoting loving who we are on the inside.  Well, that’s really easy to say, but it’s not so easy to put into practice.  It also makes absolutely no sense.  Who you are and what you look like are not separate entities.  What you look like can play a pretty big role in shaping who you are.  So you may find yourself ugly, and not consider that a bad thing, but that doesn’t mean the outside world agrees that it’s ok.  People will still treat you differently, even if you don’t think they do, and that will lend a hand to shaping who you are.  To tell a little girl to disregard all outside influences, that what she looks like does not matter in the long run, and to love who she is on the inside is a really nice sentiment.  It’s just not very realistic.  She will want to look a certain way, she will see fashion models, she will have someone make fun of her for some trivial little thing that they think is a flaw.  We live in a world where young girls are harassed both for having and for not having breasts.  Seriously?  You want to tell a girl to get over that and pretend like it’s nothing just because what’s on the inside is more important?  Body image is something that has to be taken seriously, we all have a body, and we all have opinions on what it looks like.  Saying that you don’t care, that you know you’re ugly, does not exempt you from this.  In stating that you stated your opinion.  Just because you have learned how to embrace it doesn’t mean it goes away.  A 14 year old girl that is going into a new school as a freshman and has to wear a swim suit to gym class is not going to embrace her perceived shortcomings.  Someone has to be there to tell her she is beautiful, not to worry.

What’s all this about barefoot?


Ladies combat boots.

Every girl needs red heels.

For the moment at least, I have given up on wearing anything with a heel.  Basically I have given up on wearing anything that isn’t my sneakers, or my gel sole flip flops.  Well ok, I do wear my slippers from time to time, but even those are a big snug and hard to pull on right now!!! So I guess this is something I have had to give up, that I miss.  Oh boy do I miss it.  I went out for my birthday in mid July, and I wore a pair of heels.  I had to, I can’t wear palazzo pants with flats, I just can’t.  I drove to the restaurant barefoot, and drove home the same way.  I would do it again too!  Well…  I like to think I would.

Just a week or so ago I thought I would wear my favorite pair of ankle boots from last fall.  I wore these boots EVERYWHERE last year.  I could walk in them all day long.  I think the thing about them was that they have a solid rubber heel.  I never realized what kind of a difference a rubber heel would make.  I got them on just fine, they were a little snug.  I took a step though, and I about went down.  I wouldn’t be wearing these shoes again for a while…

These boots were made for shopping!

I know it’s not considered safe to wear heels while you are pregnant.  Your center of balance is all KINDS of screwy,and my balance was never great tobegin with.  It took me a while to accept this, and honestly I didn’t stop wearing my beloved darlings until was about 3 months along.  That was when they started to feel snug, and I started to notice that my normally abysmal balance was getting worse. I guess to be honest I have to say that wasn’t exactly when I completely stopped wearing heels.  I still had a couple pretty important dates ahead of me, and there was no keeping my feet in flats for them.

The bachelorette party.

My wedding was June 25th.  I was just a couple weeks shy of 5 months pregnant at that point.  I knew it would be hard, but I already had the shoes!  I had bent over backwards for months looking for the perfect wedding shoes.  I knew that I would need at least two pairs.  One pair for the wedding itself, and one for the

The Wedding.

rehearsal dinner.  By the time I found out that I was pregnant I already had both of those pairs purchased,

plus one more pair.  I decides to get a pair of pink glittery Toms shoes to wear to my reception.  I thought it would be cute.  Well, when i found out I was pregnant my reception shoes, and their 5 inch heel, were an absolute bust.  I would NEVER consider returning them however.  Luckily my cousin and maid of honor wanted to do a little theme for my bachelorette party.  Jeans, cute tops, and the fanciest shoes we own!  I figured 5 inch heels would be safe, especially with me not drinking, and my pink bordellos got to be worn.

The day of the wedding my shoes were tolerable.  My actual wedding shoes just had one strap over the toe, and a 1 3/4 inch heel.  Easy peasy.  I made it through the ceremony and all that without having to take my shoes off, I was so proud.  As soon as we got back to the house I kicked those puppies off (and gently placed them back in their tissue paper lined box) and went for the Toms.  Egads, they wouldn’t go on!  My instep was too swollen!  I wore them long enough to get a few pictures, and then switched them out for my flip flops.  I regretted it the next day, but I was able to dance all night!  That brings me to the jewel of my collection.

A mile in Paris's shoes...

Because the pink bordellos were not usable for my rehearsal dinner I had to find something else.  I had had my eye on a pair of Paris Hilton heels that absolutely nobody could keep in stock.  I thought that her signature bright pink sole would be an affordable replacement to Louboutin’s signature red one.  Everybody that saw these shoes instantly fell in love with them.  When I received them I was already almost 4 months pregnant, and my feet were definitely showing it.  These however, unlike many of my shoes, are real leather.  Which means they stretch.  I spent many house laying on my couch with my feet kicked up sporting jams and these shoes.  By the time the rehearsal rolled around there were tolerable.  They were tight, but they were tolerable.  I made it through the rehearsal and dinner without incident.  I did have to hold onto Hubby Bunny walking across the ceramic tile to my table, but that is acceptable.

The old...

and the new!

My wedding was three months ago now, I have not worn heels since.  I bought a pair.  I love ankle boots in the fall, and when a pair shows up on the Kohl’s rack in the middle of summer,marked down, and in my size, I have to have it.  Even if they do look an awful lot like last year’s…  Well, they are the same color any way.  Last year’s pair has almost a 5 inch heel, and a very narrow elegant heel.  The ones I just bought, and won’t get to wear until next fall, are more of the every day hiking boot look alike I wear, well used to wear, all the time.

I miss my shoes, when it comes to lifestyle changes for baby, this is a big one.  We’ll have to see, but I know this isn’t a permanent change.  I’m not crying though, I am buying baby shoes!!!  My very first purchase for this baby was a pair of pink fuzzy shoes.  I didn’t even plan it out that way.  It wasn’t as though I walked into the baby section that day thinking I would pick up some baby shoes.  They happened to be on an end cap display, and they grabbed me by the elbow and demanded to go home with me.  This has happened to me a number of times by a number of pairs of shoes.  It didn’t frighten me, I calmly placed the tiny shoes in my cart, and home with me they went.  Honestly, I think i am ok with baby shoe shopping being more regular than Mommy shoe shopping, those pink fuzzies were only 5 bucks!  In the meantime I will stick to my sneakers and flip flops.  Now that you’re pregnant, what do you miss that used to be part of your day to day life?

Comfort rules!

To whom it may concern…


Recently in a pregnancy group I am in online I saw this letter posted.  I read it, and laughed to myself.  I personally have not really experienced much of this, but the girls I talk to have plenty of stories.  They tell these stories, and are obviously very hurt by what was said or done.  Then, at the end of every story, they all ask the same question, “What should I do?”  That seems like it should have the obvious answer “tell them they hurt you.”  Why is it not that easy?

It seems to me that as soon as a woman becomes pregnant many people don’t view her as her own person any more.  People take liberties with pregnant women that they would never take with any one else.  Try this, walk to up an obviously not pregnant woman and grab her belly, she will slap you.  However if you do the same to a pregnant woman she will sigh, obviously annoyed, and just walk away.  Why?  Well, the same reason when you comment on their weight to both of these same women.  The pregnant woman is already used to being regarded as public property, the non pregnant woman… not so much.

So why doesn’t the pregnant woman just simply say ‘hey don’t do that’?  Well, if she doesn’t know you she might.  She might even slap you just as fast as the other woman.  If you are someone she knows though, she won’t want to do that.  She wants you to be a part of her baby’s life and so won’t alienate you.  Unfortunately people take this as an opportunity to take advantage.  Personally I am glad to be one of those pregnant women whose family, both on my side and my husband’s, have more sense than that.  I have not been told to do this, don’t do that, what are you thinking, bla bla bla.  My husband and I both come from pretty forward thinking backgrounds.  It really makes me feel bad seeing women that I care about going through these kinds of shenanigans.

So, when this letter was posted, and all these girls laughed, i laughed along.  I have heard a story for pretty much every point here.  I did not, however, laugh at the comments some of the girls made following this post.  A few people reposted it on their Facebook pages as a note, but only a few.  More than a few said they wanted to but they were afraid it would offend somebody.  What?!  Here, read the letter…

Dear Non-Pregnant Person,

I hope you find these guidelines helpful in your interactions with pregnant women, as failing to follow them may result in serious physical harm. If you are thinking, surely she doesn’t mean me — then you should probably read this twice.

1. The appropriate response to a couple telling you they are having a baby is ‘Congratulations!’ with enthusiasm. Any other response makes you a jerk.

2. Through the wonders of science, we now know that babies are made ONLY by the mother and father — not grandparents. Unless the baby is in your uterus or you are the man that helped put it there, you may not ever use the phrase ‘my baby’.

3. On the same note, unless you made the baby as defined in 2, the pregnancy, birth, and raising of the child are not about you. You do not have input. No one wants to hear your opinion unless they ask for it…

4. The body of a pregnant woman should be treated the same as any other body. You would not randomly touch someone’s stomach if they were not pregnant, nor would you inquire into the condition of their uterus, cervix, or how they plan to use their breasts. Pregnancy does not remove all traces of privacy from a woman.

5. Likewise, no woman wants to hear comments on her weight…ever. A pregnant woman does not find it flattering that you think she is about is pop, must be having twins, looks swollen or has gained weight in her face. Telling her she looks too small only makes her worry that she is somehow starving her baby. Making such comments invite her to critique your physical appearance and you may not act offended. The only acceptable comment on appearance is ‘You look fabulous!’.

6. By the time we are 20-30 years old, most of us have picked up on the fact that the summer is hot. We are hot every summer when we are not pregnant. We don’t need you to point out that we will be miserably hot before the baby comes. Nor do we need to know how badly you will feel for us because we will be pregnant during the summer and how glad you are that YOU will not be pregnant this coming summer.

7. There is a reason that tickets to Labor & Delivery are not yet sold on Ticketmaster. Childbirth is actually not a public event. It may sound crazy, but some women really do not relish the idea of their mother, MIL, or a host of other family members seeing their bare butt and genitals. Also, some people simply feel like the birth of their child is a private and emotional moment to be shared only by the parents. You weren’t invited to be there when the baby was created, you probably won’t be invited to be there when it comes out either.

8. Like everything else in life, unless you receive an invitation, you are NOT invited. This includes doctor appointments, ultrasounds, labor, delivery, the hospital, and the parent’s home. You do not decide if you will be there for the birth or if you will move in with the new parents to ‘help out’. If your assistance is desired, rest assured that you will be asked for it.

9. If you are asked to help after the birth, this means you should clean up the house, help with cooking meals, and generally stay out of the way. Holding the baby more than the parents, interfering with breastfeeding and sleeping schedules, and making a woman who is still leaking fluid from multiple locations lift a finger in housework is not helping.

10. The only people entitled to time with the baby are the parents. Whether they choose to have you at the hospital for the birth or ask for you to wait three weeks to visit, appreciate that you are being given the privilege of seeing their child. Complaining or showing disappointment only encourages the parents to include you less.


All the Pregnant Women in the World

Yea, ok, so it’s kind of blunt and to the point.  If you really read it though, whoever wrote this is merely asking for the basic level of respect you would expect between two people.  Don’t touch me without invitation, don’t insult me, don’t tell me what to do or how to live, and don’t interfere with my day to day activities in a way that would be detrimental to me and my family.  I am not stupid, I am an adult, and I don’t want you hanging out in my bedroom.  Seems reasonable enough, so why are people worried about this letter being offensive?

The wording does edge on offensive, I will give it that.  While the line about Ticketmaster was cute, it is quite, well, snarky.  I appreciated that, but I can see how some people might not.  I think the main reason the pregnant women I am friend with think this would offend their friends and families is because of the level of entitlement people feel toward mother and baby.  I don’t know where this entitlement comes from, but it really shouldn’t be there.  These new parents, whether it be their first or fiftieth child, are excited and full of joy.  There are some things you may simply not want to share, such as the first day you bring your baby home from the hospital.  Just be respectful of the new parents.  Especially be considerate of the feelings of the pregnant woman.  When you see a letter like this, take it for what it is.  This is not an attempt to cut you off, this is a desperate plea to be treated with respect.

People are very quit to write a pregnant woman’s feelings off.  Oh, she is just hormonal right?  Wrong.  She isn’t just hormonal, you just told her she was fat!  If we all stop taking these ridiculous liberties with pregnant woman, maybe when someone has real, good, worthwhile advice to give they won’t have to feel like they aren’t allowed to approach an expectant mother and give her a few uplifting words and a little good advice.  This Mom over at Maternique had a few good words she would have liked to share, but was unable.

I admit, I thought people who offered all that advice were being know-it-alls. That is, until I found myself wanting to tell this woman she didn’t need even half that stuff she was buying.

I wanted to tell her that her favorite moments with baby would include none of the things on the list she was consulting. I wanted to tell her that what mattered more than who comes to the baby shower is who shows up for you after the baby actually arrives.

I wanted to tell her that this experience would, indeed, turn her world upside down, but she would love the view from there. I wanted to tell her this would be harder than she thought, but she was stronger than she could imagine.