Eleven Weeks and Moving

Up until just a few days ago I didn't look pregnant. My friends can tell that I've been getting bigger since about eight weeks, but people who don't know I'm expecting probably just think I've been eating too many Pringles. Well, here I am at eleven weeks and I now have a definite bump. I suspected I would show early because I have a short torso; there's not anywhere for my belly to go but out. I was right, and here's the proof.



I'm going to be scarce for the next week or so because we're moving to be closer to Eric's work. It will be a good change, but I'm not looking forward to the packing/loading up/moving process (who does?) Especially since my nausea is getting worse every day. I barely have the energy to do a load of laundry so I have no idea how I'm going to pack all of our belongings. I'll post about it soon, but it might take me a while to do it with humor.

Dorks Unite!

This morning as I was getting dressed, I had a sudden urge to get out some of my old CDs that I hadn't listened to in years. I ended up playing They Might Be Giants albums and smiling happily at all the memories, the oh so dorky memories the songs brought back to me.

In high school I was not what you would call "cool". I wasn't a cheerleader, I wasn't athletic, I didn't drive an expensive car, I didn't get invited to the popular kids' parties. And yet if I could do it over again, I wouldn't change a single thing. I don't know many people who would say that high school was one of the happiest times of their lives, but for me it really was. We had an excellent honors program at my school and I loved learning. I liked being one of the smart kids. I was comfortable with who I was and felt very little pressure to measure up to some vague standard of coolness. I had lots of friends who liked me for me and not for what I wore (this is glaringly obvious when I look at photos from that time - yikes!) And I did what I enjoyed, regardless of what other people thought about it. I was an officer in the History Club, advertising manager of the yearbook, vice president of the French Club, and lead soprano in the school choir. I was busy, tired, and very fulfilled. I hope my kids have such a good time when they're that age.

So back to They Might Be Giants memories. My best friend Andrea and I were big fans and in eighth grade we even made clever music videos of the songs "Dinner Bell" and "Fingertips" from the Apollo 18 album (I sincerely hope that videotape never, ever falls into the wrong hands.) I identified with the quirky weirdness and the tongue-in-cheek intellectualism of their songs. Who wouldn't love a song that goes Blue canary in the outlet by the lightswitch who watches over you Make a little birdhouse in your soul Not to put too fine a point on it Say I'm the only bee in your bonnet Make a little birdhouse in your soul. I mean, come on people, that's just happy stuff! Let the nerds be happy!

I haven't kept up with TMBG since high school, and I recently learned that they released a children's album a few years ago entitled No! I am definitely buying it for my child. With songs called "Robot Parade" and "I'm Not Your Broom" it's got to be good. (I've always thought their songs had a silly quality that would make them appeal to kids, but the lyrics aren't always kid friendly, for example "I Palindrome I": Someday mother will die and I'll get the money / Mom leans down and says "My sentiments exactly, you son of a bitch.") I've seen firsthand how educational TMBG songs can be. They did a cover of a song from the 1950's called "Why Does The Sun Shine?" I remember my little sisters Tori and Tanne (then ages 8 and 3) finding the tape and listening to it over and over again. They both had every word memorized. It's pretty impressive to hear a 3 year old sing, "The sun is a mass of incandescent gas, a gigantic nuclear furnace Where hydrogen is built into helium at a temperature of millions of degrees."

So I guess my whole point is, I'm glad I was a dork in high school, I'm glad I haven't lost that dorkiness, and I hope my kids are dorks too, if it makes them as happy as it's made me.

Trying to be Normal

Yesterday I had my first appointment at my OB/Midwives office. It was my first step in transitioning from IVF patient to regular pregnant person, and I was more than a bit disoriented by the whole thing. I realized how accustomed I had become to my RE's posh office with leather furniture, expensive artwork, great magazines, a cappuccino bar, and free samples everywhere. I guess because their patients are all paying thousands of dollars out of pocket they feel like they have to present a luxurious day-spa like environment. Often I would get so comfortable in the waiting room with my feet up in a reclining chair that I would forget I was about to have metal objects stuck in my nether regions, feeling instead that it was about time for my facial and seaweed wrap. So by comparison my new OB's practice looks extremely ghetto. Where were the sugar cookies on the table? Why didn't the receptionists and nurses all know me by name? Did they really expect me to wait on an ugly orange tweed chair that had probably been there since 1968?

Once I met the midwife, Karen, I felt better. She was extremely nice and seemed almost as excited about my pregnancy as I am. The more I learn about this practice the more I like it. There are 5 doctors and 8 certified nurse midwives. It's a collaborative practice so I'll see each doctor and each midwife at some point during this pregnancy. When I go into labor there will be a doctor and a midwife at the hospital. The midwives deliver, or as they say, "catch" 75% of the babies born in the practice; the doctor is there the whole time, but he only assists in the labor if there is a complication. The midwife is there with you the whole time you are in labor, as opposed to nurses popping in and out to check on you every once in a while and a doctor coming in at the very end to deliver. I feel good about having the support of a midwife, but also having the extra comfort of having doctors involved because of my Factor V Leiden (a gene that contributes to excessive blood clotting and miscarriage). The doctors will also be consulting with a perinatologist to make sure I'm being treated correctly during pregnancy, labor and delivery.

At this first appointment they checked all the basic things, urine, cervical cultures, breast exam, and fundal height. I didn't need to have bloodwork done because I had so much done at the RE. The thing that freaks me out is that my next appointment isn't for four weeks. I'm accustomed to going in at least once a week. What am I going to do with all this extra time?

Blah

(Warning: Pregnancy symptom complaints ahead. If you are like me and have no sympathy for whining pregnant people, skip this one.)

I've been a slacker about posting lately, which is fitting because I've become a slacker in pretty much every area of my life. This pregnancy is draining me of every ounce of energy I have. It seems like the most I can do these days is drag myself out of bed, do my shots, watch daytime TV, and occasionally sluggishly do a basket of laundry. I'm having severe nausea that lasts all day and all night. The only time I feel relief is right after I eat, and half an hour later the nausea is back. So I have to spend all day trying to eat when eating is the last thing I want to do. I haven't thrown up at all, despite a few gagging incidents, but man oh man I wish I could. See, I don't really mind throwing up. For me, the worst thing is the feeling right before you throw up, and I already have that all the time. Barfing once or twice would be a relief.

On to more pleasant topics. I had my last RE appointment with Dr. B yesterday. The ultrasounds keep getting more and more amazing each time. The baby was all curled up in this one and wiggling around like crazy. We could see the heartbeat (130 bpm) and body parts are becoming easier to identify. Al made the nurse laugh by exclaiming, "Man, that kid is all noggin!" Dr. B pronounced me officially graduated from fertility treatments, gave me my records to take to my midwife appointment tomorrow, and made me promise to bring the baby in after it's born so she can hold it. So on to the OB/midwives practice. I'm excited to be a normal pregnant patient rather than a "special case", but I'll miss the weekly ultrasounds.