Genetics, Schmemetics

Since Tommy was born, I've gotten a lot of compliments on how I look. Including one woman at a garage sale who hilariously said, Excuse me, is that YOUR baby!? And then went on to tell me that I looked way too good for having a tiny baby.

I am really happy with how I look. My stomach is definitely still squishy and has loose skin, so you won't be seeing this mama in a bikini any time soon. But can I brag and tell you that I was back in my pre-pregnancy jeans at three days postpartum? You can slap me if you want, (and I kind of love it when people threaten to beat me up) but let's talk about how I never got back into my pre-pregnancy jeans with Luke. That's right. I finally got sick of wearing maternity jeans at eight weeks PP and went and bought all new jeans.

So, you have to forgive me if I get a little crabby when I hear someone say that I look good, and that it must be genetics. It's really not genetics, and I want my props here. Is that wrong? Probably, but I'm going to go ahead and give myself a pat on the back for doing so well this time around.

When I was pregnant with Luke, I gained 35-45 pounds. I say 35-45 pounds because I was steady at 35, until the DAY I went into labor, and I shot up ten pounds. Thus, I think that last ten pounds is stupid fluid weight and shouldn't count. By my six week checkup, I'd lost all but ten pounds, which means that last ten pounds was probably not fluid weight but brownie weight. And then, it took a year and a half and a jogging habit to lose those last ten pounds. Naturally, I lost them about two seconds before I got pregnant with Tommy, but at least I lost it. So when I got pregnant with Tommy, I vowed to be a healthier pregnant woman.

And I was. I ate my fair share (okay, more than my fair share) of refined sugars, but I was active. Truthfully, I ate way more junk food this pregnancy than I did with Luke, but I hardly gained any weight. I jogged 2-3 miles a night and did a light step routine until I was 24 weeks. I stopped at 24 weeks because I started having Braxton-Hicks while running, and it just wasn't comfortable. Then I started using this workout, and from 24 weeks until the day I went into labor, I probably skipped a total of ten workouts. If that. It wasn't always easy and that DVD kicked my butt, but it felt good to be that active. I was proud of myself. I started out my pregnancy at 146 pounds and at my last checkup, I weighed 155 pounds. Tommy weighed 7 pounds, 11 ounces, so I was basically all baby. The day after he was born, I was back down to 146. This morning, I weighed 137 pounds, amazingly enough since I eat ALL THE TIME. I know that once Tommy stops nursing constantly, I will likely gain some of that weight back, but I'm okay with that.

Truthfully, I've never been the type of person who cared much about exercise. But I've learned how good it can make you feel, especially when you see results. I really believe that constant exercise helped me with a fast labor, and I also believe it helped with such a quick recovery. Now, you can totally start the slapping for being obnoxious "Whoo I lost all my pregnancy weight super fast" lady, but I needed to pat myself on the back just a little bit. And now I'm going to go reward my super awesome weight loss with a bowl of ice cream. What?

Fabulous Forty

This is the part of my pregnancy that is always such a catch-22. On one hand, I am so beyond thrilled to carry a baby inside of me until it is completely grown and healthy, because I realize the ability to do that makes me incredibly blessed and lucky. But on the other hand, I just want everyone to know that I think due dates are stupid. And also, that my babies apparently like it inside me so much that when my stupid due date approaches, they cling to my ribs for dear life and actually try to climb up into my throat. Shane said I should take it as a compliment because I apparently have a very comfy uterus. My midwife said that she loves me because I'm not whiny and begging for an induction like many of her full-term patients.

Mainly I'm happy, but I'm also a little annoyed because all of a sudden, I'm gaining more weight weekly than I have for the entire pregnancy. What is THAT all about? I had to cut my workouts down to 20 minutes because 40 minutes was just too much, but I've also been walking 3 miles a day. Therefore, I'm blaming it all on all the baby and fluid and not admitting that maybe my steady diet of sweets has finally caught up to me. I'm taking comfort in the fact that no one is going to tell me otherwise! Also, my back is killing me. I thought it hurt toward the end of my pregnancy with Luke, but I had no idea how badly it would hurt when 40 weeks pregnant AND chasing a 2 year old. In my next life, I'm marrying a masseuse!

I feel like maybe this post is whiny, so I want everyone to know that I'm seriously so content to let this baby choose his/her birth date, even though it might seem otherwise at times. I'm enjoying this time. Every day, we've gone for long walks, and I've napped with Luke. This morning, Luke and I made cookies, and he took his job of stirring the dry ingredients SO seriously. Tonight we're going blueberry picking, and then when we get home, I might work out. Or I might eat cookies.

And then, one of these days, I'll suddenly have a baby in my arms, and I'll be sitting here thinking, "Remember when I was pregnant? That went way too quickly!"

Balancing Act

At 38 weeks, I feel like my balance is precarious and not just because I've essentially got a bowling ball strapped to my stomach.
I have to go from the balance I've found in being a mom to one to being a mom to two. To be honest, it scares me just a bit. When Luke was a baby, we'd spend hours lying in bed, just staring at him. Now, we won't have those hours in bed because, well, we have Luke. And though that's great, I know it'll be different. Different good, though.
I'm transitioning from that balance of a working mom to a mom who has six months off of work and then has to go back to being a working mom. Likely kicking and screaming and not wanting to leave TWO kids, but knowing she has to do it. Again, I'll find that balance, but I worry about how hard it will be. Still, I'm going to enjoy it all, knowing that there will be days when both feet will be firmly on the ground, only to find that I wake the next morning reeling and holding on for dear life.

I'm at the stage where I see my midwife weekly now, which is great because I love my midwife, but not great because peeing in a cup has become the world's worst challenge (see: lack of balance). No further changes on ye olde cervical front, except that the baby's head is RIGHT there. Good job, baby.
I also met with my doula today who I love and adore and wish I could just call up to come over and give me back rubs and hugs without me having to be in labor.

As I'm waddling across the finish line, I should probably start asking for those baby guesses, huh? So, give it your best shot! What day will this one be born? Boy or girl? Weight?
To help you out a little, I went five days overdue with Luke. He weighed 9lbs, but I gained (gulp) 40 pounds with him. My official due date is July 16th. Anyone who guesses a date in AUGUST gets a punch in the face. Hard.

Beach Baby

Alternately titled: Beached Whale

Just kidding, I don't really feel like a beached whale. Okay, I kind of did with all the skinny girls in bikinis, but they suck anyway.

The water was cold, so for the first time in days, I felt cool and comfortable with my feet dug in the sand.


It's hard to believe I'm 37 weeks. I saw my midwife today, and I'm back down to just a ten pound weight gain because it is too freaking hot to eat anything other than strawberries and ice cream. And watermelon. Lots of watermelon! She is estimating that if I had this baby today, it'd weigh six pounds, but if I (more likely scenario) have this baby at 40ish weeks, it'll weigh in the lower 8 pound spectrum. She was spot on in estimating that Luke would weigh nine pounds, so I trust her mad weight estimating skillz. My GBS was negative, which means she has no problem with me laboring at home for as long as necessary. It's funny how different this baby is from Luke. When she used to feel for Luke's head during internal exams, she could bob it around without any protest from him. When she did with this baby today, it immediately planted both feet in my ribs like, What the hell are you doing!? Anyway, baby's head is at a -2, I'm 1cm and soft but not effaced. At 37 weeks with Luke, everything was still closed up tighter than Fort Knox, and believe it or not, his head never descended to a -2 until I was NINE CENTIMETERS. For those of you not versed with prego lingo, a -2 is the *highest* point of head engagement, so basically, I had one stubborn ass kid.
I feel excited, but I also feel so content to let this pregnancy stretch on to 40 weeks. I'm enjoying it, I really, truly am. My only complaint is the heat and the fact that I have yet another toothache, but the heat is obviously out of my control, and the toothache is the result of a root canal yesterday and should hopefully feel better in a few days.

And now that I've let you all know the state of my cervix, I'm going to go take a nap, even though I've only been awake for roughly 2.5 hours. I love summer!

Out And About

Do you remember how weeks and weeks ago, I wore this gray tank top and had only the slightest bit of a bump?

And now, at 36 weeks, I can just barely pull it down to cover my stomach that now seems like it can't possibly grow any further out. My skin is stretched as tight as a drum, and several times a day, I get little feet sticking out of me every which way.

I love it. I can't imagine how much bigger I'm going to get over the next four or so weeks, but I love it. I hit 12 pounds of weight gained, and even though I'm pouty to be over ten, I know half of that weight is baby... so really, I think I'm doing pretty well! I'm still working out, though I don't know how much longer I can keep up 40 minutes every night.

Today is June 16th. My due date is July 16th. I can't believe that by this time next month, I may have possibly already met the little one inside of me... or I may be getting very close to meeting him/her. The baby clothes are all washed. My hospital bag is packed. The only thing I have left to get together is the list of people for Shane to call after the baby is born. I can't believe the time between 13 weeks and 36 weeks went so quickly, but I can truthfully say that I've loved every single minute.

Single Handed

At this point in my pregnancy with Luke, I remember being all, WOOHOO I CAN COUNT THE NUMBER OF WEEKS ON ONE HAND. This time around, it's still exciting, but also, I'm kind of wishing I had another ten weeks left.

I love this pregnancy so much. I might look and feel like I swallowed a watermelon, but at this point with Luke, I'm pretty sure I felt like Jabba the Hutt. Winter pregnancies just aren't as cute because you have to bundle yourself up and put on shoes that aren't flip flops and that's just not fun! I remember both Shane and my midwife having to tie my shoes for me. (And yes, I know my pale whitey white legs look like I'm pregnant in the winter, but my summer vacation still has not yet started.) It helps that Steph has so sweetly passed on a million cute maternity clothes to me, making me feel a little less burned out with clothing at this point.
I'm starting my regimen of red raspberry leaf tea, acidophilus, and evening primrose oil. The amount of pills I take every night makes me feel like an 80 year old woman, but I'm hoping they help this baby to shoot out of me like a cannonball. Unlike the last baby I had who took 22 hours to slooooowly emerge from my body with a great deal of coaxing. He's totally worth it, but I wouldn't turn down a quicker labor this go round.

I have a to-do list that's about a mile long, but surely this sweet baby who has given me no new stretch marks and has only caused a ten pound weight gain will wait until that to-do list is finished, right?

Single Digits

I can't believe I'm in the single digits of weeks left. It seems like just yesterday it was Election Night, and I was drinking celebratory margaritas thinking I wasn't pregnant (celebrating the election, not celebrating being not pregnant), then two days later, I got a big flashing PREGNANT on the test. I thank my body for being tricky and giving me that one last night to enjoy a few drinks! And now here I am seeing the light at the end of the tunnel!


That dress is a size small and not a maternity dress. Even though I know it still fits only because it's Old Navy and also, mostly made of cotton and elastic, I still love it for fitting. LOVE.

p.s. Do you know what else I love? This jewelry I'm giving away. So go enter!

31 Fun

I can't believe I'm in the single digits of weeks left. It seems like just yesterday it was Election Night, and I was drinking celebratory margaritas thinking I wasn't pregnant (celebrating the election, not celebrating being not pregnant), then two days later, I got a big flashing PREGNANT on the test. I thank my body for being tricky and giving me that one last night to enjoy a few drinks! And now here I am seeing the light at the end of the tunnel!


That dress is a size small and not a maternity dress. Even though I know it still fits only because it's Old Navy and also, mostly made of cotton and elastic, I still love it for fitting. LOVE.

p.s. Do you know what else I love? This jewelry I'm giving away. So go enter!

29 Down...

11 to go!

Lest you think I'm throwing gang signs, that's my fabulous pose for 11. Oh, and lest you think my camera is the reason this photo is blurry, let me assure you that the blurriness is entirely a result of my inability to stand still.

Just for fun, here's another bump photo, in which I use my bump to assault Crooked Eyebrow. I love how Sarah looks all, Yeah, I'm going to pretend like I have no idea who these freaks are.

Although people keep telling me I'm tiny, I tend to think they're lying because I feel fairly giant. But I'm loving it. I've been seeing a chiropractor, and my sciatica is becoming so much more manageable. What's really great, though, is that at this time with Luke, I remember starting to get so scared about the end of pregnancy, about labor, about having a BABY. I don't have those fears this time. I know every labor is different, but I also know that I made it through 22 hours of labor without so much as an aspirin and loved every minute (well, almost). I know every baby is different, and I know that it will be different with a baby and a toddler, but I also know that I made it through Luke's infancy without dropping him (or ramming my hand through his soft spot which was my super big fear. I hate soft spots). Although soft spots still freak me out--and yes, I know that soft spots aren't really THAT soft--the rest of the fears are so much less this time, leaving me to just enjoy pregnancy. It's really rare that my brain ever shuts up and lets my enjoy something, so I'm grateful!

Seeing Double

This weekend, my bestie Leah (please go to her blog and say hi!) visited, and she mentioned that she thought I was smaller than with Luke. I've actually gained the exact same amount of weight so far, but I do feel smaller than I did with him. I'm not sure if it's that I'm carrying differently, or if it's because of the pregnancy workout DVD that kicks my butt HARD every night, or if it's all in my head, so I booted up my old desktop to snag a few photos of when I was 28 weeks pregnant with Luke.
For comparison, I even pulled out the same shirt I was wearing in these photos and tried to pose the same, but mostly I failed.

28 weeks with Luke


28 weeks pregnant with #2


I think the weight is definitely not going to my face as much this time (YAY), but past that, I am not sure. What do you think?
































And just to make this the most picture heavy post EVER, here is a photo of my mom when she 28 weeks pregnant with my older sisters!

Let me just go on the record as stating two things: I am so glad that there have been amazing advancements in the field of maternity clothes since the 70s, and I cannot believe my mom only gained seventeen pounds with TWINS (and she carried them to 38 weeks). Look at how tiny her arms were!

Rounding Third

As I'm nearing the third trimester (OMG IKR!?), I'm finding that I want to dress up less and less. I remember looking forward to getting into maternity clothes at first, but right about now, I'm ready to spend every day in yoga pants, a tank top, and flip flops. Unfortunately I think that would get me super fired, so I'm trying my best to keep dressing like a professional adult. But by the time June rolls around? All bets are off!


Today I have my gestational diabetes test. With Luke, I passed with flying colors, so I'm not too concerned. What DOES concern me is the thought of having to go all day without any sugar, not even a 100 calorie fudge brownie (or two). But here's a secret... you know how every pregnant woman in the world hates the glucose drink? I love Glucola. I love it so much that I would buy it if they sold it in the store. I would buy it and mix it with vanilla ice cream, and it would be flat sugary orange drink LOVEfest every day at my house.

Bump Day!

I wonder how many times I use the phrase "I'm lazy" in this blog? It's true, though. I'm totally lazy. Maybe not lazy, so much as that by the end of the day, I'm tired and looking for shortcuts. Yeah, we'll go with that, it sounds better.

So because I'm lazy, you're getting two bumpish shots, both taken from our mini-vacation. Trust me, you don't want to see me right now any way, because the chlorine has made my hair not so pretty. On the list for today is deep conditioning my hair. That is if I'm, you know, not too lazy to shower.




24 weeks! Two weeks ago, I could still comfortably jog for 30 minutes. Now I can't go three minutes before my body tells me to quit, so I'm happily toning it down a bit and getting ready for the transition from jogging to walking to waddling. ALSO, in that second picture? That's the first time I've worn shorts in five years.

Half Baked

Flashless 20 week belly shot taken for Beth's photo challenge, You Capture. This week's challenge was to capture something you love without using flash. And what do I love more than this belly and all it carries?

The Big 1-8

Today was pretty much made of fail, so I didn't get this picture taken until later this evening. But after dinner with friends (and a hilarious moment in which friend's three year old TOTALLY copped a feel), I'm feeling like I can suck it up and face 8th graders again tomorrow. And if that doesn't get me through, then the thoughts of a THREE DAY WEEKEND will.

18 weeks! Camera over face totally intentional due to a combination of factors that made me look grosser than gross.

Too Tired For A Terrific Title

I feel like I've popped in the last few days. It's hard to believe I'm 17 weeks already.

This pregnancy is flying by, and more and more lately, I'm realizing how unbelievably blessed I am to have this. Two very beautiful friends found out this week that the babies they'd wished and hoped and dreamed of were not to be. I want to cry and scream at the unfairness of it all, at the fact that as much as I want, I cannot fix it for them. I want to hug them and wave a wand to make it all go away, but I can't. But what I can do is treasure every single moment of this and realize how very, undeniably lucky I am to have what I have. I want to throw on the brakes and slow it down, just so I don't blink and suddenly it's July.

Rub Me The Right Way

I have a confession. When I was pregnant with Luke, I lied about something through my entire pregnancy. I lied about this something because it's basically the pregnant woman party line, and well, I didn't want to let my fellow fecund sisters down. But I don't think I can keep living a lie, so I hope this doesn't get me kicked out of the club. Are you ready for the truth? Can you HANDLE the truth?

I like having my belly touched. I like having it patted and rubbed and ahh'd over. When I was pregnant with Luke, I tried to hate it. I rolled my eyes when people would mention it like I hated it. But I didn't. I couldn't! And so the other day, when I got my first belly touch from the treasurer at work, I had to admit to myself that I really loved it. Granted, I've never had a stranger touch my belly. I can see how that would bug, but really, who likes to be touched by strangers--pregnant or not?

When friends and family touch my stomach, I know they do it out of love. I know they do it because they can't wait to hold this baby, and right now, touching my stomach is the closest they can get. I'm happy to share that with him, but that doesn't mean that I don't understand women who don't like the touching. So instead, if groping pregnant women is what you like, this one is open for business!

My Cupcake Bump

Today was a good day. I went to bed last night, ridiculously happy for a friend. I woke up this morning STILL ridiculously happy for that friend. Don't you love that? Today was pajama day at work, which meant that I got to wear my cupcake pajamas, complete with matching slippers. AND my students were taking the ACT until 11 this morning, so I had nothing to do until then. As such, my team and I ordered a calorie-laden breakfast from Schoop's. So not only did I get to hang out and do nothing in my pajamas, I got to hang out and do nothing in my pajamas while eating blueberry pancakes with whipped cream and a side of hash browns. Oh, it was GOOD.

I mostly failed at bump shots tonight because my camera batteries were dead. I had to use the webcam on my computer, which is decent... except for when you're moving while it's trying to take a photo. And because my favorite little cupcake decided he needed to be in the pictures, I was moving. A LOT.

You can't see my stomach at all, but I like this one.


16 weeks! 4 months. How the hell did that happen? I'm not a math teacher, but doesn't that make me almost halfway through this whole thing? Doesn't seem possible, but I'm feeling little flutters daily and loving it.

Bump Day

Since Wednesday is commonly known as Hump Day (which is what got me into this in the first place--oh yeah, I went there!), I thought I'd tweak it into Bump Day. With Luke, I was fairly consistent about taking belly pictures, and I want to be this time as well.

At 13 weeks, my stomach has suddenly popped onto the scene. I started showing early with Luke (early enough that my midwife did an ultrasound to make sure that I didn't have more than one hanging out in there). I don't feel big yet, not like I did with Luke, because I know how much bigger this thing is gonna get. And I can't wait! (Remind me of that statement in July when I'm all, GET OUTTTTTTTTTT, I FEEL LIKE JABBA THE HUTT!)

Full

To clarify yesterday's post, my quiet calm was not a photo of a gummy bear in a storm, but rather, a perfect little baby. A perfect little baby that just happens to be chillaxin' in my uterus RIGHT NOW.

I know! Can you believe it? Because I hardly can. I am 10 weeks and some odd change pregnant, and it still hasn't sunk in. Two positive pregnancy tests, one perfect heartbeat, and I still want to pinch myself.

Monday I told my midwife, "It's just as amazing the second time." And IT IS. Seeing the little baby with a flickering heartbeat? Amazing. Waiting to get bigger and lose this beer belly look? Amazing. Waiting for that endorphin rush after birth and the chance to hold a new baby against my skin? Amazing. Preparing to breastfeed a brand new baby? Amazing!

I am due July 16th. I'm a little disappointed that I won't make it BlogHer when it is SO CLOSE, but I'd rather have a baby than BlogHer, obviously! We are not finding out the sex. With Luke, I felt he was a boy the moment I had a positive test. This time? I just don't know. I keep waiting for that instinct, but it hasn't yet kicked in. At this point, planning a natural hospital birth with the same midwife and doula I used last time.

I can sum it all up in three words: I Can't WAIT.

A Quiet Calm

Lately I've felt enveloped by a sense of total peace. It's been wonderful. That's not that say that I'm not stressed and busy and rushed by the season, because I am. But more than that, much more than that, I'm so overwhelmed by how lucky I am. I can explain some of that feeling, but I can't explain how or why it's so strong right now. I suppose some things simply cannot be explained, so without looking for the explanation, I will just be greatly that I'm filled with such a force now.

At night, I sit in the glow of the Christmas tree lights, and I can't imagine being anywhere but here. I can't imagine being anyone other than myself. There are things I'd love to change, but they're superficial. Everything that really matters, everything at the core and heart of life, I would not change for the world.

In this holiday season, it is my wish for all of you that you can find your sense of peace, your quiet calm, and your own understanding of how gloriously lucky you are.


This is my quiet calm.