Pregnancy

December 12, 2016

You’ve Got to Know When to Hold ‘Em

One of the things I was looking forward to least about being pregnant (other than nausea, cramps, backaches, gas, weight gain, etc.) was the attention. Once you get to a certain point, there ain’t no hiding the fact that you’re expecting your little bundle of joy. And everyone – the cashier at Aldi, the woman matching you for foundation, the guy at work who wears Cosby sweaters – seems to think it’s their business. I didn’t mind the questions about how I was feeling or whether it was a boy or a girl. I was lucky enough not to have a lot of strangers touching my stomach (due to my RBF and radiating awkwardness), but the questions or comments that irked me were the more personal ones.

The first question a lot of women would ask me while I was pregnant was: “When are you due? You’re so tiny!” This was usually followed with “Are you going to breastfeed?” Ugh, lady.

The latter always struck me as a strangely personal question to ask someone you hardly know. “Are you planning to let your child suckle at your teat?” “When the baby cries, will you unwrap your boob and shove it in that guy’s mouth?” I’m not aware of another time when people think it’s OK to ask you such intimate questions regarding your own body. I often felt that I should respond with something along the lines of “I’m not sure. As long as we’re talking about breasts, what’s your bra size, anyway? I’ve been wondering.”

The former? Well, I got a lot of comments about my size toward the end. I was small. I was still so small compared to other women I saw on the street and in my doctor’s office. Yes, it was my first baby and that often makes a difference. But I was also measuring small at my appointments and I wasn’t getting any bigger. I wasn’t thanking the Flying Spaghetti Monster for this good fortune, I was worried. I was worried that the baby wasn’t growing as fast as he should be. I was worried that I wasn’t eating properly or hadn’t done something right along the way. I was worried that something was actually wrong. I was worried because moms worry. So no, my “luck” at being small wasn’t at the top of my list and being reminded of it multiple times per day was actually kind of rough.

My doctor assured me that there was likely nothing wrong, but we’d “keep an eye on it.” Outside of an actual diagnosis of an issue, there are few things more terrifying for someone as anxious as I am to hear than “keep an eye on it.” I’ll keep both eyes on it, sir. I will keep every eye I have inside me on it until the issue resolves. Hell, I will grow additional eyes wherever I need to as long as this all works out OK.

It did. I birthed a healthy baby boy in October who was a perfectly healthy weight and size. But not every family is so lucky… and that anxiety will stay with me. I was never one to ask super personal questions of pregnant ladies before due to (let’s be honest) general disinterest, but my own experience has made me think long and hard about questions we ask of a lot of people. Pregnancy has a whole lot of scary shit that comes with it that I hadn’t a clue about until I went through it myself. The person whose weight you’re commenting on might have a health condition that either causes them to gain or keeps from losing weight. They might have an emotional issue they’re working through. Or they might just be fluffy and eff you for having a problem with it. Maybe someone doesn’t come out as often as you’d like because they have depression or anxiety and every day is a battle.

And they might not tell you any of this when you offer your helpful advice. Like me, they’ll politely say “Thank you” and continue their internal monologue. Unless you want to tell someone they look fabulous, radiant, and/or their makeup is on point that day, keep it to your damn self. You just never know.

What’s the oddest thing a stranger has asked you? How did you react? Am I way off base here and a woman’s pregnant belly belongs to all? Thoughts?

July 21, 2016

Five Pregnancy “Rules” I’m Breaking

Time has passed incredibly fast. I’m now nearing my third trimester and things have been… fine. Almost too fine. Almost too easy? I don’t know. I am a worrier by nature. It is what I do best, so this pregnancy has pushed my normal level of anxiety to 11.

It seems like there is always something that I’m not supposed to be doing or that I’m not doing enough of. And seriously? I have 13 weeks left and there’s some crap that I’m just not willing to do anymore.

1. Use different makeup

OK. I read some stuff about switching to “natural” makeup while pregnant because of parabens and chemicals and all sorts of boogeymen inside my foundation. I switched from my trusty MAC Matchmaster to Tarte’s BB foundation because it was the only thing I could find that made me look normal. My skin proceeded to freak out for about 8 weeks. This could have been due to pregnancy hormones, in fact it almost certainly was partly attributable to that. The rest? I can chalk that up to a foundation that made me break out. So I switched back to my old routine. I still get blemishes now and again but not like before. Plus, the color wasn’t a great match. We can do better.

2. Not eat peanut butter or veggie burgers

These two items were a staple of my pre-pregnancy diet. I get not eating peanut butter because you’re afraid of food poisoning (one of my fears), but I read somewhere that eating peanut butter during pregnancy can cause a peanut allergy in your little one. So I kinda panicked and switched to almond butter (sad trombone). When I asked my doctor about it, she had never heard of the concern and said she often recommends women eat peanut butter for energy at the hospital. She’s also a vegetarian and totally poo-poo’d the no veggie burger thing. Moderation is key and almond butter sort of sucks.

3. Worry about my weight

Real talk: I have already gained 20 pounds since I got pregnant. And that’s fine. I started out slightly underweight and it will be fine if I gain a bit more. I bought a used treadmill a couple of weeks ago that I walk on a few times a week in 15 minute increments. If I start getting into the over-35 pounds territory, then I’ll worry about it. Until then, eating healthy most of the time and getting some exercise is fine. I can worry about the weight after I have a healthy baby in my (chubbier) arms.

4. Avoid the salon

I haven’t gotten my highlights touched up since October. I was planning to do it in December and it just never happened, then baby came along. I asked my stylist about getting things touched up in April but she said she thought it was growing out really well and I could probably get away with not updating for a while. I think the time has come. I’m starting to get a more solid line around my head and it’s not a cute look. The medical advice is solidly on my side on this one. Time to make an appointment – Mama needs to look good for the baby shower.

5. Be disappointed when I don’t fit into pre-pregnancy clothes

I know this isn’t a rule but it’s really about body acceptance and I’m still working on this one. I put on a button-up dress yesterday (it used to be big on me) which my husband assured me looked fine but which I was pretty sure I’d hulk out of by the end of the day (baby tends to get a bit larger by suppertime). I put on three more dresses before I found one that worked. I know I shouldn’t expect to still be able to fit into things but it can be tough to accept a new shape, especially when I may never see my old shape again. I’m trying my hardest to brush it off. I’m creating life! It shouldn’t matter if I still fit into my jeans. There’s a whole world of purses and shoes to focus on, right?

To be sure, there’s a host of other paranoia that I’m still adhering to regularly. That post is coming soon. But in the meantime, what pregnancy-related crud are you throwing out the window?

May 15, 2016

A Small Announcement (Spoiler: I’m Pregnant)

So, it’s been a little quiet around here for the past 10 weeks or so. No, it’s not because I did that thing where you start a new blog and then after a few weeks the novelty wears off and you kind of forget it ever happened. No, that’s not what happened. Something else happened that has pretty much changed everything.

OK, don’t be scared. I’m not going to reveal that I’ve been diagnosed with a frightening illness (knock on wood, please). But around mid-February, on the fourth anniversary of our first date (you celebrate that, right?), my husband and I found out that we were going to be trying on a new role: parents.

It wasn’t a surprise or unplanned, just to put that out there. Just quicker than we’d expected. So there was that and everything kind of sped up from there. We told our families a couple of weeks later but didn’t tell the world until after the first trimester mark. It’s funny – I am one of those people who was all “What’s the big deal?” and then my natural, anxious, neurotic self came in and said “It doesn’t matter if it makes sense, just do what I tell you.” That side always wins because it has true, irrational fear on its side.

My employer was the next to know and since then, it’s been an interesting game of “Do you know or don’t you?” with pretty much everyone we know. I’ve had the one-on-one conversation with lots of my direct contacts at work and I’m guessing other people might know, or think I’m just getting fat. Both are true – my weight gain is mostly mashed potatoes and macaroni and cheese.

I’ll make an effort to not have everything on this blog revolve around pregnancy the next few months, but some of it probably will. It’s a pretty major life change and it has severely curtailed my wardrobe overhaul. I’ve already bid a tender farewell to 3 pairs of jeans and worn jeggings to work. I’m on a mission for extra small, petite maternity clothes to get me through, but I’m faced with a challenge: I don’t want to spend a ton of money on maternity clothes, but I also don’t want to spend the next several months looking dumpy. If I thought dressing my regular, pre-pregnancy body was a challenge, this is a whole new ball game.

As the youngest of the youngest in my family and without any previous close-baby experience, I’ve also been introduced to this strange world of babies. It’s like a secret society that operates via blogs and a multitude of pregnancy tracking apps. Today I learned what a nipple shield is. Tomorrow, who knows? Also, I’m amazed at how many photos I’ve seen of women wearing nothing but a bra and panties while “showing off their bump.” Put something on, guys. You’re making me feel awkward about feeling like I need to tell you not to put mostly naked photos on the internet.

I’m off now to do about 30 minutes of cleaning and before I sit down for an inevitable nap. Exciting times, my friends.