call me ignorant

But I don’t want to hear it. 

The woman you know from work whose unborn baby will likely need surgery immediately after being born.

A woman who was pregnant and is now not.

I just don’t want to hear it.

I worry enough about me–and not that I don’t want to hear the realities and truths of some pregnancies–I just can’t take it.

I have relaxed a ton since I’ve been back from my trip.  The upcoming California work one coupled with our Babymoon has me slightly irked, but for now I’m enjoying kicks and registering and focusing on our nursery.

Before I was pregnant I talked to my friend who is a nurse at Children’s Hospital in Boston on the transplant floor.  She would tell me stories.  When I saw her on Friday she was silent about work.  And if she wasn’t? I would have told her to refrain from sharing anything with me.

I know we’re not in a perfect world.  I know anything can happen.  But for now, I’m clutching on to what little optimism I carry with me throughout my life and on behalf of my baby.  And for that I can sleep just a little better at night. 

As a nurse told me, she doesn’t hold a crystal ball and nothing is for sure.  But I do know that each day, week, hour, minute is about growing a life inside of me.  Ten fingers and toes.  A heart and nose.  I have so much love to give no matter what happens. 

I pray for those who can’t get pregnant.  I pray for those who’ve had complicated pregnancies.  And my heart goes out to those who are suffering loss.

It could be me.  I hope it isn’t.  And I am superstitious.  Maybe if I turn a blind eye I’ll keep something bad at bay.  Deep down, I know that’s not true.  Knocking on wood isn’t going to help any.

For now I think I’ll just be happy for what I do know at this instance, that I’m 6 months pregnant come Friday.  That I’m proud to become a mother.  And that although I haven’t experienced giving birth yet, I have become stronger.

Please pray for all those who I mention above and for the women who are carrying a life today.

Love,
Itsy bitsy mama

back

I feel like so many people have taken a blogging hiatus or discussed it recently.  I am not.  I’ve just been a busy pregnant lady.

Take my face for example, I look like I’m 16 with my acne.  I have this guy I work with pointing the things out.  Lucky for him we are friends or else I’d have to give him the hairy eyeball and leave something sharp for him to sit on for when he returns to his desk.

I survived the bloody trip to London.  I was thisclose to calling the doctor about some things I was worried about.  Bub talked me out of it.  I went to the doctor yesterday for my regular checkup and we listened to the heartbeat and that lightened my mood and erased my stress from the weeks prior.

I feel like I have a list of things to do a mile long for this little bug inside of me.  And unlike wedding planning when you think, gee, who cares if I only have a ribbon on my wicker card basket and not a flower arrangement, you can’t say the same for finding a pediatrician or daycare.

Daycare.  I’m more thinking about who’s going to take care of ME when the baby comes.  I’ve been such a stressball. 

Every time the baby kicks I feel the need to talk to it.  I especially love talking back in the shower telling baby we’re getting clean! The kicks have been the best.  It’s like a constant reminder now that hey, someone is definitely knocking on my door from the inside and I had better pay attention.

I really, really am.

Love,

itsy bitsy mama

update

I found out the homemade ice cream I ate yesterday night was pasteurized.

And I was smart before I ordered my gelato during the work event; it was pasteurized and delicious.

Oh, and I love gelato.  Especially the stuff we ate on our honeymoon on the Amalfi Coast.

I’m exhausted and miss my husband.

Oh, and Courtney of the babyccino blog fame is fantastic for advising me (or helping me feel less stressed) about eating here in London where she resides.

Thanks, Courtney!

In other news, there’s a horrendous draft in my hotel room.  I have no energy to pack.  I’m breaking all sorts of wardrobe rules that I made for myself at this work event and sporting maternity jeans tomorrow.  I deserve it.

I have a long weekend to look forward to.  Bub’s best friend is getting married and Bub is in the wedding.

And the highlight of our long weekend? We are registering on Monday. 

The weekend, I can just taste it.  In all its pasteurized glory.  : )

Love,

itsy bitsy mama

because it’s late

I made it through the flight.  I peed a TON. 

I got an aisle seat.

I had my luggage waiting for me when I got to the baggage claim.

It rained.  It got sunny.  It rained.  It is not wam here.  Boo.

I bought an adorable stuffed elephant, a onesie with chicks and French written ever so lightly on cotton, and an orange striped onsie since Bub is big into orange and it’s a neutral color.

I did this shopping with an old co-worker.  We stopped for lunch which ended up being a salad plate and I ate…

potato salad and I freaked out (still freaking out) that they don’t pasteurize their eggs here.  They don’t refrigerate them which makes me even more anxious.  This part of the salad had been refrigerated, but this is my new obsessive worry.  That and the homemade ice cream I had for dessert tonight since I didn’t question if it was pasteurized. 

Am I crazy?

I am tired.

The first day of work here was fruitful.  But this baby and I, we need sleep. 

Goodnight from across the pond.

Pray that no listeria develops.

IBM

farewell old gal

Farewell 27.  You have been a good year to me. 

A one-year wedding anniversary.

A new home.

A pregnancy.

…just to name a few milestones.

My twenties are fading quickly.  I feel that I’ve come so far from who I was in a previous time…emotionally, intellectually.  I hope I am the wiser.

On Sunday, as I roam the streets of London shopping for baby and catching up with an old co-worker, as I sip on water with gas and hope for the sunshine we had like last year without the stress of pregnancy worries and misplaced luggage woes, I’ll take a moment for myself and think, long has come the ballerina from childhood, the color guard captain of high school, and the silly (and many times inebriated) student at college. 

Now she is a professional, trying to find her way.  Will she return to work after the baby arrives or go back to school or move her family to a far away place in the future? Now she is a wife, an older friend, and a soon-to-be mother. 

Each year my birthday comes on the brink of warm weather sifting through a rain shower, sprinkled to me on top of a slice of birthday cake.  My mom always knew to make it with chocolate frosting–and sprinkles.

What have I learned and where am I going? I’ve never really known, I’ve always just done: what is expected, what most do, all while trying to keep a sliver of personality, a hint of me.

Cheers to me.  And thanks to you all for being great listeners.  Hopefully there will be live blogging from London.  Or, a good recap when I return on Thursday.

xo itsy bitsy mama and her belly

28, look out!

he makes the worry melt away

When your husband talks in a loud voice to your belly and asks lots of questions like, “Can you hear daddy?” Or, “Are you kicking mommy?” He makes it melt away.

When he suddenly reaches for you, but passes your hand only to rub your tummy and hopefully feel the baby move, or just so that he can connect with baby, he makes it melt away.

And when you catch him in the hallway, planting a kiss on his finger and putting it up to each of the ultrasounds we have mounted on the wall as if he were giving baby actual kisses, he makes it melt away.

He makes all of this worry and stress worth it.  Because he knows, more than I do, that love is greater than anxiety.  It’s stronger.  And I do love him, the father of our baby.  And I can’t wait for baby to see how much of a wonderful father he’ll be.

putting it all out there

When I write in this thing I feel like I “should” write, that it’s been a while since I’ve posted, that I want to be sure I have a memory of what I was thinking, where I was at at 20 weeks in my pregnancy.

But I can’t hide behind a wall anymore.  Things aren’t perfect, in fact they’re hard.  Last night I had a breakdown and kept telling myself that it’s just the hormones, which my therapist says it is, but I feel crazy.  I really, really do.

I know I’ve mentioned on here that I’m a worried first-time pregnant person and that nurses yell at me to not worry, and then we all say what bitches.  How can they be like that? The thing is, my anxiety level is so high.

I am fearful of so much in my life.  And I write this with tears in my eyes now because I want to come clean.  I’m going to be a mother and there’s so much I want to have set, organized, perfected before the baby comes.

You want everything to be perfect for this baby, my husband says.  And he’s right.  Except I can’t perfect myself overnight.

I feel like I’m going to screw everything up.  I feel like if I don’t question every little thing I put in my mouth that I’ll have a terrible time losing the weight after or I’ll harm the baby, cause miscarriage, birth defects, you name it.

In a week I take off for London, a trip I made last year by myself for the first time.  Although it’s for work, it’s empowering.  Meetings, adrenaline rush, independence.  It was an amazing experience.  This time I take along in my tummy the person I want to protect the most.  The thing I can’t see, but only feel.  And I’m scared to death.  Scared of not walking around enough on the flight and wondering about the risk of blood clots, scared that my baby won’t receive enough oxygen, scared that if something did happen that the ditzy flight attendant won’t tend to me or take me seriously.  I panicked and freaked out and while eating a stale donut the tears poured down and Bub consoled me. 

I’ve asked my doctor 3 times if it was safe to go.  I am even wearing the hosiery she recommended to keep circulation moving so that the risk (slight or not) of clots is kept at bay.  But it’s like I have a worrying disease.  I would never forgive myself if something happened to my baby in flight or because I traveled.  And I am so scared to think that I am putting my life before my unborn baby’s.

Sounds silly, right? Well this is me.  And I’m tired of acting like everything is always peachy because well, things are just really crazy in my head and hormones or not, I’m tired of being afraid.

On the good news front, yesterday was a very active baby kicking day! I questioned the flutters, spasms, and popcorn-popping feelings I had earlier, but yesterday I was confident that it was all movement.  Either that or I’ve developed a stomach spasm disorder I need to get a diagnosis on.

Wishing you all a good weekend.  Here’s hoping yours isn’t as anxiety-filled as mine. 

Love,

itsy bitsy mama at 20 weeks:

sleepy observations

So since I am almost–in two days–half-way through my pregnancy, I thought I would tell you a few things I’ve noticed about being a woman with child and sleeping…yes, sleeping.

First, enjoy sleeping on your back and stomach.  As many may or may not know, the best sleeping position for you and your unborn bug is to sleep on your left side.  This is how the baby receives nutrients best and the best blood flow.  So go ahead and curl up on your left side.  There, just like that.  You can also lay (lie?) on your right side, too, but it puts strain on your kidneys.  But it’s okay, just remember, left side is better. 

I was told if you sleep on your tummy, no big deal, it just may feel weird or be uncomfortable.  Yes, it is uncomfortable.  You have the beginnings of a beach ball attached to your front torso–would you sleep on your stomach like that? And after 16-20 weeks, stay away from sleeping or laying on your back altogether.  Blood flow is cut off and your baby could be voided of the precious everything you are providing to it.  Also, it can cause nausea and discomfort.

Because I am a crazy, chronic worrier, it’s been a long time since I have slept on my back (and also tummy) and damn, I am so sick of sleeping on my left side. 

They make pillows for pregnancy to help the comfort factor, but have you seen just how big these contraptions are? They look like partial octupuses.  Thank you, but I’ll cling to my husband. 

Oh, and yesterday was a big shopping day.  Here is one of my new shoe purchases!

Love me some yellow:

Update: We have booked our babymoon! California, here we come!!!

getting dolled up while knocked up

So I leave for London in 12 days and I can’t wear jeans or the summer tops I just bought with my mom last week to show off my belly bump.  I need to look professional–and cute!–and so I just found this little number on sale:

I’m hoping it fits well.  For all you prego readers, I found it at Mimi Maternity.

Next up, shoes!