Pride is one interesting emotion. It comes from all sort of situations. I am often full of pride when a student, similar to one this very week, explains to me the reasoning behind his strategy and it is exactly what I had been trying to explain to the entire class for 6 weeks. I'm proud when I hear of a family member doing something out of the norm, and maybe pushing themselves to the limit; although sometimes my pride for them is quickly dashed away by their parent who, in m opinion boasts in such a manner that my pride turns to resentment and a "who cares" attitude towards the achievement.
this weekend though, today in fact I have felt another form of pride. Similar to watching my aging dad complete triathlon after triathlon, or my mom working out and working harder and harder to achieve goals, 2 of the greatest people I know completed, for the very first time, a half marathon. I'm not impressed, because I feel like that would mean that at some point during their training I doubted them. I'm inspired, and proud and a little jealous that I couldn't be there to see it, and/or attempt it with them. They competed together, this husband and wife duo, and finished, without aid, and in times that any person should be proud of themselves for. I can almost guarantee that I am more proud of them, then they are of themselves, and that's okay. I'm hoping that by completing this race, they would have inspired themselves to do others, continue their training, and become better, faster, and stronger together.
I'm super duper, over the moon, beaming with pride for my friends. And, I hope that I can keep some form of training schedule going throughout this pregnancy so that maybe this time next year, I can be apart of the competition and make them proud to know they inspired me.
Friday, October 10, 2014
(I'm sorry this is such a long post, I wasn't quite sure how exactly to break it apart).I don't plan on having my blog suddenly turn into mommy/baby central, (not that there's anything wrong with it), but I feel like since this is going to be a huge part of my fold, it's only right that I should address it here. I guess that kind of thrusts you all into the subject matter of this post.
Prior to Weeks 1-4
I had two false moments throughout the year where I thought I was pregnant and it was HORRIBLE. As a person who is never late; to be days late, with a negative pregnancy test, disappointed wasn't even the word. Granted, I know things could be worse, and more women have been through worse, I was still doubting my ability to become pregnant, which I want to say that I was okay with that, but I didn't want to wait years to find out I couldn't conceive. I had made the decision that since RB was of little to no help when it came to quelling my anxiety, I chose to tell my mom about everything that was happening. My mom and I never really talk about super adult stuff, mostly because mom never likes to pry or question, and I never want to stress her, especially since she worries regardless of what I tell her. Telling my mom was the best move, I should just tell mom everything from the jump, she was super helpful, and could relate to me and my anxiety because apparently, it's "genetic".
After a year of trying, I had made the decision that if I weren't pregnant this time around (august) I was officially letting go till March- mostly because if I got pregnant between September-February it would totally ruin Hawaii for Summer 2015- I know totally unbelievable, priorities people! Also, I was tired of every month becoming a guessing game. The week that I was supposed to get "my friend" I was looking for the regular signs, I won't get into them, but, they weren't there. Although, I was feeling abnormally tired, and run down, I was falling asleep early, and waking up middle of the night to pee, for what felt like, a thousand times, it didn't occur to me that I might have been pregnant.
Come the Thursday before I was supposed to get "it" I decided to take a crappy home pregnancy test. There was a faint line, which I ignored, and just waited. I started to feel a little cramp-y (but not like a usual kind of cramp-y), so mid-morning Friday, my actual date of arrival for my "friend", I took a real store bought home test. The word Pregnant popped up on the stick, and I walked away in shock. My heart-rate rose, and I began fumbling around to figure out what I was supposed to do. I immediately decided not to tell June and Jan, because I was going to see them in a week, and wanted to tell them face-to-face. I took another crappy home test, another faint line appeared and I took it as a "yes".
I got dressed, barely ate, and went to my moms house, but, not before stopping for another box of tests. I got to my moms and sat on her lap, and said, "I had to make a dr's appointment today because I got 3 positive pregnancy tests between yesterday and today!" My mom's mouth dropped, she began to tear up, smile, laugh, and said, "you must be so happy! I'm so happy! Yay!! Yippie!" Her face lit up, she was shocked, excited and nervous all at the same time. She told me I'd always be her baby, and that her baby was having a baby.
The day was a blur, all we kept thinking about was how to tell my dad and RB. I tried to grab a NY Ranger onesie, to no avail, and instead I just went for the handing over of the "pee sticks". RB barely said a word to me for the remainder of the day, he was in shock and thrilled, scared and nervous. His first thought was that he was kinda sad because he wanted to immediately tell his dad, and he was "jealous" that I got to deal with the news with my mom all day, but he was also happy for me too.
At dinner I asked dad if he preferred, "Pappy or grandpa?" He asked "why?", I said, "you have until April to decide." Dad said, "I prefer Opa", (German for Grandpa), with tears in his eyes, and grin on his face. Mom was smiling again and looking giddy. Dad hugged RB first and then me. (That bothered me in a silly/funny way).
The whole night went from not talking about it, to talking about it and then back to not talking about it.
My mom's brother is like my 3rd parent, so it seemed only natural that during his birthday dinner we tell him. He almost cried, and was excited. Again, we didn't really talk about it, but it would randomly come up again. When we dropped him off after cake, he said, "thank you for sharing such important news with me so early, I really feel honored and appreciate it."
Week 5 began with a trip to Vacationland for a quiet vacation, and visits with Jan, June, Mary and Karen (and then some). I was debating over and over how to tell Jan and June. I know 5 weeks is super early to tell as many people as we did, however, my argument was, if god forbid, anything did happen, who would we talk to about it with? Those were the people we told early. When I had told Jan, and June, Jan had known me so long, and so well, that it was no surprise and apparently "called it" a few days prior. I guess that's what happens when you have such wonderful, and intuitive friends. They were excited and immediately ran to hug RB, their respective husbands hugged us frequently, saying their congratulations and expressing their own excitement. Jan's husband and I have known each other for a long time, and the extra amount of love and sweetness shown to me, did not go unnoticed or unappreciated.
Although I do not regret telling my friends and the few family members we had told, I was starting to feel worried that I said to much, that god-forbid-something awful was going to happen. To top that off, I was sad in that it wasn't a secret anymore; a quiet little being, working hard at existing, and it wasn't shared strictly between RB and myself. (I suppose I can chalk that range of odd emotions up to hormones?) I mean, it isn't as though I could un-tell anyone, or that I would have been able to get away with an entire week in Maine not saying anything, AND not drinking a beer here and there.
By week 5, my biggest complaint(s) were being tired, kinda sore and working out had become a chore. I refused to let my hard work of exercise go down the tubes all because of a little zygote. Running was and still is, an arduous task, and lifting needed to be done in a much more careful manner. I woke up feeling tired, and tight everyday and couldn't seem to sleep well. At the beginning of week 6, you could add the occasional heart burn and nausea, and lack of appetite.
Mid-week 6, I (we) had my (our) first prenatal appointment. I had blood drawn, urine checked (it's official, I am pregnant) blood pressure and weight recorded. Not one person said "congratulations", and my Dr officially freaked out RB by giving him the statistics of a miscarriage. It was weird. I don't know what I had expected. I had to make my second appointment, which will happen in 2 weeks, mid-week 8, it includes a huge blood work up, sonogram, weight and blood pressure check.
As much as I don't want to go back to work, I think it's going to be good to go back because of the schedule, I'll keep busy and being to get out everyday for a "run".
Week 7 began with a prescription for progesterone, as my levels were lower than the doctor had hoped. Week 7 also had the added fun of telling my aunt, uncle and cousins. My youngest cousin was excited as expected. She's always been genuinely good hearted and well meaning, she doesn't always say the best things, but she means no harm. My wonderfully sweet uncle, also never meaning to say anything hurtful, and I think I have to thank hormones for my bruised ego when he told me I was sure to balloon up. Both my aunt and my youngest cousin thought for sure we were playing a joke, which just solidifies the skepticism of this entire family. My older cousin in her truest of form responded happily but also with silly statements that weren't at all surprising; "you're life is over... it's about time..."
I am tired all. the. time.
Week 8 was GREAT! I had my first sonogram, internal, (which is weird), and I saw the peanut, and it's rapid heartbeat! It's there. It's real. and I have a heart that isn't my own beating inside of me. so. real. now. so. weird.
I went for a run for the first time in over 2 weeks and it was terrible. When I got back to work, a friend of mine, who I had told already, made me feel better about my crappy run when she said, "as long as your moving, who cares how it feels." I was able to get another crappy run, but I had been busy at work, and after work so much that I didn't get much more working out in. I managed some housework at the beginning of week 9, and I might have done too much BUT I like to take advantage of the days that I feel great.
|Week 9 must-do belly pic|
Week 10 had a work party and some unexpected love, and excitement from some good friends from work. The one consistent thing thus far is every time I think a friend or family will react a specific way regarding our news, they pretty much act the opposite. This isn't true for everyone, but I have been surprised more often by the reactions, questioning, and love.
I have been having hankerings; however, I can't pin point whether the hankering is pregnancy related or just my general hankerings for things that I normally have hankerings for. Other than that, I'm just tired, nothing really more. I am super fortunate, and can't complain, really. Although, I did have a hormonal melt down the other night, but in my defense, RB did provoke it. I cried, I yelled and I broke small kitchen items, and felt better. Chalk it all up to hormones.
Week 11- sonogram, that was another (uncomfortable) internal, with a sleeping fetus. Iggy, (the name we chose to call the no-known-gender fetus) had it's back to us, and was sleeping. Like mother like baby, I suppose. After some poking and prodding, Iggy rolled over, gave us some jazz hands, high kicks with it's legs and feet, before it rolled back over and went back to sleep. Thanks Iggy, for showing mommy and daddy that you have 2 hands, feet, arms, and legs. That made mommy and daddy very happy. The entire time watching Iggy dance around, I couldn't help but think of the end of "Spaceballs" when the Alien is birthed from the mans stomach in the diner and singing, "Hello my baby, hello my honey, hello my ragtime gal..."
I know that I have said on repeat how fortunate I have felt that I have felt so good. The worse thing for me, up until this point was just being overly tired all. the. time. The newest "ailment" are the nightmares. Oh man, between getting up to pee a 1,000 times a night, and now the nightmares, it's a no wonder I'm tired. I'm hoping that when Iggy is out in the world, Iggy will want to continue it's sleeping. Mommy's a big fan of sleeping Iggy, keep it up.
Here's another addition to the "ailments" feeling legitimately gross, fat, and flabby. Thank you hormones. Yesterday, (11 weeks 4 days), I felt like a huge person. I hated feeling that way. It took me 8 years to loose 40 pounds, and keep it off, and I'm so nervous that I could/would gain it all back and have to work so hard at looking it again, it's giving me horrible anxiety with the awesomeness of hormonal imbalances. I sometimes feel that my ass will grow so wide that I will look abnormal, ridiculous, and like so many women in the world who have a wide set of hips, it will become painfully difficult to buy ANY pair of pants ever again.
Newest hankering- red bell peppers. Delicious, bright, full of fiber, red bell peppers.
Final week of the first trimester- week 12. I told the remainder of friends that I love dearly, and they were so exited. My friend Mary even said to me, "this is going to be such a lucky baby", while Karen is planning next summers Maine trip and kids photo shoot. My parents told the remaining friends that didn't know, and I told the rest of work people that I have some personal relationship with, some cried they were so happy and others were just very congratulatory. One of my AP's reacted in an inappropriate manner, because they aren't the smartest person, and tends to say stupid things. But, it doesn't matter, they just needed to be told.
I had my NT test at 12weeks, and was told everything looks normal. Great to hear! I couldn't have been happier. "Iggy" seems super laid back, just chillin' with its hands behind its head (I know not really), legs bent and totally relaxed.
|12w 2d belly pic|
I'm feeling really good, aside from the ever present exhaustion but I've been assured that it's the whole "creating life" thing doing it to me. It doesn't help that my dreams are ridiculous and vivid. The other night I had a dream RB was yelling at me to stop crying and I wasn't even crying. Last Friday night, I had a dream that a good friend of mine at work threw me a party and her entire family was there, as was my own. It was so vivid, as if it were actually happening. She followed me around and wouldn't leave my side she kept telling everyone she was my best friend and she was the host. These two dreams are just two small examples of what keeps me up at night. Moth's and Mice invading my apt, are just two more to add to the list. Oh! and the TMI, vivid sexual dreams--- good lahwd!
Today, I am officially 13 weeks and through my first trimester of my first pregnancy. So far, so good. Knock on wood, this keeps up, and in 27 weeks we have a happy, healthy bouncing baby Iggy.