Rabbit, Rabbit and a Happy New Year.

I suppose I owe you a belated Mele Kalikimaka, and a cheers to 2015; Merry Christmas, a Happy Hanukkah and Happy Kwanzaa. OH, and IT'S 2015! Holy crap time flies when you're having fun.

Growing up, I always cried when the ball would drop, signaling the end of a year and the beginning of a new one. I didn't like change, I enjoyed the status quo, the static regularity of the daily normal. Since getting married though, I have to admit, my tears would come not out of the loss of the status quo, but the idea that time is just going by so quickly, I hope that I am actually enjoying, living, and making the most of all of it. This year, however, not a tear came to my eye.

Today is one of my most favorite days of the year; RB and I sit in jammies all day, go nowhere, talk to no one, watch bowl games, the Hockey Winter Classic, eat whatever is in the house and just enjoy being with one another for another years start. Today, while being comforted by RB's light napping snores on the couch, I am able to think closely about the year that has just past, (and, every year prior to this one). RB and I have been through so much as a couple, as people, as professionals, as everything we are, and I can't help but smile when I think about how wonderful it is to have gone through it all when we did, because I want nothing more than to always face life's ups and downs, good times and bad with him by my side. I am so very fortunate. I used to be annoyed that it took me so long to feel this way, but hey, better late than never. We have so much to look forward to this year, and I'm starting to feel more like the person I am, and the person I want to be with each passing day. I used to keep so much to myself, and now, I share it with RB and that too, has made us better than we ever were.

This year was no exception for us as people, with it's ups and downs, my heart was broken a few times this year, and also, my heart was filled with so much love, and admiration I thought it might burst. I learned so much about people, and myself, and I appreciate how I am never to old to be taught a lesson of any kind. I saw and heard many beautiful and ugly things, I can differentiate between the two. I have realized who has earned my time and devotion, and who simply can survive on the bare minimum from me.

As I sit, listening (still) to RB's light snoring, and the sounds of a bowl game, I feel the kicks of "Iggy" always letting me know that I am never alone, and never again will I be. Although I may be content with the status quo, I'm looking forward to new adventures and things never being static, regular, boring, mundane ever again. We are going places, we are making things happen and letting them happen for us too. All this is why a tear never made it to my eye.

I wish you nothing but light, love, happiness, health and adventure in 2015, and in every year to come. Cheers to you, go have one for me.

"Whoa, We're Halfway Thereee..."

Despite the unseasonably cold temperatures and odd precipitation, I have managed at the very least 3 runs a week. Yay me! I refuse to run less than 3.1 miles regardless of how long it takes me. Every step of the way I remind myself that I am __ weeks pregnant, and I'm still going! I have made more of an effort to lift and practice my prenatal pilates, because it's my alone time, my "me" time, and it doesn't cost me a thing.

Although, being pregnant and trying to workout has been some work, it's work that I am willing to put in because I would rather have to work now, rather than becoming 40 lbs overweight, and have to start virtually from scratch when it comes to loosing the weight and working out. It was a long, hard road to get to the point that I was prior to becoming pregnant, and am at now. Granted, I definitely indulge in a day here and there of skipping a workout, eating some cheese, and/or cake- I mean, it is only fair, isn't it? ;-)

(Thanksgiving was, well, fine. It was only slightly annoyed, and minimally accosted by family. So, it was bearable even without alcohol).

20 weeks 2 days

 Here it is the meat and potatoes of it all. We are half-way there! Holy cow, how time flies. My belly is small, and I still feel pretty good. A lot of pressure in my pelvic/hip area, which is completely normal. I like to describe to other women who have inquired what it feels like as a sack of sand laying within your pelvic floor. Shirts are more snug that I would like them to be, as are some pants. I am still completely in regular non-maternity clothing, but I am fortunate enough to have a best friend who has a wide range of maternity wear that she has lent me when the time comes that Iggy "POPS". The nurses in the doctors office are betting that I will pop by 24 weeks, (December 26th).

I still have no food cravings, nor do I have any aversions, although due to my gastrointestinal history and distresses, there are certain foods that do not digest well, and cause a great discomfort, red meat, potatoes of any kind, and most dairy products. Lentils, peanut butter and jelly, spinach, red peppers, onions, mushrooms and BREAD, BREAD, BREAD seem to sit the best. Although, I hate to admit it out loud, but considering I plan on either printing or transferring most, if not all this information to some kind of pregnancy/baby book, I have gained about 6.5 pounds. I feel every ounce of those 6.5 pounds.

20 weeks 1 day

At 20 weeks 1 day exactly, RB and I went for my anatomy scan. It happened the day after Thanksgiving, giving us more things to be grateful for. Iggy looks great. Iggy was making it rather difficult to be seen, and measured, but nevertheless the tech did the best she could with a shy, yet stubborn little Iggster. She asked if wanted to know gender, to which RB said, "I do, she doesn't." The tech obliged our request to keep it to herself, writing the gender on a sonogram picture and putting it in a sealed envelope. The doctor at the hospital that we go for the tests, said that I needed to come back in two weeks to have Iggy remeasured, as Iggy is measuring a a week to two weeks smaller than it should be. I am not worried, RB of course was white. I informed him it's okay for the fetus to be a smaller now, it means that there is less of the chance of gestational diabetes. As for the envelope, it is in our home. I have not looked because I still do not want to know and most of the time, I even forget that I can know whenever I want to know. RB however, does know. We weren't going to tell anyone that he knows, but who cares. RB won't tell anyone, and he loves being the only one who does know. (Don't bother, he won't tell you!) Iggy has got a big head, apparently, all fetus' have big heads; more room for its glorious brain. When I sent this sonogram picture to my cousin, who has been amazing these last few months, she said Iggy looked so happy in this picture, a happy, healthy baby. Almost like it were laughing. 

This weeks milestones, LOTS of activity. Iggy likes to dance, and moves more with music, and when I am sitting with my knees up. Iggy is "quite" after a run, or any workout, a often will stop moving the second RB wants to get a feel, (poor guy). Last night as we were laying in bed, we saw my belly wave, and move because of Iggy's powerful little kicks, turns, and twists. My favorite part of being pregnant, the moving. I love the science behind feeling this kid move around, kick, and listening to it's heart beat the most. Seeing it on the screen is cool too, but certainly not my number one in the awesome department. I don't feel like a mother, or this intense connection to Iggy. Most of the time I feel like a hippo, but then I feel that awesome little kick, and nudge, reminding of it's existence and I feel like a happy, hippo. 

Whoa, we're halfway thereeee.... now to get through the holidays :) 

Iggy Update Week 17+

17 weeks 2 days

Iggy and I are GREAT. That's the go-to answer, "Great." Not for nothing, I've always been a relatively tired person, so being slightly more tired now isn't that much of a change. I've suffered chronic headaches for decades, so my Saturday morning headaches, also not that difficult to deal with. Therefore, why not say "Great", I'm fortunate in that I don't feel that much different. Some people seem disappointed by that answer. "You're not sick? You're not super hungry? You're not fat?!" A friend of mine and I were discussing the other day, how kind, yet annoying it is to be asked, "How 'ya feeling?" every. single. day. The increased interest in my well being is bittersweet. I find it kind that people ask, annoying because it's all the time by everyone, but hurtful because it took me becoming pregnant for you to care about my well being.

June said, it gets worse, eventually you'll show up somewhere and you won't even get so much as a "hello", before they are looking for the baby, ("Jerry, you gotta see the baby"; I stand firmly behind the concept that everyday can be equated to a Seinfeld episode.).

I had a colleague at work actually accost me and rub my almost non-existing belly without even saying hello, my response, "there is no genie that's gonna pop outta that lamp so you can stop rubbin'!" Another colleague came to me disappointed upon seeing me come back from (an amazing) run, that there was no belly to rub. What can I say, <sigh> sorry. 

I ran 3 times last week, all 3+ mile runs, all 40 minutes or less, (still slow) but still felt much better, and was able to keep my heart rate down. Being able to run still, as slow as it might be, makes me feel really good about being pregnant. Although, some days it's terribly hard to be motivated about working out, I'm always glad I did and feel exponentially better because of it.  I lifted 3 times last week- feeling strong, and did my first prenatal pilates workout, which also felt pretty good.

Speaking of lifting and kind but annoying colleagues, some people at work have decided that I am this precious, brittle, invalid. That's actually worse than the constant questions. I work with this girl who was pregnant last year who literally held, and rubbed herself all the time doing the, "oh, I'm pregnant, I can't lift that, eat that, do that, etc." So, the rest of the staff just seem accustomed to that type of pregnant lady, which I am not. I'm the furthest thing from that kind of pregnant lady. JD was shocked when she saw them act that way with me on Friday, and didn't understand it. I told her it was really stupid, especially since they all watch me go out for a run at least 3 days a week at lunch, so why wouldn't I be able to carry a small box to my car, or do my bulletin boards.

All test results are in, and I'm within the normal range for Iggy having any chromosomal defects, which is nice to know. It means that the chances are not higher than they should be for me. To be completely truthful, I really haven't thought much about it all mostly because I forget that I am pregnant. I keep waiting to feel something that might jump start my ability to bond with Iggy in utero, but nothing just yet. I try to explain to RB that I honestly don't feel that different. Sure I want a Genoa Salami sandwich and I know I can't, but there's nothing. I think about Jan and June and how they would talk about their kids while they were pregnant, and I probably should have asked or paid closer attention to how they really felt on a day to day basis, like, did they realize/feel pregnant? When did it "hit" them? I listen to Iggy's heart beat, thanks to Junes' pocket Doppler she lent us, but it doesn't register completely. I even felt Iggy "swim" around yesterday, and although it was freakishly weird, still, nothing.

RB wholeheartedly wants to find out the gender and I am torn when it comes to finding out gender because part of me wants to be surprised, (it's only a 50/50 chance of anything anyway), the other part feels like maybe if I know the gender it'll be real. Even still, if I do find out, I have every intention of not telling a soul. So far, during this pregnancy, I'm so much more laid back and RB is riddled with anxiety, the role reversal is odd. I take everything in stride and he's freaking out (quietly) about how he wants it to be April already, and what car seat will work for us. I have such strong faith that everything will be fine and that I am doing all that is in my power to keep it that way, that if we have to wait till Iggy is here to buy everything (but a car seat) so be it.

My sweet and loving husband offered to get a second job so that I can stay home for a year or two with Iggy and not work full time. My answer; I barely see you as it is, and it isn't as though my job doesn't lend itself to be an easier schedule for child rearing than most other full time jobs. I mean seriously, I'm a teacher, as hard as I work between the hours of 7:30am to 3:30pm I work till 3:30, I don't bring work home and have vacations built in throughout the year. Thanks my darling RB but no thanks, I'd rather work and see you, than be home and never see you. I kinda like you RB, and want you around.

Lastly, I want to just show off my Halloween brilliance this year. For around $10, I was able to pull off (in my mind) a superbly attractive Bob Ross. That's right, I painted happy little trees, and turned all mistakes into birds all day long. And no, no kid knew who I was, so we watched an episode on PBS.com so they could see. A lot of adults thought it was a great costume. What do you think?

I'm already thinking about how I can trump this costume for next year. It's sure to be Great.

I'm still waiting...

My first and foremost advice when you get pregnant or your wife or girlfriend gets pregnant, take everything that is said to you with a a grain of salt. For instance, I am still waiting for the energy I was promised would return during my second trimester. I've always been a tired person in general, but I thought maybe at some point I would get a little extra "umph". The other night I was in bed by 8:15 and asleep by 9. It doesn't help that in between going to the bathroom 5+ times a night, I'm still having ridiculous dreams.

Working out has been so hard, the motivation isn't there because I can't get faster, and I don't feel stronger or feel effective while working out, and I find myself eating for the sake of eating. Today, I over ate, and I look 9 months pregnant! (Okay, maybe I don't look that pregnant, but I feel that pregnant). I also noticed along with the widening of my lower half, (which I worry constantly about because I am already a wide based woman, if I get any wider I'll have to enter doorways sideways), I have an inner tub effect happening. I'm hoping that I can attribute the inner tub effect to my over eating today. 

My emotional up's and down's have been few and far between (thank goodness!), however, today I found myself leaving the house and loathing the existence of every human on the road and at work. I'm happiest home with RB, where no one can disturb me. When RB came home tonight I actually cried telling him how I called everyone in my general vicinity an asshole; I was so upset by the fact that I was so angry, I cried. RB told me it was all because I had a little piece of him in me, and since RB hates everyone, having that little piece of him in turn makes me hate everyone. Not good. Not goo at all. 

On a happy note, Jenski, that wonderful running partner of mine, my motivator and little miss go getter is doing her first half-marathon this weekend, and yet again, I couldn't be prouder of her. She has trained long and hard for this race, and I wish I was there to cheer her on! I know she'll be great! I'll be with you in spirit Jenski, maybe by the end of this week I will have run 13.1 miles in total! ha ha ha. xox 

So Proud.

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.

we shall call you Iggy...

(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".

Weeks 1-4
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.

RB requested that I take a test every day because he loved looking at it. I obliged him of course and I was also kinda happy to see the same result everyday myself. (11 positive at-home tests later, I was thoroughly convinced my body wasn't tricking me).

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."

Weeks 5-8
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.


Weeks 9-12

Week 9 must-do belly pic

Week 9 began with telling my grandparents, and RB's mom, as well as the rest of his family. We also told good friends, by using their 7 year old son as our little helper- "Mommy, daddy, there's a baby in Auntie J's Belly!" I wish I had it on video. My MIL was thrilled, (as to be expected), my only issue was her comment about how she plans to spoil the kid especially if it's a boy. I know that some of you won't understand why this comment would bother me so, but if you knew some of the things my MIL has said to me, this would bother you too. Sometimes it's almost as though I don't matter, and I'm just a vessel. RB's aunt didn't let me down with a selfish comment about how the SKY's name will live on, and how happy she was that it would! Nice, right? Again, things that have been said to me in previous years dictates why these kinds of things annoy me.

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 went for a run twice this week and my Tuesday (12w 4d) run was pretty rough, slow, and hard, but still managed, whereas my Thursday run, (12w 6d) was faster, but still a little rough. I feel like I'll never get to that 10 minute a mile mark, even after "Iggy" makes way into the world.

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.

vacation = lazy

I have take the idea of vacation to a whole new level. I can count on one hand how many workouts I've had, the hours of repeated television are countless, and sleeping 9+ hours was a must. I began vacation with a trip to Maine to see Jan and June as well as some lady friends. It was the exact vacation I needed. Laying around, hanging with my friends and their kids, eating delicious meals, and just soaking up the goodness of doing "nothing". It was magical, my only complaint was that Jan had to return to work and missed out on the whole week with June and I. There's always next year of course, but it was a bittersweet week. Jan is already making plans to come and visit this fall, and I look forward to having a bit of company.

RB and rented a lovely little apartment in Scarborough and it was perfect for us. Great size, great location and the most comfortable bed!

For the first time in 4 years I made it to the beach less than 10 times, and I don't care to much about it. Another first; not dreading returning to work. I miss my structured routine. As much as I love being home with RB and hanging with my mom as much as I did, I'm happy to feel productive again, and have my routine back. I am hoping to have a productive school year, and getting a lot of crap done, while keeping my head down and mostly to myself.

What will get me through the year--- Hawaii next summer! That's for damn sure, we are going. Better get my running body back, otherwise it's going to be a rough year of thinking about that bathing suit.

It really was a great 20 days. Whatever went on went on because that's the way this vacation was suppose to play out. I enjoyed it all, and it's good to do a whole lotta nothing sometimes. I'm recharged and ready to go. Rabbit, Rabbit. Let's hear it for 2014-2015.