I'm Having an Affair With My Pillow

I sleep with a Snoogle, and that means I kind of sleep alone.

It is phenomenal for pregnant ladies and encompasses all the back support, leg elevation, and roll-over prevention that one could wish for. It also splits the bed pretty evenly down the middle, which means once I get in that bed, I can't really even see over the pillow to the beautiful man who is slumbering there beside me. And, since Burt loves the pillow too, the three of us (Burt, the pillow, and I) tend to hog the covers to one side of the bed. Once I am tucked in there (which takes a minute or two, what with all the propping, tucking, and wrestling), I tend to not want to move, so I flail an arm or a leg over to Scott's side to say goodnight. Then, once we're all asleep, I noisily untangle myself to use the bathroom 3-18 times every night. Ahhhhh, sleepy time. 

I can't wait to add our baby boy to the mix!

Why I Cried Today or My Faulty Placenta or Marginal Previa

At my last appointment I was diagnosed with Marginal or Partial Previa, which basically means that my placenta is partially covering my cervix. My doctor did not seem too concerned, which was reassuring, but as soon as we left the office and started doing research on the condition, I realized that there was so much more to it than she had mentioned. I immediately panicked and refused to call my mother right away as I usually do after every appointment, and waited until we were in a public place where I thought my chances of crying would be reduced due to the number of people. I misjudged my own ability at self-control. I got through the first 3 seconds of greetings, but upon hearing my mother's voice I burst into tears and had to give the phone to Scott, who told my mom the news. She stayed calm for him and then when I was ready to talk again and the phone was handed back, she started crying when she heard my voice and then we started all over again. The waiter kept peeking over to see if we needed anything, and I'm sure he was terribly uncomfortable, because what we really needed was to have had that conversation not there. And chocolate would have helped.

I am easily prone to panic.  

So my mother did more research, as did we, and found out that partial previa usually corrects itself by the later months of pregnancy. Should I start bleeding, then we would have more to worry about. If my faulty placenta does not correct itself and move over to where to should be, then there is a chance I will need a c-section, or I could deliver early. If my cranky placenta refuses to budge I may need to go on bed rest, and as it is I am supposed to take things easy, not lift a lot, etc. So far my doctor has not said anything about pelvic rest, and Scotty and I are very grateful for that. :)

Eventually I calmed down, but I still worry.

It's a Boy --

and at first I was torn.

I am a girl. I studied feminist lit in grad school and I teach at an all girl's school. I enjoy being a girl and fighting for women's causes. One of my goals in life is to make the world a better place for the next generation of women, and I always imagined doing that, in some small way, through a daughter.

And I'm having a boy.

That's not all. I think there are better baby clothes for girls, and I already knew the sort of thing I wanted to decorate her room with. The names I was really dwelling on were girl's names. All those baby legwarmers my niece wears would have looked so cute on my little girl, too.

So when the ultrasound tech (her name is Nikki and she is WONDERFUL) announced we were having a boy, I was thrown. I knew Scotty wanted a boy, and I know he is going to be the best dad to a little boy, so I was so happy for us, but I was also definitely grieving for a little girl who never actually existed.

After about 5 seconds of conflict, I suddenly felt a surge of excitement and wonder. A Boy?! For the first time it was a reality, and the thought of having a little boy, a little Scotty, a sweet little man...I was overwhelmed. I lost it, crying and thrilled with all the possibilities for this sweet boy's future. And he can wear a little hat like Scotty's! And suspenders! And he will be able to keep up with Skyler, my niece! And he can ride a little skateboard like Scotty! And I am sure he will have terrific dance moves, too.

And when Scotty isn't looking, just for me, I'm going to put a little bow in his hair.

I Don't Cook

but I guess now I have to learn. It's on my Things to Due List, which I need to revisit every once in awhile to remind myself of how much I have to do in only very little time. Luckily, I have fantastic cooking role models. Aside from my mother and Scott's mother keeping us very well fed, I have 2 sisters-in-law who are proving to be incredibly helpful. Misque, of Misque's Corner, not only has every kitchen appliance, but she actually knows how to use them, and she does, very well. She's a green cook as well, so all her ingredients are organic, eco friendly, and often vegan. I also have a sister-in-law, Annie, who lives in San Diego and even though she has 5, count 'em, 5 kids, she manages to cook, go to school/work, raise 5 kids, AND send me recipes. Armed with these ladies, and a fantastic cookbook I just bought, Fast, Fresh & Green by Susie Middleton, I am going to pull a Julie/Julia and cook my way through all they have to offer. Wish me luck. I'm starting tomorrow. Ha.

I have started to question why it has taken me so long to begin to embrace this role. Not the role of mommy, I came around to that one pretty quickly, but I guess just general caretaker. I have never really had the urge to cook, I live in a semblance of cleanliness covered only by a thin layer of dust except where visitors won't look (there, the dust is pretty thick), I rarely Swiffer and I really don't mind a sink full of dirty dishes. The idea of "keeping house" and making dinner at first left a bitter taste in my mouth, because... shouldn't my boyfriend be doing all these things too?

Luckily, he's not too shabby. We don't really have a super traditional relationship, we eat a lot of pizza (soon to change!), he is trying to perfect his grilled cheese, and he makes fantastic adult beverages I can't wait to indulge in (next year). He also has a pretty great attitude about everything, which is so nice to have around my grumpy, uncomfortable self. Have I mentioned he's pretty fantastic? Mainly because I know he'll never make me into that 50's housewife that rails against every fiber of my being. I dare him to try.

I am Mean.

It's true. I'm mean. I thought I might end up being one of those sweet little pregnant ladies who is always baking and who has little skinny arms like my mom did when she was pregnant. I thought I would be wearing cute dresses EVERY day and when my boyfriend gets off work, I would have dinner ready and the house would be clean. Didn't I have a Things to Due list? Instead --I am mean.

I haven't baked at all. I signed up for a CSA and this week I was too lazy to even go pick it up (this is the first time, however. I usually do pick it up, and I love all the fresh fruit and veggies -- yay Silverlake Farms!). My arms aren't skinny. My dresses are cute, but I have been wearing the same tee-shirt and cotton skirt for 3 days. And when my boyfriend gets off work, instead of having dinner ready, I demand that he massage me and walk the dog and take out the trash and do the laundry and wash the dishes and finish unpacking and get me a popsicle. And then, when he doesn't do all of it when I ask him to (because he is tired or something), I am mean to him and I cry and I pout and I cry more and blame it all on being pregnant. And then we do it all again tomorrow.

And I have been pretty lucky! I haven't thrown up at all, and we have had so much support from all of our friends and family.  When we moved, I barely lifted a box. Scotty works and takes classes and I have been on summer break for over a month. When I do go to work my one teeny summer job, I am there for about 45 minutes. Twice a week. Really, I have nothing to complain about.

But I don't see anything changing anytime soon.

Cast of Characters in this Crazy Journey

Scotty B -- My boyfriend/expectant dad extraordinaire. He is sweet, patient, charming, adorable, supportive, etc. The only times I have ever seen him cry have been about issues surrounding our child. He tears up and then denies it. He has bad-ass tattoos and wears a dapper cap.

My parents -- Danny and Patti -- They are great. This baby will be their second grandchild. They live in Fresno and are able to visit often. They spoil us every time we are in town and when they are visiting us. And in between. My dad is battling us on our name choices, but he will come around. My mom is a nurse so she is a great resource.

Scotty's parents -- Donna and Fred -- Adorable. This will be their 1st grandchild! They feed us non-stop and are already starting to stock their closet with diapers. They provide us with much needed prayers and lots of sweetness. Donna is also a nurse so all of our questions get answered, even when the few minutes with our doctor fly by.

Scotty's parents -- Terry and Perla -- Riots. Hysterical. This will be their 7th (or 8th?) grandchild, and they live about half an hour away, so we get to see them often. I am looking forward to floating in their pool when my belly gets really big.

Uncle Choners, Auntie Misque, and cousin Skyler -- This is my baby brother's family. Auntie Misque and Skyler (almost 2 years old!) live in Nor Cal, but they will be moving back down here in a few months, which we are all very excited about. Misque's pregnancy taught us all about water birth, home birth, and change of birth plan, and we got the best little girl out of it. Misque's generosity means I have tons of adorable maternity clothes, fancy pre-natal vitamins I can't swallow, and tons of support. And a cousin for my baby!

Uncle Tee and Auntie Mary -- This is Scotty's brother and his girlfriend. They live over the hill from us and are a great escape for Scotty when I prove to be unbearable. It is so nice to have family nearby, and I only feel a little guilty when they catch me in all my worst moods, which they inevitably do, being so close. And my moods being so awful so often.

Burt Reynolds -- our 5 year old miniature schnauzer. He is currently our only child, and we don't see him taking too well to having to share the attention. Our birthing class has suggested some tactics to get him accustomed to the idea, so we'll see how that goes. Luckily he has lots of grandparents who are willing to take him in should he prove to be a vicious sibling.

Friends -- lots! You'll meet them later.

16 Weeks!

The event that every woman should really try to undertake while pregnant is a move. Resting and getting all that unnecessary sleep is really a shame when there could be moving to do! Our old apartment was charming and lovely and about 450 square feet. While we tried every configuration possible, it turns out three people and a dog just need a little more space, and a full-sized kitchen sink. I am told babies like baths in the sink, and our old cave of a kitchen with its tiny sink and zero counter space refused to accommodate our plans, so we stepped it up 200 square feet to a bright, airy kitchen with a nice deep soaker sink any baby would be proud to pee in. Moving day was hectic as we had not yet finished packing, one of my moving pet peeves. I am pretty much a professional mover, after having moved almost every year for the past 10 years and then every 3 years before that, so I have my systems. This move though -- for some reason I was extra tired and just not in the mood to unshelve 20 boxes worth of books. My adorable parents came to help us, though, and together with Scott, did all the hard work and heavy lifting. They wouldn't let me do much, so I stood around for hours and let them take pictures of my belly, greatly slowing them down. Now it is 2 weeks later and we are all moved in! Except for the stuff in our cars. We are officially out of room. Our trunks are now storage sheds. It's working for us. Now that we are all moved to a MUCH bigger place, I still don't know where the baby is going to go. Good thing that sink is so big.