friends for baby A

Thing #793 I didn't know about being pregnant: I didn't know how excited I would get about other people having babies. Sure babies are always exciting - cute little balls of dough that looks like Winston Churchill and smell like divinity (most of the time). But it's a way bigger deal to find out that people are pregnant when you're pregnant. I'm not sure if it's because I'm excited about the shared experience (Your ankles are swollen? MINE TOO!!!) or the thought that we'll be going through most of the same things at the same time for the next two decades plus (Your daughter is kissing boys on the playground? MINE TOO!!!). Or maybe it's just the imaginary friendships I picture our little ones having - as surely they'll be as cool as their parents (who we love). Either way, it's exciting. And we've had a lot to be excited about lately. 

This is a tale about a baby boom. Sure they say these things come in cycles. It seemed like everyone got engaged in an 18 month period. Then clusters of people started getting married, buying houses, etc. So it's not rocket science that the little ones would start a'comin. But I didn't exactly expect this magnitude. It really all started when super cool Shane and Karen Matlock had an "oops" experience last February. In March, Adam and Christy had a surprise of their own - and in May, Doug and I completed the trifecta with our surprise blessing (we really should start calling ourselves the Fellowship of the Nuvaring... either that or initiate local classes instructing people on how exactly birth control works, since clearly it gets confusing around here...). Then Peter and Patty Wyngaard got pregnant three weeks after we did... then Jake and Kristin Seward and Katherine and Richard Wintsch. All of us due between November and June. Avalanche of babies. 

The cutie pictured above is the first to be delivered (Kayden Matlock and Avery's future BFF). Shane and Karen had her in Lille, where they moved this summer. Our plan is to pack up baby A and trek her over the Atlantic next summer so Kayden and Avery can romp around France in baby berets. I think it's a totally brilliant plan:-) 

The Namesake

The other day I ran into a woman I work with who is 8 months pregnant. She's having a boy (her 4th!) and we started talking about baby names - or specifically their inspiration. She said she had a baby name she loved, but that it was inspired by a soap star - and knowing that her husband wouldn't approve of a baby named for a day time television character (who would?), she found a literary character with the same name and said that was her inspiration. Sneaky, but brilliant...

It got me thinking about Baby Avery's name inspiration. There's no real magical story. I've liked the name for a long time. It's not super common (...nor does it sound like something we made up by throwing random syllables together... though we did play that game over the 4th of July. I would think of a syllable and Doug would think of a syllable and each of us would throw one out to see what baby names we came up with. Among the favorites were clee-boo and dron-us. That's how a lot of people name their kids these days, right?...) and frankly Avery was the only one we could agree on. I really loved Harper (To Kill a Mocking Bird), Bella (short for Isabella) and Darcy (for Jane Austen), but Doug wasn't a big fan of any of those. I heard the name Kennedy for a girl the other day and thought it was kind of awesome, but of course, we're settled now. And I'm rambling. Back to the point of my story...

When I told my mom we were thinking about naming our girl Avery, she said, "Oh I love that name! Except for that terrible woman in Jerry Maguire." She was, of course, referring to Kelly Preston's character in the '96 Cameron Crowe movie. For those of you who don't remember that iconic Avery, she was Jerry's fiance for the first few acts. Smart, talented, ambitious and beautiful, when he loses his clients she gives a pretty famous speech:

"There is a sensitivity thing that some people have... I don't have it. I don't cry at movies. I don't gush over babies. I don't start celebrating Christmas five months early and I don't tell a man who just screwed up both our lives 'oh, poor baby.' That's me, for better or for worse. But I do love you..."

In many people's minds (including my mother's) this lack of sensitivity was paramount to being a sociopath - certainly not characteristics one would want for one's child. But truth be told, that character is like my own version of Tara's secret soap star. I loved her. I loved her unabashed authenticity. I love that rather than being destroyed when a guy broke up with her, she hauled off and hit him (this is probably revealing a lot of latent feminism leaking through - or anger issues - I'm not exactly sure...). I loved that she was strong and independent - and as someone who DOES cry at movies, start celebrating Christmas early and has always wanted to punch an ex-boyfriend or two - I was envious of those things. And that admiration kind of stuck with me over the past 12 or so years (eesh I'm getting old). You'd better believe her talent and tenacity were on my mind when I threw out the name.

So, when my grandparents asked about our baby's name I gave them the official company line: Avery means 'wise counselor' - and I do hope she's wise. I also hope she's capable of a healthier relationship than Kelly Preston's character. But if a boy ever breaks her heart, I'm okay with her leaving him limping away in pain rather than the other way around... Just between you, me and the internet...

rockabye baby

Alright prospective parents. In case you've been dreading the idea of having to learn the words to "wheels on the bus" and "the farmer in the dell" - I have recently learned that there is a fabulous alternative. My BF Lauren found this cd series called Rockabye Baby (www.rockabyebabymusic.com). She bought us lullabye renditions of u2 and coldplay, but they also have the beatles, rolling stones, nirvana, etc. etc. etc. They instrumental lullabies are just what baby music should be - sweet, melodic and sleep inducing. And now Doug and I have full confidence baby A will have good music planted into her little brain early on. Gotta love that:-) Thanks aunt Lauren!

Prego Business Cas

Seven months ago my definition of "business casual" involved a cute skirt from anthropologie, some sort of blazer from banana, some funky heels and jewelry. I'm no Rachel Zoe, but when the occasion arose, I could clean up with the best of them. Entering my third trimester, that's not so much the case. I lost the ability to wear anything from my beloved anthopologie around month 4 (or at least I'm not spending Anthro money on gear I hope to never fit into again post baby), around month 5 my shoes stopped fitting. And last week I went on a business trip wearing black Liz Lang maternity pants, converse all stars and assorted layers of spandex and stretch cotton. This is the new business casual. I'm sure I didn't look at slummy as I felt, but I was utterly depressed by the options before me when I looked in my closet at 4am before my flight. Sure, there are "businessy" maternity clothes that probably would have been an improvement, but for someone who has always taken such delight in fashion... arranging pieces in unexpected combinations to express some sort of feminine communique, pairing full panel pants and whatever sneaker-ish shoes my Professor Klump feet with cooperate their way into is utterly depressing. 

I know this all sound like vanity (sounds like?), but it's worth mentioning how far I've fallen where one of my favorite pastimes is concerned. This is definite motivation to work out starting in March. 

A new dawn, a new day.

It's truly ironic that I haven't blogged about the election until now. While both the pregnancy and the presidential race have been a big part of life in recent months (though obviously not quite equal in personal weight:), until this week I saw them as two simultaneous, if unrelated happenings. 

Sure, people vote for the future and therefore for their kids. But being so new to all of this, I've been more focused on the single moms who can't make ends meet and the kids in sub-par schools than I have the implications of this race for my own little girl. 

That is, until Tuesday. For weeks now, I've been talking about the issues with friends. I've been inspired by President Elect Obama's words and I've taken them to heart. In recent weeks I've hit the campaign trail, knocking on doors, making phone calls and lending what time, talent (and money) I have to helping secure the change we need. It overlapped with my pregnancy when I was tired from canvassing and my feet were swollen from hours spent getting out the vote. But I still wasn't connecting the dots.

On Tuesday morning, it all became very real to me. I got up at 5:45am and stood in line for nearly two hours to vote. While it was early (and cold and raining) I was surrounded by my friends and neighbors, who had also braved the early morning hours to cast one of the first votes in this historic election. And as I stood there, I felt blessed by the sense of community and the significance of that day. I realized that Avery was there with me, and that one day I would tell her that we got up early and stood in the rain to vote for President Obama. I realized I would tell her that she was part of making it happen, going with me through inner-city neighbors and helping to educate first time voters on how to exercise their God-given right to use the power of their voice to change things. She will be born into a family and into a world where hope has triumphed over fear once again. 

While we were canvassing, we met an elderly black woman who told us that when she was young she wasn't allowed to go to school with white children. And now, decades later she was casting her vote for the first African American president. I was moved by her hopefulness and overcome when I realized that my daughter will be born into a world where a child of any color or background can achieve that ultimate dream. I hope that she won't understand racism, for she'll only have known the way things are. And I hope the way things are will continue to improve. 

Suddenly I realized the significance of all this for her. And I was overwhelmingly grateful for the gift she (and all children) has been given. 

Breastpumps... life savers or torture devices?

I confess... I'm kind of grossed out by the idea of breast feeding. In fact, I'm probably more intimidated at the thought of breast feeding than I am of the delivery itself. I'll be drugged for the actual delivery and if I'm lucky it'll be morphine fogged one time event, verses a daily experience. And from what I've heard, it hurts.

That said, I fully intend to do it. I wish I could say I plan to breast feed because it's the right thing to do... or because it's better for the baby nutritionally... or because it will facilitate bonding. Nope. I'm going to breast feed because it saves money and burns like 600 calories a day. 600 calories! Done and done. 

Not that I'm looking forward to it. I've been trying not to think about it... until I went to register the other day. I started by just registering for things I wanted - like nursery or a bugaboo. But in browsing the list I stumbled across a breast pump and realized that it was going to have a big part of my future (shudder). So it's there... and God they're expensive. (I'll take this moment to note that I don't think it's expensive when people spend $900 on a stroller that looks good and is exciting, but the thought of spending a third of that on a breast pump is utterly depressing to me.)

All this is preface to an email I got from a friend today, which only confirmed my worst weirded-out fears. But at least it made me laugh.

"Believe me, we didn't know what the heck we were doing when we first registered and I only learned the crucial items at 12am, when I didn't have it. Like when I had to send Todd on an emergency trip to Target to get a breast pump because my boobs wouldn't turn off and I thought the earth was going to flood again, this time with breast milk..."

So that's what I have to look forward to.

yaaaaaaaaaaay....

Designing the perfect baby lair...

Avery's nursery has literally been keeping me up at night. Granted, this has a lot to do with the fact that I'm a rabid design junkie. I spent the first five months of my pregnancy scouring sites like modernnursery.com, fawnandforest.com, 2modern.com, etc. Plus the more traditional favorites like potterybarnkids.com and landofnod.com. After 16 weeks of gestating (and obsessing about the nursery) I came to the conclusion that I could never take a design out of a url and put it in my house. I needed to design something custom for our girl that would be unlike anything else I'd seen. 

This led to phase two of my search: choosing a color palette and furniture. To be followed by phase three (which I'm in now): choosing the art and details to pull it all together. Clearly, I'm not there yet. But I'll tell you how far I've gotten so far. The color palette is as follows:

Brown

Lime

White

Lavender

Namely, the walls are lavender. The furniture is mahogany and the bedding will be simple, brown and white. Decorative accents (like the lamp below) will serve as pops of lime to accent. Below I've included the furniture, including the rocker and the upholstery we're having it covered in. Next step is art, so stay tuned.

(*note, the bedding pictured on the crib is not what we're going with. no pink, not even a little:-)

The law of averages...

(Note: Doug and I were Juno and Paulie Bleaker for Halloween this year. Felt right.)

I've never been someone who considers myself average. For better or for worse, I've always thought that there are some things that I'm better at than most (vocabulary, for example) and some things I'm worse at than most (like restraint). I found a career I love at a relatively young age (above average), but am terribly undisciplined (below average). And while not ideal, this life of extremes has always worked quite well for me (though not always for my wallet or my waistline).

So imagine my surprise to find out that when it comes to first time motherhood, I am, in fact, the portrait of average. 

As I posted when I first learned I was expecting, I feel entirely too young to have a baby. I realize rationally that that's probably not entirely true - but we certainly seem young. We've only been married for two years and we're not all that responsible. After all, Doug still can't remember to return videos to blockbuster and I generally do laundry when we've run out of clean underwear. We eat meals at home approximately twice a month - not exactly the portrait of stable family life. When I first told my best friend I was expecting, I felt a little bit like Juno calling her BFF on her hamburger phone.  

Six months later I've gotten used to the idea, settled into making plans and gotten really excited about meeting this amazing little girl. Still, as I clumsily plod along the road to parenthood, not much about it seems average. (Besides the pregnancy, which has gone like clockwork, thank God.) So imagine my surprise to learn...

• The average of a 1st time American mom is 27.
  
• The average mom expects to have 2.7 kids.*
  
• The average couple spends over $13k on baby during the first year... lets just say that we're well on our way.
  
• The average new mom plans for a babymoon and a push present (check, check).
• The average new mom (or at least the majority) plans to work after having kids.

* Note that I'm rooting for 3 kids and Doug wants 2. I'm a little more persuasive than he is, so I'm guessing 2.7 bambinos is the average we're leaning towards at the moment.

So in fact, I'm not so special and not so unique after all. Not quite sure whether I should find that comforting or frightening. Maybe everyone goes through a freaked out cycle of 'am I really capable of doing this well?' before baby is born. Maybe no one feels adequate, or old enough. Maybe.

Since I've been a super slacker mom... our girl's first pix.

Avery Grace Paul 

at 9 weeks...

at 13 weeks...

also at 13 weeks... 

(this one in a frame since it was the first time we could see her little face)

at 22 weeks...

Mom idols...

In generations past (I've heard) that women sought to do everything they way their mothers did. If she cooked, you would cook. If she upheld tradition, you upheld tradition. Who knows to what extent this is true (part of me feels like every generation of daughters has reinvented motherhood in new and interesting ways), but I feel like we're more apt to break with our own mothers' ways of doing things than in generations past. 

So much of what I read about Millennial moms deals with the idea of blending everything... time (work life and home life are blurred), roles (egalitarianism has shaken up who does what and who stays home) and anything else you can imagine to create a unique system that is workable, livable and happy for you. No more cookie cutters, no more mom haircuts. At least that's what I like to think. 

Because of this blending, one is constantly pulling for an array of sources for inspiration. No longer looking for archetypes (do I want to be a June Cleaver mom or a Betty Draper mom?), icons and idols of "successful" motherhood can come from all over the place. And given the fact that God gives you ten months to ponder what kind of mom you're going to be (and then a lifetime of abandoning those ideals for reality), I've been thinking a lot about my mom idols of late. Who are the women who really inspire me in their approach to parenting and life? Who has tricks and tips I plan to steal from when our little one arrives on the scene? So I thought I'd take a moment to share them with you (in no particular order). This is by no means a complete list (after all, I admire so many women), but does capture some must-have traits I pray I can emulate. (Also prepare for some of these to be entirely shallow.)

- Tiny Fey. Isn't she everyone's girl crush? I had this Amex print ad of her and her daughter hanging above my desk long before I knew I was expecting a girl of my own. Tina Fey makes my list because she's wicked smart, embraces her inner nerd, seems fabulously comfortable in her own skin (has made a career of playing herself), supports other women ("Bitch is the new black") - and embraces the chaos required to make an ambitious life work. She was once quoted as saying, "being a working mom is about is about thinking ' this is impossible' and then doing it anyway." She's also not afraid to take a self-deprecating approach to her own imperfections as a person and a parent. I'm sure there are people who judged her for saying that she went back to work at NBC three weeks after having Alice because they had her under contract while she and the baby had a verbal agreement. I thought it was funny.

- Kristen Cavallo. I worked for Kristen for two years and in that time learned more by watching her than I did in four years of college. Besides being incredibly smart and talented, she taught me that being an indispensable asset to your company doesn't mean compromising your family. I know few working moms who are as tapped in and involved with their kids as she is. The woman knows about every upcoming test and paper, every aspiration and adventure her kids have. She takes the time to ask them thoughtful questions. She really listens to (and cares about) their answers. She's developed a system (with the help of family of course) that allows her to do both well in a way that few people do. Also, her enthusiasm about her kids - and the way that she respects and cultivates their individual personalities is incredible to me. If I can be half as good a mom as Kristen, my child will be a very lucky girl.

- Katherine Wintsch. Clearly, I've been fortunate in having the opportunity to work for incredible women. I've been on Katherine's team for (approaching) two years now, and last year she had a baby named Layla. I had no idea what motherhood would look like for Katherine. I watched in eager anticipation to see how she made it work. One thing that's important to note about Katherine is that she cares about people more than just about anyone I know. She's a rare hybrid of machine-like productivity and an unmatched warmth. I didn't know how it would be humanly possibly for her to accomplish as much with a baby at home as she did before. Would things grind to a halt? Would Layla come hang out in the office until midnight? Again (like so many women I admire), Katherine did a little shifting and adjusting - came in a little later so the au pair was within her hours, worked from home a few more evenings. And I'm sure it's been impossible, but a year later Katherine is kicking more tail at work with the happiest and healthiest little girl you've ever seen. Like Kristen, she's shown me that you can be an incredibly loving mom and a superstar.

- Kim Wyngaard. Kim is a stay-at-home mom with four kids. She has chaos management down to both art and science. All four of them are spirited and overflowing with joy. You can tell that their worlds are characterized by adventure and love. No small task for Kim (and her husband) to pull off, I assure you. She gives herself to them entirely, is an incredible wife and seems to enjoy all of it. She's that rare person who seems genuinely happy with her choices and (like my other heroes) has customized a system that works well for her and her family without being dogmatic about the way the rest of the world should run. At the same time, she started a business with a friend last year (which is booming), is an incredible friend and is always ready to help the people around her.   

 

I have in mind several other women to write about (including Aubrey Kleinfeld and Patty Wyngaard), but it occurs to me that this is already world's longest post - so I will write about them (and their many virtues) another day. In the mean time, I see some themes emerging in my choices. Clearly I admire women who sleep little, accomplish much, and manage to make 24 hour work like 32. Not that I'm setting myself up for failure or anything...:-) For now I'll say that I'm fortunate to have them as lightposts and examples for the way life can work. I have much to be inspired by.

Babby baggin it is cooler than it seems.

Truly random. It turns out we're a Fleurville family. Upon first "popping" Doug and I visited It's Hip to be Round (www.itshiptoberound.com), a fabulous maternity store in Carytown (www.carytown.org). Brilliantly, they have a "man room" where expectant fathers can escape racks of designer denim with stretchy waists for a bit of solitude, soda and of course, sports. This means less whining (and fewer opinions on the price of those True Religion maternity jeans) from the dad upstairs. Genius.

What's also genius, is their tasteful placement of products for men in their little retreat. T-shirts that say "my boys can swim" and of course the dude diaper bag (referenced in my last post). We have a good friend who dutifully carries his daughter's diaper bag around - one obviously picked by mom - lime green and bright blue with a nice girly print. Doug was a little more resistant to that set up. So imagine his delight to find a cool gray bag with testosterone written all over bottle pouch. It's by Fleurville, who touts "essential designs for modern parenting."

Imagine my surprise, when a few weeks later my good friend Kristen sends me this email: "Go to http://fleurville.com and pick your baby bag. It's a gift from me and KW." Never having perused their non-dude products, I had no idea what was in store. Not only are the bags carried by celebs like Heidi Klum, they're created with environmentally friendly materials, but their super cute printed fabrics resist moisture and UV rays. Super. Anyway, I picked mine out (after a friend advised me that the diaper bag should ideally match the stroller) and it's pictured above.

GET EXCITED!!!!:-) 

When you know your husband is on board...

I'll admit it. For months now, I've been giving Doug a hard time. The physical effects of pregnancy let me know quite early that this baby was for real... constant exhaustion, motion sickness day in and day out... even before my pants didn't fit, I was well aware that we were on the baby train. But for Doug, all he knew was the his normal looking wife was unhappy with him. When I compared him to Seth Rogan in Knocked Up for shirking on reading the baby books (The Expectant Father has been sitting in our garage for weeks. I'm almost six months pregnant and he's read one chapter - month four) - he scoffed. I was quite adamant that he wasn't stepping up (to be fair, he would strongly disagree with this assessment). After all, he wasn't feeling sick, he wasn't making (and rescheduling) the appointments... or studying up on which mattresses were safest... or learning about cord blood banking. All of the sudden this egalitarian relationship wasn't feeling so equal. And to him, all of the sudden, his wife was overreacting (an assessment I'd disagree with - See? We're even:-). 

But recently, I was convicted of the fact that I've probably been too hard on him. And that he's more on board than I would have guessed. His mom emailed both of us a few days ago to ask for our Christmas list. She's always ahead of the game and is assembling a master list to send to everyone in the family. I would have expected Doug to respond about some new album coming out, a jacket he's been eyeing or even some books on his wish list, but no. What did this dad-to-be say he wanted for Christmas?

"... I really want one of those diaper bags especially for guys... and one of those things that let's you strap the baby on the front..." 

That's all he asked for. No X Box, no gift cards, just baby accessories. In contrast this selfish mommy was thinking a necklace from Tiffany's and an Anthropologie gift card for when I find my way back into normal sized clothes. 

The next day he spent his day off priming and painting the nursery and putting the crib together. I guess I hadn't been giving him enough credit after all... 

Legit Mommy Blogger

Last week, I attended the Marketing to Moms conference in Chicago (remind me to tell you later about meeting Donnie Walburg, my first tween crush outside the Hard Rock Hotel). 

One of the panels was on Mommy Bloggers and one of the speakers was the brilliant mind behind blogs like Mom 101 (www.mom-101.blogspot.com) and Cool Mom Picks (www.coolmompicks.com). She totally inspired me to take my blog a tinge more seriously, so I registered with Technoratti this morning. We'll see how it goes!

Dog vs. Baby

Maybe I shouldn't say 'versus.' I should just say that we have a dog. Well, a puppy really, named Chandler. He's a one-year-old, very needy, exceptionally energetic weimaraner who gets very very upset, anxious and loud when he perceives there to be a party going on that he is not invited to. The vet says that he'll likely calm down in another year or so, but in the mean time his daily rituals include running full speed and jumping on whoever is closest to him (he thinks this is hilarious). So imagine my chagrin, when after a year of trying to break the dog of what everyone else thinks is hilarious, I'm home alone one night and he takes a running jump straight at my stomach, knocking me over (btw, this puppy now weighs about 70 pounds and is expected to top off at 90). I can just imagine this happening when I'm holding the baby, only it would end with more Chandler-chasing, yelling and perhaps a tear or two (from both the holder and the baby, now dropped on her head).

Then there's the noise issue. Currently, Chandler is crated at night to keep him out of trouble, in Doug's office at the end of the hall. Since he's got ears like (some animal that has exceptionally good hearing), if you stir in the middle of the night to go to the bathroom, or often in my case - get up at 4am to catch an early flight, a series of sounds start coming from his crate to let you know that he knows you're up and expects to be let out and played with immediately. It generally starts with the a loud thumping of his tail against the crate, happily wagging at the thought of 4am play time. And it's followed by barking, crying and the most torturous wailing you've ever heard if he's not let out shortly. I've seriously wondered if there's some type of angry elf torturing him Guantanamo style before dawn. It's excruciating. 

Now imagine this fun little scenario. Chandler goes to bed at 11pm. Around 1am, baby wakes up and starts crying. We get up to feed her and Chandler hears noise. What does he do? Starts vociferously announcing his presence to all in the house. Eventually, we get the baby back to sleep around 1am, but the dog is now wide awake. If we ignore the noise in hopes of him giving up and going back to bed, he welps and cries until the baby wakes back up again. Baby wakes up Chandler. Chandler wakes up baby. Doug and Elizabeth never sleep. Ever. Again. 

To be clear, we're not contemplating doing away with puppy. But I'm very interested to see how this plays out. I'm already having nightmares. 

Mom Guilt

My first inclination is to apologize for letting so much time elapse since I last blogged. Is it a personal problem or a female inclination to battle with guilt as a dominant paradigm? The truth is that I haven't been skipping blog time to get pedicures or take long, luxurious naps. I've been working somewhere from 65-95 hours a week. While I'm not in the office I'm catching up on the things that fell through the cracks while I was away from home... in fact, after my insano 95 hour week (there was only one) I took a "day off," but rather than sleeping did 4 loads of laundry, took out 3 bags of trash, organized the DVDs that were adorning our house caseless like sequins on a prom dress. I had the cleaning lady come and the nursery furniture delivered. I took the summer clothes out of my closet and busted out the winter clothing that might stretch over a pregnant tummy. You get the idea. It was anything, but restful... yet infinitely relaxing because things were getting crossed off my ever-growing personal to-do list that keep me up at night. It was trading one kind of exhaustion for another. And yet I'm keenly aware this is nothing on diapers and breast-feeding. Motherhood will be a whole new bag.

All that is to say that I suppose I shouldn't apologize or make excuses for why it's been so long since I blogged (though that's exactly what I just did). I've been keeping a list of things I wanted to blog about when time allowed... Millenial moms... when to tell your colleagues and your clients that you're expecting... and finally Dog Vs. Baby, all of which are things I plan to write about in the near future. 

But instead, since I'm just breaking back into this, I thought I'd share an article I read recently. I came across a Working Mother Magazine (www.workingmother.com) from October 2007 while sitting in a waiting room for the doctor this week (time to get some newer magazines Dr. Wiles!). There was one article there about guilt that really resonated. A few excerpts I thought were worth sharing.

"My default setting is guilt. It's the fodder for my before-sleep meditations and my prayers upon waking. The initial pangs struck during my first pregnancy. Gestating a human while working in television production nearly took me down. I spent much of the early part of my pregnancy in the women's room vomiting. Then I would sit in meetings while interplanetarily traveling to my uncertain future as a mother. Was it a boy or a girl - or worse, something unrecognizable? Was I up for the task of motherhood? Was there anything in the office fridge I could scarf down when this meeting adjourned? Sure, other pregnant women did better than i did, I supposed, and that just compounded my guilt of neither working to my maximum capabilities nor conducting a perfect pregnancy."

Man can I relate to that. Who knows. Maybe retrospect will show that no balls seemed to drop (besides the lack of personal care like make-up application and blow-drying my hair). Maybe my boss and colleagues think I'm doing it all. All I know is that the part of me that used to work at home til midnight when necessary conks out around 10:30p and my "no caffeine while pregnant" rule gave way to a two-a-day policy when I found that my will power was no match for pregnancy fatigue. Just like the author, I'm neither the perfect worker (which I don't mention to my colleagues for fear that they'll feel slighted) nor the perfect mom-to-be (which I don't mention to my mom-girlfriends, most of whom don't work). No one said being a working mom (or mom-to-be) would be easy!

Think it'll get better after baby gets here? Probably not...

"Five years and three babies later, most working moms I speak to feel as guilty as I continue to. It's still a struggle. There are never enough hours in the day, and the ancient battle of 'when I'm at work I think I should be at home, and when I'm at home I think I should be at work' rages on. But we can't be everything to everyone at the same time. We can be great moms on some days and great employees on many days, just not every single day. We're clearly more productive and successful than ever before, so repeat after me: I will get over the guilt. Its not just about making a living. It's about making a life. It's time for us to count our blessings, not just tally up our shortcomings. Otherwise, we'll miss the fruit of our labors."

Looks like there's a lot to figure out in time. Stay tuned!

Hi-Lo: Also known as the Ambush and the Thumbsucker

On Friday I had, what I thought was a blood test, to screen for Down Syndrome and some other birth defect with numbers attached (13-18-something?). I told Doug he didn't need to come because I expected the sum total of the appointment to involve needle poking and he's not the biggest fan of blood. 

Imagine my surprise when I get there, am taken into a dark room and told to drop my pants. "Where are you taking the blood from?!?!?!?!," I asked in shock. She didn't laugh. Didn't even crack a smile. Tough room.

Turns out it was an ultrasound AND a blood test (thaaaaaat explains the request to strip). So for the next 45 minutes I was prodded with the magic wand and pictures of the baby were taken from every possible angle. I sat in awkward silence after I realized that the humorless ultrasound tech didn't like it when I talked. "What am I looking at?" Silence. "Is that the baby's leg?" Silence. Occasionally a grunt or a one word response. I got the point and stopped asking questions. She was not a fan.

At one point I got really sad, because no one was there with me - and for the first time it looked like a real baby. Our first ultrasound revealed a lima bean with a fluttering white spot the doctor called it's heart. The second ultrasound showed us a snowman, with a ball for the head, a ball for the body and little twigs I think were arms. This time it was an unmistakable baby - a silhouette complete with forehead, nose, mouth and that's when I saw it... a clenched fist that met it's face. That's right, the baby was sucking it's thumb. At least, that's what it looked like. I didn't ask (as at that point I realized silence was golden with this woman), but when I read on my weekly pregnancy update that babies start sucking their thumbs around now. How flipping cool is that? 

So, choking back both excitement and tears at being the only one to witness this miracle, I fought through my unexpected ultrasound and took my pictures home. Our "love at first site" ultrasound frame has now been updated (Doug reminds me that the caption is now falsehood as the current pic represents love at third site) and when I check out the photo staring back at me I see a perfect little face and the outline of a hand. How cool:-).

None Like Me - Nooma Lessons on Motherhood

Last night at small group we watched Nooma 018. It was called Name. And the whole teaching was about how we compare ourselves to others. Wish we were a little more like that person, or wonder what it would take to do this as well as she does. The thrust of the video is that God has created each of us to be unique - to have our own individual path that's unlike anyone elses. It got me thinking about all of the labels that we voluntarily coop to explain our identities and make sense of our worlds. It also got me thinking about the Mommy Wars (I know, a departure it seems) and all the different kinds of mom distinctions women adopt. Stay-at-home Moms verses Working Moms, Slacker Moms verses Alpha Moms (I know I mentioned these in my last post). And especially as a new mom there's a sense that all of these types have already been established and we have only to choose which club to join, which name to assign ourselves. And as motherhood does, in a sense feel like a sorority you spend nine months pledging, there is a little bit of identity insecurity when it comes to figuring out who you'll be as a mother. 

But, that goes in the face of this belief I have in a God that is infinitely creative. Who has made each of us to be completely distinct, no matter how much we may have in common. Who weaves together our DNA and our experiences, our talents and our brokenness into something that is utterly and completely different than anyone else. And when I think about it like that, I realize that I will likely be a different mom than any other in the world. There won't be a mom exactly like me before or after. It kind of makes the mommy wars seem silly, doesn't it. 

Another thought for the day inspired by Nooma. The new one is about the feminine aspects of God (bless you Rob Bell). And I just wanted to share an excerpt:

"We didn't have anything to do with our birth. We are all here because some woman somewhere gave us life. Her pain, her effort, for our life. And when a mother gives like that to a child, she is showing us what God is like. But sometimes this part of God's nature is overlooked. A lot of us are comfortable with male imagery of God. But what about female imagery for God? Is God limited to a gender? Or doe God transcend and yet include what we know as male and female? Maybe if we were more aware of the feminine imagery of God we would have a better understanding of who God is and what God is like."  

The Guessing Game

So at 13 weeks, 20 weeks feels like an eternity away. Why does it take so long to find out if it's a boy or a girl? I've heard that there's a 3D Sonogram they can do at 15 weeks (i.e. two weeks from now for those of you not so great in the math department) that can tell you super early what you're having. Technically they do it for medical necessity (i.e. old moms), but I'm wondering if I could finagle my way into one... maybe fake some bizarro symptoms I read on WebMD to encourage them to do one? Ethical? No, but MAN am I impatient! 

There's no point in picking out nursery stuff or even a stroller until we know for sure. (Yes, yes, so many people wait and just go for green, yellow and orange, but that's just not me.) So a certain degree of the excitement about the baby feels like it's on the other side of October 1. So much of having a baby is about living in the present and the future. The now and the then. And the now is just a sneak preview (both of the joy and the pain). For the antsy in us, we're ready to be a little more then-minded... so we can picture ballet tutus or dinosaurs. Will the baby's style icon be Suri or Kingston? 

So, I did what any Gen Y mom would do. I consulted an oracle... better known as my Facebook community. Upon asking my friends what their best-guess, gut-reaction, wives-tale instincts were telling them. The results are attached... 

- 7 votes for "it's definitely a boy" and

- 7 votes for "I'm certain it's a girl"

And two parents to be who are as clueless about gender guesses as we are about the impending parenthood... Blast... 

Cankles and the So-So Miracle Massage

It's amazing how you take things for granted until you lose them (if only temporarily). For example, in retrospect, I've always had really nice ankles. I never thought to have them bronzed, or even really compared them to the junction between other people's feet and legs, but it was nice to have this thin point when the calf narrowed and the foot began. Yep, looking back I had ankles to be proud of. Upon getting pregnant (and much sooner than one with normal ankles would expect) I noticed one day that those nice ankles I'd always enjoyed had been replaced with... wait for it... brace for the horror... CANKLES. That's right, my ankles had swollen and all of the sudden I couldn't see those dainty ankles bones anymore.

I started to panic.

What if they don't come back? What if this is what my ankles look like from now? Shortness of breath. Absolute fear. Same day I went for my first maternity massage. I was most excited about the maternity massage table I'd heard about with cut-outs for your growing stomach and tah-tahs. Literally, there are holes there where your more sticky-outty parts can go. Genius. The places without these tables (like Red Door Salon - www.reddoorspas.com) require you to lay on your side the entire time - which doesn't sound particularly relaxing to me. The massage therapist warned me up front that this massage was going to be a little... different. She can only do light pressure (I like tough pressure), she massages the palms and soles of the feet, but not the fingers or toes (wha?), there were certain pressure points she had to avoid, and the weirdest of all... some weird therapy on the legs that isn't massaging at all. At least she told me beforehand. I would have been seriously disconcerted if she's started doing this strange thing on my legs that definitely wasn't rubbing, but rather felt like she was building something. She started at the ankles and would touch them for a second, pause, put her hands in a circle around my legs a few inches up, pause, then up, pause, then up, pause. It was the massage equivalent to chinese water torture. I wondered at points what she was doing? I guessed that if I opened my eyes I might find her doing some sort of bizarro Native American breathing or voodoo. Were those long pauses her filing her nails? It didn't feel bad, but it didn't feel like a massage either. I was confused.

I'm rambling. I know. Sufficed to say it was weird. 

Until, I stood up after the massage, looked down and for the first time in a month saw.... (drum roll)... MY ANKLES! My real, actual, normal sized ankles. I asked her what she did and she said that during pregnancy the swelling/bloating in the ankles and legs is very superficial, and she literally pushed the excess water out of my ankles, up my legs and into my system. I don't know how it works, but it went from weird to miracle.

Vanity? 

I'm sure.

But I'm excited nonetheless:-) 

Why I Heart Dr. Wiles

So finding the right OBGYN is obviously of major importance. What I didn't know is how coveted a good one is. I have another pregger friend right now (Patty) who was drilling me for doc details as she's looking for someone new. And another friend of mine (Kristen) who's thinking about babyville and she was asking for recos as well. I found us talking about Girlie Docs the same way we talk about hair dressers: personality and results. That said, I don't want to make it sound like MY fabulous doctor is just a fun baby catcher. He's the real deal. Duke University, Got his MD in 81 (around the same time my mom was doing her own lamaze breathing to push me out:-) He specializes in high risk obstetrics, which seems like a good thing to me. If he can handle the 63 year-old mamas and the women who have been told to just say nooooo to more babies, surely he can handle this run of the mill 27 year old mom. 

We've seen him twice - and I love, love, love how chill he is. I guess everyone looks for different things. Some probably want someone UBER thorough, cautious and conservative. A lot of women I've talked to prefer a female OBGYN for comfort reasons. That's fair. At our first appointment Doug did comment that it was kind of weird watching another man feel up his wife:-), but let's be honest. Those appointments aren't comfortable no matter WHO is doing the probing. So doc gender doesn't make a huge difference to me. What I love about Dr. Wiles is that he's credentialed enough that I'm confident he knows what he's doing. But he's easy going enough that he keeps me from worrying about things. Having a baby could be majorly stressful. There's about a thousand things you can do when you're pregnant (Icy Hot Pads anyone?) to damage the baby. Someone there to tell you those things aren't the end of the world is a welcome voice in the room to me. My boss Katherine tells the story that her mom was asking the nurses to bring an ash tray for her Marlboro's when she was in the delivery room. It was the 70s - they didn't know! And Katherine's about the most amazing person you'll ever meet. So if she turned out okay, surely my picking up Subway one day isn't the end of the world, right? That's my hope anyway:-)

Talked to my mom this weekend and she's pretty convinced that she had three miscarriages in the 80s because the neighbors put pesticides on their rose bushes. Seriously people, life is too short to worry that our neighbors horticulture choices are robbing us of our children. Not to pick on my mom - I just prefer to assume that everything will be fine until it's not. That philosophy has worked out well so far.... 

P.S. No Ben Gay for Baby

I was using Icy Hot patches on my back, since I'm temporarily incapacitated with back spasms, but evidently that entails absorbing chemicals into my blood stream (and by extension the little one's blood stream). So no more of that. I seriously hope that hasn't caused any damage. The nurse at my obgyn said, "I doubt two icy hot patches will cause any harm." Just what a nervous mom-to-be is looking for in reassurance... doubt. Say some prayers! 

Working the System

There's a new boutique in Short Pump called Weebsworld (www.weebsworld.com) that a friend of mine recommended. Evidently they have a scale you can weigh the stroller on and a pathway built into the store that has different terrain so you can try the strollers on cobblestone, asphalt, sand, etc. How cool?

Speaking of strollers, I have a brilliant plan to work the system:-). I got an email from Amazon with a promotion their doing, where if you register on Amazon and get $700+ in products from there (either from you or gift givers) you get 6 months of Seventh Generation Diapers for free. First of all, who wants to register on Amazon? I can't even begin to talk about why that's not fun... but they do carry the Bugaboo stroller I want, which alone would qualify me for free diapers. So I'm thinking about creating a registry for that one item for the free diapers, since we'd be spending the money on that stroller no matter where we buy it from. I think it's a totally brilliant plan:-). Even if Amazon doesn't have special terrain where you can try it out...

The difference between boys and girls...

Or perhaps I should have said the difference between moms-to-be and dads-to-be. I've heard that a woman becomes a mother when she finds out she's pregnant. A man becomes a father when he sees his baby for the first time. That's an unfortunate piece of misalignment there I think. I get it... it comes real for mom when she's nauseous, sleeping all the time and gaining weight. It would be difficult to ignore those little facts, not to mention to growing list of no-nos she must suddenly adopt (no advil! no caffeine! no soft cheeses! and of course no alcohol!). While I'd disagree that you're insta-mom when you find out this list, you have daily reminds built into your life that your body is no longer yours alone. And that there's lots to do to prepare for this little blessing. It's a little different for dads-to-be. Suddenly their wives are complaining more than usual, can't stay up as late to hang out on the weekends and well, that's probably where their awareness stops. So I get why it's harder for them to feel all parental so soon. But that doesn't mean the need to prepare is any less great. 

Why do I mention this? Doug has been a little, shall we say, less than eager to read the baby books. First I got What to Expect When You're Expecting, which I can admit is a little intimidating given the fact that the paperback version is longer than the King James Bible. After about a month of asking him to read 30 pages (months one and two) I went from asking, to nagging to tossing the book at him in the morning with loving little phrases like, "Hey deadbeat dad, read this," and "Oh my gosh, you're totally Seth Grogan from Knocked Up. He wouldn't read the baby books either." He invoked the "dads become dads when they see the baby" line, but I'm not feeling it. Then friends of ours recommended a different book (Pregnancy Week by Week) and he decided that he wasn't going to read What to Expect because clearly this other book (the one that we didn't have) was better. So I bought it. And it's still sitting in my car... I'll let you know he decides his parental education should begin:-)

In other news, I've wrenched by back. Actually I wrenched it last summer trying to lift a box of books that should have been relegated to The Hulk for lifting and couldn't walk for a week and a half. It's been acting up the last few weeks as my top/front area has definitely expanded (that's a euphemism for "I had to go buy new bras this weekend" for all you boys reading) and that's put more pressure on my lower back. I tried going to work yesterday to find that it took me quite some tine to stand up and then a slow shuffle walk to get just about anywhere. I came home close to 5, sat on the chair and found that I was stuck there for the next 5 hours, unable to move more than an inch in any given direction without spasming pain. At one point (Doug was at a meeting) I decided I had to go to the bathroom and spent the next 30 minutes moving the ten feet to the bathroom. It went like this, "move an inch, spasm, scream and cry. move a couple more inches, repeat. eventually find myself sliding out of the chair and onto the floor, more spasming and crying. then army crawling (stomach and elbows) on the floor to the hall bathroom." If it wasn't so utterly painful it would have been hilarious. So I'm off to a chiropractor this morning to get a little help. Fingers crossed that he, like the massage therapist, won't reject me because many won't help a pregnant woman before she's 12 weeks along. We shall see...

P.S. Promise the pic wasn't a political statement... when you google "dad awkwardly holding baby" Dubya is what comes up:-)

11 weeks...

Evidently the baby is the size of a fig this week and is almost fully formed. His/her (perhaps I'll call the baby "shim" until I know for sure) hands will soon open and close into fists, tiny teeth are beginning to appear under his/her (shis?) gums and some of his/her (sheir?) bones are beginning to harden. She's already busy kicking and stretching, and his/her (shit's?) tiny movements are so effortless they look like water ballet (I should go see a water ballet so I know what that means). These movements will become more frequent as her body grows and becomes more developed and functional. I won't feel the baby's acrobatics for another month or two - nor will I notice the hiccuping that is almost certainly happening now that they baby's diaphragm is forming. 

So that's what I've learned from pregnancy week by week... a few other random thoughts.

On the fact that having a baby is kind of surreal. When I first found out I was preggers it was too insane to imagine the birth or the person that was being formed. So how did I relate to the news? My inner decorator connected before my inner mom. I went online and started looking at baby retailers for nursery ideas. I've been wondering if that's strange, or perhaps some reflection of consumer culture that rather than envisioning life with the actual baby I started thinking about the baby's room? Or was that just a baby step (no pun intended) towards nesting for parenthood? Who knows... anyway, I had the crib and gender-dependent bedding picked out before baby names. Wondering if I should feel conflicted about that. Anyway, a few things I learned during my baby exporatory mission: 

- Modernnursery.com is a great place to start if you don't want your baby to be born among fluffy-pink-cup-cakiness or animal themes. Not to hate on those things, but I'm pretty sure the baby won't notice either way, so I kind of want a room that goes with the rest of the house. That being said, we might have to sacrifice the baby's college education to afford some of that stuff, so I'm going to have to find a way to supplement with more affordable look-alikes from discount places like Walmart and Target.

- Land of Nod is awesome. Expensive, yes, but those are nurseries I can picture in my house. Plus they have strollers that look like they belong in MoMa. That seems like a good thing to me.

- Pottery Barn Kids is cute, but seems overpriced for what is it. All of the nursery bedding looks relatively kiddish to me, and maybe it's just my unnurturing nature (hopefully the hormones will deliver that gene), but the stuff just isn't my style. What I did love at PB Kids were the upholstered rockers, which look gorgeous on the website and come with to die for printed fabrics you can choose from. So nice looking that I was contemplating paying the ransom they were asking for it. Until I went into an actual PB Kids store and saw one in person. Up close it's kind of flimsy and cheap looking. We sat in it and it's not super comfortable. Overall, a big let down. 

- Target had me hopeful, especially because they have a baby line from Dwell that I'm all over aesthetically. Too bad when I read the online reviews most people had given the line 1 star and begged fellow shoppers not to purchase mod furniture that falls apart, comes scratched up and never lives up to the beautiful pictures. Major disappointment.

- Babies R Us. I can't even go in that place. I break out in hives. It's overwhelming and feels unmanageable. I might be as frightened of Babies R Us as I am of childbirth. The entire store seems to shout, "You know nothing stupid parent to be! You don't know which of these 200 breast pumps is good or why! You don't know the difference between all 800 strollers!" Who wants to put themselves through that? I will definitely not being registering there.

- Walmart. The store experience is much better than most would think and the smaller department is far less overwhelming. Obviously, you want more options than they have on the floor, so I started sifting through the dot.com store to find a lot of cute furniture! They had a chair that looked IDENTICAL to the Pottery Barn rocker, only instead of $1,500 it was $299 (and after seeing the PB chair in the flesh I'm sure the WM version is as good quality-wise). The stuff I liked best was by a line called BabyMod, which unfortunately is only sold online and seems to be sold out of everything. Though to be fair, I can see why. It looks like the stuff on Modernnursery.com for thousands less and has good consumer reviews. I'll be checking back to see when/if they get more in. 

All for now!

"Fear Factor" - Also known as "What Not to Watch When You're Expecting"

Ever heard of that show called "The Baby Borrowers?" Basically, they take a teenage couple that at some point commented that they wanted to have a baby, and they borrow infants, then toddlers, then pre-teens, then the elderly to get a feel of what it would "really" be like to raise a family. This show is intended to scare 15 year olds into not having premarital sex, or at least not pursue parenthood before they're ready. Too bad I'm 27 and I gotta be honest... this show has frightened me right along side them. They should have mentioned in the opening credits that the show you could anxiety for pregnant women. Eesh!

 

What to expect in week 10.

Okay, according to babyfit.com, I should be gaining weight by now (thank God there's an excuse:-), but no baby bump just yet. It's expected to be an emotional phase, "a time when you may not feel as excited about your pregnancy as you think you should. Not to worry. This is normal!" Okay, two things to address here...

I'm really hesitant to blame anything on being emotional because of the pregnancy because I feel like the second I do my husband has license to write off anything and everything as "oh you're just pregnant." I might be mad about something totally legit and get the "crazy pregnant girl" reaction. So I'm keeping the news that "it's an emotional time" close to the vest. I think that's a totally brilliant plan. Might be hard to keep going for long given the fact that I had a complete and utter emo breakdown last week when my flight was delayed (I think I sobbed, "why is this happening to me?" at one point:-), but we'll keep that news under wraps as long as possible.

Now for the less than excited part. I wouldn't say that I'm less than excited. I'm definitely excited. Looking forward to February. Feeling incredibly blessed that God would think I'd be up to such a challenge. But it still feels a little surreal. Seeing the baby's picture helped. Watching the little white light (the baby's heartbeat) flash brightly at a frenetic pace made it feel more real. Telling people made it feel real. But I guess it's inching towards real. I have yet to feel that "I'm a mom" feeling and I'm interested to hear when that happens. I've known people who made a conscientious decision, "We're ready to be parents now. Let's have a baby" and for them I imagine that the second they find out their pregnant their on the road to their chosen destiny of mommyhood. When it's a surprise it feels a little more like you've been drafted, but have yet to report for duty. Is that bad?