I’ve officially moved my keyboard closer to the edge of my desk so I can do ‘the lean’. Whenever I try to lean forward to type, Baby Bean does a little left/right jab. At this rate, by the time I hit 8 months, I’ll have the keyboard on my belly.
You’re going to laugh at me but I also have my recycling bin turned upside down so I can prop my legs up throughout the day. It’s under the table so only housekeeping knows but I’m trying to reduce edema as much as possible.
I haven’t seen it more than once, and that was due to me wearing my sling back heels on a day I knew I was going to be walking the equivalent of a 5K race. I know. I know. Vanity will only get me into trouble.
Still, I think it’s important to watch my salt intake and keep my limbs elevated lest I desire to look like Violet when she turned into a blueberry in Willy Wonka.
My Cheerios with banana and cold milk cravings are subsiding. Of course, this happens after I buy the gigantic tub size Cheerios. Actually, I’m still enjoying Cheerios just not with milk and bananas.
I’m moving towards oranges now. Oranges and Orange Juice with Seltzer seem to appease me. I think the garlic phase is going too but after that dizzy, nauseous, I’m-going-to-be-sick period, I’ve decided to play it safe and avoid garlic until after the pregnancy and/or breastfeeding.
Yup, I’ve made up my mind; I’m going to try breastfeeding. I’m not sure how long I’ll do it but I’m going to try. The positives outweigh the negatives. Of course my mom, I love her to death, continues to put the fear of Jesus in me but telling me she believes I will not be able to give my child the nourishment she needs. She means this out of love folks. In Chinese, parents show there love by being critical and thinking the worst. I’ve added this to the list that includes:
-I’m getting too big too quickly.
-I’m going to get stretch marks. (A fib now and then is warranted, mom.)
-I’m going to need a belly sling.
-My bikini maternity underwear and the low rise maternity pants I bought are going to constrict my baby.
Of course, I dispel my mom’s well-meaning comments but then rush to the nearest computer to Google everything about it.
After speaking to my doc and to several moms I’ve been told that although a few people have feeding issues, many are due to lack of nutrition and time constraints.
The general rule is the body produces what your body needs. It’s supply and demand. If I don’t pump or feed regularly, my body will start to dry the wells.
I’ll be honest, I really prefer to go to the doctor by myself or with my husband but my mom has been so desperate to go with me, I agreed to let her go to my next exam when I will have my GCT performed. The reason I’m reluctant to bring my mom is that my mom has caused me to worry so much with some of her statements, I’m afraid she’ll bring something else up at the docs office I didn’t think about. It's probably in my head but she has a knack for bringing things up I would never think would be an issue. It could be as simple as, “Doctor, why does her stomach look like the shape of an olive.” To “Honey, I don’t like your doctor’s sense of style. Navy slacks with a green pullover sweater is a no-no.”
I don’t know what special powers moms get over their kids but the silliest statements can have so much more credence coming from your parental figure. The next thing you know, I’m sitting in my car driving home questioning my doctor’s choice of clothing. I suppose my daughter can look forward to my crazy statements as well.
My husband knows this and tries to remind me to take things in perspective. This is normally hard to do but add my pregnancy brain and it’s even that much more harder.
I have made a decision that I only want my husband in the delivery room. My mom and my MIL, however thoughtful and loving they may be, only cause my blood pressure to rise. I’m not even concerned about my goods being on display for the world. I just don’t need to have me or my husband keep our moms in check.
I know some people have written birth plans but I’m leaning away from this. For the most part, my doc and I are on the same page. As long as my husband knows what I want and can be my body guard with family and other outside influences, I should be fine.
I’m probably being unrealistic but I really want those first moments to be with my husband, child and me. I generally don’t keep things from people and are usually open but this is something I want to keep between us, the family.
Call me over-protective. I know as soon as this baby is born, she’s shared with the world and I just want a few moments with her, alone. Hospital staff don’t count.
Note: Friends have already told me that I say this now but when it’s 2am and she’s not sleeping and she’s crying and fussing, I’m going to want everyone from my neighbor to the national coast guard to come to my aid. I know I’m romanticizing motherhood, especially in the early stages but give me a break. I just mustered up the strength to read the chapter on active labor and absorbed it without getting too neurotic and paranoid about what happens to my pelvis and other parts.