Monday, April 28, 2008

9 months, 1 carryall


I have officially hit the point in a pregnancy where you’ve been pregnant for so long, you don’t recall what your body was like pre-conception.

This realization happened this morning as I was hauling my tummy out of an elevator. As the elevator became more and more crowded, it dawned on me I couldn’t do my usual make yourself skinnier move. You know the move. You angle yourself and suck in your tummy and contract yourself.

Now, if I try to contract myself, I pretty much stay the same shape. My belly is its own entity. Miss Bean is Miss Bean hanging out in my body. It’s shared space.

I’ve been thinking a lot about Miss Bean. What does she look like? What is her personality? Is she more like her dad? Is she more like her mom? I know all these answers will come soon enough. It’s has just been so long since I’ve visibly seen her so my imagination runs wild. Plus she does like to bop around in my belly. She particularly likes my ribs on the right hand side.

Miss Bean, your dad spent all Saturday/Sunday setting up your crib. He started late at night around 11pm and didn’t finish until 4am. Your dad has a knack for starting things at odd hours. You’ll find out soon enough. Anywho, he finished it at 4am after two snack breaks and a reinstallation of your bed frame.

I must say you have a snazzy bed. It’s pretty grown up, I must say. I hope you like it. As soon as we finish setting up your bed, I’ll post a picture. Oh, we’ve moved from pink to yellow bedding now too.

Your dad and I are still debating your stroller. We have the snap and go for your immediate use but we’re debating a travel system versus a lightweight stroller. I am leaning towards an under 17 lb model. Your dad wants the travel system but I think 30 lbs is too heavy.

Of course, your dad and I, in true style, have taken to the streets and have gotten reviews from everyone we’ve met with a stroller. So far I have a majority of votes on a light weight model. Your dad though has the vote of a seasoned couple with two kids who loves their travel system.

I think your dad is slowly siding with me. Honestly, 30 lbs before you even get to sit on it is too heavy for your mom to use in a cramped city.

Your mom was completely unaware of all the equipment and gear you would need, Miss Bean. Honestly, I didn’t know we’d need so much stuff. Your dad thinks slinging you around in a papoose is fine. I’m sure this was back in the days but in a city where people bump and push and shove, I’m not too keen on the idea. Still he wants one, a manly one so we hope to get a Bjorn for your dad. You’ll get to be close to your dad’s chest. You’ll be all snug and comfy.

Back to your current carry-all, your mom has been having fun trying to figure out what limb is what. Sometimes my belly tightens up and I can feel what feels like your head or it could be your butt. I have no clue what is what now. If you can throw me a bone so I know if I’m rubbing your head or your tush.

Friday, April 25, 2008

Pregnancy Dream #523


I've had two bizarro dreams of late. They were back to back. The most recent involved my husband and I getting into an argument in front of my doctor and his medical staff. It was so nutty that the staff couldn't help laugh at the insanity. I myself, in the dream, was so hurt and angry, I didn't know what to do.

Apparently, I was hurt that hubby said I was too big and would never be the same woman he knew before the pregnancy. I was so angry and hurt. He was doubly angry because he felt he shouldn't have to lie and I shouldn't react like that. He felt it wasn't like he said he wouldn't love me or didn't love me. He was merely saying that I wouldn't be the same girl he knew before.

We left the office, which was in a strange building and I spent the entire time trying to navigate us through strange halls and elevators and tunnels to our car. Since he had no sense of direction, he kept relying on me to get us out of the building but I was so hurt that I couldn't think straight. I finally got him to the car and then realized I left my coat with my id and wallet at the doctor's office.

I had to make my way back through the scary building by myself while he waited for me in the car. I started making my way through the building and all these strange men started appearing out of the woodwork. Elevators would open to reveal empty shafts. Sheetrock walls would appear out of nowhere cutting me off from my intended route.

I tried hard not to panic and be rational. Meanwhile in the back of my head I pictured my husband getting irate that he was waiting for so long. He began to stew and boil over because we were still technically fighting.

Just as I made it to the lobby, the main entrance was blocked by some avant garde sculpture artist and his works. I had to weave my way out of his artwork towards the door while a strange man in a wrinkly suit chased me from behind. Then I woke up. It was a nutty dream.

70 days left


Give or take, I suppose.

I'm officially grouchy but hanging in there. My lower back aches more. I am beginning to feel the pressures of preparing the nursery, buying supplies and packing my hospital bag. I'm also planning the meals to freeze for the first few weeks.

Most importantly, the idea of pushing a human being out of a very sensitive area is scaring the bejesus out of me, especially the possibility of tearing and an episiotomy.

"Don't worry. After the drugs you won't feel it."

That's not what scares me. What scares me is doing #1 and #2 and the horizontal mambo later on. I'm fairly certain I can withhold doing the mambo for a while but #1 and #2 are bodily functions even my fetus is doing right now. It's going to be inevitable.

"Do not do anything without your peri bottle."

Trust me, I've heard that next to the anesthesiologist, my peri bottle will be my next best friend. If I have to, I'll sling that thing around like it was my water bottle.

The food preparation is a new thing that started today. It dawned on me that I will probably desire home cooked food the first few weeks. My husband's idea of taking care of dinner is ordering take out. That's nice on occasion but I'm a home cooked meal gal.

Last night, I had a late evening meeting and didn't come home until 8pm. Usually, even if I have a late meeting, I go home and prepare supper. It's just the norm. Hubby could be home. He will walk the dogs but he generally doesn't make the meals.

I was so pooped last night though. We compromised. While he was at the gym, I made some fresh pasta sauce and prepared some ground beef.

I then took a nice shower and let the massager run on my lower back. The massaging part of the shower is the best thing a pregnant girl could have.

By the time I was basting myself with the cocoa butter and vitamin e, hubby started the water for the pasta and took a shower.

I set the table and when he came out of the shower, he made the pasta and served dinner.

It made dinner less of a one man show and I felt it wasn't a chore. I was beginning to feel this was a bit one sided.

My normal routine as of late is as follows:

Come home
Walk dogs
Feed dogs
Move car (if necessary)
Check mail
Prepare recyclables for hubby
Prepare load of laundry for hubby
Prepare dinner
Set table (or ask hubby to set table depending on where he is)
Serve dinner
Pack lunches
Prepare dishwasher

Don't get me wrong; hubby does help out. He takes the dogs in the AM (most days) and late night. He does the laundry (I fold he does everything else). He takes out the recyclables and the trash. He even cleans Z-girl's stinky ears (allergies).

That's when it dawned on me I should make a ton of stuff, freeze it with instructions for hubby to help me since I'm just getting bigger and more tired and for after the baby is born.

I know I can't do my regular routine after the baby is born so whatever he can do would be great.

So far I have ideas such as making a ton of pasta sauce and mac and cheese sauce and freezing it. That way, hubby only needs to pull the bag out, stick it in some boiling water, make the pasta and serve.

I also plan to make chicken rollatinis and tenders and stash those in the freezer for baking later.

I was thinking about even making his favorite chocolate chip cherry coolies, shaping them into balls and stashing them in the freezer. When he is ready for a treat, he can grab a few, pop them in the oven and voila fresh oven baked cookies from scratch.

So I started making my list of meals and stuff I should stash in the freezer and pantry. I'm going to make an extra batch of pancake mix so we can have fresh pancakes for breakfast. I'll also stash some frozen berries so we can have berry sauce with the pancakes.

I know. I know. I'm probably going overboard. I just know I'll get extra cranky by the 5th day of diner food. Plus, it probably will be cheaper for me to pre-make meals than pay for take out all the time.

Am I being too Martha Stewart? Mothra has been gone for a while so I guess this is a sign I may be resorting back to my crazy self soon. Lord help my husband and daughter. lol.

Wednesday, April 23, 2008

If you give a pregnant woman a cookie...


Today was a good day. Well the day was nutty but the end of the work day was nice. Why?

Well, as I waddled my way to the bus stop, I realized that I had 3/4 of an oatmeal cookie wrapped up in my purse. I had a piece yesterday after my lunch but forgot to take it out.

It was better than finding forgotten money!

The funny thing is, I never eat a whole cookie, not those behemoth cookies. After my little after work treat, I still have 1/2 a cookie left. :-)

It's good to know it is the small things in life that make me happy.

Pregnancy obsession:
Oatmeal raisin cookies
Mozzarella (Fresh)

Thursday, April 17, 2008

Saved money but increased aggravation


I’m not one to recommend or rant about a company or organization unless it is something that is either spectacularly phenomenal or horrendous. Unfortunately I nothing positive to say about Cigna’s Tel-Drug service.

I used to be an Oxford member. They used Medco for their mail in drug service. You saved on repeat medications. Customer service was courteous and informative and delivery was always within 3 days.

Cigna has comparable savings but their customer service and delivery is less than desirable.

I first ordered my prenatal vitamins through their mail in service in December. They sent me the incorrect medication at the end of January. Thank goodness I had samples to tied me over. They gave me such a hard time, I wound up crying to the nurse at my doctor’s office who called them immediately to remedy the problem. Unfortunately Cigna’s error cost me not only my time and my first pregnancy emotional breakdown but also $50.

Now, with the refill, I received a call to remind me to reorder. I thought this might be a good sign that the horrendous service a few months back was a fluke. I immediately reordered my vitamins.

Three weeks later, I’m still waiting for my vitamins and I’m completely out. Thankfully, the mix up from December/January led to me having another prenatal vitamin saved as a backup.

I called Cigna and the representative tells me that someone cancelled my order. I asked who and when and why I wasn’t notified. She places me on hold and then comes back and says she doesn’t have that information but Cigna would pay for next day shipping to ensure I get my vitamins as quickly as possible. Standard shipping takes 14 days minimum.

I tell her nicely that this is the worst service I’ve ever had and that if this medication was my heart medication or diabetes supplies, Cigna would be in serious violation of patient safety.

She processes my request immediately and then tells me with next day shipping, I should expect my order within 7-10 days as it takes the pharmacy a while to process my order.

Let this be a lesson for anyone thinking of using Cigna Tel-med, do so at your own risk. If it is a serious medication, don’t try to save money. Go to your local pharmacy. You will save yourself time, aggravation , money lost because of silly errors and possibly additional health issues.

Pregnancy Dream #322


Hubby and I are fighting off zombies. Hubby is in the bathroom fighting off a zombie.

I run down the hall to the bedroom and poke the bed and find three zombies awaiting under the sheets. I get up. For some reason I show them my rosary beads. They look at me, look at each other and continue to move towards me. I run to the bathroom looking for something to bash them in the head because I recall in the movies, you are supposed to bash zombies in the head.

I look at hubby and he’s still fighting off the bathroom zombie. I can’t find anything and head down the hall again to search for something when I see the three zombies grab a large black pipe. The cooperate together to carry this pipe and move towards me.

I wake up and begin to search my brain for a zombie movie where the zombies were intelligent enough to cooperate to attack a non-zombie. Seriously, can anyone think of a zombie movie where the zombies were smart?

Thursday, April 10, 2008

Victoria's Secret is bringing sexy back to functional boobs


I’m researching breastfeeding and breastfeeding equipment. Since clothing is on my mind, I’ve been thinking about nursing bras and tops.

We’ve got some great options nowadays but the bras themselves are less than attractive.

I asked my husband a while ago why didn’t Victoria’s Secret make nursing bras. He responded, “They don’t want their clientele to know a possible consequence for their actions while wearing their lingerie.”

Good point, I suppose, but someone at VS must have heard me because they now sell nursing bras and tops!

They are pretty cute too.

Of course this new find is not sitting well with my hubby. Apparently, the cute leopard bra is just too sexy for his daughter’s eyes. “Marketers are going to inundate her with sexual references at an early age. There is no need to assist them. A sensible white nursing camisole will be fine."

By the way, I could only hope my stomach snaps back to such a sexy state as the model's. Couldn't VS hire real moms for their nursing photo shoots?

I'm bringing sexy back... in the fall/winter


Miss Bean, refrain from reading this until you are well into your adult years.

I’ve hit the stage in my pregnancy where I cannot recognize myself in the mirror. Ok, I can recognize myself, not my belly. Could my belly expand that much? Could it expand even more? Holy cow, this thing is now its own entity.

I’m at a point where I kind of feel bad for my hubby. I’m sure he really misses the pre-pregnant pg. So far I’ve been pretty practical with my attire. I look for inexpensive, well made clothing that isn’t too binding or too tent-like. At home, I’m lounging in his pjs and camisole top. Now, that sounds cute when you’re not pregnant. When you are, you sort of resemble Tony Soprano in a wife beater; at least that’s how I feel somedays. At night, I’ve been wearing nightshirts or nightgowns. They aren’t prudish but they aren’t the typical slips and babydolls I usually wear. In short, I’m not dressing to impress.

It’s not that I don’t think the pregnant body isn’t marvelous. It is. It just isn’t sexy for me. Still, I’m beginning to feel like I’m neglecting my husband’s visuals. I’m now consistently wearing flats or Sabrina heels. I’m not wearing cute curvy outfits. Heck, even when I bounce around dancing around the house, the moves are less Chicago and more Hairspray. Maybe I should get some cute maternity lingerie. The problem is I know that although the spirit is there, effort is a bit lacking. By the time I put something on like this

I know I’ll be so winded and tired, I’ll need a nap. Let’s be honest, I’m going to need a nap before we do the deed. Let’s say my nap refreshes me, I’m going to be hungry when I wake up. So I’ll snack. Then I’ll have to go to the bathroom. Then I'll want to clean myself up and then maybe I’ll be ready. This is hardly spontaneous.

I won’t even go into details about how maps must be drawn and strategies must be coordinated due to my additional girth and reduction in nimbleness.

By the way, I think it is extremely unfair to add additional pictures of this little black camisole on a non-pregnant woman. If you market it as a maternity outfit, let’s just show it with a pregnant model. No need to show me how cute this number would look if I could actually tie the darn thing around my growing belly.

Anyway, I think I’ll start small and get a cute babydoll with minimal snaps, ties and doodads. I’ll start simple. There isn’t a need for latex and 5” stilettos.

Monday, April 07, 2008

Pregnancy Dream #62


I dreamt my husband was suckling on my left breast.

I'm not talking sexy breast play. I'm talking his head, shaped like a baby suckling on my left breast for nourishment.

I was still pregnant and I remember asking him why he was trying to get milk and he said that it made him feel good and that even though I wasn't producing yet, I would soon.

He put his head back down and continued to suckle while holding onto my right breast with his left hand.

I just stared at him and the back of his head looked like a newborn's head.

I have no idea what that means. I know I've been worried about milk production but I'm fairly certain that I'll be able to produce enough for Miss Bean.

What I do recall was how soothing it felt to pacify my husband. He seemed pretty calm after suckling.

By the way, the strangest thing about the dream was not that I was still pregnant or that he was trying to feed off me but that he had a full grown man's face on a baby's head. Soft baby tuft hair and a grown man's face on a round baby's head. Oh, and he had full grown man hands. I mean wrinkly man hands, not soft cute, tiny non-existent fingernail baby hands.

Imagine your spouse's head on a baby. Do you have the image? Try to erase it now. You can't. I've done my deed and shared my bizarre image.

Midnight Rave at Miss Bean's


Funny how a little prayer, a little faith, a little meditation and a lot of love can make you feel better.

My anxieties that hit a peak the last few weeks are slowly dissipating. I received great news from my doctor; my tests came back normal! Hallelujah. I know it sounds weird but in a strange way, failing a prenatal test to me correlated to me not being a good mom. I know. I know. I have no control over these tests. My body and my hormones will do wacky things but I’m Asian. Forgive me but as my husband says, "You Asians really take tests seriously."

My husband has been a trooper all this time. He was a bit cranky about my irrational fears but when he noticed I really didn’t have control over them and that his usually sane wife was being snatched up by the pregnancy hormones, he stepped up and gave me a big hug, a large box of Kleenex and just held my hand. That’s all I really needed, I suppose.

I also spoke to God a lot. Ok, God and Mary and St. Elizabeth. Ok, every saint I could remember. No just kidding. I just prayed that God would remind me that I am a sane person and that I need to be rational.

I know alot of people will laugh at that but I honestly believe, whoever you believe it, a little prayer and meditation goes a long way. It doesn't need to be formal. A simple conversation with God during an elevator ride is all you need.


I know this sounds nuts too but since my belly popped, I notice kids are much more friendly to me. I don’t know what it is. I mean, it’s not like kids ran screaming from me before. I’m not this monster but now kids will freely speak to me and ask me questions. Before they would just stare, hide behind their parents or wait until I initiated conversation.

Miss Bean, are you sending out mommy vibes to your fellow tots or do I look like a candidate for Mrs. Claus?


Miss Bean has decided to hold a rave in my uterus. I’m not joking. Last night, I felt like an upstairs apartment dweller trying to sleep while the downstairs tenant kicked and punched the walls. Holy cow, I haven’t felt that much movement consecutively before.

I tried not to move or chuckle because I notice when I do, she stops moving around as much. It was a bit strange but a good strange that I didn’t want it to stop. I’m pretty sure if a camera was on my belly, you would have seen movements similar to the electric slide or the Italian chicken dance.


Last but not least for today, Miss Bean, your crib came into the store. Now, I just need to borrow the CRV from your uncle to pick it up and bring it home. Your mom wants to save the $85 delivery fee for clothes and diapers for you. I hope to get it home so your dad can set it up this weekend or next. You officially have a bed,
Miss Bean. As your dad said, this will be your bed until you can afford to buy your own. :-)

Thursday, April 03, 2008

Hormones and Anxieties hitting a peak


It’s been awhile since I wrote. To be honest, I’ve wanted to but I’ve been riddled with anxiety and stress. I knew writing it down would make me feel better and rationalize the entire muddle in my brain but it felt so personal and so internal, I felt reserved.

Between work and your due date coming along, I felt like a ticking time clock was hanging over my head. I felt pressured. Then there has been some craziness going on that I can’t get a hold off with your Grandmas that is driving me batty.

To add to this, I heard some news I wasn’t too happy to hear this week. This news and everything else has made me feel as if I had no control or understanding and it scared me.

One thing you will learn, Miss Bean, is that your mom has OCD. She likes to feel like she has some grasp of things. She may not have total control, nor does she want it, but she likes to know that she understands why things are the way they are and some guidance on how to handle it.

I know this sounds absolutely ridiculous. There are some things I understand I will never understand. For example, why do some people have common sense and some don’t. Why is it called common sense?

There are things that I understand that I have no control over. For example, I understand that elevated progesterone will cause my brain to feel mushy at times. I won’t have control over this but I shouldn’t stress over it as my brain will come back and multi-tasking will return.

But that same understanding still doesn’t make it any easier for me to deal with sometimes.

I know this is practice for me. When you come to this world and as you grow, there will be things I have no control over and I must understand and let go. I can’t plan for everything. I think your dad will be a great help with this. He isn’t a big planner like me. He goes with the flow.

I guess what I’m saying is I’m learning and I’ll continue to learn as you learn. Let’s try to do this together without driving each other mad. You will be new to this world and I will be new to the mommy world. Like your dad and I, I hope you and I can complement each other and help each other grow.

I’ll try to be more open and honest and not enclose myself as I have the last few days. It doesn’t feel good and I shouldn’t have to stuff it all away.

Another kooky dream...


I had another weird dream last night. This time, it was a fun weird dream. Your dad, your uncle, Po Po and Gung Gung were in a real life video game. The game was created by geeks into 4th dimensional planes. Every level had a different logic or thinking task. We all had to use our brain to get through the game which lead us into different hallways and different rooms that seemingly didn’t connect but did.

We were playing with thousands of other players. At first I thought speed was key but towards the end it seemed like speed was a factor but getting to the solution was most important. Your dad and I pounced on the challenge. It was high stress but it seemed like fun.

At one point, we added a person to our team. She was a woman with short, dark hair. She looked European, possibly French. She passed out during a challenge but I think that was part of the challenge. The card with hints said we had to wait for EMS. Your dad kept calling 911 while I held her head up and fanned her. At first I thought this was part of the game to test our patience, then it dawned on me that this may be part of the test. I looked at the hint card again and it said that a Dr. S is trying to make his way through the maze to get to us. That’s when I realized
Dr. S wasn’t a stranger but an acquaintance of mine.

I ran back into the maze and found him and grabbed his hand and ran him into our section. He said he had to go to the bathroom but I told him to wait. Why I remember this is beyond me. I also remember going to the bathroom while in the maze.

He ran with me but he looked different. He had the same face but he had a white lab coat on, a stethoscope and a black medicine bag. As he entered the room, the European lady regained color in her face and woke up. I thanked Dr. S and told everyone I’d direct him back to where I plucked him so he could finish his game. I grabbed his hand again and walked him back towards the midpoint when the hall changed and I fell into a hole. I screamed I apologized I must have taken him to the wrong area. He was left above as I tumbled down. It looked as if I was in the sky falling. Clouds and blue were whizzing by me. In front of me was a giant primary color activity mat for a baby. I kept trying to grab for it but could barely touch it.

I kept thinking I let Dr. S down and I let my family down who was waiting for me to continue on. Then something told me this was part of the game. Something told me I couldn’t get hurt seriously from the fall from the sky if I used my brain. If I could make it ok to the ground, I could somehow find my family again.

I kept thinking of ways to slow myself down and then as if I was the Cat in the Hat, I pulled an umbrella from my back and opened it. It slowed my momentum just in time to gently land on a beach.

To either side of me were groups of individuals who seemed elated and overjoyed. I
looked down and found myself on my knees at the shore on the wet sand. The tide kept creeping in but it felt good. The smell of the salty sea air seemed to invigorate me up.

I spread the wet sand out in front of me and under a thin layer was a rounded square rock. I lifted it up and the imprint on the wet sand said something along the lines of ‘I have completed my journey. Success is yours. Smile.”

As soon as I finished reading it, the tide came in and washed it away.

I smiled and laughed and immediately wondered if my family would get here. Something told me that the last test was an individual test. We all had to go it alone. We all had to fall and find a way to soothe ourselves.

I looked to my left and didn’t see my family. Most of the people started walking away from the beach.

I looked to my right. The crowds started moving toward the left walking past me hugging and smiling. Then in the far distance I saw my husband’s brown leather jacket. He was limping with a crutch on his right side. He was also being supported by a man on his left. It was my brother. I ran to them and smiled. They had made it.

We hugged an shared our exhaustion. As we began to walk, we both hoped our parents would make it and then I woke up.