Random thoughts

I love Indian food. And Greek food. Okay part of that is because the Indians have raita and naan and the Greeks have hummus and tzatziki and pita bread. And there's nothing people love more than taking one thing, dipping it in something creamy and lovely and then eating it. Mmmmmmmmm. Yes.

I think if my pregnancy could have a voice, it would say, "More fruit and dairy please." I don't really want meat or veggies (unless cleverly concealed in dairy, such as tzatziki or raita). I just tried making myself a salty lassi, which is basically a slightly savory yogurt drink, with a little mint from my hanging-in-there mint plant and cilantro from the fridge. It wasn't fantastic, but it was dairy, so I liked it alright. It's s'posed to be good for digestion. Yay, digestion.

Weaning of the binky has begun. Which means I am hearing a litany of "Beeta beeta beeta beeta mama beeta!" every time he thinks about it. I'm trying to keep it just for naps and bedtime, but he's used to using it when he watches a show on TV or rides in the car, so this may not be easy. However I can see his two top teeth turning in slightly and, well, they don't make then bigger than the mouth of an 18 month old so it's starting to look ridiculous with the corners of his mouth peeking out the sides. He looks adorable when he uses it, but it "gotsta go."

School is out! Yay! I could be depressed at the lack of money that will swiftly ensue, but that's a downer, so I'm celebrating a chance to exercise more frequently, eat better and play with Jack! (Oh and clean and such, but no one wants to talk about that.)

We planted corn and it's not growing. Who can't grow corn? It's like grass.... Poop.

There are a bunch of baby sparrows jammed in our porch light in a nest, with mama hurriedly escaping every time we try to enter or exit the house. So we don't use the porch light so we don't burn their baby eyes forever. (I'm guessing blind birds are not going to be the fittest that survive.)

My sisters are awesome and work so hard at their respective colleges! I'm so proud of both of them! Theresa and Liz, you kick ass!

Only a few more days till I see Dr. Kurian. That's good. Then I can finally find out how much weight I've packed on with all this eating 'cause we don't own a scale. What a weird thing to celebrate, but who wants to own a scale anyway? I don't need that kind of pressure.

Fourteen weeks already!

Journaling v. Blogging

It feels like a long time since I have recorded anything here. When I was pregnant with Jack I kept a Word document on my computer and filled it with thoughts and fears, excitement and worry about everything that is pregnancy, birth and beyond. I eventually tapered off that journal and I'm sad about that. Why would my pregnancy and birth seem more important, more signficant, than today, when he is 2 years old and dances vigorously to any music at the end of any sitcom we watch?

I have always treasured the concept of keeping a journal, writing in one, yet I can type much much faster than I write, so I simply don't keep a written journal. I wonder what our kids will appreciate when they're older, even in the ever-advancing technological age we're in. Will my children be glad that I typed up my thoughts so they can read it on a screen someday? Will they be sad that they don't have something tangible to hold beyond whatever they might send through the printer--the information old but the paper new and without a feeling of history? I know I would have loved to read journals from my grandparents, my parents, but journaling is not that common. Blogging, thankfully, is, so I hope and pray that my musings are treasured somehow by the ones I love later, as long as Blogger exists!

Pregnancy: 14 weeks

Sorry for the tangent, I get distracted easi--"SQUIRREL!" (Loved that movie.)--ly these days. I am 14 weeks along today! Yay! I am in the second trimester, which doesn't yet feel any different than the first trimester in an alleviation of symptoms, but I feel fatter, so that's new. LOL It's more of a fullness than anything.

I still get morning sickness, often brought on in the wee hours of the night when my DARLING son wakes up crying, saying "Mama? Da--y? (he leaves the double d's out) Door?" then proceeds to just lie (lay? I can never remember) there, eyes open, watching my every move.

Last night, after sitting there a good half hour, trying to patiently endure stretches of silence only to see him rustle or turn over or pick his head up to see that I am still at my post, I managed to crawl, sloth-like, out of the room and use a finger placed gingerly between the carpet and the door to close the door an inch at a time. Then I had to go the kitchen to pig out on hummus (JOY!!!) and pita bread with a chaser of apple juice. Which didn't do the trick and so my amazing husband got me a ginger ale out of the garage about twenty minutes later. (John, you are amazing. Really. Muah!)

So the morning sickness isn't gone. I find it inextricably tied to my body's great idea of being hungry every half hour. No joke. Eating has always been a pasttime of mine, but now it is a full-time job. Almonds, yogurt, cheese, oranges, bananas, graham crackers, hummus (JOY!), strawberries, and cereal. All the time. I have failed to incorporate any leafy greens, which I really need to do. And more whole grains. And less corn syrup, for crying out loud!

Plans/Goals

This is my last week of work, which is terrifying on the financial aspect of things--summer seems long without money--but we have saved a little and hope that a little stretches to a lot magically. I know God cares for us and has always managed to pull us through using many resources (and parents), so I'm trying not to dwell on that. Plus, the summer allows me to take care of this baby, possibly (fingers crossed) introduce the potty to and eliminate the binky from Jack's daily routine. And I want to experiment with making more things myself and buying less processed/sugared up foods. Should be cheaper too if I don't go crazy, right?

Littlest Love

My baby is the size of a lemon.

Littlest one, I try so hard to stay still, hoping I can feel you even though I know it's not time yet. It is weird for your brother to be out of me and you to be in me and I don't even know you or who you are! But God knows just who you are and who you'll be, and I'm honored to be part of His plan for you--what a big job for Mommy and Daddy!

I can't wait to see whether you're a boy or girl, can't wait to seriously think of names, can't wait to feel your growing arms and legs move about inside me! I love being pregnant and I'm already growing to love you more and more each day! You are a great surprise, a great blessing, a great addition to this family. I praise God for you!

Corn syrup!

Okay, I have heard before that corn syrup is bad for you. Well, especially high fructose corn syrup. And I read this great article about it, which proved very informative and very frightening.

Here I am, subbing at AV High School today and, with just a cursory glance at my bag o' pregnancy-sustaining treats, I have found FIVE things that contain high frutcose corn syrup: ginger ale, yogurt, trail mix, granola bar and jam on my pb&j.

The article states that fructose contributes to the following things:

• Insulin resistance and obesity
• Elevated blood pressure
• Elevated triglycerides and elevated LDL
• Depletion of vitamins and minerals
• Cardiovascular disease, liver disease, cancer, arthritis and even gout

None of those are helpful to me everyday, but especially now that I'm pregnant. I need MORE vitamins and minerals. I want LOW blood pressure. I do not want gestational or any other kind of diabetes.

Now, apparently high fructose corn syrup is not the only bad guy out there. Agave syrup, which I bought and used in tea as a substitute for honey and sugar, contains
a chemical that is especially bad for pregnant women, as it can cause a miscarriage. It's also usually so refined that there is nothing good in it. Obviously all those pink and blue packets are nasty too.

Basically, this is what I've gleaned from the info I've read this morning:

Good: stevia herb, organic cane sugar, organic raw honey (not heated), real maple syrup, molasses, palm sugar

Bad: refined sugar, high fructose corn syrup, artificial sweeteners, agave syrup

I am trying to read a lot more on this so I'm not basing my decision on two articles, but at the same time, this already troubles me. I have always been wary of following any particular way of eating because I've been afraid of trying to be too trendy. I mean, if we cut everything out of our diet that people say is bad, we may not even to get to drink water. So I don't want to get uppity about the way I choose to live my life, but it sounds like this is important enough to take notice of.

What do you guys think? Total fad or justifiable concern? Have you found great evidence on the contrary?

Sooooooo worth ten minutes

I can't wait to cook with Jack. Okay, yes, I can wait a little while. But I'm excited for this stage. Although I don't think John will let him get away with telling him, "Shut up, old man." But you never know...child actors these days say much, much worse.

Jack at (nearly) 23 months

Dear Jack,

You are growing up so fast! I can't even believe how much you're learning, even when I do nothing more than let you play around the house and occasionally be brainwashed by cartoons. You are hard to mislead, that's for sure: if I try to hide something from you, you're sure to find it. You are a firm believer that my possessions should be carried with me at all times. If I leave my phone on the couch, you will bring it to me within seconds, saying, "Hold? Hold?" You'll also bring me both remotes and any glass of water I leave behind, even if only to get a snack or swap the laundry. You have learned to put all your shape puzzle pieces in the right places all by yourself, and I love to watch you concentrate on it and place the pieces so quickly. You will ask for food and then grab my hand, trying to pull me up off the couch. When that doesn't work, you'll try to push the laptop closed.

Yesterday I followed a pregnancy yoga video and you thought it was a great game. You would mimic my poses right under me, laughing and pressing your forhead into mine. For each standing pose, you would try to run between my legs, which did not work so well since you're taller than my legs are long, so I had to just forget the concept of balance. Not quite the peaceful experience I'd hoped for, but I should have known.

You absolutely and completely love me...you are a cuddlebug and must be touching me in some capacity in order to fall asleep. Your favorite way to fall alseep on me is to pull my shirt up and rest your head on my belly, which will be adorable when my stomach is the size of a hot air balloon.

Your hair is long, blonde, curly and wispy. You've only had one haircut and you're in dire need of another, but I love your curls so. After a bath, the back of your head is filled with a myriad of little ringlets and I fall in love with you all over again.

Jack, I love you! You make me so happy, keep me on my toes and teach me constantly about how to be a better mom. I'm sorry for the times I lose my temper or get frustrated with you. You don't really understand yet and I know that. I just want to be able to communicate fully with you, but I really am so grateful to cherish this time where your broken English is cute and permissible, your playtime is fully uninhibited and your smile lights up your face when you see me.

Words you often say: "Dee-doo" (thank you), "Mama!" (the exclamation point is very important here), "Mama-Da-ee" (your new name for Daddy...weird) or "Daa--ee" (Daddy), "huuuuuu-gny" (hungry), "nack" (snack), "wahn-wah" (sandwich), "nana" (banana), "nigh nigh" (night night--bedtime), "bat" (bath), "tee" (brush teeth), "nyo-ra-njjjje" (orange), "ki" (Caillou cartoon), "mnow" (milk), "crakrrr" (cracker), "tits" (cake...seriously), "shitties" (Goldfish crackers...supposed to be "fishies"), "beet-ah" (binky...pacifier), "tooooooo" (two...you have to have two crackers, two slices, two pieces), "may-oes" (tomatoes), "min-ya" (Mickey Mouse), "wah-saw" (raisins), "nuu-nuus" (noodles), "ow-sigh" (outside), "ing-sigh" (inside), "mooooo" (moon) and "watccccccchhhh" (wants to watch tv).

When you're angry, your first inclination is to throw something. This drives me absolutely nuts, because I don't know where you learned this from, but binkies, toys and food will sail across the room, accompanied by a growl of protest. I have not found an effective punishment for this yet.

You are impervious to spankings. You might cry, but it's more a cry of anger than anything else. More often than not you just grunt in my direction and do whatever it was one more time.

You love to eat cheese, bananas, cookies, graham crackers, Goldfish crackers, pb&j sandwiches, tomatoes and fruit popsicles. You will occasionally eat avacados, strawberries, oranges, apples, chicken, beans and tortillas. You love to drink any kind of juice (just like me) and milk. You also love soda and, in a brief but unfortunate not-taking-everything-with-us-when-we-leave-the-couch episode, beer.

You love to be chased, love to chase back, love to throw sand at poor Brownie (grrrr), love to play outside. You're inquisitive, hard-headed, extremely resilient and you open my eyes in a whole new way to the world around me.

I love you, I love you, I love you! You make my day complete, with your squishy face and your warm little hands. Even when Daddy and I are out on a "date," we think about you and talk about you constantly. Daddy loves you immesurably and he can't hide his excitement when he walks in the door and you run into his arms. You make us so proud and you're not even two yet!

I love you, little love, goober, punkin pie, monster mash. I love every minute of this journey, even if it whizzes by at such an incredible speed.

Love,
Mama!

At home or in the hospital?

Now some of you have been waiting for an opportunity to weigh in on this sort of decision, since so many people called me crazy for having Jack at home. Unfortunately, the only thing putting this choice up for debate is money, or the lack thereof. I trust God to take care of us either way, but this is a source of stress for me, so perhaps talking about it will help me get through it or over it.

At home:
I loved loved LOVED having Jack at home. Not only was the idea novel in today's society, but I could stay at home, in familiar surroundings, with only our germs. No new people, no foreign atmosphere, no one following procedure over what I want or need. I can't say it was exactly peaceful when I was going through a contraction but I was surrounded only by people I chose to be there in my own house.
Many people criticize this method of birth because if something goes wrong, they say, it may be too late to get help in time. This seems to come from a mindset that no one is monitoring me at all while I'm in labor at home, and that's simply not true. Our midwife, Justine, was once an EMT and is now a licensed midwife of more than 200 successful births.
She monitored me by phone before arriving, came over once I'd reached a regular pattern to my contractions and checked on Jack via Doppler and me via pulse checks throughout my labor. She carefully studied my condition throughout labor and assisted in the crowning and birth, as well as directing us in what to do with the cord and later, birthing the placenta. She examined me after the birth, applying a couple stitches as needed. I took a little too long to stop bleeding, so she sent me to the hospital as a precaution, but by the time I got there, the problem had righted itself. She accompanied us to the hospital, remained there as long as I was there (most of my stay there was to recover from the Demerol they gave me...what a doozy) and came back to the house with us.
I never felt that in any way my safety was compromised, since Justine could recognize any signs of distress and act on them accordingly.
Our dilemma is actually purely monetary: the midwife fee went up and if health insurance covers it, it's on a reimbursement basis, so we still have to shell out the money, which we don't rightfully have.

At the hospital:
I know hospitals play a very important part in successful births, especially high-risk pregnancies. I do not discount the hospital staff's expertise or the mother's wisdom in choosing to have their babies there. I do feel, however, that many of their interventions are unnecessary and more for their own convenience.
It is not always necessary to give a woman pitocin to start labor or speed up labor just because nothing is happening. It's not always needed to ripen the cervix when dilation is not happening quickly. Epidurals are useful sometimes, but what you give the mom reaches the baby. It is horrible to make women push their babies out while lying flat on their backs, since that means you're essentially pushing your baby uphill, up the curve of your tailbone.
I want to be able to walk around, sit on a pilates ball during contractions, get in a tub, and not be tied down by machines and wires and people poking around where they don't need to be. I can only have two people with me (I had Justine, John (of course), Jaimie and Jana at my house for Jack's birth). Basically, I don't want people trying to boss me around and I don't want to deal with the anxiety of people telling me what they think I should do and me having to argue with them.
Honestly, I'm scared to go to hospital. I don't care how many people have gone there and had successful births. Going to the hospital is scarier to me than giving birth at home any day. But it could be practically free with John's new insurance.

I'm stressed out about this. Again, I know God will care for us, hospital or home, rich or poor--as He always has. I'm just picky and hope that if I have to go to the hospital that I can get over my own fears.

A good movie to watch if you want to better understand where I'm coming from: The Business of Being Born.

Pregnancy Update: Morning sickness started today, so I stayed home. And I had a splitting migraine since yesterday, which already shows me that this pregnancy is different, since I never had a headache with Jack. Vomiting with a migraine is definitely on my top ten of most horrible feelings. Pants are just a little tighter.

The pros and cons of pregnancy.

I titled this post as if I was making the decision to get pregnant, but I want to write about what I remember about my pregnancy with Jack that I did or didn't like. I know, I know, I know that this pregnancy may be completely different. But I've been thinking of all these things throughout the past few days and I thought I could relish them in greater detail here.

Pros:

• I actually loved the attention. I knew it would be the last time it was "all about me."It was kinda fun to have everyone fuss of me.
• Not having to suck in my gut anymore.
• Feeling the baby move. It's such a private, adorable thing to experience. Sometimes not so comfortable, but still awesome.
  
• I love maternity pants and their lack of useless belt loops and buttons that dig into me. I think over-belly pants are gross, but the ones that sit under your belly are wonderful
• I actually admire the maternity close at Motherhood Maternity when I'm not pregnant. Now I can wear it without looking like I've just given up on my figure entirely!
• No one argues if I have to sit down.
  
• High schoolers are brutally honest at eliminating dumb choices for names. But another post on that later.
  
• I am big for a good reason. Not big for a bunch of lazy excuses, which is the rest of the time. ;-)
• No migraines! We'll see if that changes this time around, but I loved that.
• Great hair, skin and nails from hormones and vitamins!
  

Switzerland:

• Sometimes people would gravitate toward my orb-like frontside like a moth to flame, walking toward me with a mile-wide smile and outstretched arm, as if the Force was drawing their hand there. It never bothered me one way or another--I didn't get defensive and I didn't quite embrace it--but sometimes it was just weird. Like one day a guy walked by with his family at Wal-Mart. He came over, unannounced, rubbed my belly and grinned a goofy smile. He whispered, "Congratulations!" and went back to his wife and kids. Weird enough. I can't imagine how confused and weirded out I'd feel if John touched a stranger's belly, then walked back to me as if it was normal. But here's the kicker: she looks at him and snaps, "What?!? Was three not ENOUGH for you? Do I not make you HAPPY???" Uh................ I didn't stick around for the rest of the argument.
• Why does everyone want my kid to be born on their birthday? Don't you realize that that just means I will NEVER come to your birthday party?
  

Cons:

• Morning sickness, hands down. And the subsequent purchase in ginger ale stock.
  
• Having to waddle when I walk, which took FOR-EV-ER when trying to get to the bathroom. I would have to use the bathroom between EVERY CLASS. Add the aforementioned slow waddle, possible stairs and a million rude students in my way and I would be late to each class. Every. Time.
• Stretch marks. Ugly things, I know, but maybe, just maybe I won't get more because the old ones will just reappear??? Don't contradict me on this one. Just let me dream.
• Listening to people: I'm sorry, women, but many of you are thoughtless and ridiculously rude to pregnant women. I am trying to think "happy thoughts." Only another mom would try to add to a conversation about labor by describing how Mrs. So-and-So had a 8,670-hour labor and the epidural only numbed her throat so she couldn't tell the doctors when something was wrong and the baby came out with a leg growing out of his forehead and had no liver so he died an hour later. This is not helpful!
• Old wives' tales. Scratching your belly doesn't damage your belly skin unless you are Wolverine. The way babies "sit" in your belly does not always tell you what gender you have. My baby will not drown if I have him in water! There are tons of ridiculous things that people share!
• Not being able to reach my feet. John would have to lace up my Converse for me.
• Only being able to safely sleep on one side every night.
• Heartburn and the inability to enjoy tomatoes, orange juice or anything acidic.