belly touching

Last night, one of the lovely regulars at my Yoga studio work said to me "We just noticed the other night when we were here.... You're pregnant!!" and I said "I am!" and it was neat because it was the first time someone noticed that I was pregnant and declared it to me. Most people can't really tell that I'm knocked up unless I tell them or they already know... or they do that thing where they stare at my belly but don't say anything because they aren't quite sure if maybe I just have a fat gut.

People in general seem to like pregnant people. They seem to have a genuine interest in your bodily functions and then want to touch you. So far, I don't really mind it at all. Surprisingly, I might even like it. I guess even I've always been fascinated even though I never really thought I'd partake in the process. I was a notorious belly-toucher with my friends Jenn and Simone, but I would never touch without asking permission first! Always ask permission first if you don't know the pregnant lady!

If you're reading this Simone, I'm sorry I posted a photo of you without permission. Also, I stole this photo from Sarah W... if she happens to read this too.

Kittenheart Beating and Deep-fried Nutella

I had a check-up today with my Doc. The ol' 4-6 weeks check. Routine stuff, pee in a cup, get on the scale, blood pressure, chit chat test results chit chat blah, get on the table have my belly felt-up/tickled and then the highlight for me personally, listen for the Kittenheart. Lowell's never actually heard the heartbeat before because the tech at the Ultrasound had the sound turned off. I didn't get a chance to record it at my last appointment because I accidently showed up half an hour late. (Pregnancy stupids. Spent weeks thinking that appointment was at 1:30pm... they're always at 1pm)

Anyway, today I arrived nice and early, peed in a cup all by myself before they asked and didn't have too many questions, so we had some extra time. I asked to record a video when we were listening for the Kittenheart:



Kinda the nerdiest video ever, who would've thought I'd become the type to post stuff like this? It's probably less amusing than my drunken karaoke videos of 2004 but definitely cooler. And we're really only listening for the audio as the actual video of my button is pretty boring. Kittenheart!

Oh and p.s. only gained 2lbs this time since the last appointment! Total weight gain so far is 14lbs, which is on the high end of the range but acceptable. Booyahs! And this is with a deep-fried Nutella sandwich with whippy PB consumed in the time frame. I don't eat deep-fried food often, or ever, so it was justifiable due to EXTREME amazingness! I love Murray's indeed.

HOTmilk? Really?

I came across a line of sexy sexy maternity and nursing lingerie. In my opinion, very overpriced but whatever, it's important to look and feel good yada yada yada..and if sassy lingerie does that for you, cool.

My philosophy is to spend as little money as possible on things that I won't be able to wear when I have to give the rental boobs back, so I won't be spending $90 on frilly fancy lingerie. I would personally rather spend the money on a nice haircut or a massage or perhaps a cute outfit. But even if I felt inclined to blow money on preggo-lingerie, I find the brand name "HOTmilk" to be revolting. I barfed in my mouth a little bit when I read it. HOTMILK? Seriously?? Gross. Are there mommas out there who find this disgusting brand name appealing or am I over reacting? HOTmilk? Seriously?? Gross.

I guess this is what they meant by "emotional rollercoaster caused by hormones"

This is not a strictly pregnancy specific rant.

What the fuck is up with so-called friends lately? I understand we're all busy with life. Work, relationships, this and that. However, If you really want to make an effort, is it really so goddamn hard to hit "reply" and type a few quick lines in an email or send a quick text message back? Heaven forbid anyone actually picks up the phone and has *gasp* voice contact. I know I'm just having a bad night right now and being overly emotional. I have also been guilty of canceling plans lately but I always feel bad about it. Rescheduling is one thing, not giving a supposed friend the time of day or going MIA is another. seriously, what the. fuck. is. up?

I also work and take care of my home and pets and have a relationship and am, oh fucking wiped most days from FUCKING CREATING A LIVING HUMAN BEING INSIDE MY BODY... and yet I make an effort to make time for my friends!! More and more so lately, I find myself feeling positively FOOLISH about the amount of unreciprocated messages that I send out. I respond to Facebook messages even though I hate Facebook. I send texts and BBM messages to try to make plans or just see how a friend is doing. I send emails when I have a few moments to try to keep in touch with those who I may not be able to see on a regular basis.

So what the fuck is up with the massive amounts of texts and emails that I've sent and have, weeks later, received no response from from lately? Is the Internet somehow losing all the correspondence? Are they ALL somehow not going though? Am I really that annoying that no one can spare 30 seconds to respond? What the fuck is up, people?

I have friends who are going through big time drama, raising children, etc etc who I see or keep in tough with on a regular basis!! What is happening in your life that you can't respond to a simple text message or email???

Okay so maybe you have some sort of personal crisis - you're sick, you're moving to the country, you're being evicted, you hate your boss and you're getting fired, but then just let me know. Because I'm apparently a selfish asshole and I care about my friends and I want to know these things are happening in your life., even though you choose to ignore me. Yes, I'm reaching out because I want your support too and to tell you about what's going on with me, so in a sense I guess that is me being self-serving....but aren't I entitled to a little bit of that right now? Fack.

17 weeks and 4 days pic

I asked Lowell to take some belly photos the other day since we didn't have any yet. This photo was taken at 17 weeks and 4 days plus one huge brunch at Petit Déjeuner. Isn't Baxter soooo stinkin' cute in this shot? He's all "aww mom no smoochin plz".

Well, I technically have one photo that I took of myself in the bathroom weeks ago with my crappy BlackBerry camera, but it's NSFW and I ain't sharin' it with anybody. It was my first "Holy crap I can't suck it in anymore moment".

It's starting to feel slightly less surreal now that I have an ever-slowly-growing baby gut!

Later, I shall post about adventures in shopping for maternity clothes with Lowell's Mom. Did you know that inexpensive, stylish maternity wear exists?? I certainly didn't until yesterday. I'm actually excited to be able to start wearing some of my new clothes soon!

Rental boobs

Today I had to go shopping for a new bra, yet again.

The awesome $6 purple bra that I got from Jacob that seemed impossibly HUGE a few weeks ago was getting too cozy. Plus it's been annoying having only one well-fitting bra in rotation.

I was told by some Momma friends not to bother spending too much money at this point as I'd be going through different sizes every few weeks. I thought this was probably an exaggeration but took that advice to heart. I've been blessed (in my opinion) with fairly small but adequate boobs pre-being knocked up so luckily I haven't had to invest in any heavy-duty maternity e-cup support bras. My main goals were that the bras were comfy, supportive enough (never been an issue for me before) and reasonable non0ugly. Jacob and H&M are good options for inexpensive yet comfortable and reasonably attractive bras.

Anyway. To begin with, I was a 34B. I find that to be a nice respectable size. Not too small (I can't stand push-up or overly padded bras eugh) but small enough that going bra-less in the summer is a lovely option. I managed to stay in my regular bras until about 10 or 11 weeks in, at which point my bras were leaving welts on my skin at the end of the day so I graduated to a 34C. I was pretty proud of myself. I strutted around the apartment announcing to Lowell that we now had 34C boobs. 34C! Bahahaha! Real C cups!! I didn't even care that they were achey and (borderline TMI, but let's face it, this whole entry is bordering on TMI for some folks) well, ITCHY. 34C, bitches BAHAHA!

And then they kept growing. The achiness went away. The itchiness hasn't (I've had to excuse myself to go to the bathroom in public to give 'em a good scratch on more than one occasion). So today, I went to H&M and after pinching literally everyone bra they carried, determined that apparently NON push-up bras don't exist anymore. I managed to find a few non obscenely padded bras in non obscenely hot pink leopard print, grabbed a few sizes and headed to the change rooms. I looked at the selection and was like "Nah, no way your boobs are actually THAT big... these will probably be roomy and not fit!" But fit they did and apparently I've graduated to a 36C now. Bahahaha! 36C!! That is my new Boobies Hi-Score. Bahahaha! BAHAHA!

Much like my alarmingly suddenly "popped" belly though, I'd be content if they just stayed here. I don't want floppity-big boobies!

belly and general complaints

I've been reading other pregnant lady blogs and everyone is taking photos of their bellies. I haven't done that yet. I guess I should start? I'm jealous of those who claim they didn't start to show until 20-something weeks. I am begining to sport an indeniable "pouf" as Lowell likes to call it. People at work like to point it out everytime they see me and my friend Jody has declared twice (once sober and once not) that she wants to poke my belly. I was snooping someone else's photos and saw a pic of them at 17 weeks and thought "well, she's showing a lot at 17 weeks too! It's not just me!" Then it turns out she was having twins. I am not having twins. Lowell made sure he asked the Ultrasound tech not once, but twice during our 12-week appointment. I just have terrible lazy squishy abs. Damn.

Pertaining to my recent entry about pregnancy-stupids, in the past few weeks, I've sent dozens of emails, mainly to Lowell and Kristin, about apartments or blogs or merchandise that I want to share with them. About half of those times, I get a response back from them that says "Where's the link?" Goddamnit.

My two main complaints this week are the return of morning sickness (I puked in bed into the garbage yesterday, wtf??) and the inability to lie on my stomach anymore. I know it's not the best sleep posture, but I just love it. I can sort of achieve a nice stomach lie if I create a triangle of pillows but then I squish my annoyingly squishy new rental boobs and that's uncomfortable too. As soon as I can in February, I'm just gonna lie there on my stomach no matter how squishy my boobs are. It's going to be fantastic.

12kms

Aha!! I just checked on Google Maps and it turns out, we biked over 12 kms on Wednesday! Not 10!

12kms sounds cooler than 10, right? I am pleased. Now to keep it up.

I won't lie though, I do plan on having an Egg McMuffin tomorrow morning. It's been over two weeks since my last Dirty McMuffin and I'm allowed a stupid fatty incentive for having to work at 8am on the long weekend right?

pregnancy makes you smart. Not.

This whole pregnancy fog or "baby brain" is apparently a real thing. Not an excuse to be forgetful or silly like I often secretly believed when dealing with pregnant co-workers... Example, this one time one female Veterinarian who I used to work with, announced that she was finished our surgery. She proceeded to take off her cap, mask and gloves which confused me as I didn't quite understand this joke that she was committing to. Why was she joking about this? Well, as it turns out she wasn't joking. I pointed out to her that there was still a final layer of stitches to put in and proceeded to get her a new pair or gloves while she scrubbed in again to actually finish the surgery.

Random sidenote, I have worked with a grand total of 5 pregnant Veterinarians and 4 pregnant Vet techs in 3 different clinics over the years.

Anyway, lately I've been doing stupid things. Things that I find absolutely frustrating as I normally have a very low tolerance for stupid. Like forgetting my wallet and not being able to buy dinner at work, or remembering to bring my wallet but forgetting that my debit card was in another purse, or losing my wallet and keys and finding them in my rain boots after 20 minutes of searching the entire apartment and thus being late for work. My main thing has been forgetting basic words. It started a few weeks ago when we were flying to Montreal. At the airport, I saw the PILOT and said to Lowell: "Oh cool. It's the... um... the guy who flies...plane... the um, Air Guy." "Uh, you mean the Pilot?"


Or when trying to express my desire to go to the Thai place that does this crazy yummy pad thai in a CREPE, I asked Lowell if we could go to "that place that does that noodle in the... egg bag". Couldn't remember what CREPE was.

When searching for the TONGS in the kitchen, I searched the usual drawer, searched the utensil drawer, searched the dishwasher and finally announced to Lowell angirly that the "Clippy things for cooking" (couldn't remember the word TONGS) were no where to be found!! I was upset about this.. where could the be??? Lowell came over, opened the dishwasher and they were sitting right there in plain sight. I was pretty annoyed with myself. He was pretty openly smug about the whole situation.

biking

I made a vow to myself (and Lowell and Kitten baby) that I would be more active and continue to try to eat well. This week, I decided to get back on my bike after weeks (okay, months) of not riding. Check out the picture of my beautiful first "real" non-Craigslist bike that Lowell pretty much bought me last year. (I was supposed to pay him back but I don't remember if I ever did.... oops.)

I've always been absolutely petrified of biking in busy downtown Toronto traffic and apparently, being pregnant has made me even more petrified. Obviously, I always wear a helmet... but wiping out and breaking my limbs is still going to hurt a hell of a lot even if my skull doesn't explode! I refused to go fast as Lowell kept zipping off on his zippy roadbike every time we stopped at a light together. I cruised along but still felt WIPED from the adrenaline rush of biking on Richmond St during rush hour. Blargh! I think I was more exhausted mentally than I was physically from dodging parked delivery trucks, scary pedestrians standing way too far out on the curb, aggressive cyclists zooming by without dinging their bells and unpredictable INSANE drivers.

Biking just over 10 km may not seem like a lot to some people. But when you're slothful and haven't done anything more active than say, walk up a few flights of stairs at your friends 5th floor condo in weeks, 10km is intense! We rode to see an apartment and then to Exhibition Place for my annual trip to The CNE (every year since I was 2 years old!) and home, with tons of aimless walking about all over the CNE grounds in between. My already constantly achey back and gummy out of shape legs were a mess by the time we got home. I had numerous meltdowns throughout the day and had to stop twice to rest (and complain) on the trip home. Shockingly, my legs weren't sore this morning. A christmas miracle!