Some photos

This is what I look like 21 weeks pregnant, sleepless and sick with a terrible freakin' cold.



Lowell's stealth post-Thanksgiving photo. This is what I look like checking out Triscuits on sale. Looking huge at 22 weeks and 1 day pregnant with Kittenheart and also carrying a turkey, ham, vegetable, pie and ice cream Thanksgiving FoodBaby.
Seriously. I look we're having twins.



Today I waited too long to eat breakfast when I woke up and had to run to the bathroom puking. While I was doing my disgusting monster pukes, my nose started running down my face and I farted. I was so grossed out and saddened with myself. I finally told Lowell about this 12 hours later and was able to laugh about it. This was after I had to lie down on the bed and ask him to peel my jeans off of my bloated giant legs for me because they had gotten too tight over the course of the day. I'M SO DISGUSTING RIGHT NOW. I used to look good, oh those were the days:

Vain vain vanity shot, oh my.

Shirts

I found a shirt that I had meant to donate to charity because I had accidently shrunk it. It went from a nice long, leggings-length top to a short wide stupid looking top. Apparently I kept it and that's awesome because I can wear it now. It's sufficiently comfy and wide. Score! If I can continue to grow gigantic with only 4 actual "maternity" tops, that'd be awesome. My lovely Momma friend Jenn lent me a HUUUUGE vacuum-sealed bag of maternity clothes to rifle through, which was amazingly helpful. However, most of these clothes were size X-Small. I am not X-Small by any means and certainly not now. Stupid tiny Jenn and her teeny tiny maternity clothes! :D

P.s. I love you Jenn. Also, that vacuum bag contraption is miraculous! Literally an explosion of clothes when I unzipped it! I have no idea how to fit it all back in though...

Thanksgiving Belly & Ice cream turkey

Last night, after we got home from Thanksgiving dinner at Lowell's Parent's house in the Beaches, we went to Shopper's because my inhaler exploded. We're lucky that there is a 24-hour Shoppers Drug Mart near here that NEVER CLOSES. I was walking around the snacky crackers section and Lowell goes "Honey, turn that way" and snapped some photos of me. I didn't really understand what he was getting at but I complied and made some non-squinty, non-stupid faces for the iPhone.

This morning, I remembered that he did this and asked to see the photos. HOLY CRAP JESUS, they were insane. I said to Lowell "I DON'T LOOK LIKE THAT, DO I? My belly isn't that big, is it?!?!" As it turns out, my belly isn't that big yet... but last night's photos were hilarious and perhaps a good projection for what I should look like in a few more weeks. Apparently eating 2 plates of turkey and ham, potatoes and a bunch of assorted veggies, 3 slices of pie and 3 slices of ice cream turkey makes you look 4 weeks more pregnant than you actually are.

Sidenote: The ice cream turkey from Baskin Robbins is hilarious and has become mine and Lowell's Thanksgiving tradition. This year we waited in a huuuuge line-up due to the freakish heatwave and there was only one ice cream turkey left in the freezer. I was sweaty and nervous listening to all the families ahead of us order their scoops and sundaes. I kept muttering "Oh god, what if they want the turkey? Oh man oh man oh man" every time a new person reached the front of the line. Lowell suggested I wait outside but I couldn't leave him alone with the ice cream turkey anxiety. I swear if anyone ahead of us had gone for our ice cream turkey, I would have fought them for it. What we should have done was call ahead to have it reserved, but it was way more exciting this way.

In related news, I took the above photo of our ice cream turkey with my iPad. I decided to bring the iPad with me so I wouldn't feel left out when we inevitably reached the point in the evening when everyone in Lowell's family starts to play with their Apple toys. Usually I'm all left out with my malfunctioning BlackBerry while everyone shows off their hilarious new apps that make Grandma's talking sound like rapping or boring photos look fabulous. But not this gathering! This time I had my giant clunky iPad that I still really have no idea how to use!

I'm a bit sad that we didn't get to take leftover ice cream turkey home... to make turkey ice cream sandwiches...

Anyway... back to belly talk. Seeing photos of myself continues to surprise me these days. To me, my belly still feels mostly like my belly but it's sneaky and really starting to grow bigger and bigger.

I was going to take a "normal" sans Food Baby photo of the belly today to post along with the Thanksgiving Baby belly. But then I ate half a blueberry pie so that photo will have to wait. I'll post the pics eventually.... This was an anti-climatic build-up to no Thanksgiving Belly photo, sorry.

Week 22: ITCHY BELLY

My belly skin is uncomfortable today. It's a strange feeling to be constantly aware of your belly button all day long... it feels tight and rather itchy, almost achey. Just last week I was telling Alice that my belly wasn't itchy like hers was yet. This week, it SO totally is! But not like, normal "scratch it and it goes away" itchy. Whatever the "itch" equivalent to a dull ache is. A persistent tingley stretchy sensation maybe? Slathering Charity Pot lotion and Mange too bar from Lush all over the belly temporarily soothes the stretchy-tingley (and makes the belly smell like delicious, delicious cocoa butter) but it only kinda helps. And holy fricken jebus this is just the start... there are so many more MONTHS of stretchy-tingley to go! Pregnancy is such a freakin' science experiment.

Sophie the Giraffe: What's her deal?

No one ever actually leaves me comments here, so I should probably address this on the ol' Facebook or Twitter.... but what is the deal with this "Sophie the Giraffe" character??? Wikiepedia has not offered much useful insight.

A bunch of the "what to register for" lists that I read had this Sophie the Giraffe thing on their lists. I snooped a bunch of registries (people I know and strangers) and everybody had this freakin' Giraffe thing on their registries! Lindsay and I investigated when we were at the store and we didn't get it. It's a large plastic Giraffe that costs about 7 times as much as other toys and teethers. It's kinda large and freaky looking, though admittedly, Giraffes have always freaked me out. I have this crazy OCD where I want to have two of every trinket so in case I lose (for example) a favourite cat-head pacifier, I have a back-up cat-head pacifier at home. I do not want to have 2 giant plastic expensive Giraffes.

Mommas... what's the deal with this Sophie the Giraffe dude? I asked Lowell if we should put one on our registry since "everyone else was doing it?" and he looked at me like I was insane. Why is she so popular? Is she magic and do I need one because EVERYONE else has one and is in on the secret and I am a bad Momma-to-be for denying Kittenheart a Giraffe? Is she just famous for being famous? Because if this thing is the Paris Hilton of baby stuff, I don't want it.

hot rod

Got caught eating a disgusting Hot Rod in public. Hey, I had a post-cold craving.

Mama Pants. Better than I thought possible!

I never did get around to writing about how thoroughly pleased I was to discover that normal looking, dare I say "stylish" maternity clothes exist. I should also mention AFFORDABLE and stylish maternity clothes, because I've seen some amazing stuff at some online boutiques but I am certainly NOT spending $200 on a sweater or pair of Citizens of Humanity jeggings with the sweatpant waist that I won't be able to wear again next year!

Now, I'm no fashionista but I'm pretty set in my ways and I know how I like to look and dress. I'm probably far from fashionable and anything "trendy" that I wind up with usually happens by fluke. Example, when the "military" look came about and I was still wearing the same old green "military" jacket from my last year of high school. Bahaha "Where did I get my coat, Girl on the TTC? I got it from the year 2002! Bahaha!"

A couple of weeks ago, Lowell's Mom very, very generously offered to take me shopping for maternity clothes. She seemed so into the idea, it was amazing and heart-warming. I on the other hand was a jackass and initially dreaded the idea. I've never liked shopping and imagined us going into stores such as Thyme and Motherhood Maternity and me scowling at turtlenecks, floral prints and MOM PANTS. My goal was to stay in my own clothes or keep buying things that I could still wear when I lost the gut. However, pants were becoming increasingly uncomfortable even with the Bella Band (life saver!) and I was living in yoga pants and a single pair of jeans, my stretchy Second brand Yoga Jeans. So I figured it wouldn't hurt to take a look. I was skeptical though.

We arrived at the Eaton Centre and Lowell's Mom was all excited. She had all boys so she had never really done the girly shopping trip. It was cute because she insisted on picking me up even though our apartment is literally a 6 minute walk to the mall.

Anyways, as it turns out, after the recent renovations, the only teeny tiny selection of maternity clothes left in the entire mall was a teeny tiny hidden corner in H&M! My spirits lifted a bit as I realized that I liked a lot of the clothes at H&M! I was thoroughly impressed that instead of the frumpy old-lady styles I had expected, much of the selection was the same as their regular clothes... just with the handy stretchy waistband slapped on top of the regular jeans.

There were stripey shirts galore AND the elbow patch sweater that I had my eye on in the regular section came in a wider "Mama" version. H&M Mama, I was very impressed with you. I came away with an entire sack of NON UGLY clothes that I could probably wear again when non pregnant, including my previously mentioned current favourite stripey white top. I honestly plan on living in that shirt, I don't care if I look crazy wearing the same clothes everything. This is as long as it continues to be miraculously stain-repellent (I'm constantly spilling things all over my gut lately) and withstands the constant washing and drying that I'm subjecting it to.

Lowell's Mom generously insisted on paying for everything, which made my normally robot heart weepy. And I've since gone back and bought another pair of my now favourite stretchy skinny jeans as they are uber comfortable, look exactly like my "normal" pants and only cost 40 bucks! I love these pants because they actually have pockets and a fake fly and everything along with the comfort of the stretchy belly-holding, buttcrack-hiding top. I hope to be able to wear them for the whole pregnancy. Hopefully things keep going as they have been and the only significant growth will be in the belly and boobs. I'd like it if my ass doesn't get toooooo fat (of course, I'm totally okay if it does).





Too bad I'm not one of those popular "Mommy bloggers". If I were, I'd totally keep plugging how much I LOVE H&M Mama and hope that they would send me shtuff!

P.s. Minor thing that might be a piss off... that model isn't pregnant, is she? That's totally a fake belly stuffed in her shirt... OR she's the slimmest non-puffy (even for a model) pregnant lady that I've ever seen and I'm jealous!

Don't mess with me Pt 2: Shut up, Loud Neighbours

Update from previous entry: I am now full on sick with a cold. I feel like crap. I'm annoyed at myself for finally succumbing to this cold that's been going around for weeks. So why am I awake now at 4:01 a.m.?

Our lovely neighbours decided they were going to have a Wednesday night party. Hey, whatever, they're young and probably don't have class or work until late in the day. I don't have to go to work until 4 p.m. myself so party on, who cares? Except they were being fucking loud on their patio... Which faces onto the echo-ey echo-ey courtyard that we all share. I kept trying to sleep through their music and loud talking and drunken sing-a-longs and then I finally had enough and made Lowell call the front desk. That of course didn't do anything so after laying there fuming for 15 more minutes, I got dressed and went to confront them myself. Normally I may have just let it go and tried to sleep through it... but being sick and cranky and maybe pregnant and protective too made me spring into action. For some reason, the song that pushed me over the edge was Hello Time Bomb.

I get dressed in a huff... Lowell scrambles to put clothes on too. I insist that I don't need his help but knew he was spying on looking out for me from our front door (Poor Lowell... ready to do damage control as his mouthy moody pregnant girlfriend barrels into the hallway to confront drunk frat boys ay 3a.m.) I knock on the jackass neighbour door. No answer. I knock again more agressively. I see shadows in the peephole and hear whispering. No answer. I say out loud "Hi, I can see you through your peephole". No answer. I say "I'm not going away..." and finally Mr. Ryerson University in his little short sleeve collared button down and khaki shorts opens the door.

I say something along the lines of "Hello, I'm your neighbour and I don't mean to be an ass, but it's very late... I'm pregnant and sick and have to go to work in a few hours (yeah, I lied) and your music is very loud." I was completely passive aggressive and patronizing throughout our brief conversation ("Don't get me wrong man, I love me some old Matt Good too... just maybe not at 3a.m.) and he was completely over the top and insincere with his apology ("I'm very, very sorry we got you out of bed but thank you for coming and speaking to me yourself instead of involving security or the police") but the end result was that they turned off the music and took the party indoors. And I felt vindicated and was quite smug about how I handled the situation. And now I sit awake and still unable to sleep because I'm congested, achey and feel like ass. But I'm doing this in silence and it's just lovely.

YOU'RE WELCOME, other neighbours who wouldn't go deal with the situation but were no doubt annoyed too unless you are deaf or retarded.

Asthma Doctorb

I think I'm getting sick. This is a whole new World of Suck.

I blame it on the waiting room at the breathing doctor yesterday. SO MANY COUGHING WHEEZY DYING SICK OLD PEOPLE IN THERE. Fucking hell, I should have worn just worn a mask. Or THEY should have worn one of the masks provided instead of wheezing and hacking all over each other.

Besides the thoroughly unpleasant waiting room full of nasty sick oldies and a man with rotten toenails, my new respirologist, Dr. Day was awesome. My regular doc had mentioned when I first got pregnant that 1/3 of women found that their asthma got better, 1/3 stays the same and 1/3 get worse with pregnancy. I hoped and hoped to be in the first 2/3s... but, of course, guess which 1/3 I fell under. Yeah. So 24 hours and only one sleep after my loooong-ass first consult, my breathing was better than ever already. I actually slept through the night until my 4:30am pee break! No waking up to voilent coughing wheezing attacks! However, I now have a raging sore throat, can't stop sneezing and feel like death. Or maybe my body's going into shock from being able to take in normal amounts of oxygen again.

An interesting note, my breathing doctor says to me yesterday "I bet you're having a girl." before I told her that we "most likely" knew the gender already. Apparently almost all of her pregnant lady asthmatics who's asthma worsens with pregnancy wind up to be carrying girl babies. Curious!

My Momma and me

It's completely stupid and I am a ridiculous human being for doing this, but I didn't tell my Momma that I was pregnant until this past Friday.
My Mom and I have had a tumultuous relationship over the past, oh, 27 years. Maybe 24 years, since I don't think I started giving her a hard time until I was 3 years old. There's a story that I've heard so many times that I'm convinced that it's a memory:
My Mom and 3 year-old Z played a game of chicken... I had decided that I was moving out. I demanded a $2 bill (Canada in the 80's!) and a TTC ticket, put on my snowsuit and asked my Mom to let me out the backyard door, which faced onto a main road. I had to ask her because I did not know how to open that door. She let me walk to the bus stop, which was only a few houses down. I stood there at the bus stop, staring at her staring at me from the house. I was probably terrified that a bus would actually pull up. Five minutes passed, other people showed up at the stop and wondered about this little kid standing there alone. And then the McNicoll Ave bus showed up...... and my Mom caved and came running out of the house to get me. I sooooo won that one! HA!

So back to this Friday. I had been avoiding my Mom's emails asking me when In October or November I would go visit her. She's been living in Hong Kong taking care of my grandparents who are both quite ill right now. Originally there was talk of her coming in September, which is what spurred this whole "I'll wait to tell my Mom in person!" idea in the first place. I figured if she was coming in September anyway, why bother telling her big news like this over email? Then my Grandma got scheduled for surgery so my Mom started asking if I could go there.

I was hesistant to agree because while I know it's perfectly safe to fly while pregnant, I kinda hated the idea. Plane rides are pukey hell for me at the best of times and the thought of being jammed into a tiny seat for 14 hours, nauseous, ankle-swelley and sciatic-nervey back-achey sounded awful. So what did I do? I avoided the issue. I stopped responding to my Mom's emails. Then I stopped opening them at all because if I never read her worried messages then they probably weren't real.
My Mom and I only recently reconciled this summer after a few year long seperation that involved only the occasional Birthday e-card.... I reasoned to Lowell that I could be Mother-less again, right? Maybe she never even had to know! He let this go on for a few weeks until my Mom emailed him, concerned that I had died or did something stupid and was avoiding her. So we scheduled a Skype chat and after numerous shrieking and whining fits from me leading up to said Skype chat, I realized that I am NOT a teenager anymore and that being pregnant is perfectly acceptable and that I had to just tell my Mother.

So we told my Mother. She was pretty shocked as I've gone my entire life telling her that she'd never be a Grandma. I had assured her before she left Toronto in June that I still had no intention of ever having kids, ever. Just like I've always said my entire life. She asked me if I was sure and I said "Of course! No kids! Ever!". Then she made an offhand comment about why I was wearing a push-up bra in the middle of summer to which I was like "I hate push-up bras, what are you talking about... crazy woman!" What no one knew at the time, except apparently for my cat Eileen was that I was already knocked up. Ooops.

Anyway, now that I've told my Mom, I feel a lot better. Like a big weight has been lifted because I was stressed out about how she was going to take it. She was understandably shocked and then even she had a hard time hiding the fact that she was excited, even though she was trying to play it cool.
As much as I don't necessarily like being "mothered", lately the idea of getting all the help that we can get has been appealing and I've found myself wanting my Mommy. She's promised to come in February when the Kittenheart arrives and I'm actually excited for this! Tumultuous or not, I love my Momma and she loves me. After we got off the phone/Skype, it all of a sudden felt more real than it ever has! We are having a baby and everybody important knows now.