Starting early

g-unit may or may not be the littlest Sox fan out there, but he/she was certainly excited by the World Series win last night. As B cheered loudly (and roused me from my sleep on the couch) the baby registered his/her excitement by rolling, flipping, and kicking up a storm. It was nice to know that the two of them were sharing in the celebration together. My excitement was a little more subdued, as I was feeling pretty worn out by the other recent late nights of baseball watching. g-unit and B settled down pretty quickly, and it wasn't too long before the three of us were off dreaming sweet dreams of victory.

In other news, I've learned that at least one website has answered my previous question, and continued the fruit analogy. This time, apparently more so in terms of weight than size. g-unit now registers as mango-like--approximately one pound in weight and about a foot in length. No wonder g-unit's one-baby cheering section in my belly felt so pronounced!

Our little mango also enjoyed some time with the cousins, the brothersyz this weekend, for Liam's baptism. You can see a pic of us on their very own blog.

Otherwise, not much is new in pregnancy land. For those wondering or keeping track, I'm now between my 23rd and 24th week, meaning that I'm about 5.4 months pregnant. Time has flown by so far, and I have a feeling that February 22nd will be here before we know it!

Fruit of the week club

Apparently, all the pregnancy websites out there haven't heard the old saying about comparing apples with oranges. Virtually every week so far, I've been given a fruit comparison with which to envision the size of the baby. This week's fruit: a large banana. So now when I look down at my ever-growing belly, I see a banana. Past fruit examples included items like kiwi and grape. The grape days feel far away, now that I've reached banana status. I'm wondering how much longer the fruit analogy can work. What's left? Pineapple? Some other tropical species? Do I then lose the fruit frame of reference entirely?

My recent absence from the blogosphere has, I suppose, been indicative of this lull in gestational events. Week by week, the second trimester has been pretty consistently quiet. Or at least consistently consistent. With some exception of course, I work, I eat, I sleep, and I grow a child inside of me. Talk about the mundane and the sublime. I'm feeling more movement on a daily basis, and B has now been able to feel some kicks from the outside. None of my pre-maternity clothes really fit anymore. And doing simple things like tying my shoelaces or getting out of the car now require a momentary re-consideration to take my new growth into account. I can't imagine what my daily functioning will look like in a few months. I'm only at five months now, and feel like I've about reached the size that my body can accomodate in relative comfort. Yes, I know I will get much bigger. In theory. But it's a little harder to accept in reality. I've pushed my body to the limits before (ie. running marathons) and done things that I wouldn't have dreamed possible, but this is a whole new ball game.

My clients also remind me of changing appearance and status on a nearly daily basis. They all know about my pregnancy now, and continue to routinely comment on my appearance, which is more than a little strange. Until recently, my clients would never say things like, "Oh, your belly looks so cute today!" Ah, but now they do. As a therapist, I'm not accustomed to being the recipient of my clients' verbal feedback (though I know they have a whole other internal world that I'm not privy to), especially in relation to how I look. I'm also not accustomed to their protective gestures. Many of the female clients I work with have developed obvious caretaking rituals with me. In one home, I'm now offered the sole chair in the apartment during our sessions. Which is a much-appreciated alternative to sitting on the tile floor for an hour and a half. Another client offers me food and drink every time I come to the house. And a third reprimanded her son for asking me for a grape when he saw them on my desk, saying "you can't do that! you're stealing food from her baby!" It's fascinating, since none of these behaviors occurred before I was pregnant. And it keeps me on my toes, since as a therapist I'm also tasked with interpreting the clinical significance of such gestures and my responses.

So when is a grape just a grape? If you're a therapist, the answer is: never. If you're a pregnant therapist with fruit on her desk, on her brain, and as her imagined baby: never, ever. But now on to bananas--which come to think of it, Freudian psychoanalysis would probably have even more to say about! Perhaps in another post...

Pop, goes the g-unit

For lack of a better word, I have apparently "popped." By extension, of course, g-unit has really been the one to "pop." The past two days have been filled with sudden acknowledgement of my pregnant state by random (and non-random) others.

Yesterday, one of the kids I work with looked at my stomach and asked if I have a baby. After I confirmed that I was pregnant, she then proceeded to ask me several times to show her my belly. Now, different therapists advocate setting different boundaries with clients, but I'm pretty sure that lifting up one's shirt to show a pregnant stomach would be ill-advised by nearly any clinician. So, I kept my shirt down. Thus thwarted, the nine-year old made several attempts to photograph my clothed-stomach with her mother's cell-phone camera. g-unit's first run-in with the paparazzi. I think I successfully avoided/deflected a direct shot. Something tells me that therapy with this family is going to take on a whole new phase in the next few months.

On the home-visit prior to this, a mother who had already guessed about my pregnancy nearly squealed with delight when she saw me, saying "ohhhh, look! you're showing more!" Yes, I am. And I probably will every week from here on out. Her son had also guessed about my pregnancy. His reaction was a little more hostile. He "accidentally" hit a wiffle ball directly at my stomach. No more wiffle ball therapy for him.

And then there was my favorite pregnancy comment of the day. On my way home from said home visits, I decided I needed to stop at my favorite bakery and get a cupcake(it was right on the way, I swear). Things had pretty much gone downhill at the final appointment of the day after I thwarted the child from unwanted photographs and belly-viewing, and I needed a treat to get through my hour-long drive home. An older gentleman held the door open for me at the bakery and asked how I was feeling, as he unabashedly looked at my stomach and nodded toward it. He then continued to state that I was a beautiful mother-to-be, and hoped I would continue to feel well.
A cupcake and a compliment at the end of a long day can go quite a way in lifting this pregnant lady's spirits. (hint hint, B.)

The pics

Here they are...

I was going to choose the best, but decided to just go ahead and post them all. The alien-like ones are frontal views, looking down at the baby. The profiles are pretty self-explanatory. Note that you can see a little foot kicking in the left corner of one of the profiles, and you can see the hand in two of the others. Pretty neat, huh?

Showing off for the camera

In the words of our sonographer, we have a little "squirmer." During the ultrasound yesterday, B and I were witness to countless flips, rolls, and somersaults as g-unit showed off for his/her proud parents. Going into the ultrasound, I thought we might see an arm or leg moving if we were lucky, so it was exciting for me to unexpectedly see the acrobatics of our little one. And it sure confirms that the small flutters and kicks I suspected to be movement are indeed rumblings from the "squirmer." If this level of activity keeps up outside of the womb, B and I are going to be given a run for our money--probably quite literally!

The ultrasound showed that everything is developing perfectly. Phew! No cause for concern or follow-up. As continuing evidence of my naive, first-time mother status, I must say I was pretty amazed at all the tiny measurements and calculations the sonographer does during this process. I had no idea they would be measuring structures like the baby's leg bone, arm bone, heart, stomach, and brain. Each just centimeters long or wide, but still apparently perfectly formed. I probably found the heart to be the most captivating of the measurements. To see it beating steadily, and to be able to view all four clearly distinguished chambers was pretty unreal. After all, how many times in life are we really given a view of any beating heart, nevermind a heart that is beating inside oneself?

As for me, I was also happy to have confirmation that all of the ice cream, pickles, and chinese food in which I have indulged (remember my mantra: "it's not for me, it's for the baby") haven't led to weight gain out of the normal range. B and I don't have a scale in the house, so I was beginning to worry a little about that. Now it's full steam ahead to Halloween candy--okay, I already bought one bag of candy corn--and the subsequent holiday food (again, remember the mantra)!

Pics from the ultrasound to follow next week. B needs to scan them and then I'll post them ASAP.

Yours in rockin' and rollin' from the underbelly,
M and g-unit

PS. No, we didn't find out the sex. Could have, but didn't. I told B if he wasn't there I probably would've caved and asked for them to tell me. As with so many things in our life together, good thing B was there with me.

Hello in there!

I think that g-unit has started communicating from the uterine netherworld. Which is an exciting, yet extremely odd, feeling. In part because he/she is so close, actually being inside me, and yet it's currently a one-way "communication." Maybe using the word "communication" is even a stretch, but this is the closest we'll get for another few months. Every time I feel a little flutter (or at least what I'm perceiving as baby movement), I wish that I could do something to communicate back or encourage more movement. Some sort of morse code on my stomach that we could use to message back and forth. Just so I could let g-unit know that I was listening and paying attention. I'm not quite up to the talking-to-my-stomach-out-loud stage. And I'm not 100% sure that I ever will be.

So far, I'm still a tiny bit unsure that what I'm feeling is the baby moving. But with every day that I feel more, I gain confidence that I'm not imagining things or experiencing some freak digestive distress. The sensation began at night a few weeks ago, when I rolled over onto my stomach and thought I felt some movement. That was an isolated event until pretty recently. Then I started thinking that I felt more and more little bumps and bubbles every night when I would lay down on the couch or in bed. Yesterday marked a big change, as I experienced that same feeling during the day, and throughout the day. Maybe g-unit possesses some innate, unspoken connection with my thoughts (no morse code required), too, because as I write these I'm feeling the first little pokes of the day. It's a pretty wild experience. And hard to explain. Various books, websites, friends have described it in terms such as bubbles, popcorn popping, or a goldfish swimming. Those are all pretty close, but I'd have to say it's a completely unique experience that is hard to characterize by any descriptor I've ever known. I'm hoping to reach a stage soon where B can feel the movement with his hand on my stomach. Then we can both tap messages to and from g-unit. ;)

Not baby pics, but...

at least they're still pictures. And that's what blog readers really want, right?

From our trip to the Pacific Northwest.

In descending order: B with the totem poles in Stanley Park, view of Vancouver from Stanly Park, me standing in the hollow tree at Stanley Park, and me and B (and in utero g-unit) at the Roller's house looking out toward Mount Rainier. Exciting, yes? More to come later. Including an ultrasound pic on Sept 20th--mark your calendars! ;)

A world of elastic!

Elastic waistbands, that is.

As I write this, I'm sitting in new found comfort. No more constricted waist, holding my breath, and wondering if my pants will stay up unbuttoned. (The answer to this, I learned recently is, no, the pants will not stay up because the zipper will fall. And then I will need to hold something in front of me and rush to the bathroom to hold my breath, yank the zipper up, and squish the button into the buttonhole.) Alas, those days are over. I have entered the world of maternity wear. And it's a surprisingly fashionable world. I owe my comfort and new fashion sense to the generosity of recent mom-times-two, Julie. Julie's husband Paul dropped off four large containers of maternity clothes for me this weekend, after Julie gave birth to their second child a few weeks ago. It didn't take long for me to open these boxes and bags with the eagerness of a child on Christmas morning. As I oohed and ahhed over my new wardrobe Brian thanked his lucky stars that this in-home shopping spree hadn't cost him a cent. My Mr. Cheap, Green, and Happy. And so, getting dressed in the morning is now a matter of excitement, rather than dread. No further need to contemplate which clothes I'm most likely to squeeze into, only the thrill of glimpsing an array of new items from which I select a comfortable, flattering ensemble. Thank you, Julie and Paul!

While I clearly value the material support offered in the form of these new clothes, this experience has also introduced a new element of being a cared-for member of a new community--a community of mothers. Being the oldest child, I've only occasionally been the recipient of hand-me-down clothes or hand-me-down advice. Surely I would not have valued the second-hand nature of clothes, furniture, or worldly wisdom quite as much as a younger person. But as I enter this new phase of my life, I've felt very thankful to be embraced by this constellation of mothers. Whether it's the maternity clothes, the knowledge, the offers for trading child care, or just the sense of being thought of by others, it's been an experience that provides even more a feeling of relief, comfort, and support than those wonderful elastic waistbands.

Oh, the places you'll go

15 weeks into pregnancy, and here I am planning our child's future travel itinerary. Locations where I've travelled, but B hasn't; places we've traveled together; geographies we still hope to explore in the future. 15 weeks. Imagine the plans I'll have devised by the time g-unit makes his or her first real trip into the light of day. Nevermind at 15 months or years. But I suppose this is part of the journey that I've embarked on, as well. Finding a way to balance between dreaming of possibilities for our child and allowing him or her to create them independently. And I'm sure thoughts of travel are just the beginning--there's always those other details like education, career, lifestyle. At the heart of it all, though, I just hope for g-unit to experience all of the opportunities I've been fortunate enough to experience, like travel. And if we get a postcard from Turkey some day 20 years down the road, then that's icing on the cake.

This recent bout of introspection was prompted by our return from a week-long trip to the Pacific Northwest. We were there first and foremost to celebrate the wedding of Elizabeth, my friend, teammate, and roomate from college. The wedding was beautiful, and being in Seattle for the first time was pretty awesome. After the wedding, we drove up to Vancouver, BC. Another awesome city.

Some highlights of g-unit's in utero firsts:

• Plane ride. Cross-country, no less. He/she is already a trooper.
• Walk down the aisle. g-unit was more visible than ever, courtesy of an a-line bridesmaid dress with sash that accented his/her growing space requirements.
• Meeting with the Williams friends. I like to think g-unit was waving right back in response to the hellos and belly pats.
• Border crossing. Into Canada. Next time we leave the country together a passport for him/her will probably be required.
• Trip to the casino! If mom and dad can't afford diapers in six months it's because we blew it all on the slot machines. ;)

All in all, it was a wonderful week. We spent a lot of time outdoors, visited with new and old friends, and enjoyed the unending generosity of Elizabeth's family. I'm hoping to post some pictures in the next week or so, stay tuned.

Measuring life in 3-month increments

For many of us, we tend to live life with some awareness of the passage of time, and increments of time in particular. Weeks until vacation, years married, work deadlines, and happy occasions. But for me, pregnancy has certainly tapped into that natural inclination in a new way. This week I said good-bye to the first trimester and welcomed in the second. Three months down, six to go. And I've got to say, I will not miss the first trimester. All-day "morning" sickness, sheer exhaustion, growing out of my regular jeans but not yet looking visibly pregnant, and of course the anxiety of wondering if something will go wrong in that tenuous period of pregnancy. I've heard that the second trimester is the most blissful of the trimesters, and I'm looking forward to the experience.

Already, I've bid adieu to the morning sickness and overwhelming need to sleep, and the difference is remarkable. Food tastes good again--maybe even better than before--which is a huge relief to someone who enjoys cooking and eating as much as I do. One of the memories from mid-first-trimester that B and I will likely carry with us is the moment when I stared (or maybe glared) across the dinner table at him with a look of utter disgust. He asked what was going on, and I couldn't help but respond honestly: "Watching you eat that piece of chicken makes me want to throw up." I was never revolted by B himself, but it's probably hard not to take that sort of thing personally when it comes from your wife. Needless to say, B's been unbelievably helpful and supportive through the ups and downs of those first three months. I feel incredibly thankful for this, and sometimes feel like I'll need to make it up to him at another point. But then I remember what the labor and delivery process will be like. And the feedings every two hours after g-unit arrives. And I think, "then again, maybe it all evens out in the end."

In the meantime, bring on the second-trimester bliss!

It's not for me, it's for the baby

When I've thought of blogs in the past, words and phrases like "narcissistic," "egocentric," and "who cares about your life?" have popped into my head. But, over time my opinion has shifted. I started avidly reading friends' blogs and realized the answer to "who cares?" was "I do." My husband started a blog, and found a new community. And now, as we're expecting our first child, I've found myself doing the unthinkable, and creating my very own blog. Of course, it's not really for me, it's for the baby. (And all the baby's adoring fans.)

For the purposes of this blog, our dear child will be called "little g-unit," invoking 1) the initial of our last name, 2) the fact that we're not finding out the sex, and 3) my poor taste in musical interests/pop culture. For those who don't know, G-Unit is a hip-hop artist. Of whom I'm not a particularly big fan, but the name stuck with me when thinking about our growing G family. The first of many very uncool things I will do as a mother, I'm sure.

Last week, g-unit and I went for our 12-week check-up. Happily, all is well. We have confirmation that both g-unit and I are healthy and fulfilling our respective tasks for "production" (as B likes to call the miraculous process of growing a life inside oneself). And with this confirmation, our comfort level with sharing our news has grown. Not that this really stopped us from telling many family and friends almost the moment we found out we were expecting. As well as random strangers on occasion. Like the waitress B told when I was 7 weeks pregnant. She commented that we didn't eat that much, and he explained "she's pregnant, so she's having trouble eating." B's ability to keep news quiet--especially great, life-changing news--is virtually non-existent. It's one of his charms. And I wonder if it will be one of the charms of our dear little g-unit. Only time will tell...

Until the next post,
MKG and g-unit