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.