Ode to Flatulence

Anyone who knows me well understands my immaturity when it comes to farting. I think that farting is perhaps the funniest thing that the human body can do. No matter how serious I am trying to be, please fart, and you will have me cracking up huge belly laughs. I can't help it. I clearly never grew out of the potty humor phase. I find it hysterical. There was a time in college when I thought I was growing out of it. When I would bite my tongue and fain disgust. I was definitely wrong.

One of the many joys of pregnancy is that I can blame pretty much anything on it. I don't feel well - pregnancy. I physically cannot move from this couch - pregnancy. I most definitely need seconds and thirds of that ice cream - pregnancy. Farting is no exception. I really try not to use the pregnancy excuse much because people already treat me like I have turned helpless and fragile overnight and I don't want to encourage that. However, whatever self respect I had on the issue of farting before pregnancy is long gone. I love it. I love feeling like I can rip one when ever and where ever I want. Sometimes, I honestly can't control it. Seriously. But most of the time, I can and don't want to because I find farting way too amusing. Its like old people and babies when they just fart, without warning, without explanation, and continue on with life as if nothing happened.

My family and poor Lizzy have taken the brunt of this. I have fallen into a routine when I get home from work. I find Lizzy and fart on her. Or I wait for a quiet moment around the dinner table and let 'em fly. Yes, its immature and I probably should know better but I am getting fat and uncomfortable and the little joys that keep me laughing are worth humiliating myself over. At first when I would uncontrollably fart at work, I would get embarrassed and couldn't believe it. But more recently, I have embraced it and find it quite amusing. I am not saying that I fart all the time but if one just happens to squeak by my radar, no big deal. What is getting more embarrassing is that I crack up, like milk coming out of my nose laughing. Who over the age of 12 does that?!?

Honestly, it is beginning to be my favorite pastime. Clearly, I don't get out much. I want to give everyone fair warning. If you happen to come across me in a pretty fowl mood, please fart. I will laugh. I can't help myself. Hell, I am chuckling even thinking about it.

The Rumor Mill

Despite pregnancy hormones, I don't get upset easily. I have acquired a tough skin over my 25 years and have learned not to react hastily. I knew that in having this child I would meet opposition. I knew that it was going to be a hard climb for me. I knew, walking into this, that I would be faced with questions and judgements. What I didn't anticipate was the rumor mill and how harshly I would be judged.

I don't care what people think of me, never really have. I can handle what people dish out. Frankly, if you are spreading rumors about me then you are no friend of mine. The people that I love and respect know the whole truth of my situation and that is what is important to me. I don't feel that I have to justify my actions.

However, it does upset me when people have a blatant lack of respect for the people that have been touched and affected by this pregnancy. This was a difficult situation for everyone. Being small minded, dishonest, petty, and rude have no place here. High school anitcs should be left there.

If you must slander me, by all means I won't stop you. But remember it is not just about me anymore. There is a child, families, and our loved ones involved. If you don't have the guts to confront to me in person then maybe you shouldn't be speaking at all. Don't you think that I have enough to deal with besides petty bullshit. Shame on you.

I did it!!!!

I finally worked up enough courage to tell my boss. It has been getting increasing difficult to hide this growing bump I have. I knew my time was up but I just couldn't get it out. I had been pumping myself up all week to tell her justifying that bad news is received better at the end of the week. I was aiming for Thursday. Then she tells me that she is not in Thursday and I am not in on Friday. Shit. So, I went back to my desk and thought about it for a minute then walk down to her office.

Wouldn't you know it she is totally fine with everything. I was having so much anxiety about telling her because I didn't know how she was going to react. She congratulated me, gave me a hug and said we would work everything out and not to worry. By this time I had worked myself up into such a tizzy that I was sweating like crazy and beet red. So much for looking good.

I cannot even begin to tell you how relieved I am. A weight has been lifted. My final obstacle in the 'letting people know' category has been checked off my list. Thank God I don't have any more people to tell. I don't think I could handle it.

The Next Broadway Diva

When I first felt the bean moving it kinda freaked me out. Most of the books describe it as a butterfly in your stomach which makes it sound pleasant. I thought he felt more like a fish swimming in my inside goo. Like the metaphor they always give you about the beginning of time and amoebas multiplying in a swamp. Ironically, the first time I felt him move was Sept. 4th also the night I said goodbye to Terry. There were many times before that when I thought I felt him move but usually it turned out to be gas. But more on that later.

Since then the little bean has been getting bigger and much more active. There are days when this guy launches full assaults on my liver, lungs, stomach, or anything else that is in his reach. The other day he was underneath my rib cage. I kid you not. I couldn't get comfortable all day. I felt like I had to keep my chest puffed out to give him room. When he finally moved it was a sweet sigh of relief. There are days when he feels like kicking up his heels (and elbows and knees) and other days when he is just chillin'. However, there are times when I distinctly feel like he is reacting to outside stimulus and having a good ole dance party in the womb.

Case #1: Mary Poppins. I went to see Mary Poppins on Broadway with Hayley. An overall enjoyable experience, I left with a hop to my step and a smile on my face. Unfortunately, I missed most of the first act because I could not concentrate for the life of me. Every single kick-turn that happened onstage was also happening inside me. Especially during 'Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious', I am telling you this kid has a flair for the dramatics already.

Case #2: Across the Universe. Aunt Becca and I went to see the new Beatles movie musical Across the Universe. Anyone who has seen it knows that its not all music. But every time a song came on - BAM!! He's dancing, moving, turning somersaults in his little aquatic habitat. Terry claims that I can't hold good taste in music against him but honestly it is very hard to concentrate on anything when my belly feels like something out of Alien.

The other day I experienced him getting the hiccups for the first time. Yes, the hiccups. He is testing out his swallowing skills on amniotic fluid. It was the weirdest thing yet. The best way I can describe it was small, timely, muscle spasms, in a specific spot. So cool, but yet again I could not finish sentences until the hiccups were gone. All the books say that babies are the most active between 20-28 weeks because there is still enough room for them to move around. I guess I should appreciate my lack of concentration and enjoy the bean letting me know he's doing OK and loving life.

Bump Watch

A lot of people have been asking me how big I am. Trying to describe on the phone that my clothes no longer fit, my pants are held together by rubber bands, and it looks like a volleyball under my shirt is not quite cutting it anymore. So, I am going to post pictures of my growing belly every once and a while so you get the full image.

This one was just taken on Sunday the 14th. As you can see I am getting bigger by the second. I refuse to wear maternity clothing but I think for comforts sake I might need to make concessions. I am just starting to get strangers noticing. I am sure the belly rubbing will come soon.

Just for reference, a normal pregnancy is 40 weeks long or 9 months. I am at 22 weeks or 5 months. Only 18 weeks to go. On the positive side, I am more than half way there. But Feburary is going to be here WAY too fast.

Things Your Mom didn't Tell You - Part 1

Holy Nightmares Batman!!! The experts say that due to hormonal changes you dream more frequently, intensely and vividly during pregnancy. That is perhaps the understatement of the year. I live my dreams every night. They are real, I swear. They last for hours and every second of them are as real as this moment right now. Never have I ever had dreams quite this real before.

Last night, I had a dream that a very close friend of mine was dying and I had one night to say goodbye. I can describe every detail to you, where I was, what I was wearing, what he was wearing, etc. I was hysterical beyond reconciliation. I woke up at 3am sobbing into my pillow and picked up the phone to call him to make sure he was OK, absolutely convinced there was something wrong. Then, reasoning it was a bad idea because he was probably asleep and wouldn't react kindly to a crying phone call at 3 in the morning. I calmed myself back to sleep just in time to wake up for work. Immediately this morning I emailed to make sure he was OK. Which, he is, clearly. But I needed to make sure because in my mind he was dead or dying. He assured me that he was not dead and if he was dying, he sure had a lot of work to do.

The articles that I have read on it say that the top dreams moms-to-be have are anxiety ridden dreams related to having a baby. The second top dreams are sex related. One women exclaimed that her sex dreams with Antonio Banderas were so vivid that she felt like she was cheating on her husband every night. I don't have a husband. Hell, I don't have a boyfriend! Why can't I have those dreams? It would be much more pleasant to wake up feeling satisfied and refreshed after a lovely romp in the hay then stressing over people dying. I guess I will just have to keep dreaming.

The history of the Bean

I had my first sonogram when I was 8 weeks pregnant, July 6th to be exact. I had no idea what to expect and went to my doctors by myself. As she slathered up my flat belly (I can say that now cause it ain't lying so flat anymore) and the image appeared on the screen. I had no idea what I was looking at.

So, this is what I am seeing and I am thinking, OK, it looks like a big black blob. Dr. Diaz is looking at me all expectantly like I am suppose to start bursting out in tears with how joyful I am. Meanwhile, all I can think is that I am going to be giving birth to a bean. A Lima bean. Well, at least it won't hurt. What are my parents going to think? I put red parenthesis around the spot you are suppose to be looking at. I found that out later on. Needless to say, I disappointed Dr Diaz for not being overly emotional and went home with this photograph. The first sonogram. I showed mom and explained to her that much to our surprise Terry and I had spawned a bean. Hence forth, we began calling our little growing man the bean. You might hear me reference the bean which has become his nickname and now you understand why.

My second sonogram was on July 24th. Thankful, this one looked slightly more human, which was a big relief. You could actually make out the head, legs, and hands when it moved. Yes, it was moving. If there ever was a doubt in my mind it was effectively erased when I saw the bean moving. I became engrossed, obsessed, and quite attached. This picture I took home and flashed around when friends and family didn't believe that I was pregnant. It currently resides on our refrigerator like my proud hand made drawing.

The last one that I had was again on the scary side which I totally blame on the 3D machine. Mom and the sisters, Becca and Lizzy, came with me to this one. It was pretty swanky. We were in a big room with a leather couch, soft lullaby music, and the ultrasound was projected on a flat screen TV mounted on the wall for all to enjoy. They measured the hemispheres of the brain, the four chambers of the heart, the spine, bones, all of it. The doctor said his heart was big and perfect, that we were going to have a romantic on our hands. Every time a foot or a hand came up, I was counting like a obsessive compulsive. They also told us it was a boy which made all of us start crying. I really wanted a boy. I don't quite know how they knew but they said that they could see the testicles and penis bud. They pointed at the penis and of course being me I said "Well I hope it gets bigger". Yeah, go me.

We were in there for over an hour at which point the technician turns and gives Rebecca a DVD of most of the sonogram. Pretty wicked cool right?! Word to the wise when watching this: it is very difficult to decipher unless you use your imagination. It is like one of those pictures that are all blurry but if you stare at it long enough it makes an image. Look for: the heart beating, you can see that a bunch of times. The legs very long, crossed at the ankles and you can see him move a little bit. She does a lot of stuff trying to make the image 3D (the sepia toned image) where you can the see the head face on. She said that either he was praying or sucking his thumb with his arms and hands very close to his face. He looks like a little skeltal but give this one pound guy some more time to cook and he'll be a healthy baby bean! So, have fun and remember be imaginative.

Me, my big self

I started seeing a therapist when I found out I was pregnant. She has been amazing and every week I feel lighter. At one point I was seeing her two times a week. Recommended by a friend and not having health insurance when I first found out, I didn't really care what I paid her as long as I could get a little normalcy. I didn't want this constant buzzing in my head about life changing decisions. I was so focused on not hurting other people that I was not focusing on myself. She helped me focus on myself and my needs.

Since things have started to settle down (somewhat) I decided that I can't justify spending $400 a month on my therapy, especially with a bean on the way. Working with social workers, I much appreciate the concept of therapy. I do believe that you should seek expert opinions when your life seems to get away from you. I had a very difficult decision to make and was extremely overwhelmed. She helped me through that decision and I am grateful. However, I feel better now. I am happy about this pregnancy and truly enjoying it. I could justify spending the money when I was feeling overwhelmed, I just can't anymore.

So, this week I broke up with her. It was very hard for me but necessary and my mind was made up. Week after week I seemed to have less and less to talk to her about. But right before I left her office she goes, "We still have so much to work on. I definitely think you have some dependency issues. You seem to be unable to allow yourself to depend on others. Think about it" Umm, what?!? Nice way to spring this on me right after I cancelled my sessions. I can't stop thinking about it. Is she right or was she just trying to get me to stay for more sessions?

Today, I find myself analyzing most of my relationships. I strive to be independent. I always have. My terrible two catch phrase was 'Me, My big self do it'. Maybe that still lingers with me today. I don't believe I am afraid of dependency. I understand, especially now, that I will need to depend on the support of my family and friends to allow myself to have somewhat of a personal life after this child is born. I appreciate and relish that my family is allowing me to depend on them. However, I don't think it is right for me to rely on them all the time. I am 25. I should be independent.

Maybe the answer lies beyond my family. Maybe there is no answer. I do depend and delegate when I need to. I tend to rely on myself for everything else. Which, I don't think is a bad thing. I think I need to chalk this off to she wanted more money and move on with my life. I know that I am not perfect and I definately could go to years and years of more therapy. And maybe, when I am making a little more money and not saving for a tremendous life change, I will. But for now....me, my big self can do it.

Registy!!!!

There is this infamous thing called a baby registry. I did not know much about said registry when I first got pregnant but in the next coming months I learn a lot about it. In a store you can make a wish list for all the things that you want for your baby and hopefully people will buy those things for you at your baby shower. It is quite lovely because then you get exactly what you want and not a ton of the same things.

However, I have been having a hard time. Because I simply do not know what I need, how much I need, what specific products are absolutely essential for a 2008 baby. Conveniently these stores give you a list of things they think you need, usually about 3 pages long. I never knew something so little would need so much. Anyway, there were a few things on the list that I thought were absolutely ridiculous that the baby experts deem essential for any new baby.

An example of these 'must have' items that didn't exist ten years ago....

The Wipe Warmer - wipes go in and then warmed to a nice temperature for your precious baby bottom. The purpose is if the babe is half asleep it might go back to sleep if you use a warm wipe on its ass instead of startling it with a cold one. I feel that wipes are a pretty good invention as it is. Besides I tend to think that the wipes might get brown or moldy in a warmer. Of course they probably invented something that doesn't allow them to get moldy for an additional $20.

The Floppy Seat - a fabric inlay for your shopping cart so little fingers stay safe. Generally, cool idea. But some of them are so freaking interactive that they gave me a migraine. They are cushioned, with toys, play music, light up, rattle, and make dinner all in a floppy seat. I totally want one cause I think they are totally unnecessary but a great way to prove to other moms that I have the coolest accessories.

The Wee Block, aka the Pee-Pee Tepee - your baby boys first jock cup, how cute. No really. These exist in all sizes and colors. This one in a fashionable "Wee Man" pattern. I saw another one that said "The Little Pisser". Specifically designed to prevent your lil'guy from peeing in your face. Put one of these over his little pecker during changing time and your safe. Seriously. Seriously, people.

Last but not least...The Hands Free Breast Pump - yes ladies, you can officially become a cow and get milked. I was horrified when I saw this. Horrified. Can you believe that things like this exist?!? Look at this picture. She is so happy being a cow, talking on the phone and getting work done!!! I am going to breast feed but that alone is scary enough. Making yourself into a milking machine is so degrading. I don't even have the words. I swear if anyone gets me this it better be a joke, cause there is no freaking way.

From the Beginning

I am going to try and start this blog thing. I have tried before without much avail but I am feeling positive about this time.

It has been a long 5 months. I was originally going to try to back track to fill everyone in on the past few months. But I think it is better to just move forward. If there is something that I would like to include that is in the past I will. A lot of things that happened but I don't want to regress. I need to move forward, so my blog will do the same.

So, bare with me. Here we go....