The Real Reason I Want the Bean

Rebecca sent me this video ages ago but I still watch it all the time to keep me laughing. I can't even describe how excited I am to re-live this world through the bean's eyes. Everything seems like so much more fun to babies. Enjoy!!!

Now that Food has Replaced my Sex Life, I Can't even Get into my Own Pants

We're going full disclosure on this post people. This blog has replaced therapy and I have got a ton of scary things running through my mind. So, from here on out I am going to sacrifice dignity and tell it like it is. Just a warning.

I had a doctors appointment on Monday. Everything is absolutely fine and the bean is doing fabulous. I actually don't mind Drs appointments because I get to hear his little heartbeat and it makes everything I am doing worthwhile, a nice confirmation. What I don't like about Drs visits is the scale. They weigh me every time. It totally sucks. Don't get me wrong, I know that I am suppose to gain weight. Pregnancy means gaining weight, eating for two, second and third helpings, and all that good stuff. Normal weight gain is anywhere from 25-35 lbs but Dr. Diaz says she has seen women gain up to 75 lbs.

I honestly haven't been limiting myself at all. I have always loved food and nothing has changed. If I want ice cream, I have it. Chocolate milkshakes, bring it on. Cookies and milk, almost nightly. Dairy products have been my weakness. I finally bought maternity jeans and not a moment too late. I was determined never to wear maternity but once I discovered the comfort of elastic panelled pants I don't think I will ever wear jeans with a fly again. However, at this weigh-in I almost cried. I gained a total of 15 lbs so far. Yes, I know, I'm 6 months. I should have gained that much. But holy shit, 15lbs. That's a lot by pre-pregnant standards! The numbers are daunting. Granted most of the weight is baby and the rest is in my bra but, hey, that's still a lot.

With this new found weight, I have been feeling more and more unattractive. I know I look good for pregnant, not to be conceited, but I am the only one that gets to see me naked and its pretty scary. I am all belly. From the back, I still look like me but then I turn and there's this solid bump (small hill might be more accurate at the moment). To be honestly, I am glad that I don't have anyone to have sex with because I think I would feel too uncomfortable. Although, I do want to have sex. My sex drive has finally returned y'all!!! Praise Jesus!! I thought it had disappeared forever. During the first trimester, I turned back into a virgin. The second trimester was better but no one to do it with. With the third trimester just starting, it might be too soon to tell. But so far, I feel the rumblings that make me want to prowl but just feel too damn fat to get off the couch.

I don't know how women with husbands handled all this. I feel like it would be too much responsibility and effort to keep myself comfortable and him satisfied. Maybe if I had a husband I wouldn't give a hoot about his satisfaction. I consider myself lucky that I can stay on the couch. Although, a back rub would be nice by someone who was legally bound to be at my every whim. I guess I am going to have to settle for food cravings and sex dreams. Cause those dreams are *almost* as satisfying and I don't have to get out of bed. The best of both worlds!!!

Veteran's Day

Another message from Afghanistan:

"Today was my first Veteran’s Day as a veteran. I had the day off so I attend the ceremony held on post. It was a really nice and simple ceremony that had some music and some speakers. I started my morning by waking around 1am, crawling out of bed and throwing on some warm clothing. Of course now with the cold weather it’s always a little hard getting out of your sleeping bag where its nice and warm. Plus with the cold mornings you are always a little stiff and achy. I walked to the main road and found my company lining both sides of the streets. Two soldiers who I ordered not to be up at this early hour because they had work to do in the morning were standing there. Of course they looked at me knowing they disobeyed my order, but how could I punish those who felt they had to be with the other soldiers to pay there respects. Sometimes your best soldiers are the ones who break rules from time to time. I should know. The group came to attention and the bag pipes started to play amazing grace. Seven fallen soldiers caskets drove slowly past as we saluted them. Unlike many other times, this time I could not hold back my tears and just started weeping. A few days ago I was a mission, like normal trying to accomplish what needed to be done, at times frustrated that the troops on the ground were moving so slow. Twenty or so minutes after I left they were attacked and these young soldiers died.

I think the speaker at today’s ceremony hit the nail on the head when he discussed how none of us consider ourselves heroes, but we feel that those who made that ultimate sacrifice are the heroes that provide us with our freedom. It was a moving ceremony. So if you all can, take a moment today and think about those soldiers who have fallen, if you come across a veteran take the second to thank them. I personally now feel that the best way we can pay our respects to the veterans is not as complicated as sending packages or trying to go above and beyond, of course that is always nice, but more simply to live our lives to the best of our ability, to make the time for our friends and families, to do the things these young soldiers long to do, these things we often take for granted."

“War drew us from our homeland in the sunlit springtime of our youth. Those who did not come back alive remain in perpetual springtime-forever young and a part of them is with us always.” Author unknown.

Break on Through to the Other Side

Welcome November 10th!!!

First, this day is my 6th month mark!! I have successfully completed 6 months of pregnancy, only 3 more months to go. I really don't have any complaints. It hasn't been that bad so far. Most women have told me that the most uncomfortable and unbearable months are still yet to come. Bring them on, I say. Lets do it!!!

Second, we broke ground on the baby suite!!! My parents, as kindly as they are, agreed to add on a room for the baby and I to live in. Right now, we are a little crowded and with a bean (and possibly Becca) it will get even more crowded. My parents, brilliant and always resourceful, decided (with my prodding) to build an extra bedroom downstairs, re-do the bathroom, and install a new deck. Since I am going to be staying with them infinitely, because lets face it I need all the help I can get, I feel this is the best situation for all of us. I can get locked quietly in the bean's baby suite and not disturb the rest of the household.

Three Cheers to the next 3 months and my amazing parents!!!!

Rhymes with Shmashmortion

The other day someone went up to my mother and called me a conservative. From what I know, they have been debating politics for years now, him on the far right and my mother on the left. He vehemently stated that because I didn't have an abortion I was conservative, pro-life, and had joined the Bushie bandwagon. I felt like I need to take some time to address the issue. Because I don't like it when people call me conservative and really don't like it when they talk trash to my momma.

I am pro-choice. I always have been and always will be. I never imagined that I would be in this situation. I don't think anyone plans for it. I had to take three pregnancy tests before admitting to myself that I needed to go to the doctor. Denial was my best friend and the longer I ignored the situation, the longer I didn't need to think about it. When I finally did come to terms with the pregnancy, I had a very difficult decision to make and for me it wasn't black or white. I was always on the fence. I think that is why it took me so long to acknowledge I was pregnant because I knew, right from the beginning, that it wasn't going to be an easy road for me.

Abortion used to be a taboo word but today it has become commonplace due to the sheer volume, 42 million performed in 2003 world wide. I can only assume that the number has increased per year. Think about that number for a minute, 42 Million. To make matters worse nearly 48% were considered unsafe. 70,000 women die annually from unsafe abortions and 5 million women will suffer permanent injury. I am not saying that this happens in the US. In North America, there are 33 abortions for every 100 live births and nearly all of them are safe. I got these facts from the NY Times. With that many abortions happening annually it becomes just an everyday procedure; common; a quick answer to a difficult question; a solution to a messy situation.

Originally, I thought that abortion was the right choice for me. It was not the right time, I wasn't ready, its going to be too hard. I wanted more for my child then I had growing up and I did not think that I could provide that. It was an answer to Penny's "problem" as they say in Dirty Dancing. No hurt feelings, no disappointing conversations, no sacrifices made, life continues as planned for everyone involved. But the more I thought about it, dreamt about it, went to therapy about it, my opinion changed. I labored (no pun intended) on this for about 2 months. I didn't want to make a hasty decision that I was going to regret. A decision that would effect my entire life regardless of the outcome for the child. The more I thought about it, the more attached I became to what was happening inside my body, the more connected I became with this child. Technically, it still was a fetus, unable to survive without my body but to me it was my child that I needed to protect and nurture. I believe that when you accept a child into your life you grow another heart to accommodate for all the love that child will bring into your world. That one heart will not suffice. When the child's heart is broken so is yours, twice over. Once I connected with this child, my second heart complete, I knew abortion was no longer an option for me.

I wanted this child regardless of the circumstances and messy problems. Our families, our support, our friends, all of us together could provide a place in this world, a home, and all the love that this child could ever need. My relationships with others is what I cherish in my life. What makes life worth living. Yes, having a child is a hard and difficult road but I was willing and eager to take that road in hopes that our child will bring much more joy, love, and happiness to all our lives then pain or regret.

Keeping this child was my choice. I might not have chosen to get pregnant but I did choose to make this child a part of our world. That was the right choice for me, the choice that allowed me to look myself in the mirror every morning. That is why I am pro-choice. Because I don't know what I would have done if the circumstances were even a little different. Some may say that I am being nonchalant, that I am being way too optimistic and that I am unrealistic. But I have to be because I refuse to live my life shrouded in negativity and regret. I have searched my heart and pro-choice for me meant the choice of life for one little bean.

Bump Watch

Many have asked....so here are some new ones. This is at 25 weeks, about 5 1/2 months.

Beating the Beeties

The results are in. I officially don't have gestational diabetes. For those that don't know, gestational diabetes is the most common side effect of pregnancy. It effects 2% of women, which might not seem like much but there are a lot of preggo's out there. What happens is the mom becomes diabetic during pregnancy. The sugars that the mothers body can't break down go right to the baby resulting in large birth weights which is unhealthy. Big babies might not seem like a big deal but I wouldn't want a push out a 10 pounder that's for sure. Since the mom can't take any medication for it you have to regulate via diet. Usually it goes away after the baby is born but sometimes not.

Well, to test for this they first make you take a one hour glucose tolerance test. They take some blood then make you drink this nasty drink, sit for an hour, then take some more blood. I failed that one. Dr. Diaz told me not to worry that I was healthy (usually this effects women over 35 or those who are overweight) but that I would have to go take the three hour test to be sure. I kept telling myself not to worry but I did anyway. Being pregnant has made me a hypochondriac. Before I would get a cut and wouldn't go to the doctor until my arm fell off. Now, I stub my toe and have to call to make sure it won't effect the baby. Ahh, the beginnings of motherhood.

The three hour test was a ball of fun. I got my blood taken 4 times, peed 4 times, and had to drink this sugary, flat, orange soda all in 3.5 hours. Just what I always dreamed of doing on my Saturday off. The worse part was I had to fast. No eating or drinking from midnight before. Word to the wise, telling a preggo not to eat is like running around a lions den dressed as a steak. It ain't pretty. But the end of my test I was shaking and ready to eat a small child. I kid you not, ravenous is not an accurate description.

Of course this happened to fall right around Halloween. Every piece of candy that I saw taunted me. I wanted to eat it but felt guilty if I did have the beeties and was hurting the bean. I have the biggest sweet tooth ever and crave chocolate all the time. No joke, I go through about a gallon of chocolate milk a week. It is my one vice left standing. Thankfully, the results of the 3 hour test came back today and I passed!!! So, all the candy I put in the freezer will be thawed and I will continue to indulge on a piece of candy a day.

Thoughts from Afghanistan

When I first started this online journal I wanted other people to contribute and do guest blogs like a talk show. No one has approached me about this yet. But I recently got an email from Terry and I thought it would be nice to put it into the bean's archive that presently is this blog. (My thought was to make this blog and your comments into a book for when he turns 18, or older depending on content). Many of you have been asking about Terry and how he has been doing. Maybe I can answer this through his inspirational words because I can't do justice to what he does everyday. Hope you enjoy and Terry isn't mad.

"Things are still going well, just a lot on my mind. I always think of the scene in Forrest Gump when he is describing Vietnam, during the day there is always something to do and somewhere to go, but the nights are lonely ones. I think lately my nights are frustrating because you have all the time in the world to think and ironically there is absolutely nothing you can do. Life is on hold. Normally that never bothered me, but I’m starting to feel old.

I’m not one to really argue politics anymore like I use to, I tend to stay silent believing that my work and actions are the right one and accepting that there are those who are truly ignorant to some of the realities of our world. The day before I left for flight school I visited the world trade center. Every time I leave for something in the military, I admit I get nervous because I have no idea what to expect. And again prior to deploying I visited the world trade center. Whatever my sacrifice, it is no where near what those people and their families sacrificed that day and I feel the need to remind myself that for the motivation to face whatever fears I may have. My first visit to the trade center I saw sheets of plywood used as the barrier. Pictures of the victims stapled to them, notes left for them. More recently, when I visited the barricade was now a steel fence, with a memorial. The subway station was opened, which I was amazed by. I would venture to guess that one day when I visit again, maybe in years to come with the little guy, we will then see a large memorial. Point being, there is the American dream. There is rebirth and building, and the promise of a better future. The American dream is simply hope, hope that against all odds things will one day be better. Its is in our blood, brought to us by our family members who came to the U.S. wanting something more. I challenge all of you to think about that.

Its something I always believed, I believed we were in Afghanistan to rebuild the country based on books I have read, but to see it with your own eyes is to have a different opinion. The other day I flew over a castle occupied by Alexander the great, I can go the market place and purchase riffles from the turn of the century left here by the British when they tried to occupy the country, as I fly I can see the burnt remains of Russian tanks all over the country. Kabul the prominent city I read of, is still in ruins from the Taliban. In this country, centuries of war are still present, there is no rebirth, their history is in plain site. There is no hope, and when the member of the parliament told me that America is there last chance, I know believe that and know that its true. The world trade center has come a long way since that September morning, but that hope for something better doesn’t exist here, which is tragic because these are a good people, they just lack what many of us take for granted in my opinion. So I’m proud to be a small part of this."

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.