Happy new year!

Apologies for being so delinquent in posting here and commenting on your blogs....it's been, unsurprisingly, a very busy week.

I have been riding the emotional roller coaster. Like, I love the chicklette to death, but sometimes I'll just start crying for no reason. I know it's the hormones, and the fact that I'm sleep-deprived and recovering from, you know, CHILDBIRTH, but it still catches me by surprise how I can go from perfectly happy and content to a snorting mess inside of 5 minutes.

I have every intention of getting my birth story up soon -- before I forget what happened completely -- but for now, just a few random observations:

1. My favorite time(s) of the day are when the chicklette is awake and alert. I look in her eyes and the whole world just stops. Stupid baby songs spontaneously erupt from my mouth.

2. Baby gas is really funny. Sometimes you can hear her toot all the way across the house, and it's effing hilarious. Even if she does smell like a sulfur factory.

3. It's so nice to be able to see my feet again.

4. Pooping for the first time was so much more stressful than giving birth. And still I battle, as I sit here eating a bran muffin and drinking coffee. (You really didn't think I could get through a post without talking about poop, did you?)

5. Being out in public not pregnant is WEIRD. No one smiles at me anymore. I'm sure when I'm out with the baby it will be different, but I kind of miss the attention. The same attention I hated when I was pregnant. I tells ya, there's no pleasing me these days.

6. Confession: I went to Babies R' Us on Monday and parked in the "Stork Parking." I won't do it again, particularly now that my stitches feel better and I can walk somewhat normally, but it felt deliciously subversive.

7. Breastfeeding is hard. I'm sure I'll have much more on this later, but it confounds me that something supposedly so natural can be so difficult.

And speaking of, I'm off to wake the baby with a a diaper change (which, in case you didn't know, is apparently CHILD ABUSE judging by the amount of screaming it induces) and whip out the boobs. Which are taking over the world.

Happy new year!

The good, the bad, and the stinky

So, we're back from our chicklette-moon.

Let's start with the good, shall we? Late on Thursday afternoon, we checked in to the lovely Hotel Del Coronado on, you guessed it, Coronado Island. It's a lovely, historic, haunted hotel. I've always wanted to stay there. Nice, hunh?


As if that weren't enough, the Mr. in his charming charmingness managed to sweet talk his way into an upgrade to a suite. So we rang in the first night of our vacay looking out the window at this view:


Again, not bad. We watched the beach get invaded by Navy SEALS after dark (apparently they have the run of the island to train on as they wish), ate some totally carb-y Italian food, and went to sleep.

Things continued to look up the next day, as we got up early, hit Starbucks for a Pumpkin Spice Latte, and got to the San Diego Zoo nice and with PANDAS on the brain. No line, everything going well, pandas were cute, etc.

I should have known that furry panda butt was an Omen of Doom. About 10 yards outside of the panda exhibit, I started to feel funky. A little light-headed, a little hot (what else is new?), a little thirsty. I chalked it up to the fact that it was hot, I was pregnant, and, well, those two things seemed to be enough.

We made it to the nearest refreshment stand and I gulped down some water. And then immediately ran to the little pandas room to expel something looking strikingly similar to what that furry panda butt expelled right after I took that picture. It was not pretty -- in fact, the next person to enter the bathroom (while I was still moaning on the stall), exclaimed "UGH!"

Somehow we made it out of the Zoo (that place is FRICKIN' HILLY), and the Mr. drove us back to the hotel. I curled up in a fetal position and slept for two hours, thinking the worst was behind me (ha ha).

But no. I couldn't get to sleep that night, and had a vague feeling that something bad was going to happen. At about 4:00, it did. And then again at 5. And 6. I'm sure you get the picture. I DESTROYED the fancy bathroom. I woke up the poor Mr. (how he was still sleeping at this point was beyond me) and told him what was going on (although I'm pretty sure he got the picture as soon as he took his first conscious breath). He felt my forehead, determined that I was running a fever, got me dressed, and trucked me off to the ER.

Long story short, things are fine, baby is fine, my tummy is now fine, but I spent about 48 hours in lockdown with only Gatorade, bananas and dry toast (oh, and lots of expensive movies from the hotel TV) for company. I felt so bad for ruining the babymoon, and now owe the Mr. a very large (probably sexual) favor for the fact that he carried a specimen of my poop from the hotel back to the hospital for analysis. Is that love, or what?

So, the babymoon was not quite what we expected. But that's not even the worst part.

After ALL THAT POOPING, I was still up 4 pounds at my OB appointment this morning.

4 pounds. WHERE IS THE JUSTICE?!?!

Getting my a** kicked

Butt-kicking seems to be a theme this week. Let me count the ways:

1. Work. I am in my crazy time of the year at work, and have been struggling mightily to get everything done, keep my cool, and travel across time zones without the help of Tylenol PM. I think that last part has been the hardest.

2. Yoga. I went again on Wednesday, and did some more struggling trying to keep up with the other ladies, who are all 30+ weeks pregnant. How embarrassing is that?!? I keep hoping it will get easier.

3. The chicklette. [TMI alert!] As of yesterday, she has taken to kicking me in the ass -- from the inside. Little jabs all night long in my tailbone, and um, other places in the rear. I wish I could describe the sensation, as it's honestly the weirdest thing I've ever felt. Plus, it makes me feel like I have to poop ALL THE TIME, which, given my issues in that area, is like the biggest tease EVER.

Despite the multilateral ass-kicking, I am enjoying every minute of the journey. I may feel differently tomorrow, when I have to attend a wedding with my in-laws at which I cannot employ my usual in-laws coping mechanism (i.e., alcohol).

Hopefully there will be some good cake.

Weekend Updates

I’ve been a bad, bad blogger. I haven’t even THOUGHT about blogging for about a week. But trust me, you’re not missing much. To prove it, let me provide you with the highlights from my weekend.

1. Coming out to the in-laws. OK, this was actually pretty cool. It is nice to remember that to most normal (read: fertile) people, pregnancy is happy news, a cause for celebration, and not a worry-fest. We get to tell more family this weekend, and then my family in a couple of weeks. Hopefully it will continue to be fun.

2. Sleeping 10-11 hours on Friday and Saturday nights, and napping on both days.

3. Sleeping in a fancy hotel last night for work, without a cat in my grill at 4 a.m.

4. Pooping. Seriously, folks, this was probably the finest moment of my weekend. Ain’t pregnancy glamorous?

See? When 2 of the 4 highlights of your weekend involve being unconscious, and another involves a bodily function, your life has officially become uninteresting to others. But I guess I’d rather have this than the drama that was May.

I’ll see if I can come up with something better for this week. We have our first trimester screening on Thursday, so maybe some good pictures to share.

But no drama, please.

Can't live with 'em, can't live without 'em

Symptoms, I mean.

On Tuesday, I had my worst day yet in the nausea department. I felt faint in the shower, had to take a time out several times during my getting-ready regimen (note to self: flipping head upside-down to blow dry whilst nauseated is not a good strategy), and barely kept it together at work by keeping a constant stream of small bits of food doing down the hatch. I got a little panicky: if this is what the nausea feels like at 6w5d, how barfalicious am I going to be at 8w?

Yesterday, I felt better. So of course I panicked. WHAT DOES THIS MEAN? The throbbing boobs and extreme fatigue weren't enough -- why didn't I want to hurl?!?

Well, ask and you shall receive. I spent two hours in the middle of the night last night taking shallow breaths and wandering desolately back and forth between the bed and the toilet. No barfing, but still. Yuck. And today I am struggling -- physically with the nausea, and psychologically with the fact that my office is under construction and only available ladies room is on another floor on the opposite end of the building. There's no way I'm making it if Senor Barfy decides to come out and play.

Tomorrow, I will undoubtedly be back to obsess over the fact that I feel fine. You really can't win on this blog!

Oh, and a note on poop: thanks to everyone for their suggestions and commiseration. I seem to be winning the battle at the moment with a combination of Jamba Juice smoothies with a Flax n' Fiber boost (I love the way the guy behind the counter looks at me when I order this EVERY MORNING -- he probably wishes I would exit the store butt first), lots of fresh fruit and water, and a variety of fiber bars and cereals.

So, one out of four major symptoms under control. If I were a baseball player with that kind of average, I'd get sent down to Triple-A, but at this point I'll take it.

Party pooper

I bet you think this post is going to be about being tired and going to bed early. But no -- it's going to be about poop. I'm going Dooce on y'all. You've been warned.

I'm not going to go into any actual physical detail, but let's just say that since my weekly PIO shot last Wednesday, I've been fighting the Battle of the Bowel. I'd somehow made it 33 years without having any issues in this department, so I was at a loss. I complained to my acupuncturist, and he laughed and told me I was "full of sh**." Hilarious, buddy.

The internets yielded all sorts of helpful suggestions, so in case there's anyone out there having similar issues, here's what worked for me:

• Metamucil -- easily the worlds foulest ingestible substance. Who thought a drink could be chewy?


• High-fiber meal replacement bars -- anything with more than 5g fiber -- Odwalla Berries GoMega is one example. I also found a "Flavor & Fiber" bar at Trader Joe's with 12g of fiber -- I bought it but I'm a little afraid to eat it. Anyone remember Colon Blow?


• Kiwifruit -- one of the corners of the web told me that kiwis were good for this stuff. At the very least, they're really tasty.


• Lots and lots of water

Anyone else out there fighting the good fight and succeeding? Let us know what's worked for you -- don't be a party pooper!