What Daniel Has Taught Me About Pregnancy

I have wanted to keep this blog more up-to-date, but I am wondering how many times I can tell you I am fiercely hungry, not feeling very zen about nausea*, and going to bed early and waking up late? I mean really: who wants to hear that over and over again? I know I'm bored with it.

Saturday morning, I was in the early stages of waking when I was forming this brilliant metaphor about how the Maw might actually be a vampire. It was so apt! But then I woke up, tried to write it, and of course it made no sense at all. So the Maw is just among the unborn, and not the undead.

I will tell you a funny story though. Last night (the middle of it, of course), when I was shoveling raisin bran down my gullet, I started thinking about my nephew Daniel. He loooooves Wii, especially Mario Kart, much as I looooove food and especially the eating of it.

When I was visiting with Daniel and my sister in December, Daniel was desperately trying to unlock a special character in Mario Kart called Dry Bowser. He became so obsessed with it that at one point, he was simultaneously seat-bouncing on the ottoman, sobbing, and screaming "It's not fun! It's not fun! It's not fun, Mom!!!" Naturally, my sister and I being very compassionate people thought the best thing to do in this instance was to record this insane episode on video, while laughing uncontrollably. It remains today my very favorite video on youtube (sorry world; it's privately held). But even so, I kind of get where Daniel was coming from; it's how I've started to feel about eating.

I do it so often and have to choke down so much that I kind of want to scream/sob "It's not fun! It's not fun, Mom!" Because it isn't. :( I dread when I'll be hungry again because I know it will be very soon and I won't have the energy to prepare anything, but also am tired of always going to restaurants. Of course, no one was MAKING Daniel play Mario Kart, but I know he'd understand anyway.

* I kind of want to do harm to some women in the online forum I post in when they talk about how they "finally got to experience nausea this morning and it was glorious! I knew baby was healthy and doing well!" Oh shut UP. It is not awesome. I do not feel glorious about it. I look forward to not having it ever. again. Nausea is shrimply the worst. Bizards and your zen-ness!

The Maw of the Tiger

Sonnie told me that 2010 is not just the year of the tiger, but the year of the white tiger, a very auspicious once-every-60-years moment in time. I love Chinese astrology and researched further (courtesy of my BFF Google)that the white tiger is the same as the metal tiger, or the tiger associated with metal as its element. (Other options are water, wood, fire, and earth.) I am a metal monkey, myself, so even though monkeys and tigers are not typically BFFs, maybe the fact that we're both metallic will help us to bond over our shared love of shiny things.

Also, Tigers are the Eastern counterpart to the Western Aquarius and I love me some Aquarians (most notably Mr. MRT)!

Anyway, I'm kind of writing on a low tank here, having only been able to stomach a baked potato for dinner, so I'll stop this non-award-winning prose and let the internet speak for itself re: the tiger.

THE METAL TIGER 195O AND 2010

The Metal element gives the Tiger its sharpness in action and speed of thought. Tigers born in the Metal year like to stand out in a crowd. With an inspiring assertiveness and competitive demeanor, they determine their goals and then do anything necessary to achieve them. This good-looking character sometimes suffers from mood swings and temper tantrums. The Tiger can be known to jump to conclusions or to act too quickly without weighing the options or understanding the consequences. This is a flaw Tigers must learn to curb.

Feed Me Seymour!

Okay, I've mentioned the hunger alarm and being ravenous, but I am not sure I can stress enough what I have become: the Maw.



No, seriously: the Maw. I have decided to change the name of this blog for a short while to drive this point home.

The amount of eating I do exhausts me. This does not even include the amount of time I spend thinking about eating or trying to figure out what will appease (never offend!) the Maw.

I am 8 weeks today and you better believe I am counting down to 13 weeks, at which time it is alleged I may go back to some semblance of a non-nauseated, non-maw.

Right now, baby is just over 1/2" long and is using 25% of my blood! (But I am making lots of extra blood for this purpose. At the time of delivery, I will have about 4 extra pounds of blood!) My heart is working very hard to keep up with this extra supply, so that is why I have become such a non-hanger-outer and early bedtime haver.

And I know what you're thinking: this pregnancy business does not sound very palatable. I won't lie: I've been feeling a little low, like there's no light at the end of the tunnel. But know this: not too terribly long from now, I will be snuggling up with my beautiful, perfect baby that my body is making from scratch! What a miracle! That's what I'll keep in mind--that is, when I'm not thinking about my next meal.

Sincerely,
Ma of the Maw

Poll Results, Round 1

Well the results are in and it's a boy by a small margin. Thanks for telling me; now send us only blue stuff. Ha. Thanks also for not voting for Pat. :)

Okay, but seriously: you all have a 50% chance of being correct. I'll let you know in September.

New poll re: pants. How much longer can I wear regular ones?

Of Mice and Men...and Insurance

Here is the difference between good insurance and bad insurance.

Bad insurance= very expensive and no maternity coverage
Good insurance = moderate to low cost and 100% maternity coverage.

Good insurance starts for me and Matt on February 1 and I am very excited. I am going to get my teeth cleaned, my eyes checked, and I know not what else. But I am in a conundrum about maternity care. When both a midwife and a doctor would mean out-of-pocket expense, a midwife was an easy choice for me. Now that I know I will have 100% coverage with an OB, the waters are much muddier. This is a savings of about $3500.

The only thing is that with my OB, I am already being scheduled for a "pregnancy package" like I'm getting school pictures taken and being rolled out on the conveyor belt, but I am not sure I want everything in the goodie bag.

For one thing, I'm horribly torn about an ultrasound. I mean, I already know I'm pregnant (no doubts, whatsoever--just see my grocery bill)and I have been reading various articles about how the risk of ultrasound, while thought to be fairly innocuous with moderate exposure, is still not recommended for routine use by the AMA--and God knows those people like to order every test there is.

In my research, I came across several articles that talked about lab tests on pregnant mice who, after prolonged exposure, gave birth to brain-damaged micey babies because of the heat build-up in the tissues. The exposure was very long and the gestation for mice is much shorter than for humans, and yet...I remain unconvinced. Especially when I read on Slate that Tom Cruise purchased an ultrasound machine for home use to have a looksee anytime he wanted. I mean, if what he does doesn't sway you the other way, what will? The man is crazy as betsy bugs.

But two ultrasounds are part of my "val-u package" and when I told the receptionist I'd rather not schedule one just now, she acted very judge-y and accusatory. Finally, I was like "wait a minute! I'm not having this conversation with YOU. I think I'll speak to the doctor, plz." But I was nicer than that, obviously.

I know if I make it plain I do not want the ultrasound, they're not going to strap me to the table anyway, but I am feeling disappointed that already someone at the practice was questioning my right to or even my desire for informed consent. I didn't even say I never wanted one or it was out of the realm of possibility; I just said I didn't want to schedule one at this time. Geesh! Is a non-judgey environment worth $3500? Maybe so. Insurance, why do you torment me with your options after I've gone without so long?!

"Who dares to paint my royal roses red?! Was it YOU?!"
"Not me, the two!"

OMG! I POAS and it's a BFP! Better tell my DH!

The internet is a confounding place if you are, like I am, disposed to speak the Queen's English, even when getting QWERTY with it.

I recently joined the Mothering.com forum, home of many dirty hippies like myself, to get the scoop on pregnancy and to enjoy fellowship of some other ladies who have a similar due date to me.

While I am learning a lot from these other ladies, I am also getting an education in acronyms, the use for which there is really NONE. Were you able to decode the title of this blog, for example? Two weeks ago, I certainly couldn't, but I am really coming along in the world of totally useless acronyms. (Answer: Oh my gosh! I peed on a stick and it's a big fat positive! [i.e. I took a pregnancy test and it was positive for pregnancy.] I better tell my dear husband.)

But husbands are not the only things that can be dear in this crazy world. Dear son, dear daughter, dear fiance, dear partner...so far I have not seen anyone use JH for like jerk husband or whatever. But someone's bound to have one!

Test your knowledge and skills! Visit the mothering.com post of frequently used abbreviations (frequent? really?) and get amazed.

Okay, well, TTYL. I need to go prepare a meal of TF. WTF? LOL!

Google Spotlight: Morning Sickness and Pregnancy Week 7

Some things you might not know (but which are interesting) if you've never been pregnant, or if you have been pregnant, but are not a friend of the internet.

• Morning sickness may have gotten its name because it is most commonly experienced during the first trimester, which is said to be "the morning" of your pregnancy (2nd= afternoon, 3rd= evening). Some women experience it most severely in the morning because it is exacerbated by hunger. And a night without food is a whole dang long time if you're pregnant, IMO.
  
  
• Progesterone, which is thought to cause nausea in pregnancy, is what is holding my baby (now the size of a large blueberry!) into the uterine lining until I have a full-fledged placenta. Nausea should ease up in the 12th week when it's peanut butter jelly time with the placenta. Right now, my blueberry baby is feeding on the yolk of my egg! Chicken eggs are much bigger than human eggs because the yolk is all the baby chick will ever have to eat, whereas in a few weeks, as I mentioned, it will be peanut butter jelly time for Baby MRT. I think Baby MRT will be as glad of this as I am because his/her cell divisions have shown him/her to be a hunger beast.
  
  
• Baby MRT is growing ribs this week! No kidding! Wow!
  

The Hunger Alarm

When I was getting married, my friend Marcella hosted a "round-the-clock" wedding shower for me, wherein each guest is assigned an hour of the day and their gift can be in the spirit of that time of day. My mom got 7 a.m. and gave me a really nice nightgown and lavendar spa mitts and slippers and her card read "For my darling daughter, who I have rarely seen at 7 a.m." And that's God's honest truth. I don't really like to get up early, despite knowing its good for me (or some b.s. like that). These days though, I find I am more and more of a morning person thanks to my early bedtime (getting earlier every night!) and my built-in hunger alarm.

What's that? Why it's my very growly, very cranky stomach that protests violently when it's not fed at regular intervals. And it's not like "Oh, I'm slightly hungry, but I'll just fall back asleep and get to it later." No, it's more like "GET UP NOW OR DEATH IS IMMINENT!" Molly enjoys this because I let her out early and she can lie in wait for the squirrels to come out in the morning. MRT likes this because I bring him a hot cup of coffee to bed, even though I can't drink it myself. (My food aversions including coffee, most sweets, cheese, Mexican food, etc. break my heart! I don't know who I am anymore!)I do not really like this, but a banana, a slice of peanut butter toast, and a glass of milk later, I have finally silenced my hunger alarm. Or at least hit snooze for an hour or so when I can eat a granola bar or yes, sometimes 5-10 handfuls of nuts.

The only thing I REALLY dislike is I never know what time it's set for, though it's always well before 7. It really smarts when it's set for 4:30 a.m. But it's now 11:15 a.m. and the first lunch alarm is going off, so I better see what I can throw down my gullet to prevent mutiny.

Geez, I just re-read this and it is a real snoozer. Sorry y'all. I am desperately out of practice on the blog front and it may take some time for that old Job Rants-esque hilarity to emerge. Only problem is I am not yet outraged. But if nausea persists into absurd months, don't worry: I'll be plenty outraged to say words against Nancy.

P.S. How come everyone thinks my baby is a boy? I am just sure it's a girl! Well, as sure as you can be using only smelly hippy intuition.

Midwifery = Indigent Care?

As some of you know, MRT and I have decided that we would really like to use a midwife to deliver our baby, if all systems are normal and go, as we fully expect they will be. (Although, Chay is convinced Baby MRT is twins. I think this is mostly because she's seen me eating lately.)

Unfortunately, Nacogdoches is not exactly on the cutting edge of either modern new agey hippies who prefer midwifery (like me) or even on the old times edge of people who preferred midwifery because they had not yet been convinced that birthing is terrifying and dangerous and would rather do it at home as well as not. So as I was searching my options for midwives, I learned that there are about 5 in town, all located at the UTMB clinic. Score! I made an appointment.

That appointment was yesterday at 9 a.m. Matt and I arrived at about 8:40 a.m. to find the huddles masses already filling every chair in the large waiting room, and the hallway, too. It turns out that in Nacogdoches, midwifery, the services for which are typically less expensive than that of an OB/GYN, is indigent care. My 9 a.m. appointment was really more of a suggestion than anything firm and the cost I would have to pay to attend this healthcare cattle call was going to be exorbitant, since I did not qualify for free services. What?! Soon I was acutely aware of the incessant drone of sneezing, coughing, and general illness around me and I got the heck out of dodge.

After I canceled my appointment, I consoled myself with a very large breakfast from McDonald's (no judging necessary). Yes, Baby MRT and I are already alike in that we can take even very disappointing news much better after hash browns and hot cakes. But the search for who will help bring MRT 3 (or is it 4 if you count Molly? she's more of a straight MT gal, though) into this world continues...

Cheese, Let's Not Forget Each Other

Well what do you think? It's another pregnancy blog. (World yawns.) I'm sorry to tell you, but I have become a very exciting person and this needs documenting.

Consider:

• I am typically fast asleep by 9 p.m.
  
• Last week I loved tuna sandwiches and the site of them now, makes me involunatarily convulse.
  
• Cheese, I don't know what happened with us but let's keep an open mind, okay?
  
• My pants are very tight.

From what I hear, things are REALLY HAPPENING chez MRT-body at the cellular level, but the view from where I'm sitting is fairly uneventful.

I am now 7 weeks pregnant with our baby and because it's been such a gas so far (you have no idea how much I'm not kidding), I couldn't bear to leave y'all out of the rest of the tedious details. So enjoy aaaaand we're off!

Kind regards,
MRT con queso