Monday, July 23, 2007
acid reflux
No epic posts detailing my emotional turmoil. I just want everyone to know I have acid reflux. And I have it bad. Even if I don't eat much, I'm burping up mouthfulls of stomach acid after every little thing I eat. Otherwise, today has been good. The shower my mom has put together is this coming weekend. It will be great to see everyone. Updates to follow.
Thursday, July 19, 2007
I fought the mattress and the mattress won
Sleeping. I heard it would be difficult. I heard I'd get up and pee in the middle of the night. But I had rounded the corner of 7, then 7.5 months....and it still wasn't bad. But all of a sudden, in the last week or so, I have a nightly fight with the bed.
It starts innocently enough. Maybe I fall asleep propped up on our comforter and a squishy pillow or two while I watch the Daily Show. That becomes unsuitable after a while, so I go to my favored side, the right. Snuggled up to the body pillow, shoulder purposefully wedged between head support layer #1 (folded up comforter) and head support layer #2 (pillow). Doing this I've found keeps pressure off my shoulder while cushioning it. But laying on the right side makes me sore after an hour or so. I then have to move the whole operation to the left side--the dreaded side. The side that's been making me sore for months for no good reason. Here's how that move goes:
Step One: Grasp body pillow. Fling to left side. If Nic is sleeping too close, wedge body pillow in between myself and him.
Step Two: Fling back over to right side. Grab squishy pillows.
Step Three: Sit up halfway. Fluff up squishy pillows near my head. Determine if I'll need one or two.
Step Four: Snuggle in and down by making sure shoulder is under pillow but over folded up comforter.
Step Five: Try to visualize body allignment. Try to stagger hips and shoulders so I am not laying directly on my side. This involves laying slightly on my back or laying slightly on my stomach. The latter less possible if I am unable to throw my arms out in front of me without punching my husband in the face.
All of this while not moving too quickly to get my heart going as I do want to get to sleep in my new position. This dance happens once an hour/hour and a half. From left to right. Then right to left. Until about 2 or 3am. At this point, the movement where I roll over on my back from one side to the other also rolls my heavy uterus and baby combo over my now full bladder. I think if I could just stay on the one side all night I wouldn't have the peeing problems right now. But alas, when I switch positions in the night, my bladder is roughed up like a drunk in a barfight.
I sit up and climb over Nic, often contorting myself in various unnatural poses while praying Ollie isn't sleeping on the floor right next to the bed when I blindly plop my foot down. I waddle to the bathroom and waddle back and snuggle in again going through the stages outlined above.
And then the alarm goes off.....
It takes me awhile to wake up these days because it takes me awhile to physically sit up after laying down for 8-10 hours. This morning was especially difficult. After I finally got myself into a sitting position, I was blocked in. Nic sound asleep on the outside of the bed (our bed being against a wall and I've been sleeping on the wall side), and Ollie sleeping at his feet, facing out. At the foot of our bed is an Ikea bed table on casters that can roll up to us while we are sitting up in bed or can stay at the foot of our bed. But it can't roll far enough out for me to get out of bed on the foot end. I figured my best plan of attack was to get Ollie to move. So I said, "Ollie, move!" She turned around. Looked at me. Turned back around. Put her head on Nic's feet. Ignored me. This happened....about 15 more times. So I woke up Nic to get him to move and to get him to move his dog. I scooted out of bed on my butt, much like a little kid goes down stairs on their rear...or even like the way a dog in heat gets from one side of the room to another. I then waddled to the bathroom....and began my day.
It starts innocently enough. Maybe I fall asleep propped up on our comforter and a squishy pillow or two while I watch the Daily Show. That becomes unsuitable after a while, so I go to my favored side, the right. Snuggled up to the body pillow, shoulder purposefully wedged between head support layer #1 (folded up comforter) and head support layer #2 (pillow). Doing this I've found keeps pressure off my shoulder while cushioning it. But laying on the right side makes me sore after an hour or so. I then have to move the whole operation to the left side--the dreaded side. The side that's been making me sore for months for no good reason. Here's how that move goes:
Step One: Grasp body pillow. Fling to left side. If Nic is sleeping too close, wedge body pillow in between myself and him.
Step Two: Fling back over to right side. Grab squishy pillows.
Step Three: Sit up halfway. Fluff up squishy pillows near my head. Determine if I'll need one or two.
Step Four: Snuggle in and down by making sure shoulder is under pillow but over folded up comforter.
Step Five: Try to visualize body allignment. Try to stagger hips and shoulders so I am not laying directly on my side. This involves laying slightly on my back or laying slightly on my stomach. The latter less possible if I am unable to throw my arms out in front of me without punching my husband in the face.
All of this while not moving too quickly to get my heart going as I do want to get to sleep in my new position. This dance happens once an hour/hour and a half. From left to right. Then right to left. Until about 2 or 3am. At this point, the movement where I roll over on my back from one side to the other also rolls my heavy uterus and baby combo over my now full bladder. I think if I could just stay on the one side all night I wouldn't have the peeing problems right now. But alas, when I switch positions in the night, my bladder is roughed up like a drunk in a barfight.
I sit up and climb over Nic, often contorting myself in various unnatural poses while praying Ollie isn't sleeping on the floor right next to the bed when I blindly plop my foot down. I waddle to the bathroom and waddle back and snuggle in again going through the stages outlined above.
And then the alarm goes off.....
It takes me awhile to wake up these days because it takes me awhile to physically sit up after laying down for 8-10 hours. This morning was especially difficult. After I finally got myself into a sitting position, I was blocked in. Nic sound asleep on the outside of the bed (our bed being against a wall and I've been sleeping on the wall side), and Ollie sleeping at his feet, facing out. At the foot of our bed is an Ikea bed table on casters that can roll up to us while we are sitting up in bed or can stay at the foot of our bed. But it can't roll far enough out for me to get out of bed on the foot end. I figured my best plan of attack was to get Ollie to move. So I said, "Ollie, move!" She turned around. Looked at me. Turned back around. Put her head on Nic's feet. Ignored me. This happened....about 15 more times. So I woke up Nic to get him to move and to get him to move his dog. I scooted out of bed on my butt, much like a little kid goes down stairs on their rear...or even like the way a dog in heat gets from one side of the room to another. I then waddled to the bathroom....and began my day.
Monday, July 9, 2007
I think I have so much trouble remembering to update this blog for a number of reasons.
1. Content. I used to use journaling for release, which I fear tranlates to me being Miss Complainypants in the blog world. I'm trying to remember to write up hilarious stories and in-depth observations...but truth be told, when those things happen I don't picture how I'm going to describe them on my blog.
2. Other mommy (and daddy) bloggers: I've found some great sites out there. Two of my favorites are http://babyonbored.blogspot.com and www.nealpollack.com. I wonder, will I be as hilarious a parent as these two? God, I hope so.
3. Nic keeps up with his blog: www.nicoloonorato.com. Really, does our household need two rabid bloggers?
and the fourth and final reason is
4. I hate doing things that I feel like I HAVE to do.
But once I get started, I realize I have a lot to say. Like today. Settle in, we have a lot to go over!
Updates:
It's been a busy couple of weeks on Austin Street. First of all, Nic finished up his term of service with Public Allies. Seeings that I never made it to graduation in my AmeriCorps program, I was extra proud of him. He's working part-time at the news station and is able to start working on the baby's room this week. I'm starting to have visions of delivering early, I'm eager to get that project started and done. A few coats of paint, a much easier time laying down a bamboo floor, and we can set up furniture. A couple in our childbirth class is about to deliver anyday now, and they just moved into a new house last week. So I officially have no reason to freak out about the fact that work on the baby's room hasn't even begun.
I had a glorious 5 days away from work when my friends from Minneapolis came down for another shower. This one was just very close friends and family in the backyard+too much food+a keg of beer. It was a great time. I got to have a few lazy days of shopping, eating, movie watching, and beach going. I enjoyed every minute of my time off, as they were my last days away from work/days off without taking care of a baby. With this shower business, I'm learning quick that people with babies or who are around babies get you the practical things off your registry and those who could barely pick a baby out of a lineup get you the unnecessary but cute items. Both are needed, and I'm getting to the point where I can predict what kind of gift I will get from any given person. I can size you up in 30 seconds and determine if you're more the crib sheets-type or the irreverant onesies-type.
Good god it's hot. This time of year is usually my favorite! The hotter and more humid the better. Not so much this year. Not only is it hard to be so warm, but the shortness of breath comes much quicker in the humid weather. Yesterday it was about 96 degrees. Thankfully, we have an air conditioning unit for the bedroom. But even with that, I woke up from a nap sweating. The few times I was out of the air, I wanted to cry. But I didn't lose the funny! Nic and I left the house in the morning to get brunch--as Sunday brunch is my favorite thing to do in the weekend and even weather that made me wheeze would not keep me away. We step outside the house and it's heavy and hot at 10:30. I say, "Ohhhhhhh....it's so hooooooooot already!" Nic says, "You know, it's not actually that bad yet." I pause. I say, "Really, so how pregnant are you again?" He smiles. He gets it. That made me laugh for the rest of the day--which by the way was spent in air conditioning.
Soapbox time
I am sooooooo tired of my weight (too much? not enough?) being something you, general public, have the right to make judgements on. Before I was pregnant, you would not have thought about admonishing me for not eating enough, or pointing out that I was eating too much....but when you become pregnant, you obviously loose the right for you to decide how public your body becomes. I know this was the topic of an earlier post....maybe one of my first posts. I was bothered that people I was not very close to (co-workers, acquaintences, etc) felt it was appropriate to ask me if my boobs were sore or if I had bad gas. I would not have been asked these things had I not been pregnant. The latest addition is everyone's opinion about my weight. Hold on, not everyone. Because my doctor thinks everything is just fine. Therefore, I think everything is just fine.
So a bit of background....I don't think any female no matter how enlightened, is immune from body image issues. You can minimize them. You can use reason. You can shun images from popular culture and embrace more realistic representations of what women look like. But that don't mean you can ever get away from worrying about how imperfect your body is. Never mind I'm probably one of the healthiest people I know--blood pressure, low incidence of heritable disease in the family, amazing muscle tone, has always done well in yoga and weightlifting classes (strong and flexible), not to mention moderately decent looking. But man, issues of weight are so delicate. This was something I was particularly worried about at the onset of pregnancy. Namely, could my self-esteem rationalize a significant weight gain even if it were due to pregnancy? It has come to pass that I have actually put on very little weight, comparitively. Which is a surprise. Maybe it's because I started out in pretty good shape. Maybe it's because you put on less weight when you start out with more on your frame. Maybe it's because pregnancy has not changed my eating habits too radically, and the idea of gorging on a whole pint of ice cream and an order of french fries and other junk in one sitting makes me ill. Regardless, I have a protruding belly and that's about it. I've had a number of people tell me in the last few weeks how my face looks thinner, and I'm wearing more of my "regular" clothes than I thought I would. I'm told often that I don't look like I'm 7 and a half months pregnant. These things bring up a lot of internal conflict. Never being someone who got skinny comments thrown at her, part of me relishes the fact that I'm defying the odds. But man, then I get really upset and start to worry that I should be eating a lot more and what if the baby isn't perfect because my appetite dictates that I can only have a bowl of cereal or a small salad before I'm full for the next 5 hours. What am I doing wrong?
This is a good time for me to interject that I am not dieting. My appetite has been very normal througout and has gotten smaller of late--partly because my stomach is getting all squished internally and it takes less for my brain to get the signal that I'm full and partly because it's hotter than balls outside and who wants to eat heavy in this weather? I've been very mindful to get the upwards of 75 grams of protein and other dietary considerations I've learned about in my Bradley Method classes. I choose leafy greens when possible. I eat handfulls of fresh fruit everyday....and lots of ice cream! I actually haven't had a diet coke (more of a caffeine crutch than anything) in I don't know how long. I don't feel like I should have to spell this out or defend myself, but I'm starting to get really insensitive comments. A family member...who um, shall remain nameless, asked if I was getting enough to eat and if I was dieting. Since I will go for sarcasm when need be I explained to her that the Slim Fast shakes were really convenient to bring to work. A coworker came up to me this morning and asked, "How are you feeling? Are you eating enough?" Flat out. Just like that. I smiled and politely said, "Yes." She said, "Are you sure?" I said yes again and turned my head back to my computer, signaling that this was a dead topic. Unreal. And then, on the complete flipside of this issue.....one of the rollergirls called me fat last week. That was rad. I may not be gaining much for a pregnant lady, but I'm still an insecure girl with body image issues gaining weight feeling like I'm as big of a house. When she said those words I could immediately taste the 1.5 mozzerella sticks I had eaten 5 hours earlier and lost my taste for anything but water for the rest of the night (it was at Summerfest).
I suppose by now I sound completely neurotic. But it's just a little sampling of how complex these body image issues can be, especially going through pregnancy. If I eat too much, people will talk about how fat I am and I can't handle that. If I eat too little, people will talk about how I shouldn't be dieting while pregnant inferring that I'm irresponsible which I can't handle. At the end of the day, I know that I feel good and my midwife is pleased with my progress with everything so far and that's all that should matter.
The real kicker is that I'm gonna be raising a daughter. Yikes. My hopes is that no matter what body type she has, she has the tools to deal with all of this better than her mother. But I know no matter how healthy we raise her with realistic expectations of her body and what it means to be a female, it's the images and pressure of the outside world that can really make or break self-esteem. And that really sucks.
1. Content. I used to use journaling for release, which I fear tranlates to me being Miss Complainypants in the blog world. I'm trying to remember to write up hilarious stories and in-depth observations...but truth be told, when those things happen I don't picture how I'm going to describe them on my blog.
2. Other mommy (and daddy) bloggers: I've found some great sites out there. Two of my favorites are http://babyonbored.blogspot.com and www.nealpollack.com. I wonder, will I be as hilarious a parent as these two? God, I hope so.
3. Nic keeps up with his blog: www.nicoloonorato.com. Really, does our household need two rabid bloggers?
and the fourth and final reason is
4. I hate doing things that I feel like I HAVE to do.
But once I get started, I realize I have a lot to say. Like today. Settle in, we have a lot to go over!
Updates:
It's been a busy couple of weeks on Austin Street. First of all, Nic finished up his term of service with Public Allies. Seeings that I never made it to graduation in my AmeriCorps program, I was extra proud of him. He's working part-time at the news station and is able to start working on the baby's room this week. I'm starting to have visions of delivering early, I'm eager to get that project started and done. A few coats of paint, a much easier time laying down a bamboo floor, and we can set up furniture. A couple in our childbirth class is about to deliver anyday now, and they just moved into a new house last week. So I officially have no reason to freak out about the fact that work on the baby's room hasn't even begun.
I had a glorious 5 days away from work when my friends from Minneapolis came down for another shower. This one was just very close friends and family in the backyard+too much food+a keg of beer. It was a great time. I got to have a few lazy days of shopping, eating, movie watching, and beach going. I enjoyed every minute of my time off, as they were my last days away from work/days off without taking care of a baby. With this shower business, I'm learning quick that people with babies or who are around babies get you the practical things off your registry and those who could barely pick a baby out of a lineup get you the unnecessary but cute items. Both are needed, and I'm getting to the point where I can predict what kind of gift I will get from any given person. I can size you up in 30 seconds and determine if you're more the crib sheets-type or the irreverant onesies-type.
Good god it's hot. This time of year is usually my favorite! The hotter and more humid the better. Not so much this year. Not only is it hard to be so warm, but the shortness of breath comes much quicker in the humid weather. Yesterday it was about 96 degrees. Thankfully, we have an air conditioning unit for the bedroom. But even with that, I woke up from a nap sweating. The few times I was out of the air, I wanted to cry. But I didn't lose the funny! Nic and I left the house in the morning to get brunch--as Sunday brunch is my favorite thing to do in the weekend and even weather that made me wheeze would not keep me away. We step outside the house and it's heavy and hot at 10:30. I say, "Ohhhhhhh....it's so hooooooooot already!" Nic says, "You know, it's not actually that bad yet." I pause. I say, "Really, so how pregnant are you again?" He smiles. He gets it. That made me laugh for the rest of the day--which by the way was spent in air conditioning.
Soapbox time
I am sooooooo tired of my weight (too much? not enough?) being something you, general public, have the right to make judgements on. Before I was pregnant, you would not have thought about admonishing me for not eating enough, or pointing out that I was eating too much....but when you become pregnant, you obviously loose the right for you to decide how public your body becomes. I know this was the topic of an earlier post....maybe one of my first posts. I was bothered that people I was not very close to (co-workers, acquaintences, etc) felt it was appropriate to ask me if my boobs were sore or if I had bad gas. I would not have been asked these things had I not been pregnant. The latest addition is everyone's opinion about my weight. Hold on, not everyone. Because my doctor thinks everything is just fine. Therefore, I think everything is just fine.
So a bit of background....I don't think any female no matter how enlightened, is immune from body image issues. You can minimize them. You can use reason. You can shun images from popular culture and embrace more realistic representations of what women look like. But that don't mean you can ever get away from worrying about how imperfect your body is. Never mind I'm probably one of the healthiest people I know--blood pressure, low incidence of heritable disease in the family, amazing muscle tone, has always done well in yoga and weightlifting classes (strong and flexible), not to mention moderately decent looking. But man, issues of weight are so delicate. This was something I was particularly worried about at the onset of pregnancy. Namely, could my self-esteem rationalize a significant weight gain even if it were due to pregnancy? It has come to pass that I have actually put on very little weight, comparitively. Which is a surprise. Maybe it's because I started out in pretty good shape. Maybe it's because you put on less weight when you start out with more on your frame. Maybe it's because pregnancy has not changed my eating habits too radically, and the idea of gorging on a whole pint of ice cream and an order of french fries and other junk in one sitting makes me ill. Regardless, I have a protruding belly and that's about it. I've had a number of people tell me in the last few weeks how my face looks thinner, and I'm wearing more of my "regular" clothes than I thought I would. I'm told often that I don't look like I'm 7 and a half months pregnant. These things bring up a lot of internal conflict. Never being someone who got skinny comments thrown at her, part of me relishes the fact that I'm defying the odds. But man, then I get really upset and start to worry that I should be eating a lot more and what if the baby isn't perfect because my appetite dictates that I can only have a bowl of cereal or a small salad before I'm full for the next 5 hours. What am I doing wrong?
This is a good time for me to interject that I am not dieting. My appetite has been very normal througout and has gotten smaller of late--partly because my stomach is getting all squished internally and it takes less for my brain to get the signal that I'm full and partly because it's hotter than balls outside and who wants to eat heavy in this weather? I've been very mindful to get the upwards of 75 grams of protein and other dietary considerations I've learned about in my Bradley Method classes. I choose leafy greens when possible. I eat handfulls of fresh fruit everyday....and lots of ice cream! I actually haven't had a diet coke (more of a caffeine crutch than anything) in I don't know how long. I don't feel like I should have to spell this out or defend myself, but I'm starting to get really insensitive comments. A family member...who um, shall remain nameless, asked if I was getting enough to eat and if I was dieting. Since I will go for sarcasm when need be I explained to her that the Slim Fast shakes were really convenient to bring to work. A coworker came up to me this morning and asked, "How are you feeling? Are you eating enough?" Flat out. Just like that. I smiled and politely said, "Yes." She said, "Are you sure?" I said yes again and turned my head back to my computer, signaling that this was a dead topic. Unreal. And then, on the complete flipside of this issue.....one of the rollergirls called me fat last week. That was rad. I may not be gaining much for a pregnant lady, but I'm still an insecure girl with body image issues gaining weight feeling like I'm as big of a house. When she said those words I could immediately taste the 1.5 mozzerella sticks I had eaten 5 hours earlier and lost my taste for anything but water for the rest of the night (it was at Summerfest).
I suppose by now I sound completely neurotic. But it's just a little sampling of how complex these body image issues can be, especially going through pregnancy. If I eat too much, people will talk about how fat I am and I can't handle that. If I eat too little, people will talk about how I shouldn't be dieting while pregnant inferring that I'm irresponsible which I can't handle. At the end of the day, I know that I feel good and my midwife is pleased with my progress with everything so far and that's all that should matter.
The real kicker is that I'm gonna be raising a daughter. Yikes. My hopes is that no matter what body type she has, she has the tools to deal with all of this better than her mother. But I know no matter how healthy we raise her with realistic expectations of her body and what it means to be a female, it's the images and pressure of the outside world that can really make or break self-esteem. And that really sucks.
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