yeah, but *I* think it's funny

So as it turns out, when you are an infant, people (like your mom) can dress you up in funny outfits and you cannot do a damned thing about it. Except make funny faces and look sort of put out, which is what Mr B resorted to when I put his sunglasses on.

It was bad enough that I insisted on the concert t-shirt that his daddy bought, the one that doesn't have snaps or anything at the neckline. But the glasses? The indignities never end. In fact, I suspect that they are only beginning.

Everything else is going really well. There have been a couple of days where Mr B would not, could not sleep for more than 20 minutes at time between 6am and 8pm, but other than that? It's been really awesome. (But let me not minimize that -- 3 days in a row of no real napping is very stressful -- it means that there is no time to do ANYTHING at all for the entire day. Like eat, or shower, or rest. But we are back in nap land, at least for today, and I am grateful for it.)

And feeding him has reached a decent equilibrium -- I pump and feed him from a bottle and supplement with the anti-reflux formula to help him feel better -- otherwise he has bad reflux 30-60 minues after he eats. It breaks my heart -- he has these little wet hiccups and each one makes him cry this sad, pathetic little cry that says "that hurts, mommy. Please make it stop." And there is nothing to be done except hold him. So preventing it is the key to happiness for both of us.

Do I like pumping? Nope. Do my boobs hurt? Yep. And I get clogged ducts and had a blister thing that I had to tend to with a sterilized needle, but it is OK. Although the needle surgery was really really not fun. Seriously -- needle + nipple? Not awesome. More like something from a bad horror movie. And while I would like to say "never again" I'll do it if necessary, as it did the trick.

But otherwise all is good -- we went on a couple of car rides (which are a big deal, since we don't have a car) and he did great, and he is on a pretty decent night time sleep schedule -- he goes to sleep around 8pm then wakes at 2 and again at 5 and at 8. And the 2pm wakeup is usually only for about 20 minutes or as long as it takes him to eat 3-4 oz and then he falls right back to sleep. It's really not so bad, and since he is bottle fed, my husband usually takes one of the feeds so I can sleep a bit more. Although I still find that I rock myself to sleep more quickly than I rock B into slumber. Probably not exactly the best plan, but the motion is so relaxing!

I ended up sleeping in B's room last night so that my husband could get some sleep before a big meeting, and was lying there listening to him breathe. And all I could think was that I am so grateful and so lucky and so in love. It is wonderful. And amazing and I am happy.

Status update

Warning -- this is a whine-fest. But if you want my view on some of the physical aspects of being pregnant, here it is.


I've been feeling like shit, recently, in at least 2 different ways, but I've been holding back from sharing because, well, it's just seems not terribly gracious. But now? I'm tired, and cranky and need to offload.


I am more excited than I can possibly tell you that I am pregnant. Every day I wake up, rub my belly, and feel grateful to all the powers that be for allowing me to make it to 17.5 weeks. But being pregnant is HARD work.


Way one I have felt bad:
Just when I was rejoicing about how the nausea went away and the exhaustion had lifted, and how I really wanted to eat again for the first time in about 12 weeks, I ran headlong into my new worst enemy: reflux. It turns out that the really spicy food that I am craving (like a burrito with spicy barbecued beef) makes my chest and throat burn like, well, like a whole lot of acid is eating its way through tissue it shouldn't be touching. And worse still? It's not just the spicy food. It's tomatoes. And cereal with milk. And green salad with oil and vinegar. And a peanut and butter and jelly sandwich on whole grain bread. All of these foods have caused tremendous gastric distress and forced me to look longingly at food and then turn away, which is a problem because I am starving.


The solution? Eat virtually nothing I like. The other solution: sleep sitting up. It's bad enough that I am no longer allowed to sleep on my back, which blows as well, but to sleep propped up? I'm basically awake for at least an hour every night just sitting there like a fool, feeling really annoyed that it's 3am, I am sitting up in bed with my chest still burning despite the aforementioned sitting and not asleep. So I am tired, too. Oh yeah, and my shoulders and back hurt from sleeping like that.


Way two: I have a cold. And pretty much all I can take for it is liquids and more liquids and tylenol. Of course, citrus juice would be good, but that makes the reflux kick into overdrive. (I tried it. Not fun.) So I am coughing and coughing and yesterday I coughed so hard that I vomited. It was epically horrible and I think I am scarred for life. Word from the wise: next time you are pregnant and coughing hard and have to pee insanely badly all at the same time, try to hold the pee and face the toilet. Because I made the other decision and it was a disaster. Oh, and I was at work. Which made it horrible and embarrassing, because some poor soul was two stalls down. I took today off because (a) I was afraid of coughing/ puking again in public and (b) I'm hoping that a day off will actually help me kick this, and (c) I think the other person in the bathroom deserves a reprieve from the horror show of yesterday.


And since I can't for sure feel le bebe yet (and of course am starting to get worried about that), and have no other indications aside from belly growth that I am still pregnant, I've convinced that my belly is smaller, which means, to my mucus-addled brain, that the bebe is not growing and doom has finally caught up with me.


In short, I'm sick, chock full of acid, and a nutcase. Fabtastic combination.


On the plus side, Glee is on tonight, I got to sleep until 10 (with a "what the fuck are you doing sitting up" break between 4.30 and 5.30am), and I am starting to feel better. Oh, and I'm 17 weeks and 5 days pregnant, which blows my mind and means that my fancy dancy level II ultrasound is in just. one. week.

The great reveal, and random thoughts

I told my direct boss today.
He was awesome about it, although he did say those dreaded words "Oh I *knew* it!" which leads me to believe that I am just looking F-A-T fat. (Actually, he said he knew because the day that my nausea hit we were at an all day meeting at his house, and since I both (a) asked for hard candies and (b) threw up in his bathroom, his wife kind of guessed. And yeah, I'm mortified that someone actually heard me puking my insides out, but at least I was very tidy about it.)

Which leads me to another point: I'm very ready for the nausea to take its leave. I believe that I'm ready to eat a meal and then not feel terribly bloated and nauseous for the following three hours. It was super reassuring back at weeks six and seven, but now? Now I just feel like poo and would like to be back to my own self again.

I'd also like, if the pregnancy gods are listening, to sleep more at night. I get that I have to wake up to pee. That's fine. 4am-4.03am seems like enough time for that. But at 5.44am I'm not sure I still need to be wide awake listening to my husband sleep peacefully. And, while I know this is wrong and makes me a bad wife, when I'm awake and he's asleep, I want to wake his sleeping ass up. It makes me angry that he is sleeping and I can't. I know it's bad, but it's true.

Lastly, I'm just waiting to actually look pregnant, not overweight. I know that I was probably 6-10lbs over my ideal weight when I got pregnant, and I would like to thank IVF for that (all those drugs and the times where exercise was verboten really did a number on my girlish figure), but right now, even when I look at myself hard, all I see is that stupid extra weight around my stomach instead of a pregnancy bump. I'm having a weirdly hard time with this, and really am feeling icky and fat and kind of ashamed of how I look instead of all glowy and pregnant. Maybe its just too early (13+ weeks) to look like much at all, and maybe in a few weeks when things progress further this will change, but I'm not at all in love with my pregnant shape right now, and that makes me kind of sad. The sad, of course, then makes me feel guilty that, after all of this time waiting to get pregnant, I'm not enjoying it as much as I should.

To summarize: on the one hand, very very excited to be pregnant at 40 with what appears to be (for n0w, at least) a healthy child. On the other hand, some of the stuff that comes with first trimester (weird body changes, nausea, insomnia) are not that great, and while I'd rather have them than not be pregnant, I'd also rather be pregnant without them.