22 Weeks

The belly has fully popped. I douse it daily with a toxic-free oil to help it grow comfortably and as attractively as possible. The linea negra--the long dark line that is caused by hormones now extends from way down there to all the way up here, above my belly button. The top of my uterus is now also above my belly button. My midwife showed me how to find it with my fingers yesterday. Feeling internal organs with your hands...yet another strange life adventure in pregnancy! Some days I feel like I'm just wading in time, waiting for my belly button to protrude through my tops. It's like--this is what today is--waiting for that belly button. It's gonna be next level, that belly button pop.

Getting up is slower than before, I use my hands for a little leverage, and my balance is long gone. I'm even clumsier than I was before. I'm also at that stage where people just want to do things for me. Sometimes it feels silly, I do still have arm muscles. But other times, it's really kind and sweet. Especially when my husband insists on doing these things. I have to admit that I do like that. :)

The baby kicks constantly, so much so that I have figured out her schedule. She's very active from about 4 am to 5 am. If I can sleep through the 4 am barrier, I'm thrilled. Otherwise, if I wake up, I'm awake with her. She is also very active in the mornings at about 9 am. And then again in early afternoon and in the early evenings. She typically kicks at night when prompted by my eating a sweet dessert. She reacts to my meals, to loud sounds, to my touch. It's incredible. I can feel her on the outside at least once daily, though she has sneakily thwarted all of my attempts to have her Dad feel her kicking. As soon as his hand is on my belly, she gets quiet. The little bugger! At this point, we can only assume he has a soothing touch. I'd vouch for that.

Because I will now be delivering at CHOP, my husband and I had to say farewell to the midwife practice I was visiting monthly. We were sad to see them go, but we already agreed that next time maybe we'll get to stick with them through the whole pregnancy. I will now have hand-in-hand ultrasounds and prenatal care visits at CHOP. Luckily, I will still get to meet with midwives but it'll be on the same day that I meet with docs, sonographers, surgeons, maybe some radiologists, MRI technicians, nurse managers, you name 'em, I got 'em. It's a big team, but I like it that way. I feel like it's a group of folks who are invested in making sure Little comes out safely and that I don't go loco in the process. As long as someone asks how I'm emotionally feeling, they can poke and prod all they want. And, as it seems, that's the CHOP style--they looked us in the eyes a lot, answered all our questions, spent a lot of time with us, laughed with us, and said sorry and other understanding, supportive things that we needed too. I am pretty jaded by the health system and I feel many docs these days are content to type what you say into a computer, write a prescription, and walk out the door but our experience at CHOP was different. SO, if this is something that we have to do, thank goodness it's with good people who are patient and caring and extremely smart and skilled. We three are lucky. Little deserves it though, if you ask me. Heck, I'd throw a manicurist into the team if she indicated she wanted one.

My partnership with my husband somehow feels like it's at an even newer level. I mean, sitting down talking about your future child is already intense. But having conversations like the ones we had to have over the past couple weeks was altogether mind-altering. During that week of unknowns, the only person I wanted to spend all of my time with was my husband. He was so patient, and we were sharing this sadness and scariness together. He was the only person who could feel exactly what I felt, and how often do we find ourselves in troubling times where we can identify even one other person who can so purely empathize? But for us to do this together, and have challenging thoughts and worries, paired with such necessary hugs and grasps, it made it much easier to tolerate. None of it was anything that we wanted, but we are a team now in a way that I felt like I couldn't really imagine. You don't picture yourself looking at your husband's eyes, talking about potentially losing a child you've carried for five months that's not yet born. You know it's a possibility, a life event that exists out there that people sadly must endure, but you just can't picture yourself doing it, actually having that conversation, and actually looking into his eyes, feeling so hurt because he's hurting, and the heartache of your own pain simultaneously. It's very intense, I hope we never have it quite that way again, but it reinforced for me, this is the perfect person for me because I feel like I can wake up and move around and live because I have this. Geez, I know I'm getting deep here, but I feel like it's yet another piece of a new me that wasn't here before. And it's connected to Nico forever.

Despite all of this, I'm back on track in terms of my anticipation and excitement. I feel very confident and happy and even comfortable learning about our new road ahead. My dreams have changed--they're a bit more scary generally-speaking, and all of the cute furry animals that used to show up in my past dreams now look different. Some of them are missing an eye, or walking with only three legs. In my dreams, though, I am not scared by them, by how they look, nor do I feel worried for them. I just hug them and hold them and I want to care for them. It's a whole new dream world from only a few weeks ago, but I think it shows how my unconscious mind is slowly returning to where my renewed positive thinking currently resides. It's okay, I will be patient. I'll let my dreamworld catch up to where we are now, and the good news we have to work with.

Little is being patient too, I can tell. I swear she kicks when I have moments of worry, when I feel she has been quiet for too long, and it is simply the best medicine.

The Bump in the Road

This entry is a bit of an aberration because, well, things felt like they fell off track. I haven't posted in a while because I had a lot to emotionally process and go through. With the amazing support of my somehow perfect husband, our families, and our closest loved ones, we got through the story you're about to read. I say "got through" as if it's done. Really, it's not. But where we are now is so far from December 10. Hm, December 1o. I waited for that day for so long, I wrote about it the day before, and then it brought this. Here are excerpts from emails I wrote sharing what was going on with our families and a very small group of loved ones.

"Hi there everyone,

Well, a lot of news to share, some great and wonderful and a bit of difficult news to share.

Nico and I learned at our ultrasound this morning that we are having a GIRL! It was so wonderful to see her during the ultrasound. She was moving so much (no surprise since I've been feeling her move a lot over the past few days) and she even waved to us! She looks beautiful and it was so great to see her on the ultrasound. She is growing fine and she's just the right size for her age--12 ounces. Nico was predicting girl but I was so sure she was a boy! Smile.

During the ultrasound, the doctor noticed the development of two cysts in the baby's chest. This is the first time they were detected. Based on what he saw, there are two possible conditions that could exist: congenital cystic adenomatoid malformation (CCAM) or congenital diaphragmatic hernia (CDH). The doctor says treatment options are available for both conditions, and that both conditions are not very uncommon.

Based on what I've learned so far from the doctor and through a short internet search, the first condition CCAM refers to development of the cysts in the chest which are interfering with development of the lung. It seems that in most cases, the condition is monitored through pregnancy and then surgery is likely soon after the baby is born to remove the cysts. If the cysts grow too much during pregnancy, the doctor can drain them or do surgery during pregnancy. In a small percentage of babies with CCAM, there is one condition called hydrops (blood flow is interrupted and blood moves throughout the baby's body) that can develop that can cause great danger for the baby and can cause serious health problems for me so I know that they will have to do close monitoring through the rest of my pregnancy. The baby may have to be put on a breathing tube soon after she's born until surgery to help her breathe. About 90% of babies who have CCAM have no problems after the surgery. It is monitored while the baby is young, but the prognosis is very, very good.

Here is some more info about CCAM.

Type III congenital cystic adenomatoid malformation (CCAM)

http://fetus.ucsfmedicalcenter.org/ccam/learn_more.asp#a2

http://www.childrenshospital.org/az/Site2192/mainpageS2192P0.html


The more serious condition is called congenital diaphragmatic hernia. In this condition, the diaphragm does not develop properly and there's a hole. Then when the intestine is developing it moves into the chest and it interferes with development of the chest organs. There are surgical treatment options for this condition but the prognosis is not as good as about half of babies with this condition don't make it past a few months old. I feel very sad writing this but I'm going to work hard to be honest with myself about the possibilities. The doctor told us that this condition was more concerning, but that there are treatment options so no matter what we learn is true, we have options.

Here is more info about CDH:

Congenital Diaphragmatic Hernia

http://fetus.ucsfmedicalcenter.org/cdh/

http://emedicine.medscape.com/article/978118-overview

With all of that said, the doctor said he's not sure which condition the baby has because the baby was moving so much. :) One image from the ultrasound appears to suggest one condition while another image suggests the other condition. Other than the cysts though, the doctor said that they baby looks great. Her heart looks strong, her brain is fine, her limbs look great, everything else is in place. The doctor even said everything else looks "perfect."

At this point, I will have to go through a one day of fetal testing at the Children's Hospital of Philadelphia in the next 2 weeks. The doctor said it's a long and difficult day where they will do another ultrasound, MRI (which is fine for the baby), a fetal echo, and then Nico and I will have a team meeting with a surgeon, maternal fetal medicine expert, and case manager. After these tests, they will be able to learn which condition our little girl has and we can discuss options. I also will come in for another ultrasound in 4 weeks with my current prenatal medicine doctor.

The great news for us is that CHOP is one of the top hospitals in the country for fetal surgery and medicine. The doctor told us that he has great confidence in their skills, and the top surgeon in the world for fetal lung surgery works there so we already have a wonderful team right in town. It appears that my dreams of having a natural childbirth in a normal way may not come true, but I'm willing to deliver anywhere that's best for the baby. I know that the place I was already planning to deliver (Pennsylvania Hospital, which is affiliated with CHOP, both under the University of Pennsylvania) has a NICU unit so that place might still be an option. I will do whatever they tell us is best.

Regardless of what happens, Nico and I will make the best decisions for us and for the baby. Nico reminded me that anytime in life, you deal with hard things and often times you deal with it when you are older but sometimes you deal with it when you are young. I feel like our baby is mighty and I'm gonna stay super positive. She kicked me twice while I was writing this email so I think she's sending us a message. :)

We appreciate your love and support. This will be hard but we'll be okay. We are still so excited for our little baby girl!

Love you all so much, xoxo, amanda"

Regardless of my best attempt to think positively after this appointment, I have to admit, I fell into a bit of serious despair. It was shocking to have such utter joy at the pronouncement of the sex of our baby (a little girl! what a surprise!), and then just minutes later the deep descent into a sad, fearful unknown. I remember when the doctor said he saw something cystic--I hardly reacted because I thought he meant on me, an ovarian cyst or something of the like--and honestly, I didn't flinch. That didn't matter. It was when he replied "Oh no, not you, on the baby" in a don't worry kind of tone that I felt my chest heave, my heart crumble. I cried the rest of the day, stuck at work, and I cried every day the following week. I cried at least every hour. I felt so unlucky, so angry, so helpless, and so confused. At times, I felt like I gave up. I thought I failed, I created a poor home for our baby. Why us? So deeply sad, my body showed the effects: I keeled over in stomach aches at least once daily, and had to alter daily plans to accommodate how much of normal life I could tolerate.

I wished I could make my belly look small, so no one would ask about my pregnancy. I dreaded enduring faces of constant pity hanging on others' heads. I didn't want this pregnancy to have an asterisk. I abhorred the idea of adding more entries to this site, I wanted to just shut it down and let it go away. And I tried so hard to not be so overwhelmed with sadness. More and more is being learned about the detrimental impacts of the stress hormone cortisol on fetuses in the womb, and some of it points to lasting effects. I didn't want to hurt our baby, or make things worse, by feeling so upset.

I couldn't help but imagine another reality: I thought our baby might be born and then die, if she was ever born, and I wondered what scary choices awaited us. Our doctor told us that some parents, even at this unknown place, elected to terminate. He discouraged us from doing anything like that without more information, but even his words, every one of them, felt like single punches to my gut.

At moments, I wanted a do-over, a new start for our baby, to rewind conception day and still somehow have our same wonderful baby just start one day later, because somehow, that would make all the misfortune that may await disappear. My husband hugged me constantly, he reminded me that we still had hope, my parents told me that life brought challenges for people at all phases of their lives and infancy was no exception. I sobbed at the sight of girl baby clothes, I felt longing when I saw babies, I felt jealousy when I saw other pregnant women.

Besides the love and support of the wonderful people in our lives, I was comforted by the feeling that my baby felt mighty--I felt like she was strong, she moved so much, she surprised me, she was a special little enigma. I read stories and posts by women who elected to keep their pregnancies going even with very poor prognoses for survival. I was curious about how they felt and how they got through it--I mentioned it to my husband and let him know this was what I was thinking. If we got bad news about her ability to survive, and if she would be comfortable in the womb, I'd want to carry her to term to at least see her face for a second. Just to blow her a kiss and tell her: thank you, you are a wonderful child, you never let me down, I love you so much already.

I confessed to my husband over several days that I strongly wanted us to give her a name. In case something happened to her, I needed for her to have a name. On the way to our appointment of tests at CHOP, we chose a beautiful name for her.

"Hi all, here's a detailed update on the baby.

Nico and I are so thankful for all of your kind words of support as we dealt with a rough week of wondering what was wrong with our baby. It really meant so much to us to hear from you all.

As you know, a cystic mass was found in the baby’s chest at her 20 week ultrasound. At that time, the cyst was estimated to be either a case of CCAM or CDH, both of which are fairly serious conditions in which the cyst can interfere severely with lung and heart development and/or proper placement of lower abdomen organs like the stomach and intestines.

We were very, very excited to learn yesterday after a long day of tests at Children’s Hospital of Philadelphia (CHOP) that the baby has NEITHER of these conditions. Instead, her current diagnosis is congenital esophageal duplication cyst. Here’s all the info I’ve learned in the last 24 hours.

It’s a cyst that forms along the wall of the esophagus, and it’s called a duplication cyst because it follows the shape and build of the esophagus, almost like a copy of the esophagus. This condition is very rare—it only shows up in about 1 in 8,200 births. There is not a lot of research about it (most studies I have been able to find regarding detection and treatment are dated in the 2000s). It likely developed sometime during the 7^th week of pregnancy, and to date it is most common in white mothers who are older and having their first children.

Nico and I knew that even up until the end of the day yesterday that the doctors were having a difficult time figuring out what was going on. Before the doctor would meet with us, he said that he wanted the feedback of a newborn surgeon before talking to us. We were the last patients waiting, so we knew it was not a cut and dry case. In our meeting with the docs, they explained to us that it was difficult to diagnose the cyst because it is large. Usually, they appear smaller, and according to what I’ve read so far, they often are not even diagnosed until after the baby is born.

The prognosis for the baby is very, very good. Essentially, the baby will need surgery soon after she is born to remove the cyst. If the cyst is not removed it can cause respiratory problems and feeding problems, but cases show that once the cyst is removed, the symptoms are gone and there are really no long-term problems. The surgeon told us that she’ll likely have acid reflux, but that was the only long-term issue they mentioned.

It’s good for us that it was discovered so early. At this point, the plan is for me to report to ultrasound appointments every two weeks so they can monitor the size of the cyst. Half of these ultrasounds will be at CHOP and the other half will be at my normal maternal-fetal medicine doctor. Once I’m 34 weeks along, all of my prenatal care will be done at CHOP as they prepare for delivery.

Right now, the cyst is near the baby’s back so it is not interfering with development of her lungs and heart—which is GREAT news. They did a fetal echocardiogram yesterday and they said that her heart looks great. The monitoring will keep an eye out to make sure it’s size does not grow so large that it interferes with lungs and heart and to make sure that it doesn’t break into the wall of the esophagus. If it grows too large, they will have to drain the cyst before the baby’s born.

Another complication that they will be looking out for is called polyhydramnios, which happens when the baby can’t swallow enough amniotic fluid and there’s a buildup of fluid in the placenta. If the cyst interferes with the baby’s ability to swallow fluid, this condition can occur. I can go into preterm labor if this happens. They will be monitoring the amount of fluid in the placenta, and they can relieve some fluid if needed.

Because sometimes the cyst can cause early problems with breathing, etc, they want her to be delivered at CHOP. They built a brand new maternity ward there 2 years ago so that moms and dads could stay near their newborns who need advanced medical care instead of recovering at another hospital across town. This way, I’ll be able to see her while I am recovering in the hospital after she is delivered. AND they have a lactation unit so they will help me be able to feed her breastmilk very early on. Being at separate hospitals would make that almost impossible.

We don’t know anything yet about what precautions they’ll need to take during delivery, but they know that my earlier hopes were to have a natural childbirth. I’m sure they ‘ll have to do a fair amount of medical monitoring but CHOP has its own midwives and they made it sound like I may still be able to keep some elements of what I had hoped for as part of my delivery experience. Of course, if they tell me they want to do an emergency c-section, then I’m all in. I want them to do WHATEVER they need to do to keep the baby safe and healthy.

The delivery unit at CHOP looks really nice. And Nico will be able to stay overnight with me while I’m there, which is great. Each delivering mom has her own family room. Nico and I had a really great experience with the doctors and staff there. They were very attentive and helpful and emotionally present during a difficult day for us. They remembered to say things to keep our spirits up while we were in the tests and they understood when I just needed to cry. I think overall this will be a really great birth experience and we’re relieved to have such skilled doctors so close to home.

It’ll be hard to see the baby go into surgery so young, but there are only a few places in the country where folks could feel really confident about newborn surgery and CHOP is at the top of the list so we are in good hands. I already know from yesterday that the baby does NOT like MRIs (she was kicking up a crazy storm when I was in the machine) but the MRI area yesterday had at least two babies there so I know CHOP folks are skilled at helping newborns through it.

One of the gifts I took from yesterday, besides our great, relieving news, is that we got to spend a lot of time with the baby. We watched her on ultrasound for hours, and we got to see her on 3D ultrasound and bring home cute 3D pictures of her face and hands and little body. She is already a beauty, and we cannot wait to hold her.

We’ll be sure to keep you posted as things progress. We will probably have some tough moments ahead, but it’s what we can handle. Thanks so much Debby for reminding me of that—we are not given more than we can handle. Even though there are some concerns for her, this is so much different than the scary things that we imagined. We can handle what comes next.

Hearing from you all made both of us feel better along the way and your emails and well wishes were really helpful. You kept positive thoughts in our minds, I really needed that!

Mom and Dad, after we talked on vp on Sunday morning I felt like I could get through the day so much better. That’s what made me feel okay about posting on FB that we knew she was a girl. Before that, I was dreading anyone asking me about the pregnancy.

Much love to all and thanks so much. Hugs!

Xoxo, amanda"

The day was full of both laughs and deep cries. I cried through the fetal echocardiogram. Something about the dark room and the start of the long day just overwhelmed me. During the second test, the long ultrasound, we joked. We shared our prospective baby name, we talked about her like things were going to be okay. And during the MRI (oh boy, Little did NOT like that one, she kicked up a storm at those scary sounds), I felt like I was in a surreal place. It was hard to see so many sick children, but the way the staff treated them and us was reassuring. And we saw two infants while we were there, in hospital beds, being doted on by their parents and nurses, and I felt like a piece of our future became clear. That those next steps were going to happen because she was going to make it.

At the end of the day, we were the last patients in the waiting room. She really was a little special enigma, and it took a whole team of folks to figure out what her little body created. The docs honestly looked baffled all day. It wasn't until we walked into the final meeting of the day that they spoke with greater confidence.

I hugged a big box of tissues, but I didn't need a single one. Everything they were telling us was infinitely better than what I had imagined. Yes, she would need special monitoring and extra care and surgery in her first days, but she was going to be with us. We'd get to hold her. And I wouldn't steal all of her lifetime in my womb. The world would be open to her.

We even cracked jokes in the early evening meeting. When the doc told us he was impressed by the size of her cyst, I said "I'm not surprised that she's already impressing you." I couldn't believe I was wearing a coy smile, our David Bowie looking doctor sneakily smiled back. It was a moment of transformation.

And so, now, we have a new road. There was a bump, well, let's be honest, a detour. We're on a whole new road, with a new hospital, new prenatal care providers (I am switching all of my records this month to commence all of my care at CHOP), a new birth story, but lucky, lucky, lucky us, our same little baby girl. Little, we're with you. I hope that when you read this, you won't feel bad or sad, but just loved. And special.

20 Weeks - Halfway

On Saturday, I will officially be halfway through my pregnancy. Wow, time flies when you're having fun! (Readers beware, I'm in a silly happy mood today.)

These days, I'm still enjoying the second trimester high. I find myself awake at midnight every now and then. I've been busy every evening this week visiting with pals, eating at new restaurants, doing fun activities, and right now I feel just fine. This is a whole new pregnant woman, people!

The belly is definitely growing. Last week was the belly bump's true coming out party at work. I wore one of my first non-empire waist flowy tops and the belly made a darling debut. Now many of my colleagues know that I'm expecting, and I won't have to sweat too many awkward conversations about why my plans seem to stop abruptly at the end of April.

Thanks to the winter coat (it looks like a big trash bag, wah), the outside public is still clueless. But folks at the gym have noticed too. I got some serious stares when I headed up to the weight room last week. I usually stick to my work out classes, you see, and those folks have known for a while, but I've had to cut out two of my regular classes because they aren't pregnant-friendly. So when I headed up to the weight machines, it felt like I had clown make-up on. Folks were staring! Yes, it's true...you don't see a lot of pregnant women at the gym. It's too bad, exercise is so good for us. Despite that, people have a lot of misconceptions about what exercise is acceptable and I'm sure that adding a pregnant woman to the weight-liftin' humanozone was a bit taboo. Anyway, I came within seconds of asking one lady: What are you lookin' at? but I controlled myself. It was good anyway, because I had to negotiate with her for one of the arms machines five minutes later. But it was hard, I tell ya, real hard. In any case, I feel like I'm modifying my exercise very well: no more big jumping (I do the seniors version of the jumping jack--it's kind of cute), no more laying on my back, no more ultra balance work where I could fall. It's pretty simple, and my instructors have been good at giving me ideas when I need them. Last night, I went to a spinning class with an MJ-only soundtrack. I felt awesome. And, in those moments, when the exercise is hurting in that good way, I think to myself: YOU CAN HANDLE LABOR, MANDA! SEE! And the proof is in the pudding, far as I'm concerned.

Oh and my dreams, these precious dreams. They are ALL about babies, children, rescuing children, small animals, rescuing small animals, and, yes, even impersonating children. I dreamt a few nights ago that my pal Kayshin and I were in a performance of Charlie Brown. She was Charlie Brown. Right before we went on stage, I exclaimed to her that I was so afraid, I didn't know my lines, what would I do?! And she said, it's okay, just do this: and dipped her hands into a bowl of melted chocolate and mushed it all over my face. And she mushed it on her face. And we went on stage, talked like little children, with chocolate on our faces, and the crowd loved us. Suzy also ran up on stage during the play and said that the IT Helpdesk was shut down (yep, strange), but then apologized for interrupting us and we continued in our child-like performance. It was a joyous dream! Chocolate on our faces! Giggleworthy. I dream that all of you have children, and sometimes, they come out as little animals, but we love and play with them nonetheless. My dreamworld is a pretty happy, fantastical place.

And, boy, does this baby move. As of literally this week, I feel the baby move everyday. He or she throws bubbles and flips and turns and all kinds of things. Sometimes, baby moves for like two hours straight. Other times, I can only sense a move and then quiet. For the first time, I felt the baby moving from the outside. How exciting. In no time, I'll be cell phone videotaping Little's Spaceballs alien dance from within my belly. Creeeepy, and wonderful!

And now, I turn to Little. Dearest Little, tomorrow I learn your sex (yep, ultrasound number two has arrived). As long as you cooperate, of course. No matter what you are, and how I've imagined you and dreamed you (as a kitten, puppy, and butterfly with a boy's head), I will love you. It will be a most wonderful surprise, one of those few surprises you can anticipate and feel excited about, but it's a shocking, jaw-stretching surprise nonetheless. You see, Little, everything is very different from what I might have imagined very long ago. I used to talk about having you all to myself, no daddy in sight, and you were of course always a girl. You and I were going to rebel, take over world authority, and plant trees and imprison bad men and alternatingly read Simone de Beauvoir and Michelle Tea. But, guess what, Little, there's a daddy! Surprise! Ha, got you too! He has become, somehow, an even more wonderful husband than I could imagine (oh boy, tearing up now), and the things that he and I talk about and think about now feel much more deep and surreal than the imaginary moments you and I would achieve on our own. So, it's an even better arrangement. And, suppose, just suppose, that you are a boy. Well, that would really turn that whole vision on its feet. But I have no doubt that you'll be more feminist and overall, just more wonderful, that the imaginary girl I raised long ago. I cannot wait to learn what you are because either way it will be the best gift of the season, a moment that'll stay with me forever. I'll try to keep it frozen in my heart and mind when I hear the word. So, in advance, Little, thank you very, very much. You've already made life grand.

AND, you breathe water. You are SO awesome.

An Ode to Sydney and Gray

I have officially entered the era of procreation. I have more and more peers, and more and more girlfriends who are in the business of making babies. Wedding season hasn't ended, but the baby era has begun.

It felt so close to me when my best friend of 16 years Laurie told me she was pregnant. It was such a surreal moment when I learned her news. I remembered us being in high school doing flips over the top of the couch and screaming about long kisses with teenage boys and hanging out in her basement for hours with her sisters. It seemed so difficult to imagine her in a whole new role. She and I would talk about our families all the time, now she was making her own family. I mean, committing to a life partner is certainly making a family, but this was bringing a whole new person into the world...making one from scratch! But, you see, Laurie lives miles and miles away from me. She was in Seattle for most of her pregnancy and spent her last couple months in San Diego. I remember when I went down to Maryland for her baby shower--seeing her pregnant was a real mental exercise. It was just mindbending to see her carrying a human being, her child. I was really bowled over, so happy for her, but also just in awe of the whole experience. And, now she has Maddie Claire. At least that's what I call her in my head. Even though I haven't met her yet, I feel like I know her so well already. I have known her mom since we were kids, and I love her already because of it. I cannot wait to meet her.

But, you see, there's also my best friend Sydney. She lives just a few streets away, and I can visit her all the time. And the surrealness of a pregnant best friend was, through the whole pregnancy, right there for me to see. It was a bit less surprising at the end because I had seen her grow, and listened to her stories and experiences and thoughts and fears while we walked through the city or sat on someone's couch.

And then when I learned I was pregnant, Syd was one of the first people I wanted to tell. I knew she'd know though before I was really allowed to tell her. I remember showing up to a party at Jared and Jen's place in late August, wearing my new cleavage, sipping ice water and feeling like a million bucks. Exhausted but ecstatic. I'm sure half our friends figured it out, perhaps without confirmation, that night. And I remember Syd stared at my eyes, raised her eyebrows at me a few times, and just smiled a very sneaky smile. The next time I saw her she said: If you want to fool people into thinking you're not pregnant, you should... And I said, Sydney, I'm pregnant. And she was about to continue her sentence when she just stopped mid-word and gave me a huge, huge hug.

And that was the beginning of a new era in what Sydney and I had.

Sydney was my closest geographically and closest in love and companionship pregnant friend. Early on, she sent me a beautiful email written so off the cuff and clearly from a place of excitement with mixed up happy jumbled words about how she and I were in a community of mothers and we should support each other and share stories and be together. It made me so elated.

From then on, I always craved my Syd. Every time I went out with our friends without her, I wanted her there. When I would have a random fear or exciting thought, I shared them with her or I imagined myself doing it and held on to it until I saw her next. I asked her a million questions, and she asked me a million questions. We would text each other philosophical ramblings reflecting the new ways we saw the world. I remember one of Syd's texts said: Do you look at your Mom and Dad differently now? These were the kinds of deep thoughts and conversations we were embarking on with this new shared experience.

There was never a second that I didn't cherish sharing pregnancy with Sydney. Not a single one. She and I had new clothes to talk about, new baby items to purchase, doctors to compare. When I finally broke down and went on a maternity clothes shopping spree, I modeled them all for Syd and we recognized a few of the same items between us. When she took me shopping with her for her baby shower dress, it was my introduction to maternity stores. Syd held my hand during all the weird hard parts, and she gave me so much confidence that I'd be okay. When I heard Syd's birth story (even though she may worry that she freaked me out), I really left the hospital feeling like: I can do this. I can totally do this.

And now, Sydney and Dan have a beautiful daughter named Grayson (call her Gray for short). And Syd is no longer pregnant.

And that was the beginning of a new era in what Sydney and I now have.

It's true. I'd be lying if I didn't admit it: I'm grieving Syd's pregnancy. It was our special thing together. Even though I was so so so so happy that little Gray finally arrived safely, I spent the last couple weeks of Syd's pregnancy feeling sad that things were changing. I mean, I know delivering a child is the whole point, but there's just something special about being pregnant BFFs together. Touching each other's bumps. Winking in those moments. Understanding each other's cries.

But, really, baby Gray is a wonder. She's so little but so big. She was inside of Syd! I'm still trying to wrap my brain around that one. She is so special, somehow already perfect, and I can't help but love her without her doing a single thing. There really is something about the way you love your friends and watching them become parents. It's magical.

And, so, even though I'll grieve my and Syd's pregnant duo days together, I think our days as mother-best friends will be even more special. We'll still have stories to share, questions to ask, and new little ones in the room to look at, think about, and love. We'll watch our children grow together. We'll make them sleep in shared cribs. And they'll love each other too.

I grew up with my mother's best friends and their children. I love them like they are my second Moms. And their children are some of the most important, special people I'll ever know. We grew up together, and as they start their own families now, it's so special for me to see. I'm so excited that Syd and I will create all of this too. Because I know what it turns into, and it's so remarkably wonderful.

So, this entry started as an Ode to Sydney, the pregnant one. But it ends an Ode to Sydney, the mother. And little baby Gray. Who will certainly be Little's best friend before she knows it. Hold on, Gray, Little is coming.

17 Weeks

When they say that the second trimester is better, it's no joke. I feel like I'm in Happyland, comparatively speaking. But when they say that you'll feel a "burst of energy" and feel amazing again, what they mean is, you'll feel almost normal. Yes, I can finally stay awake past 9:30 PM, I can wait 30 minutes after I wake up to eat my first meal, I no longer feel like vomiting would make my day so much better, and the pimples on my face are starting to look dated.

But it's not as if I feel un-pregnant. There are still plenty of happy and strange reminders that I'm carrying our little darling. There are days though where I go through hours of the day not even thinking about the fact that I'm pregnant. Compared to several weeks ago, this is a whole new daily paradigm!

Second trimester pregnancy has it's own special moments though. I'm still kinda broken out. I now have a hard time putting on my socks. (Fortunately, Sydney showed me her technique. And, at that moment, when she was demonstrating sock assembly, I had to think to myself "This is really happening.") I have officially outgrown all of my normal jeans. I no longer feel silly tracking charming names that I come across. I have started a list of needed baby items. I enjoy cooking again. And I cleaned my house...a little.

It's so fascinating the way pregnancy alters what are seemingly normal experiences. When I work out, I sweat much more and I breathe heavier. I am just getting over a cold that lasted a full week and knocked me off my feet in ferocious fashion (my poor hubby had to see me weep in self-pity in the middle of the night a few nights). Every winter, I get a dry skin flare-up on my hands and this winter it's a full blown rash.

And my dreams. Whoa. My dreams. I read yesterday that pregnant women often feel that they have very active and strange dream lives because they have shorter REM sleep cycles. These shorter cycles are caused by constantly waking up in the middle of the night to pee, or because of heartburn pain, leg cramps, discomfort, etc. Since preggers ladies are waking up more, they are more likely to remember their dreams. Furthermore, dreams may be more strange or emotional because, well, it's a nuanced time--lots of intense emotions, highs and lows, you name it, we got it.

These nights, I definitely wake up so much more often now during the night. I head to the toilet about four times a night. I also wake up in discomfort a lot becuase I am trying to coax myself to sleep on my side. Pregnant women this far along are instructed to not sleep on their stomachs (duh) and on their backs. When a pregnant woman sleeps on her back, she can interrupt the baby's circulation (the weight of the uterus can press on the vena cava), and she can cause muscle pains, a drop in blood pressure, and hemorrhoids. I know, yikes. Well, I've always been a back sleeper so this is a major feat for me. I find myself on my back throughout the night and wake up in frenzy to shift. It's a big project. Even more, they recommend the left side to sleep on as it improve some organ functioning. Hm.

Anyway, my dreams have been out of this world. I dream that I have babies, you have babies, and we all birth baby animals. There's also a lot of rescuing babies, small children, and little animals. I also dream that I'm being a bad pregnant person. In one dream, I sat and chainsmoked and couldn't get myself to stop smoking. In another dream, I got buzzed on a couple beers and then freaked out when I realized I was pregnant.

But truly, the most wonderful thing of all to date of this trimester is feeling Little move. I felt it. And it was amazing. A couple weeks ago, I was lying my bed (apparently being horizontal helps) and I felt something "swim" through me, it felt a bit like a shooting star. I thought maybe...but didn't get too excited because it was so early (15 weeks at that point) and generally they say you don't feel anything until 16 weeks or a little later. Well, I felt Little this week and I'm completely confident it was the babe. I was (again) lying on my bed and the sensation of a bubble of water floated from bottom to the top of my lower abdomen. I shook with excitement for just a moment and and then held as still as possible. And then, again, Little said hello. The same sensation happened again seconds later. It was something I've never felt before and it was so peculiar. And, well, really wonderful. Hello back, Little. I love you.

14 Weeks

It's a whole new era. I still get kind of nauseous, but instead of twice a day, it's more likely once every other day. I'm still exhausted, but I can pull myself out of it for a few hours. My body is moving well into the second trimester and some of my daily tribulations are disappearing.

The Glow
I think I got my glow on. At least Jill said so. I spent yesterday (my first of two days off after my job transition) like this: prenatal care appointment with listening check to Little's heartbeat, stop in to my new job to say hello, go on a mega shopping spree that yields a whole new maternity wardrobe, and a haircut and cute 'do to boot. I felt like a million bucks, and I let myself look like it.

I'm finally showing enough that it's a bit more detectable that I'm not just oddly potbellied. And there are outfits out there that can help. I went in to the maternity clothing shop asking to be directed to outfits that would hide my growing belly, but left with outfits that showed it off. And, hey, the bigger the belly and breasts, the smaller the arms and face look. Everything is relative, and I'm feeling like the current proportions are working in my favor! I started making eyes at my hubby again this week! I'm not feeling like a weird sick blob so much anymore. And with the baby photo to take on the road documenting my baby's cuteness, I can't help but feel like I've got to be kinda cute myself.

The Feel
Apparently, I might be able to feel my baby on the inside for the first time in about two weeks. My co-worker said she first felt it when she propped up her legs on her desk and suddenly a little "fish swim through her." Whoa! Swimming Little! I can't wait until I feel all of it. I'm entering that exciting time when Little will reveal more of him/herself--the movements will be detectable, the sex could be discovered, and Little will more decidedly claim my womb as his home (at least as far as I'll be able to tell).

It's an exciting time and the next 7 or so weeks will usher me and Little and my husband into new relationships, new knowing, and an ultra new realm. I'm diggin' it.

Vulnerable to the World

Carrying a fetus that is so vulnerable to the compounds and traumas of the world requires great care and caution on my part. I've had many moments in the past few months where I'm more thoughtful than ever about the chemicals I put on my body, foods and materials I put into my mouth (ever ate a meal with a plastic fork where you tried to touch the fork as little as possible?), and the gases in the air. Since Little is so little, and so early in his/her development, these environmental toxins and dangers can have a great effect on his/her wellbeing...for a long time to come. It's like the effect of lead on children--neurological development is happening so the impacts of lead poisoning are even more harmful than they are on adults. Exposure to secondhand smoke is the same--physical development is ongoing and children breathe more than adults do so they are even more vulnerable.

In any case, there was a huge factory fire just a couple blocks from my home on my street this week. The fire raged for days, and summoned firefighters from all of the city's stations. It was a real 7-alarm kicker. I went outside out of curiosity to see the action, but retreated after just a few minutes to minimize my exposure. I couldn't help but stare though at all of my neighbors who carted their infants and toddlers out to watch the flames burn. I was worried about the fear this might cause them, but even more so about the kind of damage they might sustain, temporary or long-term, from inhaling the smoke and all of the associated chemicals flying into the air from the burning insides of the factory.

I also had a great, sad scare a few days ago. The morning after the fire, I rode my bike to work with Lauren. We parted at 4th and Arch toward our respective offices. As I turned down Spruce Street, I was thrilled to see that it had been re-paved but unhappy to notice that the lanes (including the bike lane) had not been repainted. Well, I had reason to worry. A few blocks later, a car made a last minute turn right in front of my bike (no turn signal of course). I tried to squeeze the brakes but toppled over on my bike regardless. The car didn't stop. No surprise. When I'm biking, all cars are the enemy. I wasn't seriously hurt, just scraped up and sore ankles. But I was more mentally harmed. I got so scared. When I was moving through the air off of the bike, I tried to quickly think about how I could fall to minimize harm to the baby. I kept my abdomen pulled in and thrust out my hands and feet first. When I got up, I just cried. I pushed my bike into the street and weeped. Several people saw it, and two of them stopped to ask if I was okay. I was fine, just sad and scared. A woman pulled my bike out of the street and put it next to me. I just stood there on the sidewalk and cried. I felt so sad that I made Little so vulnerable, and so angry that a driver would perpetrate it all. One of the onlookers was a mother with a stroller packed with two young children. She's the only person I made eye contact with--like she might understand why I'd cry after what was, overall, a minor fall with no real physical harm. Anyway, I weeped my way to work. It was all very scary. I know everyone will expect me to not ride anymore during my pregnancy, but I'm still undetermined. Riding my bike to work is an important part of my exercise routine and it makes the day feel much better. But now it will be more scary, and Little is so vulnerable to the world.

First Ultrasound

A couple weeks ago, my husband and I went to the prenatal diagnostic unit to receive genetic counseling and complete the first ultrasound. Little's first photo!

I was instructed to start drinking about 32 ounces of water an hour before so that my bladder would be full during the ultrasound. This apparently ensures that the difference between the bladder and uterus can be detected--why this is necessary if there's a fetus in one and not the other is unclear to me but we'd have to go to my sonographer pal Heather to know. What I was not told was that prior to any ultrasound, my husband and I would first undergo about 45 minutes of genetic counseling. Alas, I showed up with a full bladder and no screen to show it off on. About 4 of my 5 questions to the genetic counselor were: can I go pee now? Besides all of that, an unexpected complication caused an hour delay so I didn't actually go into the ultrasound room until about 2 hours after my assigned arrival time, which meant that I refilled and emptied my bladder about four times, in debilitating abdominal pain through the whole thing. I also learned that too much water causes nausea. I wanted to just lay down and sleep for days, or vomit a couple times before doing so.

The genetic counseling conversation was interesting. We primarily discussed family history, the likelihood of several conditions, including down's syndrome, trisomy 18, taysach's disease, spina bifida, and cystic fibrosis, and, at my request, we looked at the inherited Deafness in my family. The counselor said that the pattern of Deafness in my family going back to my great grandparents indicated that there were likely both dominant and recessive genes for Deafness in my family. This was an exciting and interesting discovery. She said that she assumed that I carried only the recessive version based on the fact that me, my brother, and my cousins are hearing; however, there's always a possibility that I'm a carrier of the dominant version. She couldn't give me any predictive probability, but even just what I learned was very interesting. Having a more precise probability figure would be possible if my Mom and my Aunt had their blood looked at for the genetic information--this is absolutely not necessary but it was even interesting to learn how this kind of genetic info could be gathered in my family. This conversation yielded yet another piece of my family history--genetic history--which I'm so happy to now know.

Then we proceeded to the ultrasound. Oh Little! He/She was very mobile, but also very well behaved. The sonographer said that Little was one of the most cooperative fetuses she's ever worked with. I'm already proud! At the very end, Little threw his hands and feet in the air, scrunched his tiny face, and then punctuated the whole thing with a flip to face downward. Then, just like his mother might do, he turned his backside to the camera to show off his bum.

The photo we brought home was truly amazing. I promise to post the ultrasound image as soon as we scan it. A remarkably clear shot of his/her face. Cute pouty lips and a perfectly button nose. One might look and suspect that Little is a girl--it's such a feminine pose--but I remind you that Little's daddy is Argentine and Italian. The Euro man face is charmingly sex-neutral. I'd venture to say that Little is gonna be a looker!

12 Weeks

So there was no magical moment, no twinkling of the universe, nothing remarkably grand when I woke up and stepped into my second trimester. Well, nothing more than feeling that the pregnancy is more sound and secure than it was a couple weeks ago and even more than several weeks before that. Honestly, that alone is sufficient.

But, if I could be selfish for just a moment...come on! Can I get some energy spurts? A properly functioning stomach? The delightful honeymoon phase? One piece of it, just something? I thought it was coming on last week when I went out to dinner at 7:30 at night (I know, so late, right?) with Beth, Meghan and Loey. I was so proud of myself for waiting until that hour for dinner (I'm really making myself sound bad now) and I felt great right up until we were heading home when I started to crash. I was so worried that I would have had to just stay home because I was too tired, too nauseous, or just too plain hungry to eat like a normal person in public. I remember thinking...this is it! It's coming. A return to normalcy--the end of the alien abduction of my body! The loved little parasite rests in waiting!

Alas, no. This weekend my sweet mother took care of me while I laid horizontal for nearly the whole two days. She had to witness me eat more food than she's probably eaten in the last two weeks. It's so not over.

I did however purchase my first "maternity" clothes. On Friday morning, I perused Fit Pregnancy and saw this epic-ly cute dress. It was black, stretchy, and edgy. Just my style (in better days, I suppose, but still). It retailed for $90 but I found it on ebay for $40. It wasn't a maternity dress, per se, however. It was a super stretchy little black cocktail dress that some falsely pregnant chick in a magazine fit herself into. I thought--eh, it's worth it. If I feel right now like looking that cute is in my near future, it's worth the money to take the risk. I bought it in a size large (fearful it was all a hoax), it arrived yesterday, and, dang, I like it. I think it will look even more cute when my belly is a more full size. Right now, my first scheduled wear is Nico's work holiday party, but we'll see if I get it out and about prior.

My ma and I also went to Target where none of the clothes in the store looked nearly as cute as the clothing available online. This is seemingly often the case in retail stores that have maternity sections in addition to women's wear. I bought a pair of stretchy pants, a stretchy top, and a pair of work pants. Basic, immediate needs met. I wore the stretchy pants and top all weekend long. Finally, some comfy clothes that fit.

Thursday is my first ultrasound, first picture of Little! Little is the size of a lime now. Once they see him or her on the big screen, we'll get a more precise due date. Right now, April 30 is the best we've got.

We'll also be undergoing genetic counseling to learn more about the likelihood of inherited outcomes. I'm just hoping to learn the exact probability that our child will be Deaf--I hope they can calculate that. That will be so cool to see that number, and feel like it's a good, distinct possibility. It would just feel right to have a Deaf child, like I'm keeping my family the way it is, and not morphing it into an all hearing family for generations to come. Fingers crossed.

Maternity Wear

Oh boy oh boy oh boy. It's a sad moment for this lady of looks to see the fall styles really passing me by. They're not made for this evolving shape! Here's the tale of my first encounters with maternity wear.

A couple weeks ago, Sydney patiently held my hand in my first sojourn into maternity wear. We went to a maternity clothing shop in Rittenhouse. She said, See, some of these clothes are nice. She was absolutely right. Some were downright adorable (see dress on LEFT). The only hitch is that they are ridiculously expensive (also see dress on LEFT). Call me cheap but paying more than $60 for one skirt just isn't my bag. There's not THAT much more fabric, people! It's a total scam, preying on women who've ballooned into a strange new shape and are just aching to still be cute in public. (At home, I just wear boxers or stretch pants. Poor hubby.) I very slowly perused the store, taking serious glances at the store clerks to see if they would offer to help me, or if they just perceived my belly as simply big. I think I worked hard enough in assistance of Syd that it wouldn't have been right for them to ask, but it was a mind vortex of a situation regardless. This was my future. My outerwear future. A big huge, stomach hole of a winter coat was awaiting me.

Sydney looked really cute in the outfits she tried on though, so I was hopeful. A few days later I went to the maternity section of another Rittenhouse spot. The clothes were so weird. Half of them were like swimming in pools, while the other half was already so tight and stretched. Wha? I was so confused. And the sizing--it's all either small, medium, or large (when did that ever really work for women's bodies?) OR it's your size now plus some pregnancy growth. Was I a size 6 or a size 10? I didn't understand it at all. I did find only one pair of pants that seemed to fit okay. They were work pants, and I'm desperate for some as I only have one pair that still fits. It was a moment of reckoning, though, buying those pants. I slid up to the counter, and put them down. The cashier then asked me something very reasonable about my purchase and I. JUST. FROZE. Stood there. Couldn't say a word. Only stared. And then I turned, and briskly scampered away. Without a word. Left those pants right on the counter and abandoned ship so fast. It was a moment I was not yet prepared for--wearing pants with stretchy fabric that hikes up to my boobs, moving up in size, spending money for these big changes, acknowledging that not only clothing but LIFE is different, picturing big bras that collect milk leaks, incorporating baby carrying accoutrements into my everyday wear, and, um, having a CHILD. Yeah, that too. It was all just too much. I can only imagine the look of fear that cashier saw. Before she soon saw nothing but the back of me running away.

Spilt Beans

After getting confirmation of a heartbeat, boasting a pretty substantial baby bump, and approaching the second trimester with startling speed, my husband and I decided we could let loose the flood gates and spread the word. It was truly such a relief. Even he said so. And evidence of his excitement became apparent when friends approached me having already heard the news from him--when we went for it, he really went for it. It warmed my heart.

It was so fun to share the news because I'm really a horrible liar. I think my face gives it away after my sensibility prevents any accuracy in telling the lie. It's funny because when I was a kid, I remember I used to make up the most elaborate of lies for the most random of audiences. I remember telling my Sunday School teacher one week that, no, I couldn't remove my heartshaped, pink-lensed sunglasses because I now needed them to correct my vision. And, why were they pink and heartshaped? Well, obviously because my Uncle Kevin who is (suddenly) an optometrist loves me so much that he made them pink and heartshaped to publicly demonstrate his love for his niece. I never wore them again after that week, but my Sunday School teacher entertained my ridiculous lie regardless. Now that I think of it, my Sunday School class got a lot of those compulsive lies--I also remember telling my teacher that I needed 5 minutes of class to ask my fellow students questions about crickets as I was participating in a very important study about perceptions of crickets. She refused to oblige, so I asked my fellow students to stay after class and answer my important questions. Only one kid did. Jerks. I was no older than 10, mind you. So, now I surmise, even though I was a persistent little liar back then, I was never a good liar. How could I possibly, therefore, lie twenty years later about something as big as making a baby?!

While I'm sure plenty of folks we shared the news with really kind of already knew, it was refreshing to confirm their suspicions. It's hard not to guess when I'm not drinking, hardly going out, and looking a bit swollen. And it has been fun to hear folks say: I knew it! Of course you did, we're loving friends and it's a hard thing not to know when we know each other that well. I was also tickled when Kristine said that she sensed it, as a mom with a special kind of radar. I want to sense it too--I want to be one of the first to know when more of my best friends tread down this path. I want to be a special insider that giggles at the thought and the slowly evolving sight!

11 Weeks

11 Weeks. That means almost 12! At the heels of the second trimester. It's literally days away. I'm thrilled that my Mom will be in town with me visiting when Week 12 starts--hopefully, I'll magically feel better!

Hmmm, what has 11 weeks felt like?

A lot more exhaustion. Even more than I felt before. Keeping my eyes open past 9 PM is a difficult exercise. I feel fatigued. Waking up in the morning feels like the next day came after just 15 minutes of rest, and when I finally fall into bed each night, it feels like I haven't slept in days. There has been a lot of fun activity and commotion lately with Sydney's baby shower and visiting with friends and Phillies games, and I'm only able to participate through sheer will. I've found myself falling asleep during Phillies playoff games and Eagles games--this is NOT the Amanda that once was!

I've also had incessant eye twitching--I know many folks (non-pregnant included) experience this at some point. I just learned this past weekend that it's even more common during pregnancy because it's brought on by: fatigue, stress, and/or vitamin deficiencies, all of which are more common during pregnancy as the body focuses so much energy on the growing baby and contributes most of its nutrients to the baby. It leaves little for me. I'm taking a prenatal vitamin and another omega supplement with additional nutrients so I'm getting the intake that I need, but it's still not enough. Why you such a parasite, Little? Taking all my good stuff...

A whole lot more heartburn too. Apparently, the surge of hormones has interfered with the functioning of the valve between my stomach and my esophagus. (That too?!) Many of you know that my valve is already faulty. I've had acid reflux since I was a teenager (it runs in my family) and I've been on a daily medicine regimen for over 10 years. With this new interruption in functioning, I go to bed most evenings in some heartburn pain. THANKFULLY, Tums are okay and they're my new daily additional dose of calcium. It was a tough decision for me to proceed with taking my GERD medication as its Pregnancy Category is Category B. That means: "Animal reproduction studies have failed to demonstrate a risk to the fetus and there are no adequate and well-controlled studies in pregnant women OR Animal studies have shown an adverse effect, but adequate and well-controlled studies in pregnant women have failed to demonstrate a risk to the fetus in any trimester." There are 5 categories ranging from A (best) to X (worst). I made the decision to continue taking my medicine with my primary care doctor and my midwife through a risk-benefit analysis process they seemingly often use to work with women in making difficult decisions to continue or discontinue their medications. Since there are no demonstrated risks related to my medication, and it's a known truth that I would be in intense heartburn pain everyday and all day if I didn't take it, then we decided that I should continue with it because being in pain and experiencing stress from the pain might be a greater risk for the baby then the drug itself. My doctor explained that some women continue to take lower category drugs because they have little choice--some asthma medications for example are in more dangerous categories but not taking them could cause risk of death to moms-to-be. It's a fascinating process and I was lucky to have the thoughtful input of very supportive female providers in thinking through what I wanted to do, but I still have a tinge of regret and fear. My body is my body--it has always been this way--and this is the best option for me now. I'm hopeful that more research will eventually be available so other women who have GERD can make more informed decisions, though human studies on pregnant women are a very risky venture. I was also remiss to learn that there are almost no medications that go into the Category A rating--there is a huge research gap for most adult pharmaceuticals.

OH YES, and the strangest discovery came last week when I went in to get my teeth cleaned. It was a very painful regular cleaning. The dental hygienist told me that the hormones ALSO cause my tissue to become more tender, which can cause some inflammation of the gums and teeth sensitivity. I was cringing through the whole thing, and afterward I felt like my mouth was swollen. About five days later, and my mouth is still sore. My hygienist told me that twice she predicted clients' pregnancies by working on their teeth. Both women said they weren't pregnant, but months later she received confirmation that they were. I was also tickled when the dentist emerged, and she too was pregnant. Yay pregnant club! She asked me how I was feeling, and told me that literally on her first day of Week 12, everything changed. The morning sickness disappeared; it was replaced with a burst of energy. I'm just days away and hoping it'll turn on a dime for me too! When I was leaving, she very sweetly said: "Next time you come, you'll be bigger! And I'll have a child!" Oh boy, that's right. I'm in the getting bigger, lots of changes part. You're in the confronting full-on parenthood, new PERSON ON THE EARTH part!

Hm, and what else? Oh everything! Including exercise. It feels different. I'm now officially ALWAYS the sweatiest person in my gym classes. Before I was just usually the sweatiest person. I get more heated when I work out (cheeks stay red for about an hour), and my body feels a lot heavier even though I've gained just 4 pounds. Some moves now feel like they are anathema to my physical make-up. Like doing abs exercises on my back. It feels very, very wrong. I'm supposed to stop doing them when I start Week 12 so I only have a few more days of them, but I also read that I should do them as long as I can as they're important muscles for carrying and delivering. I'll have to explore abs work-outs from different positions for after this week. Right now, it feels like there's a strangely shaped weight sitting right on my abdomen and I'm trying to stretch muscles around it. Just not a good sensation at all. And exercises where I bring my legs up to my torso feel wrong too--like there's an interior barrier that I just can't move around. It's no surprise since my uterus is now the size of a small CANTELOUPE. That's big!

Little is just the size of a fig, however. He can open and close his hands now, and hopefully all the webbing is gone. I'm also concerned about that tail. I hope that's gone too. Are you a boy, Little? Come on, tell me.

9 Weeks

Oh boy, nine weeks has a serious feel to it. A heavy, sickening, overwhelming feel.

It includes nausea that has extended beyond my mornings into my early evenings and well into my late nights. It includes fatigue that hangs on all of my muscles, pulls my limbs to the ground, and sits right on my eyelids. It includes a post-meal exhaustion that rolls over me like a tsunami wave and then rolls off a half hour later. It includes alternating constipation and diarrhea, and the most foul flatulence I've ever known a human to produce. It includes bloating that convinces me that I could easier roll around than walk. It includes the need to run to the toilet at least twice every night, clutching my sore breasts with one arm and holding my bladder in with the other. It includes the biggest breakout of acne that my forehead has seen since I was 14. It includes intense aversions to random smells--foods that are salty smell sweet and vice versa. It also includes cravings of foods I don't eat often or haven't in ages: pizza covered in mushrooms and Apple Jacks cereal. It includes an insatiable hunger that somehow sticks around long past the end of a meal. It includes dizziness, occasional loss of balance, and mixed up depth perception that makes going down the stairs a thoughtful exercise. It includes being on the verge of huge tugboat tears daily at the sound or thought of sad news, even for strangers.

Apparently, all of this, is either caused or affected in some way by the great amount of hormones swirling around inside right now. Soon enough, though, my body will get used to this roller coaster ride (please by week 12? hm, week 14 might be more likely). That's the peace I hear the second trimester brings. I can't wait!

But nine weeks also includes excitement at the notice of every new change, a race to the second trimester and even more confidence that this will be a healthy pregnancy with a beautiful, healthy baby at the end of it all. It includes greater freedom in looking, feeling, and being pregnant. It includes less obsessive reading about miscarriage stories, and more reading about the changing paradigm: from person to parent. From one to two to three. From just me to us, ours, we're pregnant, we're a family, it's all right here, around the corner, really not too far from nine weeks at all.

First Prenatal Appointment

Yesterday, my husband and I went to our first prenatal care appointment. I was very excited about this appointment because aside from the long list of pregnancy symptoms I'm dealing with, I was hoping for some additional, medical confirmation that, yes, there's a baby growing inside. Of course there is. But there's something that feels safe about the proof that only a healthcare provider can offer. Like when I did two home pregnancy tests and followed up with a doctor-administered urine test the next day. It just feels more real when a doc acknowledges it.

I was hoping that we'd get to experience our first ultrasound on the day of, but alas, we'll have to wait about three more weeks for that. The next best thing was hearing the baby's heartbeat. The nurse midwife was hesitant to try to listen for it since at nine weeks there's no guarantee that it can be heard. She was worried that the absence of a heartbeat would concern us. I had a hunch though that we might be able to hear it since a previous physician who saw me just a few weeks ago told me that my uterus was positioned very close to the front of my body (hence, the early arrival of the baby bump). I didn't say anything, but the nurse midwife mentioned the same thing. She then very generously obliged, and offered to try to take a listen. I promised not to worry if we couldn't hear it (was this a lie? perhaps...I'm only human).

Minutes later, she came in with some goo and a grey wand connected to a handheld speaker. I squealed! I had to lay so still. At one point, we heard my heartbeat, and then as she moved to my right side, she slowed the wand, held still over a couple spots, and then we heard it. It was so amazing and wonderful. A quick paced beat, loud over the speaker, so fast and healthy sounding. Proof of the baby! I heard little's heartbeat! I stared at my husband and beamed from ear to ear. And then, I HAD to ask: You only heard one in there, right?

And, finally, introducing...The Baby Bump!

You can only see it when I'm naked or when I'm wearing stretch pants, which I am inclined to do much more often these days. I know...already with the stretch pants. But it is there! Baby says hihi! Or rather hola!

It's a bit of a strange bump. It's low, very close to my crotch. Nothing like the bump of a big meal. It's like my body goes in from my breasts down to the bump where it suddenly just plumps out like, well, a piece of fruit sticking out of my body. (I'm clearly still thinking of my plum-sized uterus!) My husband and I keep forgetting to start taking our weekly photographs to capture my body's changes. Well, we're already pass zero to something because this baby bump is already something!

My morning sickness varies day by day and my hunger has not waned a bit. Imagine feeling like you want to throw up while simultaneously experiencing the most intense hunger of your lifetime...several times a day. Sometimes, I eat a whole bagel and I'm starving again about 15 minutes later. I'm eating more for sure, but I've only gained a pound since I learned I was pregnant. I guess baby is taking care of it. Plus, I'm still exercising almost as much--I've just cut out my weekend workouts for the most part so that I have more lounging time.

I've had a bit of transformation in my psychology of self a bit lately too. I have so little desire to dress up cute, let alone sexy. I want to wear cover-up clothes and comfy shoes. I saw a cute pair of high heels the other day and thought to myself--maybe in a few years I will wear something like that again. Wha? I hear that the second trimester will be different though, so I'm already hopeful. I used to enjoy getting dressed up cute! Now it just feels like a chore that pales in comparison to everything else moving around in my head. I bet once the bump is bigger, noticeable through clothes, I'll have fun planning a whole wardrobe around it. That'll be my return to self!

I love the baby bump. I already love our baby, somehow! I enjoy cradling it. I cannot wait until my first full-blown prenatal care appointment on September 28. Sydney said that they may do the first ultrasound then. Eeeee! How exciting. If things look good on the screen and heartbeat sounds good (I'll be 10 weeks then), then there will only be a 3% chance of miscarriage from then on. It'll be a huge relief.

Last weekend, I had the pleasure of hanging out with two babies on my day trip with Sarah to go bridal gown shopping. It was pretty surreal. I felt this new comfort holding the babies, like I'm a bona fied person who has the capacity to do it and not do something stupid like drop the baby. It's like, well, my body says I'm capable so might as well live like it. I also feel more maternal towards children I see on the street. I feel more invested in how they are being cared for. I've joined some legion of parents and future parents that need to heal all children. It's a bit overwhelming, especially since our city is full of so much negligent parenting. Here's hoping I don't have the gall to take my baby bump into the war on behalf of Philadelphia's children. I don't think having just a baby bump qualifies me for much. Except a whole lot of excitement. :)

The Rules

I’m obsessed with learning the rules for preggers ladies. I receive several weekly and monthly newsletters. I read different kinds of websites—the science-y ones, the hippy ones, the capitalistic ones—they all serve different needs I have to learn the rules. And I google a new question everyday. They always start like this: “safe during first trimester to…” Then they are followed by things like: eat Caesar dressing, high impact exercise, step classes, go to beach, symptoms of overheating, use sunblock, take nexium, take tums, paint rooms, bike on bumpy streets, etc. Many of my daily activities are verified for safety with a quick google check, then a bout of intense fear, curiosity, comfort, and often, moving full steam ahead.

It appears that much of daily life is just fine for pregnant women save exposure to the hundreds of chemicals all around us. I have been embarking on a chemical cleanse since the start of the new year. I’ve tried about 3 or 4 crappy all natural shampoos by now, I order $35 moisturizer online, and I am over time getting rid of all of my cleaning products in favor of less toxic options. But, now that I’m pregnant, it’s a whole new ball game. I never clean without rubber gloves. I don’t drink tap water (the pipe going into my home is made of lead, as I’m sure some of the city’s pipes are). I buy almost all of my body products online. And I LIVE by the Environmental Working Group’s Skin Deep Cosmetic Safety Database which allows you to enter products, analyze the ingredients, and learn about research-demonstrated risks of the included synethetic and natural compounds. It’s a sick game when I get excited about a new product, type it in, and see a disturbing 5 or 6 rating (0 is the best). Then it’s back to the drawing board. Yeah, I’m on that site’s newsletter list too.

Spilling the Beans

We are truly ecstatic to share our joyful news, but convention says we are supposed to wait a while--until we enter the second trimester and the risk of miscarriage is significantly less likely. As I have read up though over the past couple weeks, I've seen that convention may be outdated. More and more moms-to-be in Weeks 4 to 8 are telling family and close friends. We've decided to do the same.

The expectation that pregnant partners will withhold this good news from everyone does women no good if you ask me. It assumes that miscarriage is a smite on the family, a reason to be embarrassed, whereby women feel more like failures and further stigmatized.

My husband and I have decided that we are comfortable slowly but surely spilling the beans to our family and very close friends between now and the end of the first trimester with the hope and expectation that these folks will be there for us if something goes wrong. We would never want to go through that alone, so why would we not tell anyone we are pregnant. Good news is meant to be shared, and nothing is guaranteed. I'd be devastated to have these wonders in pregnancy kept silent, only to lose the pregnancy and never have shared these exciting moments with people I love. It would make it feel like I was never pregnant, that Little never existed, and that my husband and I never embarked on the beginning of perhaps the most special time in our lives.

I am nervous about sharing our news in the way that is best for us. I am a bona fied terrible liar, and my friends are smart enough to know what to look for. Besides that, we know people we love are happy to know, but they've been told too that spilling the beans this early only sets us up for uncomfortable exchanges should the worst occur. We are going to move ahead though with the worst far from our minds, with joy about our future and the future of our little, and with the comfort and relief that if the news turns bad, we'll have a group of folks to rely on.

And, besides all of that, there are some mixed reactions. My wonderful friend Sydney who is further along in her pregnancy shared some good advice, explaining that folks will react with as much shock as love, as much envy as joy, and as much grief as celebration. Our friends will have to reflect on the reality that our lives will never be the same. And, while we feel life will be infinitely more wonderful, it may take some of our friends a minute to get there.

But the most warm reception, and the most often received, is utter excitement. I will never forget the looks on the faces of our parents when we shared the news. Complete surprise, red faces, huge as hell smiles. Sheer and utter joy. When I told my Mom that I knew for only a week so far that I was pregnant, she asked why I hadn't said anything earlier. So much excitement for this happy, ecstatically wondrous time!

6 Weeks

I hit the Week 6 mark two days ago. Since Week 4, I've been receiving weekly updates from a pregnancy info site that explains the insanity of growth within. Our little embryo is about the size of a kernel of corn. Last week, no larger than a lentil. Our little is growing rapidly now, he/she has a heartbeat, flowing blood, dimples for eyes and ears, and a growing neurological system. Little even has the capacity to move around and respond to touch. It all blows my mind!

I find myself having strong urges to pet my womb and cup my belly with embryo-size hugs, but then I feel silly for having so much love for a little bundle of barely developed cells. In any case, I can't help but love Little already.

My body is already changing so much.

The Boobs
My breasts are sore as hell! So sore! Every time they are touched, I cringe. When I walk up stairs, I brace them with my forearm. Last week, in my aerobics class, I folded my hands across my chest to keep them from severe bopping around pain. They are growing quickly. My full hand can no longer hold one, and, forget about it when I jam them into my push-up bra...they look larger than I ever have seen them. My nipples are darker too. Thank goodness they aren't larger yet, that'll be a moment.

A la Toilette
I pee constantly now. I have to go every hour, and somehow I'm still thirsty throughout the day. Every time I go, it's a steady stream. Apparently, my plum sized uterus is pushing on my bladder, creating what feels like the neverending need to pee. I consider all of my trips mindfully calculating where the nearest toilet will be. Yesterday we drove down to Delaware--our trips to and fro both started and ended with sprints to the toilet.

Growing Womb, Growing Appetite
I've got the textbook cramping, a sign of my growing womb. And my appetite has increased to match. Somehow, I can consume an egg and toast breakfast, and still feel as hungry afterwards as I did before my first bite. I am only satisfied after a series of little meals, and that feeling of full has eluded me for days now.

Emotion Commotion
I have felt infinitely more prone to crying fits--anything can set me off. A couple weeks ago, reading the headline of a Philadelphia Daily News article about a teen who died playing basketball set me into a half hour of tears. Every time I feel remotely sad, I cry. Last week, a grumpy old man bumped into me as I was crossing a downtown intersection, and I couldn't help but sob. I felt like all that I was doing to protect Little was for naught as I couldn't protect him/her from the infractions of others. It was just a bump though in the middle of Walnut Street. And even though it felt violent in the moment, I'm not sure my extreme reaction wasn't prompted by the hormones rushing through me.

And, finally, Morning Sickness
I have to admit, I was a bit worried that I had not felt a lick of nausea before this week. I visited my doc on Friday and asked if I should be concerned. I read that the experience of nausea can be a sign of a healthy pregnancy with decreased likelihood of miscarriage so for some unknown reason I woke up every day waiting for a sick stomach. When I asked "should I be concerned?" She politely smiled and said: "You should feel so lucky, but you're not in the clear yet." I know now what she meant. I woke up yesterday morning feeling sick as hell: hungry like a wolf with swirling insides and dizziness. It felt like a dull hangover. And my first meal didn't fix it. And this morning showed it was no fluke--I felt just as sick this morning. I'll have to discover a routine to deal with this.

Oh yea, and that Gall Stone
I spent eight hours in a hospital ER about a week ago due to what I suspect was a gall stone that passed while I was in the waiting room. Now, that was serious pain. It took days of information gathering to feel more sure, but a nurse in the ER mentioned it as a condition pregnant women were more prone to due to the increase of estrogen in the body. I hope it won't be something to look forward to again in my pregnancy.

As much as these symptoms are annoying, painful, and strange, they are sources of great joy. Any sign that our little is growing, and his/her home inside is becoming more nourishing and comfortable, is welcome.

Testing Positive

On August 22 of this year, I learned I was pregnant. After one positive home pregnancy test, my husband and I jetted off to CVS to purchase another one for some more certainty. It showed up positive too, so I was as sure as I could be without a doc's stamp of confirmation.

I became pregnant on only our second try. It was a bit shocking to have such quick success, though we'll only truly know our success once we make it into the second trimester and feel more confident that things will go well. We discontinued birth control in early July so to conceive within a matter of weeks from then was a big surprise, especially since most post-pill pregnancies start at least 3 months after stopping the pill. The doctor who confirmed my pregnancy a day after our home test did called me Fertile Myrtle.

Within the week prior to learning of the pregnancy, I had my first symptom: sore breasts. I was in an aerobics class and my breasts were incredibly sore. Pregnancy crossed my mind for a split second but I considered it so unlikely since I had just stopped taking the pill. I assumed I was heading into PMSville, and felt annoyed that it interfered with my workout. On the day that I took a home test though, my second symptom arrived: constant urination. I mean CONSTANT. I have to go pee every half hour it feels like. That day, I trekked up to our second floor powder room about 12 times before I said, heck, I should just take a home test for the heck of it. And, well, the rest is history.

Following these Weeks

Welcome to my pregnancy blog. I know there are about a million blogs out there already documenting the 40 weeks of wonder, but I think there's something special to learning about the peculiar pregnancy adventures of the women you love and so this is something I offer to my family and friends.

And, well, for full disclosure, this is also a service to myself. Every day I wake up, feel something strange and different, and just want to share it all. I think this will be a charming record of my experiences that I can enjoy for years to come, and (knock on wood) something for our child to enjoy also.