What makes it all worthwhile

The it...

...and why it's all good in the end...



(This made me cry, I was so touched.)

On the inside:

(Printed) Wishing you a day blooming with happiness!

(Written by Pete) "I thought you should get used to this kind of card. Anyway, it's practice. To my loving wife on her birthday."

My first "mom" card ever. It was so touching that he took the time to pick out a card that would mean so much to me, and wrote some personal thoughts in it as well. This was accompanied by a dozen red roses, a belly rub, dinner at our favorite Indian restaurant, and a movie (Public Enemy) at the dollar theater—during which he excitedly whispered facts in my ear about the gangsters, cars, and guns in the movie. So cute.



I love my husband.

P.S. I'm feeling MUCH better today, so I am feeling smiley and positive :)

Abs-olutely miserable

DISCLAIMER: I sometimes worry that I'll turn people off (my readers, that is) if I start talking too much about one thing, or not enough about another. And then I realize that hey, this blog is about ME, and it's about my life and family/friends and what I'm going through or thinking about on any particular day. And if I want to talk about pregnancy stuff ad nauseum (ha ha, cuz that's certainly part of pregnancy), then I will. This is my outlet for my inner being, and if people want to come here to share, that's great. If not, there are a million other blogs out there with more exciting content. I don't mean to sound all hard-ass, I guess it's just my way of making a disclaimer about this post and past/future posts regarding my current favorite subject: pregnancy.

One of the things that has been plaguing me throughout my pregnancy (besides headaches, acne, and the occasional moody breakdown), probably since day one, is abdominal pain. This one has caught me by surprise, because I've never heard of women suffering so much from this as I have. Oh sure, I've heard complaints of back pain, or bloating, or the wonderful headaches (which I'm already used to, pre-pregnancy). But the abdominal pain is something I didn't expect to have so much trouble with.

I definitely expected to have problems with my abs, since there's a lot going on there with muscles growing/stretching/moving, and obviously that's going to cause some discomfort and pain (mostly pain for me). But when I ask other women if they suffered from this, they all seem surprised or a bit confused, and only say that they had a little discomfort or problems with their abs, and that's about it. I was in pretty good shape when I got pregnant, just 10-15 pounds over my "goal" weight, but with really strong abs that could do 50-100 crunches easily. So concerned, I asked my doctor about it last week. She said it's normal, and unless it feels like contractions (it doesn't) then she could only offer me advice (Tylenol, rest, heating pads) and some sympathy. I've tried them all, and they only take the edge off the continuous pain. There's not much help on the Internet either, only a few other women complaining of the level of pain that I've experienced—surprisingly, more in my second trimester, since this is supposed to be my "golden time" of pregnancy.

Pete does not seem to understand how much this hurts me, almost on a daily basis, and it's much worse some weeks than others (this is a bad week). He understands back pain, and often gives me massages (which he is used to from the Hooveritis problems I've had), but whenever I mention how much my belly hurts, he typically just says "Oh" and goes about what he was doing. I know he doesn't mean anything by that, but to not have your husband understand and sympathize with your pain is hard.

So the only thing that offers relief is when my abs decide to stop stretching so much, and I go back to feeling happy and content again. It's almost magical when I don't hurt all the time, when I'm happy to be pregnant and can feel the baby kicking down below. That's a side effect of the ab pain—I don't feel the baby kicking much at all, and that makes me hurt physically AND emotionally. I start freaking out and worry that the little bean is suffering, or not growing properly, or even dead in there, and I worry endlessly until I feel the occasional kick. It's scary, because I normally feel him/her quite frequently during my "good" days, so to feel nothing most of the day is very difficult.

I'm certainly not complaining about being pregnant, and for the most part, it's been wonderful. I had hardly any morning sickness (3 weeks of strong queasiness) and the headaches only hit a few times a week, no more frequently than my past migraines did (which were much worse). The acne? Well, I can deal with that, I certainly have in the past. A full bladder at night hurts a lot, rather than being uncomfortable, but our bed is 15 feet from the bathroom, and nightly trips are normal to me now. Even the back pain is tolerable, having dealt with that so much in my life.

But the ab pain is horrible. From rolling over in bed (the worse), to just sitting in a chair drawing at my computer, it's agony. The pain has been pretty much non-stop since Sunday, and the last time this happened, it lasted a week (which was a few weeks ago). I can only hope that in a few days (or sooner, if I'm lucky) the pain will subside and I'll be back to my rotund, waddling self, happy to be growing and changing along with the baby. I do wonder if the pains are signs of the baby going through growth spurts (certainly my uterus is), and that's a small consolation to me, something I can hang on to in order to deal with something I have little control over.

I hate to use this as a forum for complaining about something so wonderful as having a baby. But I feel like I can share with you all, and just get the feelings out there, if not for relief, then for a small peace of mind...to get all this ugliness off my chest. And yes, I'm glad to say I can feel the little bean kicking right now as I type this, so I feel a little better about things, if not in body, then in mind.

Thanks for listening, and I hope to be back to a happy, goofy, regularly-scheduled post tomorrow.

(Image from sheknows.com)

Thirty-six

Me at seven. I love my gap-toothed grin and wonderful posture in this picture.



Yup, it's that time of year again. It's the time of year when I usually get really depressed for no reason and feel sorry for myself. That was the case last year.

Not sure why I get so moody on my birthday, but this year? None of that. Which surprises me, because I'm laid off, underemployed, and money has been tight—Pete has had his of hours cut, too. And now with the baby on its way, I often lay in bed at night, worrying about the future and what I'll do when unemployment runs out, hopefully something which I won't have to worry about til next year (please please please give me an extension, IDES!).

But things just seem rosier now for some reason. I think there are many reasons for that. The fact that I'm no longer working at a job that I've HATED for the last few years is one. The fact that I'm starting to mix things up with my freelance work and continue to do what I love, at home. The fact that I get to work at home (for now), preparing for the future, for when I am taking care of our little bean and so lucky to be able to spend my time with him/her. And that's one of the biggest facts of all: the little bean. I've droned on and on about how wonderful life is with the baby coming and with something meaningful to look forward to, but I gotta tell ya, it's true. It does change so much, and he/she isn't even here yet.

True, my health still isn't wonderful. A lot of that has to do with being preggers, and I think that tends to distract me from the fact that there are still underlying health issues that I'll have to deal with once the baby is born. But again, I have the opportunity to raise a child, love them, teach them, laugh and cry with them, and of course, lose lots and lots of sleep. But it's all worth it.

I also just feel more comfortable in my own skin. The fact that Pete still finds me pretty when I have a face full of acne (thanks, hormones), or that he calls me Sexy Bear in my pregnant state and actually finds me attractive (yet cute with the tummy and all), does a lot for me confidence-wise. So does the fact that I don't care if I have 2 readers of my blog, or 22 readers, or whatever; my blog is for me, and for those who care to see how I am or what's bugging me or what's making me (or them) laugh. So does the fact that I can have fun with my camera and try new things and play as if I were a little kid again—albeit, a kid with an expensive and complicated camera. So does the fact that I have a loving family and friends who never notice when I've put on 10 pounds (well, until now, lol) or when my hair is misbehaving (almost daily) or when something isn't fitting quite right. They do notice when I'm not feeling my best, and they are always there to help me feel better, offer advice, make me laugh...whatever it takes.

So, to cut this ramble short, I just wanna say that 36 is looking pretty darn good. Yeah, it's on an average weekday, and not on the usual holiday weekend it falls on 3/4 of the time (grrr). Sure, I have no particular plans today and we'll probably just eat meatloaf I plan on making for dinner. And yes, life will go on as always, trudging (or leaping or rushing or tip-toeing) toward 37, then 38, and beyond. And I'm cool with that. I haven't been able to say that for several years, but I definitely feel it this time around.

Happy Wednesday, September 2nd, everyone!

Not quite ready to graduate from cooking school

As a side note to last night's wonderful dinner, I must admit it started out a bit shaky. I mentioned I had to run out to get bread flour from the store, right? So off I went, made my purchase, and returned home with said flour in hand.



I set the bag on the counter next to the bread machine, and carefully read the recipe instructions. And what kind of flour did I end up using? No, not the bread flour that was sitting right next to the bread machine, but the bag of all-purpose flour that was way up high in the baking stuff cabinet. I actually had to get a chair, climb up, find the bag, open it, measure it out, and pour it in the bread pan. I didn't realize my blunder until a good 15 minutes later, when I was thinking about how to store the extra bread flour and realized that I never even opened the bread flour. And to my horror, I saw the all-purpose flour sitting innocently on the counter, far from the bread machine, but obviously opened and used.



Meanwhile, the bread machine churned away, merrily mixing up the rogue dough with nary a worry.



Oh well. There's no emergency stop button on the bread machine, so I had to make do and whip up another loaf of bread. Funny, cuz in the past that would have sent me into a frenzy of panic and anger, but I just shrugged, called myself a dum-dum, and started making those lovely Ghirardelli brownies.



Is it the influence of the little person who's on his/her way? I think so. So much is starting to roll off my back, and things seem less critical than they used to. Getting upset over wonky bread is not worth the time and effort. And the little bean was popping about inside me as I baked (poorly), reminding me that there are so many other things in life to worry about that are far more important. And after all, who can get mad when you've got brownies baking in the oven?



(Cookie image courtesy of Cookie Madness)