Last night, while in bed, my baby was visciously kicking me / exercising her limbs inside my tummy.
Usually the kicks are infrequent, and difficult to project when or where she will strike.
But, this time, she seemed quite insistent, with 1-2-3 little bumps on my inside being felt, all in a row, all around the same place - lower abdomen. I told the hubby to put his hand flat "right here", which he did.
To which I then asked: "Did you feel that?" Him: "No." Me: "Did you feel THAT?" Him: "No." (insert frustrated sigh here) Me: "How about that one, did you feel that one?" Him, smiling: "Yes, I felt it."
So, last night, for the 1st time, my husband felt our baby kicking the juice out of my insides. Magical moment.
The kicks and punches have become more frequent and more pronounced. With 3 months to go, I can only imagine that it will become even more so.
What a little athlete!
Thursday, August 28, 2008
Tuesday, August 26, 2008
When in Rome
There is a problem with the interwebz here. It malingers in and out of consciousness. This has become very annoying.
News on the pregnancy: I went to the gym last night. No no – not to exercise, goodness forbid! Just to check things out and see what is available at what price.
I pointed to my stomach, and intoned, in my best Captain Obvious Voice, “Highly Pregnant.” The overly excited sales person / “consultant” then started going off on a tangent about how yoga is very good for pregnant ladies, in fact they have a class on now, and at this special special rate, you could join now, at as very little as so much per session, or so much per month. All you have to do is sign away your immortal soul and pledge eternal allegiance to the art of “body sculpting”.
I thanked him for his time and said I’d see them all next year. You know, after I’d popped the kid. My budget just would not allow for anymore stretching. It’s holding on for dear life as is.
Lately, the “round ligament pain” which is “completely natural” and “expected”, has been bothering me immensely; especially at night. It makes for difficulty in lifting my legs, walking about, getting up, getting comfortable, and so on. It’s not pain exactly. It’s just a sort of acute pressure in the groin area. The books say this is caused / aggravated by long periods of sitting (I have a desk job), or standing.
Nothing can be done about it. I’m supposed to lie down, or take a nap when this happens. I wonder how my manager would feel about that.
I’ve noticed that going for frequent walks do help a little; but, not much. And, walking for exercise after work doesn’t do it for me, because I’m convinced I need frequent bathroom breaks. Not so kewl when one is in the middle of nowhere.
Besides, my gym wear don’t fit me at all anymore. I’d have to get 2 new pairs of XL pants. Sigh. I didn’t expect my high knee to enlarge along with my now bulbous stomach.
I know I’m supposed to be exercising, but even my doctor told me joining the gym now would be a colossal fruitless and wasteful adventure. A waste of money: in other more eloquent words. I’m supposed to walk. The books say I’m supposed to stretch and do light weights, and this and that exercise.
Alls I knows is, once this kid pops, I’ll be back at the gym, paying for torture.
News on the pregnancy: I went to the gym last night. No no – not to exercise, goodness forbid! Just to check things out and see what is available at what price.
I pointed to my stomach, and intoned, in my best Captain Obvious Voice, “Highly Pregnant.” The overly excited sales person / “consultant” then started going off on a tangent about how yoga is very good for pregnant ladies, in fact they have a class on now, and at this special special rate, you could join now, at as very little as so much per session, or so much per month. All you have to do is sign away your immortal soul and pledge eternal allegiance to the art of “body sculpting”.
I thanked him for his time and said I’d see them all next year. You know, after I’d popped the kid. My budget just would not allow for anymore stretching. It’s holding on for dear life as is.
Lately, the “round ligament pain” which is “completely natural” and “expected”, has been bothering me immensely; especially at night. It makes for difficulty in lifting my legs, walking about, getting up, getting comfortable, and so on. It’s not pain exactly. It’s just a sort of acute pressure in the groin area. The books say this is caused / aggravated by long periods of sitting (I have a desk job), or standing.
Nothing can be done about it. I’m supposed to lie down, or take a nap when this happens. I wonder how my manager would feel about that.
I’ve noticed that going for frequent walks do help a little; but, not much. And, walking for exercise after work doesn’t do it for me, because I’m convinced I need frequent bathroom breaks. Not so kewl when one is in the middle of nowhere.
Besides, my gym wear don’t fit me at all anymore. I’d have to get 2 new pairs of XL pants. Sigh. I didn’t expect my high knee to enlarge along with my now bulbous stomach.
I know I’m supposed to be exercising, but even my doctor told me joining the gym now would be a colossal fruitless and wasteful adventure. A waste of money: in other more eloquent words. I’m supposed to walk. The books say I’m supposed to stretch and do light weights, and this and that exercise.
Alls I knows is, once this kid pops, I’ll be back at the gym, paying for torture.
Nefarious wiles
So, the question posed today, class, is that of the nature of self esteem, and the possible aggravation of negativity when pregnancy hormones are introduced.
How much of this is the baby’s fault? And, how much of this was merely an underlying affliction, lying in wait for the opportune moment to strike?
Well, first and foremost, no fault lies with the young babbie – She didn’t ask to be brought here, she was merely the fastest swimmer in the bunch. Kudos!
Based on my personal history, and what I know of myself, I’d say, this was probably a malignant tumour just waiting to be awoken.
So, self esteem: or more accurately, the lack thereof.
I have an existential query.
How much is too much, and how much is not enough?
In my humble experience, when in a boy/girl relationship, certain things happen in a certain sequence without fail. Yes, classmates, a pattern has emerged.
In the amorous beginnings, all is well with the world, romance is rife, and the relationship a prolific breeding-ground (if you’ll excuse the implied pun) of love, lust and well-being.
That lasts a while; a couple months, in fact.
But, somewhere the balance of attention–seeking and attention-needed go badly afoul. There is a fine balance to be kept, after all; elusive equilibrium.
I am the mad smotherer.
The more I am pushed away, the more I smother. And, at some point, it all becomes unbearable.
I wonder what the emotional dynamics of this would illustrate.
Sometimes people need time apart to miss each other. Sometimes, people need to have separate lives, and interests – just to keep the mystery alive.
I want to show love and receive love. But, how much is too much? How much is not enough? Is it ethical to act in a certain way to get a certain result, if said actions do not reflect the true feelings behind them?
Mostly, I just feel fat.
And, it’s not his fault.
Relationships are hard.
How much of this is the baby’s fault? And, how much of this was merely an underlying affliction, lying in wait for the opportune moment to strike?
Well, first and foremost, no fault lies with the young babbie – She didn’t ask to be brought here, she was merely the fastest swimmer in the bunch. Kudos!
Based on my personal history, and what I know of myself, I’d say, this was probably a malignant tumour just waiting to be awoken.
So, self esteem: or more accurately, the lack thereof.
I have an existential query.
How much is too much, and how much is not enough?
In my humble experience, when in a boy/girl relationship, certain things happen in a certain sequence without fail. Yes, classmates, a pattern has emerged.
In the amorous beginnings, all is well with the world, romance is rife, and the relationship a prolific breeding-ground (if you’ll excuse the implied pun) of love, lust and well-being.
That lasts a while; a couple months, in fact.
But, somewhere the balance of attention–seeking and attention-needed go badly afoul. There is a fine balance to be kept, after all; elusive equilibrium.
I am the mad smotherer.
The more I am pushed away, the more I smother. And, at some point, it all becomes unbearable.
I wonder what the emotional dynamics of this would illustrate.
Sometimes people need time apart to miss each other. Sometimes, people need to have separate lives, and interests – just to keep the mystery alive.
I want to show love and receive love. But, how much is too much? How much is not enough? Is it ethical to act in a certain way to get a certain result, if said actions do not reflect the true feelings behind them?
Mostly, I just feel fat.
And, it’s not his fault.
Relationships are hard.
Monday, August 25, 2008
Brainoscopy
It’s been less than fun blogging lately.
I’ve read in my various pregnancy books and magazines that it often happens that women become feeble-minded / absentminded / forgetful during the pregnancy. I find this holds true.
However, I’m the kind of person who always knows where her keys are (unless they’ve been hi-jacked by he who will not be named, but is very much loved). So, that’s not where the atrophy of mind has struck.
It’s been a source of much frustration for me – verbiage. I can’t seem to put my brain on a word. There I’d be, having a perfectly fine conversation with the hubby, knowing what I want to say, and just abruptly halting. “What is that word…? Man! If I can just remember that word… AAARRRGGH!!”
On the upside, these blank outs are temporary and I eventually manage to get the word off the tip of my brain and into the conversation. Thank goodness for that.
Now, I must indicate at this juncture that English, although it has now become my home language by marriage, is in fact my second language. I still speak Afrikaans with my parents, brother, friends, at work. It is more prevalent for this to occur when speaking the language of the Brits, than my home language.
I wonder if there have been studies to this effect.
Regardless, this is just one more of the many many varied quirks of being high up the pole.
Typing up a blog post is less than exhilirating when one can't remember a word, or have a certain tone in mind, but can't get it out in writing. As you may have noticed, this post... sigh. Not one of my favourites, but I felt I should say something.
I am now 24 weeks into this thing. With the science available today, if my baby was a premie (pre-mature) at this stage, she will more than likely still survive with minimal problems. … That said – I should also add that, survival is linked to the quality care baby will get; also how soon that care can be administrated.
I wonder if science can save my brain...
Somewhat unrelated:
The hunt for the perfect name is still on. We have sort of decided that the initials E.L.L would be charming. We have a middle name down. And the surname is self evident. So any suggestions for English E-names would be welcome. Hell, maybe even some Afrikaans ones. The polls are open. Don’t be shy.
I’ve read in my various pregnancy books and magazines that it often happens that women become feeble-minded / absentminded / forgetful during the pregnancy. I find this holds true.
However, I’m the kind of person who always knows where her keys are (unless they’ve been hi-jacked by he who will not be named, but is very much loved). So, that’s not where the atrophy of mind has struck.
It’s been a source of much frustration for me – verbiage. I can’t seem to put my brain on a word. There I’d be, having a perfectly fine conversation with the hubby, knowing what I want to say, and just abruptly halting. “What is that word…? Man! If I can just remember that word… AAARRRGGH!!”
On the upside, these blank outs are temporary and I eventually manage to get the word off the tip of my brain and into the conversation. Thank goodness for that.
Now, I must indicate at this juncture that English, although it has now become my home language by marriage, is in fact my second language. I still speak Afrikaans with my parents, brother, friends, at work. It is more prevalent for this to occur when speaking the language of the Brits, than my home language.
I wonder if there have been studies to this effect.
Regardless, this is just one more of the many many varied quirks of being high up the pole.
Typing up a blog post is less than exhilirating when one can't remember a word, or have a certain tone in mind, but can't get it out in writing. As you may have noticed, this post... sigh. Not one of my favourites, but I felt I should say something.
I am now 24 weeks into this thing. With the science available today, if my baby was a premie (pre-mature) at this stage, she will more than likely still survive with minimal problems. … That said – I should also add that, survival is linked to the quality care baby will get; also how soon that care can be administrated.
I wonder if science can save my brain...
Somewhat unrelated:
The hunt for the perfect name is still on. We have sort of decided that the initials E.L.L would be charming. We have a middle name down. And the surname is self evident. So any suggestions for English E-names would be welcome. Hell, maybe even some Afrikaans ones. The polls are open. Don’t be shy.
Tuesday, August 19, 2008
Thursday, August 14, 2008
It's a pink one!!! ... probably
Yesterday the hubby and I were fortunate enough to visit with both the dentist (zero cavities!) and the obstetrician. I had another scan on my tummy. The "anatomy scan". Everything looks fine. Legs and arms intact. Big feet. Little fingers. No harelip, tiny nostrils, tiny mouth, arms carelessly thrown back, feet crossed in a relaxed position. Baby is living it up in mommy's tummy.
The kicks and punches have become more pronounced, but hubby has not been able to feel them yet. Even to me, it feels only like an insistent butterfly, trying to take off against the inside of my lower abdominal area.
The sign of ze hamburger means that it is in all likelihood, a pink alien. ^_^
The search for an appropriate name can now start in earnest.
I'm not entirely convinced that it's a femme yet. We may get a surprise in December, or at the next scan (which will be in October). I've heard many stories of predictions that went the other way. Besides, all the gender predictors that I've had a look at, predict a boy.
I don't really care either way. The baby looks healthy and happy. And, that's all that really matters, innit.
Stay tuned - scans to follow (tomorrow, when I remember to bring them to work with me)
The kicks and punches have become more pronounced, but hubby has not been able to feel them yet. Even to me, it feels only like an insistent butterfly, trying to take off against the inside of my lower abdominal area.
The sign of ze hamburger means that it is in all likelihood, a pink alien. ^_^
The search for an appropriate name can now start in earnest.
I'm not entirely convinced that it's a femme yet. We may get a surprise in December, or at the next scan (which will be in October). I've heard many stories of predictions that went the other way. Besides, all the gender predictors that I've had a look at, predict a boy.
I don't really care either way. The baby looks healthy and happy. And, that's all that really matters, innit.
Stay tuned - scans to follow (tomorrow, when I remember to bring them to work with me)
Friday, August 8, 2008
Monday, August 4, 2008
germination
I spent the last week feeling about ready to die.
You never appreciate everything you have, until you lose it, or can’t make use of it.
Like, breathing for example. Or, the ability to use meds.
Yes, ladies and germs, when one is preggers, there is a list about as long as the wall of china on the meds you are no longer allowed to take, because they pass through the placenta and drug out the baby.
So, I went to the hospital last week, they put me on a drip for 4 hours. Liquids and meds. I had a scary temperature. Headache, body pain, runny stuffed nose (go figure, right), ear ache, increased heart rate, fever… it was not fun.
So, hopped up on strepsils and panados, I spent the past week in a daze, sleeping many a morning away. It was good to take a week off. Now, back at the office, I have SO much to catch up on, and missed 2 important meetings last week. *sigh*
Two more months – then it’s the holy grail of leave: maternity leave for 4 months.
But, that depends if they are gonna let me come back. I have a temporary contract till December. But, I’m going on leave in middle November. So, that is to be discussed. Should be interesting. I wonder if I am eligible to claim UIF. Apparently, if you do not get full salary during maternity leave (which I won’t, if I get anything at all), I should be eligible for UIF, but you have to apply. 2 months before you go on leave, actually.
On the upside, I am no longer sick. I have a bit of a chesty cough, but I’m sure that will leave in time.
On the downside, my medical bills are just about piling up to form their own mini-Kilimanjaro. Not kewl. And, don’t get me started on my retarded medical aid. Sigh. Things sure are expensive. More forms, more money out of my pocket. It’s so much admin to get to.
At least I have my health. Sort of.
You never appreciate everything you have, until you lose it, or can’t make use of it.
Like, breathing for example. Or, the ability to use meds.
Yes, ladies and germs, when one is preggers, there is a list about as long as the wall of china on the meds you are no longer allowed to take, because they pass through the placenta and drug out the baby.
So, I went to the hospital last week, they put me on a drip for 4 hours. Liquids and meds. I had a scary temperature. Headache, body pain, runny stuffed nose (go figure, right), ear ache, increased heart rate, fever… it was not fun.
So, hopped up on strepsils and panados, I spent the past week in a daze, sleeping many a morning away. It was good to take a week off. Now, back at the office, I have SO much to catch up on, and missed 2 important meetings last week. *sigh*
Two more months – then it’s the holy grail of leave: maternity leave for 4 months.
But, that depends if they are gonna let me come back. I have a temporary contract till December. But, I’m going on leave in middle November. So, that is to be discussed. Should be interesting. I wonder if I am eligible to claim UIF. Apparently, if you do not get full salary during maternity leave (which I won’t, if I get anything at all), I should be eligible for UIF, but you have to apply. 2 months before you go on leave, actually.
On the upside, I am no longer sick. I have a bit of a chesty cough, but I’m sure that will leave in time.
On the downside, my medical bills are just about piling up to form their own mini-Kilimanjaro. Not kewl. And, don’t get me started on my retarded medical aid. Sigh. Things sure are expensive. More forms, more money out of my pocket. It’s so much admin to get to.
At least I have my health. Sort of.
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