Moving at a glacial pace

It seems like in the last week or so, the size of the pregnancy has finally gotten to me. In the mornings, I wake up moon faced from the water retention. This goes away after a while but the weight everywhere else just stays on.

My fingers and feet have started swelling a bit more and my fingers are very stiff. Thank goodness I gave up playing the piano years ago. I don't think I could manage actually playing it now. Anyway, there's the swelling and also the general weight and its associated stresses. Apparently, the babies are putting weight the fastest at this point because they're just gaining fat to prepare for the journey into the world.

People have asked whether it's getting heavy. I don't think heavy's the right word because it's not like I'm straining or anything to heave my bump around. But I am aware of how it is putting strain on my joints. My knees ache when I go down stairs and I walk at a pace that a snail could very easily overtake. I guess, that's the heavy that people talk about? I don't know.

All I know is that it's harder to move around, to go shopping and to be out in general. Doctor's orders are to be horizontal for as much of the time as possible. But he knows my temperament enough to not insist on total bed rest. So I guess as long as I spend a sufficient amount of time resting and the rest just lumbering around slowly, it's ok.

But lumbering really is the right word now. And I was with the best friend just now and she just bought a pair of skinny pants. Her baby's about 18 months now and she's skinnier than she was before. As I watched her try on the pants, I couldn't fathom how I could go from my size now to where she is so once again, I mournfully declared after looking at myself "I'll never be thin again!"


Technorati Tags: Pregnancy, weight

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Sensitive mommy

Some people really need to be smacked around and taught proper etiquette around mommies to be. But then again, maybe I'm just being sensitive in my advanced stage of pregnancy. It's ok to comment and state the obvious that someone is large although it depends on how it's said to me. By friends who haven't seen me in a while, I don't mind so much. By some who express surprise that I'm large, I give a very quizzical look and go "er, if I wasn't, there would be a problem here." By those who exclaim and make a big fuss about it along the lines of "why are you soooooo large?", those are the slap worthy ones.

Similarly, with the rubbing the belly. When friends do it as a sign of affection, I'm fine with it and I'm quite happy for them to rub my belly although I did jokingly comment to a friend once that what she was doing would seem weird if I wasn't pregnant. Her response was that my belly was public property. Coming from her, it was funny. If someone else, especially a stranger had said it, I would thwack the person with my strangely heavy handbag.

There are however people, relatives, friends and acquaintances alike that are somewhat rude. And it is puzzling to me. I mean, these are usually polite people. They don't go round asking the obvious like "ay, have you gone fat?" etc so what puzzles me is why they think, just because someone is pregnant, which I might add, is an extremely common condition with hormones that already make for an even more sensitive woman, that they can get away with openly laughing at your clumsiness, awkwardness or the fact that you have no choice but to waddle? It really befuddles me and it's not because my brain is cotton wooly from the hormones or anything but isn't it just plain downright rude to go "ay, you walk funny!" or "you walk like you have something wedged between your legs!"?The latter was told to me by a friend who was plain offended when her best friend told her that in the very late stages of her pregnancy and the baby's head was engaged.

On top of that, pregnant women are known to go through various dermatological changes that may leave them looking less than attractive. I am fully aware of how self-conscious us pregnant women are at the sight of skin break outs, blotchy skin, extreme eczema, sometimes larger noses or swollen lips, swollen fingers and feet and angry red rash and welts from the heat. All in, because of how large we become, there's a lot of consciousness about how we're changing physically. I'm thankful that I was spared most of the skin conditions except for some early eczema and of late, a nose that looks like I had a cold and blew it too much. But I hear what cruel things are said about how one's lips are swollen, how ugly they are because of dark blotches of skin round their nose and cheeks and I wonder why people are so damn cruel? And cruel to a bunch of people who have absolutely no control over what's happening to their bodies. It's unfathomable.

Perhaps I'm just being grumpy because of the heat. My doctor told me very matter-of-factly that I feel so incredibly hot because of all the oestrogen raging through my body and that hormone dilates all the blood vessels making me a perfect candidate to live with the polar bears for a while. He also added that such heat cannot be easily alleviated by cold water and airconditioning because it's heat from within. And he asked me to prepare for more especially if I was going into confinement for my first month. I replied in the affirmative and he wished me all the best. So perhaps it's just that which is making me grumpy about this issue. But then, when I think very objectively about it, I don't see how anyone can make a case for it. When you tell people who make such unsavoury comments off, they will probably just tell you they were joking and we shouldn't be so sensitive. Well, perhaps, but like I said, us pregnant women, not the more secure and assured in the looks department, how not to be sensitive? And like I said, isn't it just common courtesy? If I had a nickel for everytime I wanted to say something rude to some of these people that have been all too generous with their opinions and comments, I'd be able to buy all the Kate Spade diaper bags in the world for myself now. But I chose not to. Why can't they?

A quick check on Google revealed that there are a whole ton of websites dedicated to pregnant mommy etiquette. That means I'm not the only one who has encountered it. Which once again begs the question- why???


Technorati Tags: Pregnancy, What not to say to a pregnant woman

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Beached whale

I have friends who laugh at me now because they've never seen me so huge. I feel like I need to wear a sign that says "wide load, passing through". It's changed my posture, it's changed how I do things, including flipping over in bed.



But I am happy to say that most of the wide load huge-ness comes from the fact that as of yesterday, I'm carrying about 3.4 kg of baby plus paraphenalia. It doesn't seem a lot for one baby as my mother would remind me, but I'm happy that they're growing and putting on weight. Now the trick is to keep them in for as long as possible so that they can be the parasites that they are and take whatever nutrition they need from me and grow even more.

And I will just have to struggle with a limited variety of clothes that I can wear now and plod about in slippers because nothing else fits.

Technorati Tags: Pregnancy, baby weight

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Becoming Mom

Everyone says, inadvertently, we become our parents. In this case, I become my mother, which fills me with fear. My mother is a great person, she's selfless and she will go to thenends of the world for her family. But my mother is also neurotic and I need to not be neurotic because I will drive my children insane the way she drives me insane.

She rings me this morning.

Mom: I bought you more baby clothes.
Me: Ok, thank you!
Mom: But how big are your babies going to be?
Me: Small.
Mom: Yah, do you know that if your babies are under 2kg, they have to go into the incubator?
Me: Yes mom, I know. I'm not illiterate and it's not like I don't have a doctor. ( I didn't want to scare her and tell her it wasn't an incubator as much an entire neo-natal ICU ward).
Mom: So, you better stop dieting!
Me: ????
Mom: Yah, I see the way you eat, it's hardly enough for you.
Me: I eat the way I eat because if I eat anymore than I do, I will throw it up because there's no space!
Mom: How you want your babies to grow if you don't want to put on weight?
Me: I waited so long for this, you think I'm going to throw it away because I don't want to be fat????
Mom: Yah what, you were always scared of growing fat!
Me: Have you seen me lately? Do I look like a person who is now bothering about how fat I am?
Mom (tone becoming a whine because she knows it's a losing battle): Yah, but you don't eat. How your babies going to grow?
Me: My babies are growing fine.
Mom: Yah but....
Me: Don't you lie there in the middle of the night and think up things to irritate your pregnant daughter with!
Mom: How you know??
Me: Wah lau.....

So yes, that's my mother, being pesky, neurotic and as usual unreasonably accusatory. She'd hear one thing from someone, extrapolate it into a situation that fits one of her children and accuse us of doing the same thing. As a teenager, I had a lot of issue with that because she once overheard my tuition teacher scolding another friend I was having tuition with for not doing her Economics homework. After tuition, I got hauled into my parents room and given a stern talking to about how they were paying so much money for tuition and I wasn't to waste it by not doing my homework.

Unfortunately, not only am I going to inherit my mother's neurotic nature, I have a memory like an elephant which spells great danger for the children. Now I just need to get a cricket paddle and get Packrat to smack me over the head everytime I seem to channel my mother's peskiness!

Technorati Tags: Pregnancy, nagging mothers

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Guilty pleasures

I'm feeling extremely extremely huge now. The basketball's grown to the size of a full size beach ball. Tossing and turning at night is a feat all by itself and it generally causes contractions because of the effort. But the trick is to keep the bubs in for another 4 weeks so that they'll be fully cooked when they're born. That's important. NICU is very expensive!

My doctor gave me a list of things to do to make sure they don't arrive any earlier. Even then, we're still taking a risk because apparently the physical strain of the size alone can cause them to make an earlier than expected appearance. Anyway, some of the things he said to do was to

a) rest
b) Not get stressed (hence being on MC)
c) Not exercise vigourously so no more pilates. Swimming is still on the kosher list thankfully.
d) Watch the salt intake
e) Watch the sugar intake.

E is quite hard to pull off because I like Ribena, I like juices and I like the occasional chocolate after a meal. E has also caused a blanket ban on durians because it's high in sugar and calories. I had lunch later than usual this afternoon. That meant I was more hungry than usual. So, after lunch, I had an apple- healthy. But I was still hungry. So, I had 2 wafers filled with caramel- not healthy. Even then I was still hungry. So I decided on having a Tim Tam- yum, but also not kosher. And I looked into the Tim Tam pack and realised there was only one left. So, rather than leave that lone Tim Tam to its inevitable fate, I decided, I would have it as well. That's when I got full. And I was also full of guilt. *Gulp*.

I don't think it's enough to tip the scales but all that indulgence and extra weight and zero calorie food just makes me feel bad. So to make up for it, my late afternoon snack was a bowl of yoghurt. Now, I don't feel that guilty but I'm super full and super bloated. I need to go for a walk. Now, where's that leash?

Technorati Tags: Pregnancy, food, gestational diabetes

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Incurring the wrath of a 6 year old

Conversation I had with my niece this evening.

Beth: Why are you so fat?
Me: Because I was hungry and swallowed a basketball.
Beth (Laughing): No you didn't. You're pregnant! Why are you pregnant?
Me: Because it seemed like a good idea at that time.
Beth (totally not getting it): What are you going to name your babies?
Me: What about Cornflakes and Coca Pops?
Beth (beginning to get indiginant): No! You cannot name them after cereal!
Me: Can I name them after fruit? Durian and Jackfruit?
Beth (more indiginant): No! No cereal, no fruit!
Me: What about ang dao and lek dao (red bean and green bean)?
Beth: What's that?
Before I could come up with an explanation for that that didn't involve food, my mother chimed in and added: red bean and green bean!
Beth: NO BEANS!!! Why must you name your babies food?????
Me: Cos it's funny and it irritates you! And that's funny.
Beth (sulking): It's not funny, you didn't swallow a basketball and you cannot name your babies after food. You must name the proper names like Bethany!
Me: Yes boss.

So apparently, all food or produce is out of the question. But then, if she had her way, she'd want the babies to be named "Poo poo" and "Goo goo". Not the most imaginative. I still think Bluto and Beatrice were a total hoot of an idea. But her elder brother, Bruce, frowned so hard at the name Bluto, we thought his face was going to freeze in that expression.

So dark is the wrath of them.

Technorati Tags: Pregnancy, baby names

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The typical Singapore student

As a teacher, I know firsthand that students, especially Singapore students are fond of last minute work. They've made up terms for such procrastination and all nighters. Packrat calls me a nerd because I was always one to finish my work before hand. Uni papers were written and completed days before the deadline, leaving me time to edit and re-edit. I used to plan and write lectures at least a week before I had to deliver it. Yes, I'm a complete nerd but that's how I did well in uni. Haha.

Anyway, it just occurred to me a few days ago that I haven't been doing my work. Not work work. I've been pretty conscientious with finishing that. I'm actually talking about baby homework. I realised that whatever books I'd been reading, the information is going to be out of date in a couple of weeks and there'll be a new challenge up ahead. One that I'm totally unprepared for and have been ignoring.

The realisation that as long as the offspring were in the belly, I knew what was going on and I knew what to expect, well, vaguely anyway. And that, the minute they popped out, all the information I have stored in my head now, would be of absolutely no use! So, like every other Singapore student who needed to cram for the impending exam, I rushed out to the library and got myself some books about sleep habits and basically dealing with twins, not just being pregnant with twins, but what to do with them when they are out and screaming bloody murder.

I've made some rapid progress through the book but also come to the realisation that perhaps, subconsciously, I didn't want to read all this stuff because it was like reading my future and I don't particularly look forward to that part of my future. Of course, the rational part of me tells me, it's good to be prepared and not think it'll be a bed of roses, not that I actually think that now! And the voice of my brother resounds in my head telling me that it builds character.

After this experience, I'm sure I'll have character oozing out of my ears. And it's unlikely I'm going to get an A grade, even with all this last minute studying.

Technorati Tags: Pregnancy, caring for newborns, books

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Stripping the rifle, blindfolded

The joke when my friends were all serving National Service was not whether one could strip their rifles down in x number of seconds but whether they could do it in x number of seconds blindfolded. Apparently, they were supposed to be so familiar with the rifle that they were supposed to be able to do that.

Fast forward.

I've been told that it's not too early to pack my hospital bag. Especially since two babies mean an extremely high likelihood of early delivery. So rather than pack blindy and panic while everything is happening so quickly and I'm doubled over in pain and trying desperately not to swear like a hokkien sailor, I've started the rudimentary packing now.

I was also advised to bring a breast pump to hospital. It facilitates the production of milk and prevents engorgement, a process I hear is nearly as painful and hair-wrenching as labour itself. I haven't really bought myself a breast pump or 2 for that matter! My mantra is wait and see, especially since the set I'm eyeing costs an arm and a leg and one Kate Spade diaper bag combined. On top of that, my mother's idea of a joke has turned out to be of some use after all. The trick now is to figure out before hand, how to assemble the damn thing. I have also been inundated with horror stories of breasts hard as rocks and having to bear with the searing pain all because there was the inability to assemble the contraption. And looking at the parts, I'm not surprised that it takes a rocket scientist's IQ or a very calm collected mind to be able to put it together.



So, I try, conscientiously and obediently following instruction manuals. I hate instruction manuals. In my book, if it's not intuitive, it shouldn't have been bought. But since I didn't buy this in the first place and am still reluctant to actually spend real money on my own breast pump, them's the breaks. After a couple of false starts and a half hour, I finally figure it out.


This is one way of doing it, straight into the bottle and straight into the crying bub's mouth if necessary.

Then, there's this way, into a cup, into the fridge so that if the bub is crying and mommy is feeding the other bub or way to knackered to even open her eyes, there's sustenance a waiting.

All I have to do now is to figure out the steriliser that a dear friend bought me as a baby shower present so that I can sterilise the equipment before packing it into the bag. It's huge, it's got its own instruction manual and its own cleaning solution. Now, that, I'm leaving for the man of the house to come home and figure out. I figured out the pump, it's his turn to do the work, after all, the kids are his too.


Technorati Tags: Pregnancy, breast pumps,

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Coming clean

I haven't been all that honest on this blog. I keep telling myself, after the next visit, when things are more certain, when I know for sure, when it will be safe and a whole bunch of other excuses. Some people have guessed it because of the occasional slips and some people know it because they know me outside of cyberspace so it's not all that big a secret.

Even then, I figured it's 31 weeks in the making and I should basically come clean and announce it loud and clear- We're having twins!

Also, it makes blogging about them a whole lot easier.

There, it's all out. They're not identical though. So they won't look all that alike. As for the gender, this one, I really can't help you with because we have an extremely uncooperative and shy one who has never quite been all that forthcoming about whether he/she is a boy/girl.

So what's different about having twins? You get bigger faster, your symptoms are a whole lot more exaggerated and there's a whole lot more to worry about. This morning, I was told in no uncertain terms that I had to stay away from durians. It's sugar I don't need, that might trigger all these wonderful things that I'm more at risk of encountering because of the offspring. It's a whole lot scarier too, especially since I'm going from 0- 2 in 10 months. That's really into the deep end for you!

Technorati Tags: Pregnancy, twins

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The elusiveness of sleep

O sleep! O gentle sleep!
Nature’s soft nurse, how have I frighted thee,
That thou no more wilt weigh my eyelids down
And steep my senses in forgetfulness?
Why rather, sleep, liest thou in smoky cribs,
Upon uneasy pallets stretching thee,
And hush’d with buzzing night-flies to thy slumber,
Than in the perfum’d chambers of the great,
Under the canopies of costly state,
And lull’d with sound of sweetest melody?
2 Henry IV (3.1.7-16)

Yet another thing that I was warned about, the inability to sleep as the belly grows larger. There are a few practical reasons for it.

1. I pee a whole lot.
2. I need to sleep on my sides. Sleeping on my back isn't kosher although strangely enough for me, it's still comfortable. And to sleep on my sides means my shoulders hurt and I need to flip over. That's where it gets tricky. Trying getting a giant whale to turn turtle and then flip onto its other side.
3. It's hot. Even with the air conditioning.
4. Braxton Hicks contractions- when I try to turn the effort causes my belly to seize up like a giant rock, making it all the more uncooperative in the effort to flip over, therefore waking me up.
5. The offspring think the quietest time of night for me is time to rock n' roll and party in the belly.

So, I don't sleep all that well. Finding a comfortable position is almost impossible. And by the time I do, I wake up again. And when I wake up, I'm really wide awake. Lying there, twiddling my thumbs, thinking about how I could possibly blog about sleeping and wondering if I thought enough about blogging about sleeping whether it would actually put me to sleep. I'm thankful that I'm on leave and don't have to face hyperactive youngsters who need to be entertained to learn. If that were the case, not only would I be sleepy, I'd be extremely grumpy.

-intermission for a really big yaaaawwwwnnnn-

Oh, don't and please nobody tell me that this will prepare me for all the sleepless nights that I've actually signed myself up for. I know and am very aware of the sleepless nights and I don't look forward to it which is why I want to try and sleep as much as I can now. It's as ridiculous as Packrat's argument of why he WoWs so much now, because he won't have time later, but if I don't take the time to sleep now, when will I ever sleep again?

And I'm not even all that there yet. There's still a couple of weeks for this to get even worse. Woe is me!
Technorati Tags: Pregnancy, sleep, Shakespeare, 2nd Pt of Henry IV

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The irony of it all

I want to blog about my brain turning to mush. But the problem is that it's difficult to blog about when my brain's turned to mush.

I had no idea how much my brain had turned to mush till yesterday. I had told myself that I wanted to head down to Maternity Exchange because I wanted more clothes plus who could resist a sale? So, on my way home from work, I popped down to the mall. Before I headed to the shop, I decided that I should satiate my growling tummy first. The choices of fast food was vast, Macs, KFC, Long Johns... I finally settled for Killiney Kopitiam because I wanted eggs. When I was in line, I reached into my bag to pull out my wallet and that was when I realised, I did not bring my wallet. Huge bag, sunglasses, toiletries pouch, emergency medication, notes, water bottle, card holder, NO wallet! WTF???

So, I had to get out of the queue because I literally had no cash on me to pay for anything. I walked round in a daze a little bit trying to figure out how to get cash without begging. I had credit cards but what good were credit cards if most food outlets that sold snacks didn't take plastic. I settled for a coffee place that had pies and where I could get a drink as well. When I whipped out my credit card- thank goodness for the card holder!- the cashier declined it because it wasn't an Amex. Amex??? Who uses Amex these days? Apparently, they only took Amex. Anyway, I struck out again. No food.

And all because I didn't bring my wallet. It's not true that the world has gone plastic. And it is true that pregnant women have mulch for brains. I knew exactly where my wallet was. On the dining table at home. I had looked at it in the morning and told myself I had to put it into my bag and subsequently walked out of the house with the bag sans wallet.

I was telling a friend that my only consolation is that I can sit and watch my belly for hours as it undulates and basically shows that it has a life of its own. My very own built in entertainment unit. The bad thing is, I'll starve and by extension, the offspring will be hungry if I forget my wallet again and me and the offspring, cannot live on, love, laughter and fresh air.

Technorati Tags: Pregnancy, forgetfulness

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Specific instructions

It's been ridiculously hot these days. I'm thinking very wistfully about those Calgary days of -22 degrees where everything was covered in snow. It's impossible to keep my hair down because I get sweaty and it sticks to my neck in the most uncomfortable of ways. So, I have to keep it tied up all the time.

I did also figure that it was time to get my hair cut. If I put it off any longer, I might be too uncomfortable to go out and get it cut. Off I went to my trusty hairdresser of more than ten years. As usual, he asked how I wanted it cut. My instructions were,

1. Cannot cut too much off because I still need to tie it.
2. Don't cut all off because then, yes, it'll be cool now but later when I deliver, it'll be too hot and it'll be at an odd length and I won't be able to tie it up.
3. Don't layer it too much because when it grows out, it'll be out of shape and I won't have time to go back to get it reshaped.

At the end of all that, my hairdresser looks at me very resignedly and raises two fingers separating them ever so slightly and saying "1 inch?" and proceeds to lope off all of that inch. And this is a real 2.5 cm inch, not the fake 1 inch that my sister-in-law uses to con my niece into loping off her mane of hair. He must think all pregnant women are crazy in their demands. Want to cut hair. But cannot cut too much. But then cannot cut too little. Crazy hormonal women!

But at least I'm happy. :)

Technorati Tags: Pregnancy, hot days

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All Rights Revoked

When we weren't expecting yet, we thought naming our offspring would be a breeze. The problem was that once we knew that it was for real and we would be held fully responsible and more importantly, have to pay for therapy, for any psychological damage done to the offspring by virtue of the name conferred upon him or her by us, it became a really daunting task.

To make things worse, Packrat can take apart any name and make the corniest and crudest, schoolyard jokes out of it. So that ruled out a whole bunch of names. And then there were names that ruled themselves out. Like Beverly that meant by the beaver creek. Or Scott which meant from Scotland. Or Doreen which meant bitter. Or Nebuchadnezzer which was just impossible to spell.

So saying that it's been hard is an understatement. Especially with mothers like mine. Today I came up with a brain wave that totally annoyed Packrat. It tickled me so much more because it annoyed the heck out of him. I suggested that since John and Jane Doe were used to identify nameless people, I'm ignoring the fact that they're usually used to name unidentified corspses, we could possibly use the names John Doe Tan and Jane Doe Tan, turning the supposedly common ubiquitous surname into a middle name reminiscent of a female deer.

Of course because of my joke, I've been banned from suggesting any further names for the offspring. After all, if I stop work to take care of the offspring, Packrat is left to pay the bills and them therapy bills don't come cheap.

Technorati Tags: Pregnancy, baby names

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The alien within

There's this picture out there, I've seen it on brochures and stuff, with the footprint of the foetus imprinting on the outside of the belly. It really creeps Packrat and I out although I think him more than me because he's seen Alien. I haven't- so, I'm a big chicken, sue me. :)

Anyway, we were told that one would see the odd poke here and there but nothing as clear as a foot. So, everytime I see movement on the surface, I want to look at the belly and see what I can actually see. I spent a better part of today staring at my belly. The offspring seems to be moving a great deal near the surface today and not only does it cause me to twitch and squirm, I can see the reverberations on my t-shirt. And if I actually stared at my belly, I see the skin undulating. It's a very strange sight to behold. It's slightly reminiscent of all those B grade movies where some worm/snake/alien gets ingested by a person and you see it move just under the skin. Yup, I got myself one of those too.

A friend commented that her baby within poked outwards so hard, her elder son who was standing in front of her belly got poked in the head. The elder son, in order to retaliate stared down the belly and when it jibed outward again, he gave it a big thwack. I was amused but I'm sure my friend wasn't.

Apparently, this is what I'm going to miss about the pregnancy. All the movement that's happening. I'm not entirely sure but I do know I sure wish I could video it. Unfortunately, I don't have enough patience and phone battery to train on my belly in the hope of catching the undulating belly in action.

Technorati Tags: Pregnancy, movement

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Drink water and hold your breath

When I get hiccups, I drink a lot of water and usually it solves the problem quite quickly. On occasion, I have a bad case of hiccups that cause me to hiccup for so long, me and my tummy muscles get exhausted from it.

I've recently discovered the offspring hiccup as well. It's funny because the belly goes through this series of regularly spaced vibrations. The difference between that and movement is movement usually stops after a twitch or two. This can go on for a whole minute. It makes Packrat and I giggle a whole lot. At first, Packrat was puzzled that the offspring could actually hiccup. My explanation was that, suspended in fluid all the time, obviously, hiccups were going to occur at some point.

Unfortunately, I can't tell the offspring to drink water to resolve the hiccup problem. I just end up in strange contorted positions as my body tries to compensate and find a comfortable position as the offspring twitch, kick and hiccup through the day.

I must however add, I don't think the offspring was all that big a fan of Spiderman 3. Throughout the entire movie, there was a great amount of protest. How did I know it was protest? It wasn't fluid and languid movement, the movement was sharp, jabs all over the place. Perhaps it also had to do with the fact that I was sitting still for 3 hours.

Now who said babies were born tabula rasa. The offspring, even at this point has quite a personailty already and I swear, it's got nothing to do with what I say to the belly.

Technorati Tags: Pregnancy, hiccups, kicking

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Bump circa 30 weeks

Update on the bump. It's looking bigger and bigger. Everyone is commenting that I look full term. And I will attest to the great amount of discomfort I'm beginning to feel on an everyday basis.



Technorati Tags: Pregnancy, pregnant belly

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Baby shower

Some wonderful friends of mine threw me a baby shower earlier in the week. It's always great fun to have a gathering of girls with no men around. The husbands gamely disappeared leaving us to our own devices. Thanks to Tym, we had baby shower themed cookies that we could decorate. Unfortunately, it only served to prove why we weren't artists or in the baking industries. Most of our cookies, whether it was the rattle shaped, the pram shaped or the bottle shaped resulted in a royal mess of icing, sprinkles and whatever other toppings we so artistically put atop it. At the end of it, there was a sugar induced haze and high from our art experience.




Then there was the opening of gifts. Fun stuff. Toys for the offspring. No boring stuff. My friends had balked at the idea of getting me necessary items like milk bottles and diapers even though I was advised that they were the most practical. I'll save that for the parentals or the office when staff welfare is cracking its head as to what to send over in the hamper.


The unexpected outcome of the baby shower however was a mini meltdown on my part when I got home. I think it had to do with the fact that I was beginning to feel slightly more immobile and this was the last bit of fun stuff I could do before the offspring arrived. And that thought sent me into a depressing tizzy. All the unreasonable feelings of being alone in this big adventure and the insecurity of what the future held just hit me like a brick wall reducing me into a big soppy puddle of tears. Packrat had little idea what to do because this came right out of left field and he just let me cry and rant about how perhaps this adventure had been a misguided decision and how I may end up rejecting the offspring.

Most of it is unwarranted but I guess there is a growing element of fear and uncertainty about what is to come. It was a little bit like that right at the beginning but I think that was coping more with a sense of disbelief and physical discomfort. The second trimester was great because it started getting exciting and everything was different, the way my body was, the movements I was beginning to feel etc. Now, I'm faced with the reality that it isn't going to be all that much longer. That my life will be turned upside down and there'll be all these things I will have to contend with- breast feeding, screaming offspring, bathing, diaper changes, great amounts of parental interference, saggy flappy skin, stitches of one kind or another, my relationship with Packrat changing, the perpetual lack of money etc. The gestational period is coming to an end and with that, real changes that we've only talked about in theory till this point. I know I'll survive and I'll cope, but with everything else, the fear of the unknown is always scarier than the actual experience.

But then again, that's the rational me talking. For now, the irrational me isn't getting as much air time or rather, she's preoccupied with other things and leaving the rational me to sort out what needs to be sorted out at this point. I'm trying my best to keep her under wraps. I guess not putting her on a sugar high with its corresponding plunging mind altering withdrawal would be a good place to start.

Technorati Tags: Pregnancy, baby shower

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Got Milk?

I've always hated milk. I loathe the smell, the taste and how it makes my tummy feel everytime I accidentally ingest it. I knew it was going to be a problem once I got pregnant because it was a rich source of calcium which is needed to build strong bones- the offspring, not mine. Well, mine in the long run as well because if I don't take enough calcium, the offspring will sap mine and I will be left with brittle bones that could lead to osteoporosis when I get older.

But even this wasn't reason enough for me to start drinking real milk. I was told to drink one of those pregnancy milk formulas but I was told that was even more foul tasting than milk milk. But I did feel guilty about it. So my compensation was chocolate milk, cheese, yoghurt and calcium supplements.

I didn't realise how seriously I was taking the compensating for milk thing till this morning. I have a container that holds my cheese slices in the fridge. I think it holds about 40 slices of cheese. Every morning, I take a slice or so out for a sandwich. This morning, I looked in and realised that there was only 1 slice left! I showed it to Packrat and his response was "doesn't that box hold a whole lot of cheese?" And he doesn't eat the stuff because it's low fat stuff. Mentally, I calculated the last time I bought cheese and it really wasn't all that long ago. So, I'm going through the stuff faster than I thought I was.

My consolation, at least I know the offspring will have strong bones. Hopefully the offspring does not inherit my aversion to milk because then, that'll be problematic.

Technorati Tags: Pregnancy, calcium

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Fast forward

I haven't been all that conscientious about photographing my growing belly. I think I'm more preoccupied with the increasing discomfort I feel. Anyway, I was directed to this video and thought it hilarious.

If I had seen this a year or so ago, I'd mentally freak out and swear that I would never put my body through that. But strangely enough, I consented although I have occasional moments when I look at myself and go "I'll never be thin again!" Looking at myself now, it seems like an impossible task.

Technorati Tags: Pregnancy, growing belly

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