Sunday, August 26, 2012

Fighting Anxiety

I spent yesterday mostly in bed or on the couch laying down. I plan on pretty much doing the same thing today. I've been feeling anxious...again. I've been having sharp shooting pains in my cervix and surrounding areas. They only last a moment and then are gone, but they make me incredibly nervous. The baby is kicking me all the time, really low, so I'm assuming that he's laying really low. Maybe that's why I'm hurting below. But, then I've been having Braxton Hicks that take my breath away. Not frequent, but several during the day. I even had one when I bent down and picked up my 8 pound dog. Then I had a "my belly looks smaller moment" last night...yet again. So, like always I measured my belly. And unlike's smaller. Yes! It was 35 inches, and now it's 34.5 inches. Great, now I just have more reasons to believe that something is going wrong and that my cervix is not holding my little baby boy in. Dr Google says that your belly becomes smaller when your baby drops into position. Well, that shouldn't be happening for at least another 15 weeks. I have a doctor's appointment on Wednesday, and if I don't crack and call on Monday, I'm going to have a long list of questions/anxieties to discuss with the PA. I haven't seen her before, so I hope she'll be nice enough to listen and talk to me about my concerns. Why can't I accept that my body is doing something normal. I have to be convinced that something is going wrong, or will go wrong.

Wednesday, August 15, 2012

I Love My Mommies

Today I was looking around at onesies and jumpers online. I kept finding shirts about "my mom" "my dad" "my aunt" "my grandma". I always feel a little sad when I see the cute daddy onesies because in essence it's just talking about the other very significant parent who didn't carry the baby for nine months, or the other parent in general since families are made in SO many ways. That person is the Brain and she's not a daddy. I want to be able to honor her like other parents who put their children in these types of clothes. We've had discussions before about father's day and how she wants to celebrate fathers day because she feels like a father. I'm uncomfortable with this idea for more than just the blaring fact that she doesn't have a penis (because that's not the only thing that makes a man). She does not identify as a man, she uses the women's restroom, she's my wife and therefore should be proud to be a mother. Back to the onesies. So eventually I searched for "I Love My Mommies" onesies and found some cute ones. When I scrolled down google looking for different sites that carry them, I came across a forum where a lady was saying she would never put such a statement on her baby and therefore subject her baby to ridicule. In my personal opinion, if our child is to be ridiculed for having two moms, it will happen with or without a onesie because anyone with their eyes open will see that we're two women and a baby. It's as much a statement of pride of parenthood as putting on a "I love my mommy and daddy" onesie. But, there were people who had a problem with it.

What do you think? Am I selfish if I put such a onesie on our baby?

Wednesday, August 8, 2012

20 Weeks

We've made it half way!!!! 20 weeks down, and please G-d, please, another 20 weeks to go. According to my nifty iphone app, our little mister is the size of a banana. I think he's the size of an extra large banana, because he's been measuring a week ahead consistently. The occasional popcorn "is that gas or the baby" feelings went away and were replaced by internal thumps, bumps and rolls. Some take me by surprise and I have to stop for a second because I feel as if I might fall down. The Brain asked me how they feel, and I said "you know those balls that glide? That have the clear plastic outside with the oil and another ball on the inside that wobble around as the ball glides forward? It feels like that." I used up my zofran today and had to have it refilled. 20 weeks, not really throwing up, but still having nausea. The spotting is gone! I'm still finding bits of black crinone that have been hiding up my vag for the last 10 weeks. An occasional reminder of those scary times. I've become obsessed with being afraid of incompetent cervix, leaking amniotic fluid and other irrational fears, but only on bad days. In a moment of weakness I invited my mother to the anatomy scan with me this coming Friday. I thought she might enjoy it, and I'm trying to give her every chance to be involved and enthusiastic. Her complete lack of interest and emotional support is driving me crazy. I'm trying to be the bigger adult and continue to reach out to her and provide her with opportunities, but I'm pretty close to throwing my hands in the air and writing her off. That's another post, that I didn't bother writing because to bitch about how my dad said, "oh I wanted a granddaughter" when I told him it was a boy, or how my mom said she'd touched pregnant bellies before and I had to remind her that she had NEVER touched mine just to get a half hearted pat out of her, would just be draining. So back to this anatomy scan...Silly me forgot that my mother knows nothing about my ginormous phoenix tattoo, that will appear even bigger since it's stretching. I'm hoping if I don't say anything and play it off like "what massive tattoo are you referring to?" that it won't turn into a big fight that ends up with my mom not talking to anyone for a couple weeks until she seeks therapy...AGAIN. Have I mentioned that the Brain reads a chapter of Pinocchio to my belly each night? Or how my belly popped out so that even when I'm laying down it's still visible? We're totally giddy these days, and in love with each other and our baby. Despite the fear and worry, it's like the clouds have lifted, giving rise to a bright sun (hot too at 107 these days) and we can smile up at the sky once again. Ok, yep...with that, I'm ending on a cheesy note.