Well it’s 2010. I have this feeling that I should be more excited about it, but honestly I am very blase. I’d love to say “2010 is going to be a great year!” but, well, we just don’t know that, do we. We said that about 2008, and that turned out to be the worst year of my life. So. I’ll still to retrospectively classifying years and just hope for the best to come.

I am nesting. Not cleaning, no no no; I am obsessively sorting through baby clothes. Nevermind that I’m not even 20 weeks yet and I am sure that people will give me hordes of pink girly clothes, I have this need to sort through what I have right now. As soon as we found out this was a girl I took all the truly BOY clothes back down to the basement, stored away for next time – I kept out all the neutrals, and even some blue boy clothes that I love too much to not let her wear at least once. Today I proudly spread out what I have and realized… it’s not very much. Umm. How was I going to clothe a newborn baby with this? Obviously I had planned to go shopping to fill in the gaps before Devin came – something I never ended up doing.

I am also realizing why I was so happy to be having a boy when I was pregnant with Devin: most of the girl clothes scare me. I do not do bows or frilly butts or poofy dresses. I do not do “princess” or themes. I do happen to like the color pink, which I think is the one saving grace here. I just have very specific tastes.

I am buying a couple of pink diaper covers and then I am all set with those. I still need to buy a couple of bottles and a manual breastpump (though I don’t intend to start pumping until a little later, it’s always good to have it on hand, just in case). I never did get around to buying a baby bathtub, we need one of those. I’ll buy a couple more sheets for the crib and cosleeper. The rest… well, the rest is all just gravy, now isn’t it. If we get a bouncer, swing, toys, books, photo frames… all to the good, but they’re not really necessary. Which leaves me kind of adrift, really. What do I do with my time if I have no shopping to do? I think I hear my bank account sighing in relief.

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It is damn cold, especially in our basement which hasn’t had the fireplace installed yet. Alas, that is where the xbox lives, so I suffer through it with the little spaceheater we keep between our feet when playing and our old comforter thrown on top of me. (We’re very dedicated gamers, you know. Teeth chattering, fingers cramping, haven’t eaten for hours, but I have to finish this dungeon!!) It makes me wish I was smart enough to buy more hot chocolate when I went shopping, since apparently I am now able to drink it without throwing it all up. The wind is literally howling outside, shaking the windows and blowing the snow across our yard. I have absolutely NO desire to leave the house at all.

Baby girl has taken my laziness as a green light to throw a party in there. She’s been very active all weekend, even kicking last night after Den came to bed, when his hand was on my belly. Feels like she’s moved around and is facing up again, instead of down really low, connecting with my cervix quite frequently (ow, say!). I enjoy it while I can, as soon enough she will flip around again and I will have another few days of quiet, infrequent little bumps.

Well I had better go check on my husband and makes sure he eats something. Maybe if I feed him enough he’ll feel guilty and let me play. ;)

My stretches of silence have been due to a gaming addiction. I’m having way too much fun playing the mage and squishing things (or, rather, blasting them with fireballs). Ahhh, so relaxing. But sadly 6 hours can go by really quickly when you’re engrossed in a game (and the hubby is kind enough to watch sports upstairs and leave you to while away the time).

Yesterday morning was my 20 week appointment. How crazy is that? I wasn’t nervous this time, because baby was kicking me while I sat in the waiting room.

Blood pressure was normal, but weigh-in was less than they’d like to see – I think only a 1 lb gain over the past 4 weeks, which makes it 6lbs total. I spoke to the nutritionist, just looking for some ideas on small, simple, protein foods. I’ve been struggling, especially with feeling sick and cutting out dairy again – I’m pretty sure that’s why I’ve gained little to no weight the past week or two (actually I lost a tiny bit from 19 to 20 weeks). I was encouraged to eat tuna once a week, salmon, eggs, peanut butter, and milk. (I’m just not a big meat eater, especially when pregnant. Chicken is so goddamn boring.) The midwife wasn’t concerned about my weight, but I know I need to continue gaining at a nice steady rate for the baby’s health, so I just want to make sure I eat right.

The midwife – who knows and remembers my history – ran through some questions about birth, pediatrician (what? agghh), feeding plans. And then she looked up and said to me, “I know this is a stupid question, but I have to ask it. Are you planning on birth control after the baby is born?” And then we both just laughed.

She did consult with the MFM doctor and went over his plan for me, which they will follow – it is the same as before. Growth ultrasounds every 4 weeks from here on out, and starting at 34 weeks weekly checks with bio-physical profiles and non-stress tests (alternating weeks). Also starting at 28 weeks they want me to do daily kick counts – which I was planning on doing anyways but I found it interesting that the doctors mentioned it. I’m not sure if I’m pleased that they brought it up, or annoyed that no one mentioned them to me when I was pregnant with Devin… a little of both, probably.

I told her how active this little girl is, how she has her active periods already, how I can feel quite a bit though I wasn’t expecting to yet. She flipped through my ultrasound report from last week, confirmed that everything looks good, absolutely nothing of note – and she confirmed that the heart is fine, and that I am probably correct in my suspicion that they took a while with the heart because the baby wouldn’t let them get one particular picture that they wanted. This appointment she measured my fundal height (right where it should be, as I already know – my uterus is to my belly button), and then of course checked the heartrate with the doppler. Nice and loud and strong, then baby started moving away from it, hehe.

Then she told the receptionist to book my ultrasound appointments for the next several months. She suggested I book the ultrasound and midwife appointment together so I don’t have to go back and forth to the hospital all the time and can get them both taken care of at once. At first this sounded like a good idea, but in order to do that I had to move my appointment day to monday instead of tuesday due to my work schedule (I can do a short morning appointment, but if I don’t get there until noon I’ll be bogged down until 9pm) – mondays are far far more flexible for me, they’re my “free” day. Except the midwife that I love doesn’t work mondays. So now I have these appointments booked through April with other midwives and I’m starting to think I shouldn’t have done that. I know the other ones could be just as fine, but I found someone whom I’m comfortable with, do I really want to mess with that?

An interesting thing I noticed: the midwife doesn’t just hand me the booking instructions and send me to the front desk – she takes the paperwork to the receptionist herself, and then she stands there with me, chit-chatting, while my appointment is being booked… which turned out to be a really good thing. Normally the process is short, a quick hi-bye, but yesterday it took a while to get all those different appointments booked in together. It’s a high counter so I was standing there just letting the receptionist type in the computer, waiting for my printout of appointment dates and times, when I got dizzy. Now I do get those dizzy spells once in a while, usually I just stand still and blink a few times and I’m fine. But this time it didn’t pass. I said, “I’m feeling really dizzy…” as my vision greyed out. They sat me down in the chair behind me; still I couldn’t see and my head was throbbing. I was also wicked hot, just pulsing heat – I got out of my coat and scarf and someone ran to get a cold cloth for my forehead and neck. Slowly everything leveled out again. The midwife came back in with crackers, peanut butter and a cup of juice. After that I felt right as rain – and just a little bit foolish, especially considering it happened because I hadn’t eaten breakfast yet. I hate making a scene and I felt like some damsel in distress… but I guess there are times when you just have no choice in the matter and you have to let people help you out a little.

And that was my exciting day. Or at least the exciting baby part of my day – the work part was not so exciting.

Happy half-way mark to me! The second trimester is certainly going by faster than the first.

This is my view from up here, circa 20 weeks.

And these are my nails. I didn’t want to cut them until I got a picture. LOL My natural nails, with just a clearcoat on. I’m very sad to cut them, but they are impeding my typing and that’s just no good.

My mom has a baby memory book filled out for both me and my brother. I can picture clearly in my head what they look like, my mom’s neat printing filling the pages with names, dates, notes. Mine has a lock of hair in an envelope and hospital bracelet in it. It also has milestones written on plain notepaper torn from a small notepad. I love those books. Even at the age of 27, every time I visit my parents’ I feel a draw to pull them out again. There is just something special and sacred about the memories contained within.

When I got pregnant this time I looked online for memory books and quickly found one for a little girl that I liked. I bookmarked it and filed it away for later, and then didn’t think much about it. I still debated about spending money on such a silly thing.

A few days after we found out this is a girl I am carrying I ended up looking at all the things I had bookmarked – removing the ones for boys and re-evaluating the ones for girls. I found myself looking at the memory book I had picked out and realizing that I really do like it. I went to order it and… it was out of stock. Searched online… out of stock elsewhere. And suddenly I realized I needed this memory book – this particular memory book. I had picked it out for her, I had gone through pages and pages of options, and I wanted this very book. For days I searched, aided by friends. I found an australian store that still had some in stock – more expensive, of course. But I couldn’t let it go. Just as I had fired off a message to an Australian friend asking if he could help me procure one of these books I happened to check my original bookmark and there it was, back in stock. I ordered it immediately.

I feel obscenely happy about having ordered this silly little book. I show friends and say, “Look what I bought!” and they kind of give me that look, the look that says dude, that’s interesting but why are you so giddy about it?

But in my mind I can see my daughter one day carefully opening up the cover and reminiscing over the memories held within, just like I do with my own.

During the day when I feel a little kick I will frequently say, “Oh! She’s awake!” What I really mean – but don’t say – is, “Oh good, she’s still alive!” (I did that once and it garnered a very strange look from a co-worker.)

No, I never did end up getting a doppler. I have not ruled it out, if I feel I need one, but so far her little kicks during the day have been enough to keep me calm and reassured. If I hadn’t started feeling movement when I did I probably would have needed the extra help. I take it day by day, and so far this little one is very good at keeping mommy informed.

I think about how hard this must be on the other expectant parent – the one not carrying the baby, not feeling the kicks and wiggles and rolls. It is such a huge amount of trust placed in me, the carrier of this baby. He asks me how I am feeling, what the baby is doing. I do my best to tell him, I always have – and I think he appreciates how in-tune I am with my body. But still, it is just me telling him, me feeling movement, me sleeping peacefully with this tiny being cradled inside. It is this closeness, this familiarity with the baby and constant check-ins that keeps me sane. How does he get through?

I can now see little kicks make my belly jump – at least once in a while, if she’s kicking the right spot, at the right time. But I haven’t even called Den over to look, and not just because it’s so infrequent you could stare for 15 minutes (going slightly cross-eyed) and not see anything. I can see my pulse on my belly, it’s the weirdest thing; it twitches along with my heartbeat. I can tell which is which, I can feel that beat inside me and easily pick out the baby’s kicks from the rhythm. But the husband? Not so much. Between that pulse and my breathing it is hard enough for him to feel a kick (which has the same we-could-be-here-a-while wait).

It feels less strange now that I feel her moving around – I think it weirded me out a lot more to know that there was this living, moving creature inside me but I couldn’t see or feel it at all. She is starting to get a personality to me now. As my belly is growing into its skin once again, so am I mentally growing into my pregnant self again. I find myself settling comfortably here, with fondness. I look in the mirror more now. I have found myself again. I am whole again – at least physically.

I am the keeper of this special little secret. It is through me that she experiences the world – and through me that the world experiences her.

Sometimes my brain just goes on autopilot. Today’s movement from baby girl has been much quieter than yesterday and the past few days, so of course half of my brain is fretting. But then the other half is like, Dude, she’s kicking you RIGHT NOW. She’s fine. She’s just down lower. And suddenly I feel kind of foolish because, umm yeah, she’s definitely kicking, and she’s definitely kicking down low. So no belly dancing tonight, she’s too low for that. Disappointment, yes – I do love to watch how strong she’s getting. But, umm, she’s still very much alive in there.

I do have to say that she is normally only active when I am sitting or laying and relaxing. Which means that if I’m out and about, working late, at meetings, out to dinner or whatever, I usually don’t feel much from her. I know this is normal. And yet there is something in me that just starts to get really antsy and I have to go sit or lay down somewhere until feel a kick. At least now she is getting more consistent, and stronger so that I can feel her more often. A few weeks ago I used to just sit and wait, feeling snappish when people (even the hubby) interrupted me for whatever reason. I just wanted to sink into myself, motionless, until I got a little flutter as an answer back. Then I could get up and rejoin the world.

I am very thankful this is an active baby. Well, until she kicks my bladder. Then I am thankful… and wishing she had worse aim.

Time is moving quickly – faster than I anticipated. My mental calendar starts and ends with the New Year, so when January hits suddenly everything that was “next year” seems a whole hell of a lot closer. Like Devin’s birthday. Less than 2 months until his second birthday, and I’m not exactly sure how that happened. Oh I can look back at all the treatments we’ve gone through, and I’ve gone through plenty enough to fill up 2 full years, but still. 2 years? It’s a little mind-boggling. I’m two years older, having my second baby. And I still have some anger issues about the fact that there are 2 years in between…

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My life has revolved around food lately. I’ve been spending what seems to me to be an atrocious amount on groceries, to make sure I have the right stuff at hand to keep me well fed with protein-rich foods. Unfortunately I am still dealing with a little bit of nausea. I really do mean “a little bit” – but it’s enough to sometimes make eating not so enticing. Saturday afternoon I had a hot dog and milkshake (with protein powder) for a late lunch, which gave me indigestion the rest of the day. I ended up trying to force down some yogurt before bed. I’m constantly pulling up that mental list of “foods that have a lot of protein” and then trying to figure out what I can do with that. (Friday evening we made pasta with ground turkey in the sauce. It quickly became apparent that I still dislike meat sauce on my pasta.)

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not trying to stuff myself. I’m still trying to stay away from empty calories and other junk (with some exceptions, of course). But I just find I’m not hungry very much. I go from starving to full in a very short span of time – and the fullness lasts for hours. So I just keep trying to snack. My favorite go-tos are crackers and cheese, yogurt, apple or celery with peanut butter.

I am gaining weight, just… slowly. Oh well. Other than making sure I eat, and eat the right things, there’s not much more I’m going to do about it. Maybe my body just doesn’t like to gain too much. At least my ass isn’t expanding too quickly. Yet.

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Baby girl continues to be active, though of course some days are quieter than others. I am enjoying every bit that I can, but still when I get up in the middle of the night to stumble into the bathroom I wonder in my head, Are you alive in there?

So much of this journey revolves around faith. No, not faith in a higher being – while some have that, I do not – but rather faith in my own body, and faith in The Way Things Work. The thing is, most normal, healthy, already-passed-scary-milestones babies in utero don’t just randomly die. If they did there would be a lot more basketcases in this world and I’d have to seriously re-think this whole gestating a baby thing. So I put my faith in the fact that the odds are very very good that this is going to have a happy ending and continue about my day even when I don’t feel a kick for an hour, or two or three. I function on the assumption that everything is fine, unless I get some sign that it’s not.

I am obsessed with baby clothes. I don’t really know why; I wasn’t obsessed with clothes at all when I was pregnant with Devin. But then again that time my attention was taken up with baby gear and cloth diapers – now those are all purchased, and all I have left are… clothes. At least I am focused simply on getting enough basics: onesies, footed sleepers, gowns. I know people will probably bestow us with all manner of cute girlie clothes, but for right now I’m always on the lookout in stores for simple, sweet-looking, and cheap sets of onesies. I laugh at the items that are like $30. Seriously? I don’t spend that on my own clothes.

Thankfully I have calmed down a lot about the whole omg-girls-clothes-are-terrible, since I have been able to find a few girl things that I actually like. It’s still a major pain, but at least I know there are things out there for my little girl. I like understated. Pastel. Simple. But yes… at least I like pink.

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This little girl continues to be active and have a developing personality.

She has made it abundantly clear that she doesn’t like some of my pants. Now they are a little tight, I admit, but they don’t bother me, for the most part they’re actually quite comfortable. But they bother her. She spends all day kicking the waistband. It is invading her personal space, and I am to move it, immediately. She doesn’t like when I slouch forward, either. Or when I sleep comfortably snugged up to my body pillow, tucked in tight against my belly. All I get is *pop!* *pop!* *pop!*. It’s like she spends the entire duration throwing a little hissy fit about it. Now I can’t really blame her about the personal space issue – she gets that from me – but dude, mommy’s doing the best she can here. I can only shudder to think how irritated she’s going to be when my uterus reaches my ribs. (And I’ll admit it: sometimes I wear those pants just to get her going. Teehee.)

Thankfully she has let daddy feel her kicks a few times now. She does still usually go quiet, but she’s staying active for longer so he can “catch” her when I call him over – as long as I don’t move or disturb her. He gets so happy every time I mention that she’s kicking me.

My body also has some of its own rules, like not sitting in one position for too long. My lower back has been compressing again – my chiropractor has started pressing down on my sacrum to stretch it out and oh. my. god. it is the best feeling ever. I walk out of there feeling fantastic. Things are definitely loosening up some, as when I curve my back and suck in my butt – even if I’m not doing it intentionally, just reaching for something – I can feel things go pop pop in my lower back.

My feet, oh my poor feet. I’m back to the heating pack between my feet, because when they get cold – which they do often, it’s the middle of winter and our floors are cold – they just start cramping up. Right now it tends to get really painful right up through my arch, which is one of the weirdest places to get a foot cramp – I’m used to toes, or calves. So it’s a soak in hot water and then a heat pack, and stretching my foot out this way and that, before I can lay down without it cramping up again.

My extremities are starting that numbness thing again. Even something simple like leaning against my arm in a chair will make my whole arm fall asleep. I’m starting to have to be more careful about how I lean or lay – especially when I’m trying to sleep. Between my feet cramping and my hands going numb I really have to work at making sure I’m laying in just the right position! (And then the baby starts kicking me because SHE doesn’t like how I’m laying, and I tell her TOUGH!)

Foods are strange – I get wicked hungry, but then get full really quickly and stay full for a long time. I’m just not wanting a large quantity of food… small meals are my thing. I try to keep nuts in my desk to snack on during the day. Sadly I’m going to have to give up apples, because they just give me indigestion and sometimes heartburn. I have been craving milk in a HUGE way ever since I gave myself “permission” to drink more again – since I got over my cold/sinus thing. I just can’t get enough. I think I’ve been going through a half gallon a day, by myself. There are some days when I just can’t stop thinking about drinking some milk, and I’ll rush home from work and just chug a huge glass. So, so good. My other new (rediscovered?) favorite thing is combining potato chips with yogurt. My favorite is baked lays. I use the yogurt like a dip. Yum! I just love the combo of sweet and salty, I think that’s what’s doing it for me right now. Peanut butter on celery is another favorite combo right now. It’s funny – once I start adding in the cheese, yogurt, milk, nuts and peanut butter… I am doing great in terms of eating protein. I have also discovered that those Carnation Instant Breakfast things are really good too. Especially good for a girl like me, who likes to roll out of bed 30 minutes before I need to be out the door.

Which is only possible because I have given up on blowdrying my hair. One thing that is happening this pregnancy is that my hair is getting curlier… and I think dryer. The same blowdry technique that used to give me a cute little curled-under hairdo before… now makes me look like I walked through a windtunnel and halfassedly attempted to straighten my hair. It’s curly here, straight and strawlike over there, my banks are sticking out funny… oh yeah, it’s fun. So I think next time I see my hair stylist I’m just going to tell her to go with the curl and give me something fabulous that works with it, rather than against it. I just don’t have the time or energy to fight with my hair every damn morning. I much prefer to sleep.

But hey, at least my skin is nice and clear. It isn’t when I’m not pregnant, even at 27…. so hey, I’ll take what I get.

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I had a pregnancy-hormone-amplified meltdown the other day. Yes, about politics. As any astute (or even really non-astute – it’s not like it’s a secret) person will note, I am an extremely liberal person, politically speaking. I live in MA. I did not have a good week. Which is to be expected, but it caught me off-guard that I was so upset.

The thing is, I’m a Canadian transplanted to the US. (No, I can’t vote yet. I am now eligible for to become a naturalized citizen, and I plan to get my citizenship before the next big election, but right now I don’t feel like dealing with that paperwork processing when I have a baby on the way.) I’m realizing more and more that this affects me more than I might have thought previously. While I sat there feeling upset, more than frustrated I felt alone, unwelcome. It’s not just that I’m unhappy that things don’t happen the way I want them to. It’s more that I feel deeply rejected. In the comments I hear around me, the talk of evil socialism and scary liberals. Canadians are all naturally a more liberal than your average American, and I find that there is not nearly as polarized, either. It’s this deep chasm in the US that upsets me so much… this constant bickering, this great divide. How can one government ever really fulfill the needs of such dichotomous ideals? All I can see is a lifetime of this warring, distrust, tug-and-pull between the sides. In contrast Canadian politics seems so much more… balanced. Granted Canadians all maintain a wary, resigned distrust of politicians in general, but in that way people shrug and admit that the groups all have pros and cons and they’ll all manage to fuck it up somehow. It gives me a great sense of the grass is greener on the other side – something I need to try to keep perspective on.

As passionate and opinionated as I can be, I am far too sensitive, too soft-hearted, to have anything to do with politics. I will always support my causes and speak out when I feel I need to, but I know for my own good I just need to leave politics to those who can handle it. Now that I am pregnant (and extra emotional) I have turned it all off – I do not read about it, I do not even let Den watch commentary on a TV near me. It just needlessly gets me worked up. And why? I can’t do anything about it, not right now. This world, this country, spins on no matter how upset I get about it. Now is the time to focus on myself, my baby, my family, and leave the rest for later. So I must say that it really pisses me off when some asshole of a stranger makes a comment – cloaked as “just chit-chatting” – when I have done absolutely nothing to invite such. Just because I don’t want to talk about it doesn’t mean I don’t care. In fact it means I probably care far too much.

Fear is like a heartbeat in the dark. It’s always there, but sometimes you feel it more than others. Usually you can’t hear it. But once in a while, in the pause, there it is again, quietly reminding you. My natural level of anxiety doesn’t help. I’ll admit, some nights I forget to take my anti-depressant. It doesn’t send me into a huge meltdown the next day or anything, but I can definitely tell that I’m a little bit more jumpy than usual, a little bit more anxious.

I’ve started getting – or started feeling – Braxton-Hicks contractions. I don’t recall getting them so early with Devin, but then this is my second pregnancy. But it still startled me the first time I felt one, last week. I knew immediately what I was feeling, that tightening in my belly, and my hands flew down to confirm that my uterus was indeed hard. I waited for it to go away before letting out a breath. No more happened that night, so I’ve come to expect the one contraction a day – usually in the evening, when I’m relaxing. It’s just my body doing its job.

But then the last two days I’ve noticed hard spots. It confuses me, because BH contractions are the full belly, all over. So it puzzles me when I feel a hard, very firm area, but the other side is soft and giving. Just now it happened again, and I’m starting to think what I’m feeling is a butt or a head, pressing outwards. I always forget how big she must be. I keep thinking she is still small, but the way she moves and the space she fills belies that.

As active as this baby is, there are still plenty of days when her movements are quieter and spaced further apart. Usually I can tell when it’s going to be one of those days when the kicks I feel are down low, meaning she’s probably facing down instead of out. Today was one of those days. All kicks I felt were down low and to the left, and sometimes I wouldn’t feel kicks at all, just pressure against my cervix (ouch – thankfully that didn’t happen for very long). But I also realize that I am very lucky to feel as much as I do, especially this early with the placenta where it is. I’m still puzzled by it, to be honest…. but very thankful!

Sometimes people say to me, “You need to just not worry. You need to just enjoy this.” And I look at them a bit puzzled. What choice do I have in the matter? I am either worried or I am not, and sometimes it feels like I am just along for the ride, enjoying the good days and riding out the bad. But I am always fully present, and how many others can say that? As much as I want this time to fly by, to just get me to the end with a live baby in the hospital, I cannot willfully ignore what I have right now. As much as I am attuned to every little pain and lack of movement, so too am I attuned to every little wiggle and poke that she gives me. I notice all the little things that too often slide under the radar of a busy working woman. Yes, my life does in many ways revolve around this pregnancy. Yes, I do sit in my chair with my hands on my belly, lost inside my head, inside my body, feeling and appreciating her. When I bend over and say, “Ooch, she kicked my cervix!” they probably assume it is with irritation, but in reality it is gleeful, revelling in the discomfort and the sheer fact that it happens at all.

I have finally uploaded the belly pics from the last 3 weeks. Rejoice!

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Today while cleaning I found a little box of magnet words – you know the type you can arrange in phrases and stick on your fridge. So now I have some on my fridge.