Like A Glove

Although I have made an effort to eat healthfully during my pregnancy and to not go overboard on treats, I have enjoyed the license being pregnant has give me to indulge sometimes without shame or guilt.  I actually find that seeing a pregnant lady enjoying an ice cream cone or a cupcake brings a big smile to most people's faces - and it sure make me happy.  However, it doesn't feel quite as good when you sit down to tuck into some pizza and this is how you fit into the booth:

Ensconced

Only while pregnant would it be acceptable to receive, and then actually consider, a promotional email from a clothing company offering a BOGO on all velour items.

Deep Pre-Natal Thoughts

When people tell me I have "the pregnant glow," is it wrong to not tell them that it's actually just really good bronzer?

Bump It

I went to a pre-natal yoga class a little while ago, and one of the first things they do is have everyone go around and say how far along they are in their pregnancy.  As soon as I walked in I started trying to figure this out for myself. 

I concluded that I was easily the most pregnant person in the room and felt a sort of protective affection for these newbies, already planning how after class I'd answer their pregnancy questions in a manner that was authoritative without being patronizing.

I scanned the room again, making my guess about each one.  I was 16 weeks, so I was trying to compare their bellies to mine. 

The woman closest to me was very thin but had a noticeable bump so I thought she might be closest to me, maybe 15 or 16 weeks. 

Across the room was one who looked like she was still in the stage where she wouldn't have told anyone and co-workers would be wondering if she'd just gotten fat - I called it 11 weeks.

I had to full turn my head to look at the last woman in class because she was in a headstand against the wall.  Clearly an experienced yogi in great shape.  She looked quite the opposite of pregnant, I think her stomach curved in.  I concluded she'd either just found out the day before that she was pregnant or had come to the wrong class but decided to stick it out since she'd already fed the meter.

The class began and I went first, announcing my name and my 16 weeks along status with pride. 

After me was the one who was still in the "did she gain weight or is she pregnant?" stage.  "My name is Wendy and I'm 12 weeks," she announced.  Yes!  Pretty much nailed it.  I started thinking about how I'd tell her how great the second trimester is.

Next was the thin woman with the small bump who I'd guessed was in line with me.  "I'm Lisa and I am 22 weeks along."  Wamp wah, well good for her, maybe she could tell me a thing or two.

Finally, the fitness model came out of her inversion and looked up, "I'm Nicole and I'm 16 weeks."  I suddenly felt less proud of my little belly, but I hadn't been able to suck it in for weeks. 

I went through the class telling myself that everyone is different and that she probably wished she looked at least a little pregnant.  But I didn't stick around long enough at the end to see if there was any bump chat.  I rolled up my mat and towel and took my baby home.

Tiny Thief

There are so many old wives' tales that are supposed to predict or indicate whether you're having a boy or a girl.  One that I can remember hearing since I was a little kid was that girls "steal your beauty."

I guess that's supposed to mean that you get sicker and just generally more haggard looking if you're having a girl.  But then I think about one of the first conversations I had with my doctor after I found out I was pregnant.  It went something like this:


"Can I continue highlighting my hair?"

"Not for the first 20 weeks."

"Can I use anything to treat acne if I break out?"

"Nope."

"Can I get a spay tan?"

"I wouldn't recommend it, and it won't stick anyway because of the hormones."

"Can I use allergy medicine or eye drops when my eyes and nose get itchy, red and runny?"

"Nah."

"Can I take or use anything to treat a cold sore?"

"No."

Clearly it's no old wives' tale; girl or boy, my beauty was stolen from that day forward.

Name Game

John and I were brainstorming baby names the other night, primarily middle names, as we have ideas for first names.

"Why don't we look at BabyCenter?" I suggested.  "They have a whole directory of hundreds of names."

"Middle names?" he asked.

After we cleared it up that middle names are just names that you happen to put in the middle of a full name, we started looking. BabyCenter made some good points about things to consider, like whether a potential nickname could end up making an awkward combination with your last name, or unfortunate initials.

We actually plan to keep our name ideas to ourselves, especially since we aren't even finding out what we're having- but based on our last name, I can tell you what we will not be naming our child.

We definitely couldn't name a girl:

Grace Ann Gogarty
or  
Priscilla Irene Gogarty. 


William Ian Gogarty wouldn't really be nice, nor would Brett Ishmael Gogarty

And we absolutely could not name a son Frank Andrew Gogarty.

Everything else is pretty much up for grabs.

Headshot

I don't know if it's weird or normal that I look at these fuzzy, grainy, blurry ultrasound pictures and come away relatively certain that I've seen that my baby has a cute face. At least in profile, which is half the battle.