16 Weeks: Amanda is no longer Secret Agent Squirrel

So here I am at 16 weeks along, which is actually only 14 weeks of being pregnant.  (Isn't that weird how pregnancy is timed? It includes the time before you are pregnant, when you were carefree and the Bean was a hopeful twinkle. Bizarre.)  If I were a Bengal tiger, I would be giving birth to wee little tiger cubs right about now.  It's not that I'm ready for the Bean to be a fully formed little person that we have to feed, shelter and clothe quite yet, I just enjoy little factoids like that. 

I'm actually enjoying the pregnancy more now that I've grown accustomed to the fact that Elastic is my friend and I'm not frustrating myself by trying to squeeze my bump into my old jeans or pants anymore.  I do miss having a nice glass of wine some nights, though.  Especially with the recent Hurricane (Tropical Storm) Irene ... an important part of "Hunkering Down" involves adult beverages!  In fact, you can make a game of it: every time a meteorologist is  left outside in heavy wind and rain, take a drink; every time you see Anderson Cooper reporting from Battery Park with nary a sprinkle of rain or a light breeze, take a drink; every time you are overwhelmed with multicolored representations of the storm that play 30-second loops over and over, take a drink.  Had I been drinking, I would have been happily giggling at the storm coverage.  Instead, I was probably a bit irritating to Zac as I kept asking him to alternately flip to CNN so I could stare agog at the coverage or to change the channel to something else, as the coverage was ridiculous in its intensity.  

Irene passed us by, leaving not much more than some downed twigs and puddles in her wake.  We were very lucky.

Last week, I had a client congratulate me on my pregnancy.  I was shocked that she had noticed.  You see, I have been living in a little bubble of delusion where I believe that no one can tell: I wear baggier shirts on top, and at work I wear a loose white doctor's coat.  I was operating under the assumption that I was Secret Agent Squirrel and that my Illusion of Non-Pregnancy was complete.  Oops.  I suppose that from this point on, it will only be come more noticeable as the Bean makes him/herself more prominent...

I'll let you judge for yourselves.  Here are some pics of me posing with an avocado- the rough representation of the Bean at this time.  Afterwards, we ate the avocado.  I felt a little weird, given that moments ago, it had represented our baby ... but it was tasty enough to make me forget my misgivings soon enough.  :)

Avocado-bean!

 And here's the bump:

Little bump

Much love to all!

The Daddy-Zac to be checks in!

Here’s me, making my first official visit to Blogtown in the uber-exclusive enclave of the Embiggening. As the news of our happy, happy, awesome-awesome, kickass-kickass joy is spread, I’m feeling like I should start making contributions (unlike the kitchen, where I’m content to let my ever-loving wife request that I contribute). Otherwise folks may come see what’s going on and think Amanda’s gestating all by her lonesome, like I was off defending our country or some such lofty pursuit. So no excuses. Or at least good ones.

Here it is, nearly a full three (3) months since that groggy surprise of a wake-up call. Ok, I guess the particular method of the wake-up was a surprise, but I HAD asked Amanda to help me get my ass in gear (she’s great for that). And damnit, I shouldn’t have been surprised. It’s not like we hadn’t been trying and wanting, and we deserved it. I guess it was surprise in the form of eustress.

My point of bringing up that groggy morning is that obviously I was awake after that call, but I’m pretty sure it still hasn’t hit me fully just what it is that’s going on here. I mean, I’ve got the rough science down (near as I can tell, it has something to do with proteins and metachlorians). It’s just that, though I’m plenty old enough to be doing this and very nearly adult enough to be doing this, I’m still collecting my grasp on the idea that it really is ME doing this. Me of course being only half of the two-person cabal known as We-ness, soon to be three.

And even as it begins to sink in further, there will be no padding or shielding from the huge spiritual and emotional onslaught that will be witnessing this birth and holding my child in my arms... but easy there, Virg (as opposed to Tex), you’re getting way ahead of yourself.

In the meantime, I’m thrilled to share this with all my friends and family. And I stand by the previous sentence, despite my obvious lack of phone skills in spreading the news far and wide. I also feel as if I’m showing enormous restraint by having an opening entry of only this length. But I didn’t want to scare you off. But stay tuned.

Lemons and Elastic Waist-bands: Amanda at 14 weeks

Wow.  We made it to the second trimester - often referred to as the "best time" of pregnancy because there's less fatigue, nausea and weird-food-aversions.  I'll say for the record, I do feel more energetic ... but coffee still tastes pretty bitter and awful to me, no matter how much creamer or sugar I add.  I have tried to rationally discuss with The Bean that the American College of Obstetricians and Gynecologists (ACOG) have stated that moderate caffeine consumption is considered safe in pregnancy. The Bean doesn't seem to give a hoot for facts and figures such as those and has decided that s/he does not like coffee, and therefore, for the next few months, neither do I.

The Bean has begun to expand and I have bid a fond farewell to my waistline. There's a definite "bump" that's appearing and making it terribly difficult for me to fully zip or button any of my pants.  I have discovered the joy of dressing an expanding body: I have discovered the joy of elastic waistbands on my pants. (Because, honestly, how many flowy dresses should one woman own?  And truly, I can't wear that sort of hippie-chic to work - I'd be one bouncing, happy Labrador retriever away from flashing my horrified clients!)

The first shopping trip for pants that would fit (and would continue to do so) was in St. Augustine, with my mom. Before my pregnancy, I think that my mother would have rather faced a pack of ravenous wolves than go shopping with me: we have very different styles and have not had the luck to have really good shopping experiences together in the past.  This time was different.  Mom loved picking out clothes for me to try on -- and I think she was quite amused by the "pretend pregnancy" pillow that you could use to approximate a 39 week pregnancy belly.  It was more square than round and fit awkwardly.  It was hilarious.  I wish I'd taken pictures.  That outing was successful and I left with a few shirts and sweaters (soon it will be cool enough to wear them!) and four pairs of pants, including a pair of black corduroys.  I have a ridiculous love for cords and was thrilled to find some that I could wear this fall and winter.  I must say, I'm quite happy that I am pregnant now, when there are a lot of cute options to choose from in maternity wear, compared to twenty years ago when, according to my Aunt, the options were huge tent-dresses with polka-dots or baggy shirts with giant bows.  It's hard enough dressing a changing body without being made to feel frumpy or clownish!

Enough about stretchy-pants!  I'm sure I'll have more to say on my shrinking wardrobe options as the weeks pass .... In the meantime, here are some pictures that Zac took of me holding a lemon that approximates The Bean:

Lemon-sized Bean

 And here's a side-view of the Bump:

Side-bump!

 And here is a picture of what happens when Zac starts channeling Wolfgang, his uncle who is a photographer, by repeatedly saying to me, "What else can you do?"

Being silly.

 ...and mere seconds later, I dropped our Baby Lemon.  I hope that this does not bode poorly for the future!

The First Post ... in which Amanda brings you up to date

I found out that our family was expanding on Monday, May 30.  Zac was staying upstate with friends after a Phish weekend and had asked me to be his wake up call.  It was 7:30am.  I saw two lines on the test: the control line and a fainter, but definitely there test line. My eyes widened, my heart soared, and I ran to my computer to google what I already knew: any color change was significant.  Still reeling with happy disbelief, I drank a large glass of water and took another test.  Two lines. Wow. It was nearing 8am.  I called Zac.  Blearily, he answered the phone.  Below is a rough approximation of the conversation that followed:

Zac: Hello
Amanda: Hi. Good morning.  Are you awake?
Zac: (Deep breath) Yeah...
Amanda: ARE YOU AWAKE?
Zac: Yeah.
Amanda: I got two lines this morning! A positive test! We did it!
Zac: Are you kidding me?
Amanda: What?! Why would I (insert unladylike word) kid you? About this?!
Zac: Oh.  Wow. Wow.

Later, just so he wouldn’t think the conversation had all been a dream, I sent him a picture of the pregnancy test.  

2 lines!

I was at work until 2pm that day, and I would guess that I looked at that picture of the two lines at least 20 times.  It still didn’t feel real.

I called my parents and Nana as soon as I left work the next day.  I know that some people keep the news to themselves until they know it’s confirmed (sometimes people don’t even tell their families until the 2nd trimester), but I wanted to share some joy.  Nana had recently been admitted to a rehab facility for a fractured pelvis, and both mom & I thought that the news would do her good.  I remember her joy as she said to me, “I’m going to be a great-grandmother! Oh my! A great-grandmother! How wonderful!”  

The next few weeks were a whirlwind of blood tests which confirmed that yes, we were pregnant and that no, I was not previously exposed to Toxoplasma.  Which, given my profession and how long I’ve been in the industry, was a surprise to me.  On Friday, June 17, we got our first look at the Bean on ultrasound.  Mostly, it was a blob hanging out in another blob, but it was really there.  There was something growing inside me.  On Wednesday, June 29, Zac came with me to the next ultrasound and we were both able to see a flutter that was the heartbeat: 130 beats/min - a good, healthy rate.  Estimated DOB: Feb 15, 2012.

Here is a little picture of the Bean from that day:

The blobby-Bean

 
Friday, July 22 we had our next ultrasound appointment.  The Bean had a bit of a growth spurt, and was measuring a little older than before.  New estimated DOB: Feb 12, 2012.  We could see a good, healthy heart-flutter, but were unable to hear it using the doppler.  However, I did see the Bean move his/her little arm around as if s/he were dancing or wiggling about in there.  That was pretty fabulous.  Not only was there something (someone!) growing in there - it was moving around.

The Bean is less blobby

August 3, I went to Lenox Hill for another, fancier ultrasound.  This scan lasted about 30 minutes because the Bean (now about the size of a lime) was not being terribly cooperative and was bouncing and twisting all over the place.  The Bean was starting to look like a little person, rather than a lumpy blob: I could see a little nose on the face and tiny arms and legs that waved around.  I heard a strong, steady heartbeat: it was music to my ears.

Here are some pics from that visit:

The Bean is looking like a little person in there

The Poultry-pose

After that good news, I felt comfortable enough to start taking pictures (and sharing them) of the Embiggening of Amanda.  So, here I am, posing with a lime that represents the ~12 week old Bean:

I look forward to posing with more fruit as the weeks pass, as well as getting more and more comfortable in my elastic-waisted pants.  

Much love,
-a-

The Prelude ... in which we define a few things

1. Embiggen:

Etymology

em- + big + -en. Ad-hoc coinage, attested in 1884. Coined anew, explicitly as a nonce word (alongside the humorous cromulent), in "Lisa the Iconoclast", a 1996 episode of The Simpsons. Use after 1996 in popular culture derives from that episode.

Verb

embiggen (third-person singular simple present embiggens, present participle embiggening, simple past and past participle embiggened)

1. (nonce word) To make or become bigger.

2. Cromulent:

Etymology

A humorous neologism coined by television writer David X. Cohen; see 1996 quotation.

Adjective

cromulent (not comparable)

1. Fine, acceptable or normal; excellent, realistic, legitimate or authentic.  

As you may have noticed, both of these words are from the seventh season of the Simpsons.  Zac and I have bonded over the Simpsons since we first met, and felt that a nod to our roots was appropriate to this blog.