Unremarkable. 9-29-11

Boop Profile with Foot

I brought a long list of stuff for the midwife, and she pulled together a bunch of potential resources (massage therapist, yoga class, La Leche League, etc.). We forgot information on a doula, but I still have a little time to work on that, I think ;) Boop's heart rate was 148 bpms. And Boop was kind enough not to kick the midwife while she was listening with the Doppler this time. I thought we made it through relatively unscathed (and was mentioning it to the midwife), until Boop gave the midwife a swift kick as she was wiping off the ultrasound jelly.
As I took my papers up front, I asked about the ultrasound. Apparently, I was supposed to have the ultrasound first, before seeing the midwife. They worked me in quickly, though. And I was keeping my fingers crossed that Boop would let us get a profile shot. Different ultrasonagrapher this time. I think they wanted to check for cleft lip; although, it's isolated cleft palate that runs on my mom's side, hard to see on ultrasound.

Boop Playing Peep Eye with My Internal Organs

Little arms and legs were flying around, and Boop was flipping all over the place. Triumph. We got Boop's profile! Fortunately, the ultrasonagrapher moved quickly, but there were more than a few blurry shots. This time, instead of her hands, Boop had her foot beside her head. She's getting to be a big girl: 1lb. 7oz. The ultrasonagrapher typed: "Unremarkable lips and nose." Good to hear, although as Mom, I think my Boop is pretty remarkable ;)

Mickey. 9-23-11

I'm told that the first song I learned was the Mickey Mouse club song, complete with "M*I*C*Hey*E*Y." My parents brought my little neighbor along to my first Mickey Mouse fan club event when I was 4 or 5, and I still have the big Mickey wall-hanging from that trip. I thought I would dig it up and put it on the wall for my little Boop. That was when I still thought Boop was a little boy... Now that I realize that Boop is a little girl, I can't help but want PINK. And so I'm thinking Minnie Mouse.

Mom was a little concerned about my new plan and said, "You know, everyone already thinks you want Mickey Mouse..." Well, I only told 1 person ;) <but I did say that if anyone asked...>. I responded, "Well, that's fine. I'll have Minnie AND Mickey, but Boop's going to have a PINK room." A few months ago, I bought a little pink and red chandelier from Ikea that was planned for the upstairs hall light. I've now decided to put it in my old study AKA little nursery for Boop. I also found a cute little rug. Hopefully, my next purchase will be a crib. In the meantime, I'm trying to finish my upstairs bathroom and get the nursery ready.

Appetite. 9-22-11

Fortunately, I was able to go back to sleep for about an hour this morning, but yesterday was a different story. I woke up at 3:30 am and came downstairs about 4:30 am. I watched TV on the couch and tried to go back to sleep. The only thing that was going through my head was scrambled eggs. The longer I laid there, the more I thought... Some biscuits would be good. And I have some smoked sausage and a pepper left over from the farmer's market. So about 5 am, I was chopping and whisking and mixing. Come 5:30 am as it was almost ready, I suddenly thought, "Hm. I'm not hungry now." But of course, I ate it anyway ;) I don't need to be hungry to eat.
It seems like I get that yucky feeling after I eat something sweet. I had a left over biscuit this morning with a bit of honey, and I started to feel worse. Not sure when they will be testing me for gestational diabetes, but I have a few risk factors. If anything, my slight pregnancy aversion to sweets may be helpful in the case of diabetes. My blood pressure has been good so far, thank goodness. Hypertension is a risk factor for gestational diabetes. The symptoms for gestational diabetes are so vague and sound a lot like just being pregnant. So, I'm just going to have to wait to see what happens. They should be testing me soon.

The Man. 9-26-11 (Yes, I know I'm white.)

The day has been going downhill. Someone added my name to something, and it came as a surprise to me. I'm trying to figure out how to deal with it, but it's not a good feeling. Next, I found out the book shelves I ordered online from Target 2 days ago had a price drop of $13, but after 20 min. of leading me on, the guy on the phone said I couldn't get the difference. Then, I went to a talk about Maori parenting, or rather, about a woman trying to help Maori women who are about to lose their children. If I remember the numbers correctly, Maoris make up 14% of the New Zealand population, but Maoris are about 60% of the children that are taken away from their parents. That number seems too incredible to be correct. Mercy, I hope not! But I'm just talking about The Man (you know, whitey... the establishment).
On the way home from the Maori talk, me, as pregnant as I am, was getting on the tram and was shifting my bag to sit down in a seat, when a college student whipped around me and sat down. Fortunately, there was still a seat left, or I would have been a goner, standing up in the non-air-conditioned tram with windows that wouldn't open. Her and her Vera Bradley bag and Iphone. I managed to check myself, but I felt like going off on a rant about entitled, upper middle class, white folks, especially those that think that they should get a trophy just for appearing. Yes, she was a female, but she's just a cog in the machine, a contributor to the hegemony!
And so the final tipping point in my rant is the issue of life insurance to take care of my little Boop. It was 9pm after a book lecture, and I was trying to get prepared for work and settle in for the evening. I received a phone call; the insurance rate I had initially been quoted, after all of the paper work, had doubled! Of course, I started the application process in late June, when I was still at a normal BMI. Now that I have ballooned to an appropriate pregnancy weight 3 months later, it will be hard to get a decent rate on insurance. And then there was the panic of what happens to me if something happens during delivery. Who will take care of my little Boop? So it's a pretty low time, I'm tired, not sure what to do, and I'm feeling stressed because of The Man.

Hand Off. 9-20-11

I was watching "How I Met Your Mother" last night, and the couple announced they were pregnant. They were going out of their way to play with babies. I can't say that I have gone out of my way to play with little ones at this stage in my pregnancy. Why? Well, if all goes well in January, I'll have plenty of cute baby time :) And, doing this alone, I'll be looking for opportunities for a hand off--not that I'll love Boop any less--just that I will probably need a break here and there.
I guess I've had as much practice as anyone else who has a first baby. It started when I was toddling. Of course, at that time, my motherly qualities weren't optimal. The dolls were as big as me, and I dragged them behind me by their feet. My first doll was given to me by my great aunt R and uncle J. There's a large bald spot on the back of the doll's head from all of my affection and attention.
I worked in the nursery at various churches over time, and I started working at a daycare when I was age 17. They saw me coming. They gave me the 2 year old room <cringe>. I swore that if I ever had a child that I would never have a 2 year old, that my child would skip that year. I had nightmares that the kids were running over me in my bed, mocking me, "Miss K, Miss K, take me to the office! Put me in the corner! Miss K, Miss K!" One had a little lisp, and I can still hear her "Mith K, Mith K!!" I guess I better get used to that in some shape or form... "MOM-MEEEEE, MOM-MEEEE!" I have a feeling that my Boop will be into everything.

R*e*s*p*e*c*t. 9-18-11

I was just reading an article from the Huffington Post about the Murderer's Daughters. What a terrible life! Although dealing with my father's health issues were tough, I am so thankful he was not abusive. I volunteered and worked at a couple of shelters. The spouse abuse shelter really opened my eyes. I hope I never find myself in that situation, expecially with a little one in tow. If there's one thing I've learned, you have to be able to walk away from everything to save your life, and that's a very hard thing, especialy when you're dealing with so much cognitive dissonance, not believing that someone could really want to hurt you that way.
Folks have asked me what I'm looking for in a relationship. With a little one, the stakes will be much higher, and there has been a bit of discussion about this on the SMC forum. I can't say that I really have a 'type.' Mainly the important thing that I am looking for is someone who treats women and others with respect (e.g., respecting privacy, not trying to manipulate or deceive, and not eroding self-esteem). There have been countless women who have found themselves in difficult situations and didn't survive. I don't want my daughter or myself to wind up like them. Some things have happened that have made me quite uneasy. If only abusers wore a sign to alert you!

Taking Stock at Week 22. 9-19-11

Here is what is happening this week:

• I've started back on the prenatal vitamins that have everything but iron, and I've been tolerating them pretty well, thank goodness! My color looks better, the yellow undertones on my face are back. The angular chelitis seems to be almost gone. My stomach seems to be doing better; although I do have a fair bit of nausea here and there. My weight gain has been steady, and little Boop is getting stronger.
• Sleep continues to be an issue. Poor Winnie is having a hard time and is driving me a little bonkers with her scratching, biting, and licking. I hate to put her on Benadryl as it knocks her out, but she just seems miserable. Hopefully, our trip back to the groomer will help a little, and I can give a little Benadryl this evening. Other than that, it was not a quiet night, or weekend for that matter :(
• I looked up what is happening at Week 22, and they didn't mention much, except for a growing baby. I'll take that! Of course, that also means that I'm growing, but it's for a good cause. They did mention that babies develop their sense of touch during this time, and that babies can even grab on their umbillical cord. That's cool. I just wish that so many other people weren't yanking my chain <hwah, hwah>.

Spoiler Alert. 9-18-11

She was on her way back from taking care of her sister, which is taking its toll on my mom. I had hurt my mom's feelings in my blog, and I was frantically scrolling through to try to figure out what she was responding to. The truth is: I worry about my mom. Mom has been through a fair bit in her life and her body is feeling the wear and tear. If my joints are bad, hers are non-existent, and she keeps pushing herself to do more. I'm glad that we have a Boop to look forward to, and looking forward to Boop is a big focus. I know Mom will spoil Boop rotten, just like my grandparents, aunts, uncles, and cousins <especially my Paw-Paw> did me <*cringe* my Paw-paw did have me pretty rotten>.
We talked a lot about things for little Boop and planning for the Baby Showers. Mom is an ace shopper, and she has had her radar out for baby stuff. Boop will never want for clothes. And I know Mom and I were both excited to learn that Boop is a girl because there are so many cute clothes and decorations for girls. I think Mom already has a few weeks worth of clothes. And we're making a list of stuff to shop for, and I know Mom will find it, one way or the other, just like she managed Holiday Barbies and Cabbage Patch dolls for me for Christmas when none existed... And so it will be for Boop, if Boop wants it, my Mom will find it!

Rock City. 9-17-11

I'm recovering. I've been fighting a bit of morning sickness for the better part of the day. By the time I made it to the picnic, I was about to just dig into my cake. Fortunately, I didn't have to wait too long today, and oh my goodness, the homemade Indian food! I ate and ate and ate. Many things I hadn't seen and tried before. The joke is that the students can't get into the program unless they are good cooks :) It's good to see that this new crop is holding up to the standard.

So, after dinner, the students started talking about hiking. I was wondering how it would work with me being pregnant. I knew the Rock City trail and thought that they might like it. However, I haven't been walking like I used to; so I didn't know if I could manage it. They were kind enough to let me go in front, and I think we set a good pace. The rock formations were quite nice, and they stopped to get pix. We emerged from the rock formations to link into the other trails, but I couldn't find the blaze on the trees quickly enough. I think the students were getting a bit nervous; so we just followed the trail back and went the way we came. Unfortunately, I began to realize on the way back why I had such an easy time going... it was all downhill... which means it was uphill all the way back... Between eating such a big meal and the 2 mile hike, I was having to take little breaks to catch my breath. Fortunately, I wasn't the only one!

Stuff. 9-17-11

Mom's friend's daughter was getting rid of a lot of baby stuff, and her friend knew I needed just about everything. Mom went over and had a look before the yardsale and picked out several things. And it was A LOT of stuff. A car seat, high chair, pack and play and a bunch of other odds and ends. She went to the yard sale this morning and was saying that she got baby toys and clothes. No telling what all she got. Babies don't wear anything for very long, and Mom was telling me a few things were never out of the packages.
At least my Boop won't go nekid! But I've got a few other fish to fry. I'm still looking for a crib. I'm kicking myself for not getting a crib when they were on sale at Target a couple of weeks ago. It was just hard for me to think about buying baby stuff at the time. The other big purchase is a stroller. I've made a list of things I need and have been combing craiglist. It's amazing all of the things that you "need" for a baby. Every magazine about babies is touting something I must have. It makes life so complicated. I understand the safety regulations, but all of the rest just seems to be too much. Of course, I admit some things catch my eye that I probably don't "need" ;)

Birthdays. 9-15-11

Yesterday was one of those days where I felt like folks were poking me with needles to see how I would respond. If I admit I care, I only open myself up to more trouble. I've felt very foggy the last couple of days; a weather front was moving in. Chilly and wet. I know what season it is, and what is coming in the next few weeks. At least Boop entertains me with her little kicks, and I'm reflecting on birthdays.
I don't fully understand what is going on, but I'm just having to manage it as it comes. There might be some who take pleasure in that unknown, but I don't. It's a quieter day today. They are going to do another ultrasound in a couple of weeks. Hopefully, they'll be able to get Boop's profile this time, and she won't keep putting her tiny hands in the way of her face. I hated that we had to keep harrassing her.
And so birthdays, they're filled with so much pressure and expectation. I'm a little freaked out at the thought of giving birth. I need to start making my birth plan more definite, but I haven't jumped in. Right now, there is a lot going on, and I'm just trying to make it day to day. Trying to figure out what I'm doing in the next month, if I can manage the family reunion <not sure yet when it is> and if I can manage a trip to visit friends. And then the holidays... And then a big birthday, insha'Allah.

Little Stinker. 9-14-11

I thought it was funny when I had my arm laying across my bump holding my TV remote control, and Boop kicked, bouncing my arm up in the air. And then there was another time when I had my hand on my bump, and I felt a swift kick.
Earlier today, I was sitting at a meeting in the homeless shelter, and I could tell Boop was awake. I had my hands crossed across my bump. Kick! I put my hand on the lower right side of my bump. She kicked me there. Quickly, I thought I'd put my hand on the lower left side. She can't move around that fast. Low and behold, another little kick right at that hand. I'm guessing that was probably more of a punch with her hand than a kick. I don't think that Boop moved that fast. She doesn't respond to waist bands or seat belts. Maybe she responded when the midwife was trying to get Boop's heart rate, and I bet that's why we couldn't get a good view of Boop's face. The more the ultrasonographer poked at her, the more she wanted nothing to do with it and stuck both her hands up there. How are we going to get an ultrasound of her profile if she reacts that way?
Well, Boop has really good aim! Boop certainly has much better coordination and aim than her momma. What do you think: karate or some other form of martial art?

Vile. 9-13-11

I thought I smelled something when I came home yesterday, but figured it was just dirty dishes. So I emptied out the dishwasher and put the dirty ones in. Fine. I started to sleep downstairs, but I couldn't get comfortable in the bed. So, I headed upstairs. I slept until 3:30am and fought to go back to sleep until about 4:30; then I came back downstairs. Wow! It had to be the trash all along.
So, I decided I better take out the trash. It was making me ill. Nothing prepared me for what was outside. The curb trash can smelled bad. As it turned out, it was half full of water, some Taco Bell from Mom's visit, and one of Winnie's 'presents'. I knew I had to dump the water out. VILE. Hello, Morning Sickness. Thankfully, I kept everything down. I just hope some creature doesn't get into the trash, now. I sprinkled baking soda in the trash pail and left it outside. I hope things calm down outside before I go to work.
How likely is it that I'm going back to sleep? I have class at 8:30am. It's nearly 5:30am now. There are plenty of "men's jobs" that I take on without batting an eye, but taking out the trash is the worst, especially when you're already a touch nauseous. I came in and washed my hands. Then, I proceeded to eat breakfast. The joys of pregnancy: you can be sick one minute and chow down the next.

Taking Stock at Week 21. 9-12-11

Here is what it going on with me at Week 21:

• Where, oh where, has my short-term memory gone? I have the memory of a gnat. I'm walking through life in a hazy sort of cloud. I went too long without eating today; so I was really feeling out of it. I went to the restroom before lunch today, and I almost fell on my head! At least I haven't been ruminating as much.
• I had a bit of a scare over the weekend... I couldn't feel Boop moving! I had been out running around looking at furniture, getting groceries, and such, and I came home and no Boop! So, I tried calling my mom first. Then, I called my aunt D. Aunt D who poo-poo'ed it a bit and said, 'She's just resting.' And then she told me about how one of her boys had been like that. After I finished talking to D and Mom, Boop started up again. Whew! That's the worry of an active baby... when they aren't active, you think something is wrong. She's sure making herself known now :) I could see my arm jump as it was laying across my bump using the remote control. She's getting so strong, and it's so early!
• I got a call from the midwife's office; they need profile views of Boop at my next visit. To be honest, the full frontal facial views were a little disturbing. I could see her mouth moving, and her eyes were wide open. You could see the stelate pattern of her iris. She looked like a more cherubic version of The Scream. The ultrasonagrapher thought that maybe she was sucking on her wrist. Of course, I'll think she's the best thing since sliced bread, even if she does come out looking like something from Munch.

At Sixes and Sevens. 9-12-11

It's still a little big for Boop, yet...

On the Friday before Labor Day weekend, A had asked if my mom was excited and if she had started to get things for the baby. No, I responded. Things have been so difficult with the pregnancy, that I've been hesitant to do anything. Mom arrived. Come to find out, she's already in the process of getting a couple of car seats, a pack'n'play, and a bouncy seat. Alright. And she said that she was going to keep them at her house for the baby. Alright.
After the long Labor Day weekend, L stopped by my office. 'I found something for you when I was shopping in Boston, for the baby.' That was so sweet :) She brought it in the next day in its fancy box and wrapping. It was a long sleeved top with a little puppy on it. Everyone ooo'ed and awed. Adorable. U noted that in India, no one would buy anything for the baby until after the baby was born; it's bad luck. We typically wait for the shower until about a month before. Folks have been trying to figure out a day for a shower, and my mom convinced me that after Thanksgiving would be okay, that it's only about 6 weeks early.
And then, I'm hearing that 2 out of 3 of my colleagues who have had babies in the past couple of weeks have had c-sections. And then, I'm reading that several folks were put on bedrest or otherwise didn't have energy to take care of baby stuff (e.g., putting together a crib) when they were in their 3rd trimester. Although I am superstitious, the thought of everything being 'at sixes and sevens' and my nesting instinct has pushed me to try to make some preparations. So, I spent the weekend looking at bookcases and cribs. And I'm trying to get the house in proper order for the baby and in case I should have visitors after the baby is born.

Everything Under the Sun. 9/11/11

I was reading that there is some indication that babies form food preferences in the womb, that scientists believe that some flavors or some elements of the composition of food reach the amniotic fluid. And they believe that this is one of the first ways that a baby is introduced to his/her culture. Boop's taste buds started to develop some time ago.
And little Boop. I eat everything under the sun. Hopefully, that will mean that Boop won't be a picky eater. My mom used to talk about what a picky eater I am... I didn't care for green beans (the way they are prepared back home, as one northern nutritionist called them, "cooked to death") or meatloaf. I had internalized this 'picky eater' label somewhat until I had a chance to try Chinese as a teenager and then went off to college. Later, I realized that I'm not that picky of an eater, it's just that the only veggies my mom made were corn, potatoes, and green beans. I didn't eat green beans; so I didn't eat 1/3 of the veggies that my mom cooked. It's unfortunate that I discovered in college that I'm severely lactose intollerant and have a few food allergies that have developed over time. So, people probably still think I'm picky, rather than just not being able to eat things.
In my mind, I imagine my own little Boop visiting with my mom. 'Grandma, can't we have something besides hamburger and potatoes?' 'Well, what do you want to eat?' 'Can't we get Sushi or a Curry? or Ethiopian?' And then what would my mom do? Of course, she'd be going out for Japanese and have to eat something 'slimy'... Mom always said she hoped that I had a child just like me to understand what I put her through. Well, she might be too much like me ;)

The New Normal. 9-11-11

With Boop on the way, I am reminded that the world is a more dangerous place than when I was little. Some church ladies stopped by my house while I was home for lunch last week (I must be the only heathen in the neighborhood; I sure get a lot of traffic!) and asked me if I read the Bible and if it seemed like we were in the end days? I answered affirmatively.
I fly a fair a bit, at least I did until I moved here, away from a major airport. I guess everyone remembers where they were when the 2 planes hit the Twin Towers. I was living in Indy, half watching the news, when I saw the first tower hit out of the corner of my eye. My friend M in Jersey City, were she and her husband okay? I couldn't reach them. My aunts were headed to CA, something about a plan to hijack another plane headed to CA. I couldn't reach them. Finally, we heard that my aunts' trip out west was grounded, whew! And M had to leave her apartment in NJ for a while because it was too hard to look out the window at the empty spot where the Twin Towers should have been. And I remember the panic of being on one of the first flights back into Reagan National after 9/11, listening to relaxation tapes, doing deep breathing... And then getting caught in Brisbane, Australia when the Shoe Bomber was discovered. I repacked 5 times that day, I couldn't take my EpiPen on board on Quantas, and once on board, I discovered they had my special meals all mixed up. Death by fluid bomb or death by anaphylactic shock? The flight attendant was patronizing and offered me a glass of wine. I was furious and fighting back tears.
Well, maybe it will be easier not to have 'better days' to compare this to. And the less I seem freaked out about things, the less little Boop will be. And probabilities say it is better to fly than to travel by car. And now, I just need to keep from getting freaked out about taking my Boop in the car...

Ear Plugs in utero. 9-8-11

Although I like Bluegrass, I'm the first to admit that I'm not much of a country music fan. I like it better than opera, but that's not a ringing endorsement. My friend G invited me to join her last night to see Vince Gill. I recognized the name of course and remembered he was married to Amy Grant, but when I looked him up, I didn't recognize any of the songs. I was honest with G: I'm not a country music lover, but I will go if you want company and can't find anyone else. It worked out that no one else could go. Gill had worked with some good bluegrass musicians; so I figured it should be a decent concert. Also, I was just reading about musical imprinting. At least I knew he was tuneful. Boop started being able to hear a couple of weeks ago; so I figured it couldn't hurt. Better than my singing!
The 1st song was quite a bit louder than I had anticipated. I thought, 'oh, poor Boop's little ears. I hope she's not too scared.' The first 2 songs were up tempo and fairly loud. Then, the next song was a softer ballad. Several sharp kicks from little Boop. Wow <and ouch>! I was debating as to whether: (1) she was mad that the loud music had hurt her tiny ears or (2) she liked the louder, faster music and was upset that it stopped. I would lean toward the former, except she resumed her normal, steady evening kicks afterwards. Either way, it spells trouble. In both cases, she may have been having a bit of a temper tantrum, and she may like loud, fast music. Nonetheless, I was kinda wanting some prenatal ear plugs <do they do this sort of thing at CHOP in PA?>
I was trying to keep my arms around my bump to maybe provide some extra sound insulation for Boop, but she seemed to settle in. And so we listened to songs, and listened to songs. And the roadie kept bringing out different guitars. And another guitar. And I kept thinking, 'this will be the last song', 'this has to be the last song.' But no. He played for a solid 2.5 hrs. No intermission or breaks. And our seats were in the middle of he auditorium. And we sat there. I was so lucky that I didn't have to go to the bathroom. I was very uncomfortable though. That's the longest I've gone without putting my feet up or standing up for a stretch. Finally, they wrapped up. And then the applause. G had been asking if I wanted to leave, but I felt a little better after standing up to stretch. She looked down and saw that her mother had called 7 times, worried about G. With that, we decided to leave. And I made a quick trip the ladies' room.

Mummers. 9-7-11

I had a meeting this morning at the office closer to my house. The weather was mild, I wasn't feeling sick, so I figured I would walk. As I was walking, I was thinking, 'I bet I look like a duck. No, I look like a mummer!' The first time I heard the word mummer, I didn't know what it meant, either.
I got an email from my friend D asking if I wanted to go with her to Ocean City on a Saturday. The main church there was having a mummer show. I said, 'Sure,' having no idea what I was going to be doing. Something about a parade? Award-winning group from Philly? In a church? Ocean City, NJ was always a nice time away from campus, and I figured I might as well. We sat out, found a place to park, had a nice little walk around the beach, and decided which of the painted ladies we liked the best. Then, we headed over to the church. Outside, they were selling sarsparilla (like from the Old West), which should have been a sign. I hadn't ever had one that I could remember, and I figured I better try one. Then, we headed into the old church. It was huge. I'm pretty sure we were the youngest people there by a good 4 decades. I was taking it all in. I kept waiting for more people to come, and waiting, and waiting.
Out came the mummers from Philadelphia. It was quite a spectacle unfolding before us. Quite a gay old time, in the original sense of the term...we'll go with that. They were in their full marching band regalia and had their backs arched triumphantly, waving their batons in the air. But there was no band. They played a tape recording of the music. They also sang folky songs from the region that I hadn't heard of, like Cape May. And the guys pranced around, threading themselves through the pews of the church. The senior set was eating it up. Then, the mummers asked us all to join in a sort-of bizarre conga line. D and I declined. I was still trying to sort out what exactly was going on, and I still am. That walk was sort of etched in my mind, and I hadn't thought much about it, until I was walking like a mummer today <sans prancing and a baton>...

Toys. 9-6-11

I loved Barbie. I still have to think twice when I see a special edition Barbie. I think the last Barbie I got was "That Girl" several years ago, except for the Elvis and Priscilla I got for Mom last year. When I was little, Christmases were full of dolls and all the accessories. However, there was a Christmas where I wound up with some race cars. One was a race car set that had a black with gold firebird Trans-Am and a white with red Trans Am. It was a Tyco Daredevil Jump with little glowing barrels. I also got a remote controlled black with gold Trans-Am. I did like black with gold Trans-Ams but probably not as enthusiastically as a boy. Barbie wouldn't fit in those cars.
You may think, "That's kind of impressive and progressive, a father wanting his daughter to have both stereotypically boy and girl toys." Bless his heart, I don't think my dad thought that much about those sorts of things. Rather, he might have had other motivations. For example, I would long tire of racing Dad on the track and would drift over to my dolls. There would sit my dad, a race trigger in each hand, with the occasional, "Ah man!" as one of the cars flipped off the track. Then, he'd be off looking for a quarter and Scotch tape so the cars would get better traction. And then he would pop out sections of the track and fiddle with the glow-in-the-dark guard rails to make the course more challenging.
Mom asked me last weekend about all of my dolls at her house... When would I get them? Hm. That's very hard to say. I kept most of my dolls in very good condition. My great aunt A taught me about doll collecting growing up, and I even have quite a few of their original boxes still left. So I'm a bit tentative about letting Boop rip into them with reckless abandon. However, there is always the prospect of Boop and I shopping together at the toy store. And I suspect that Boop and I will have heaps of fun when Santa Claus visits!

Taking Stock at Week 20. 9-5-11

Here's an update of Week 20:

• I can't believe I'm over halfway there! 5 months. I feel huge, but I know there is plenty more growing to do. Based on the field of the ultrasound, it looked like Boop was about 6 inches from crown to rump; so I'm guessing almost 12 inches total. It's strange to think that in a month, Boop will have a pretty good shot at being viable. Anything beyond that, and her chances just keep improving.
• Sleeping upstairs is starting to make me nervous. I know that in the coming months, my balance will keep getting worse, in addition to the vasovagal syncope. I'm going to have to find a nice cushion for the downstairs bed. Speaking of sleep, more "premonitions." Okay, so why did I know N was going to tweet about S the night before he did? I don't like it, and I want it to stop.
• More GI issues. I may just be one of those people that doesn't totally get over the morning sickness. Perhaps it was a bit premature to stop taking the Colace. Hopefully, I'll get back on track soon. I've been eating well; although less fruits and veggies during Mom's visit last weekend. My name should be I. P. Freely.
• Still lots to do on the house. I need to wait a few weeks to replenish my funds, I guess. We looked at a few cribs at Ikea. Honestly, with as much trouble as I've had with my double bowl procelain sink and their return policy, I'm not feeling great about making a big purchase there. I opted to skip their bookcases. Maybe I'll find something I like better locally; although pickin's are a bit slim.

Active Parenting. 9-4-11

Swish, swish, swish, went Boop's heartbeat, then KA-POW! The midwife startled a bit then smiled. Then, swish, swish, swish. I gave the midwife a questioning look, to which she responded, "The baby KICKED me!" I cracked up. I explained my experience with the other midwife where she couldn't find the heartbeat because the baby was so active. She smiled. There's two votes that Boop will be a handful, plus the 2 ER docs; so that's 4.
With such an active baby, I need to sit down and read some parenting books. A friend was telling me that she swaddled after reading the Happiest Baby on the Block, I believe was the name. From what I understand, the book explains that the baby's flailing arms and legs make the baby over stimulated and that restricting movement is soothing. Another book I want to read is about Ferberizing, that helps the baby to develop good sleep patterns. However, I also believe in moderation in all things; so it's unlikely that I will be particularly dogmatic about any approach.
It's hard to believe that Boop is such a spitfire for being a little girl. Does that sound sexist? I need to find some places to channel all that energy.

Dos Barcos, Part III. 8-29-11

The train ride back to my hotel seemed much shorter than the ride to Kadakoy. We talked a lot. He told me that he had his Niksah <a party for an engagement> recently, but he seemed so sad: as he explained, the relationship was "fore-sid" <forced, as in an arranged marriage>. He wanted me to stay in Turkey; I wanted him to come to the US. He hadn't done his 2 yrs of mandatory military service; so if he tried to leave, they would immediately snatch him up. The fear was being stationed where the PKK was active, and he was putting off military service as long as possible by taking classes. I didn't want him to take the chance, either. However, I couldn't afford another trip to Turkey.
On the walk back to the hotel, I needed to spend my Turkish money as I was flying out the next morning; so we found a shop with Turkish Delights that was still open. Apparently, the shop keeper was trying to rip me off, and A would not let me buy anything. Okay, so maybe not the ideal way to treat a liberated Western woman and defeating the purpose of using up my money, but it was so endearing. I felt so safe and protected with him, and he, thankfully, didn't play games. Then, we trudged on to the hotel. I have a photo of us in the lobby of the hotel, and you've rarely seen two more tragic people. Hearing my sad tale, my Spanish professora commented, "Es como dos barcos que pasan en la noche," even though the expression doesn't have a Spanish equivalent.
We wrote to each other for a while, but it was hard for him to write in English. My Turkish was virtually non-existent. Fast forward to the present, I was hoping that I would be able to find him on my trip to Turkey this fall during a conference. But my boss was not supportive of the conference even though I had a poster, and the midwife thought it too late in my pregnancy to travel that far.

Dos Barcos, Part II. 8-28-11

I was getting nervous. My roomie was sure he wasn't going to show. I got a call. There was some problem with his mother's car, and he wouldn't be able to drive. He would have to take the train. The rest of the group left for dinner. I waited for A. He arrived, frantic and apologetic, speaking faster than his command of English would permit. I was satisfied. We found the train and took the long ride to the Asian side of Instanbul. It was a suburb, much like many other European suburbs I had seen, but it was very different than other places I had been in Turkey. We went to a mall, like American malls, but maybe a little fancier. I was hoping that we were going to get dinner as I hadn't eaten, but I was a little embarrassed to ask.
The center rink of the mall was full of ice skaters as we passed, and then he wanted to take me to Print Temps, the French department store. We walked around and landed in the music section. He was looking for something, I think the soundtrack from the Bodyguard, as he spoke enthusiastically about it, and he wanted me to see it and think of him <such a sentimental romantic but I just lapped it up>. Ultimately, he decided on a tape from Sezen Aksu, Deli Kizin Turkusu.
Then we went to a pub to have a drink. I figured I should order beer since I was in a pub, even though I wasn't much of a drinker. He was surprised at my beer order. TIME OUT, Party Foul! He ordered something non-alcoholic and fruity that was infinitely better, which he shared with me. Downstairs, there were people that I mistakenly noted were dancing. No, no, party foul #2, proper Muslims don't drink beer and they don't dance: they "play." It was arm movements that look like the hands in belly dancing without moving the rest of the body. And it was done while people were sitting down. As we watched, he spoke passionately about the situation in Bosnia, wanting the US to help. <As the Iron Curtain fell, the break-up of Yugoslavia was a mess, as you might recall.> I felt so helpless in the situation.

Taking Stock at Week 19. 8-29-11

http://www.bing.com/images/search?q=betty+boop&qpvt=betty+boop&FORM=IGRE#x0y1871

Here's what happening at week 19:

·         I have a taste for water again. I was also doing pretty well with Welch's grape with fiber. I haven't needed Colace for a few days. Although I have bouts of nausea, I haven't had to resort to meds. So, it's just been the prometrium.

·         Sleep is variable. Strange dreams continue. I had a very scary dream about these 2 vampires. They were trying to get into my house to suck the life out of me. It's surprising how well I remember my dreams these days, but it may mean that I'm waking up a lot.

·         Boop’s kicks and thrashings are unmistakable now. Talked to Mom to ask about what the sensation of kicking, and she said she wasn't sure. Of course, every other person I talk to asks me about kicking and say how unforgettable it is. <Yep, I'm an alien child...> It feels a bit like gas bubbles moving around. The other sensations must have been ligament pain from my expanding belly. Little Boop must rarely sleep. It took me a while to realize these sensations were kicking. I just assumed they were GI related.

·         Countdown to ultrasound... 3 more days! I just added a couple of mom's friends to my list of friends. How many women have gone through these ultrasounds before? Scads! How many times have I had a 2nd trimester ultrasound? Just once. So, it feels like a really big deal. I hope everything is okay.

My Little Girl. 9-1-11

Hands to the Side of Her Noggin'

In case you didn’t already hear from my mom: Boop is a girl. Just a big, active, girl. And she was being a little shy and stubborn today. Just like her momma and grandma… <me more of one, my mom more of the other ;)> We saw her little girl bits just fine, but she did not want us to look at her face. The ultrasonagrapher kept trying to get her to move her hands, and all the poking she did and wiggling I did would not get Boop to move. Lots of photos of her feet. Finally, Boop got so annoyed that she just rolled over and stuck her rear out at us, as if to say, “Kiss my a**!”

Kneeling Down

Mom made me promise to send photos as soon as I got back from the visit. And I did. She told me to call her. And I did. It’s strange to hear my mom happy. And then, “Can I tell people? Is it okay if I tell people?” Yes, mom, go ahead… Not long afterwards, I got a call from my great aunt D who had already helped me pick out a name :).

The important thing is that Boop is healthy and looks good. No signs of anomaly or other suspicious findings. Heart, brain, and other vital organs look good; arms, legs, hands, and feet all proportional and straight. Just a busy little spitfire kicking around in there.

Dos Barcos que Pasan en la Noche, Part I. 8-28-11

Munching on Lokum (Turkish Delights) on the "Orient Express"

So, I've written about a few of the ones that were not for me. I guess it's only fair to write about one who I was quite partial to. The first thing I saw was the most adorable blonde-haired little boy. Next I saw him, with his dishwater blonde hair. Imagine a light-haired Adrien Brody. He was ethnically Bosnian and taking his little nephew out to play at the park. I was observing interpersonal touching behavior in Turkish parks. Although trying to be inconspicuous, I was clearly a Westerner, with my fair skin and being... an unaccompanied woman <gasp>.  He came and sat down on the park bench beside me and began to chat, asking how long I would be in Turkey. I told him I would be there just a couple more days, and he looked disappointed. Then, the soccer game the next night popped into my mind; would he be interested in going? He agreed. Yes! Had I planned to go before he agreed? Nope!

I was so excited about the soccer game. He walked in, still in his pin-striped suit from work, long blue wool coat and silk scarf. His only betrayal was a pair of white tube socks in his wing tips :) We were lucky to learn about the game from a local. He was explaining to the group how we had to root for "Chim-boom-boom", and he bought me a styrofoam for those rough stadium benches and a red and gold rope to wear in support of the team. The game was going along well enough, when all of the sudden, we heard a group of men shout in a jeer to the other team, "F*** you." I looked at A: "Did they say??" He laughed and nodded his head, 'yes.' It's good to know that the finer points of American culture had reached the Turks. I guess the F-bomb is internationally recognized.

He was adorable, and my fellow travelers approved, with maybe even a hint of jealousy from some parts... He invited me out the next night to his neighborhood on the Asian side of Istanbul, which got a thumbs up from my fellow travelers and was readily accepted by me.