Hi Girls!
Apologies for the lack of a post last week. In reality, I had one all ready to go, but upon further reflection and some advice from Zandar, I decided to scrap the whole thing and start over. You see, it was a pretty disgusting post- mostly about the embarrassing functions of a pregnant body. It did include a disclaimer, but upon hearing Zandar's grossed out reaction to my dramatic reading of it, I decided that if she couldn't take it, then my mom would definitely not be happy, so it was back to square one. Just for fun, though, and to give you some insight into what you would have been in for, I've included an excerpt from last week's "Post That Never Was":
Now let's talk about down there. You know where I mean. The truth is, I don't have the slightest clue what's going on down there. What I do know is that I was squatting to pee at work last week, and by some (miraculous?) force of anti-gravity, I managed to pee UP. That's right: urine literally running upstream- over my rounded belly and headed towards the pool of my belly button. Leaving me to gasp in self-disgust and scramble for extra toilet paper. What is that even about? I have not had the courage to do any investigating on what could have possibly caused this phenomenon, I have just resigned myself to the fact that I truly am a mess and extra precautions need to be taken in the future.
So you are probably now sighing in relief that you don't have to read a whole post about things of that nature and about how I have to play the piano extra loud in my classes now because of unanticipated bursts of gas.
:( Sorry, that's it, I promise! I just needed to vent for a moment (no pun intended!)
So speaking of my classes, tonight is my Winter Concert, or to be more accurate, Possibly My Last Concert for Awhile. Now, I usually am emotional during my last performance with any group of graduating 8th graders, but with the hormones raging, who knows what we will be in for considering it is possibly my last performance with any of these kids, or even at this school. Truth be told, I might be catatonic about it at this point, if not for some things that have happened over the last few weeks which have made me think that a break might be just the ticket right around now!
First, I cried in front of my entire 7th and 8th grade choir during a rehearsal last week. The kids were just being jerks and I was so angry with them and I took their bad behavior as a personal affront, which I know that I shouldn't. I also know that it is not a good idea to cry in front of your students, but as I tried to explain how disappointed I was in them, I couldn't get the words out without breaking down. As a veteran teacher, I have learned to not take things too personally, but emotions got the better of me that day and I regressed to the sensitive first year teacher I was nine years ago. Both of my parents scolded me for showing weakness to my students (thanks, Mom and Dad!) and as though I didn't feel foolish enough for letting my exhaustion and feelings get the better of me, several teachers and the principal came up to me to "see if I was okay" because the kids told them that they had made me cry. Just great.
Next, without getting into too many details here, because who really knows the legal or moral implications of blogging about work stuff, a parent has threatened to "go to the newspapers" about the fact that I won't let his daughter, who has been to one third of the required after school rehearsals and doesn't take chorus as a class (just comes to after school), sing in the concert. I'm sorry. Your child didn't sufficiently learn the music in the 2 hours and 15 minutes total that she has spent with me, and she is in violation of the policy. While I don't think any newspaper is going to be intrigued enough to pursue this at any level (as Cecelia quipped, "Oh great! We were looking for a front page story!") wouldn't that just be a lovely legacy to leave? Luckily, my wonderful administration is supporting me.
Also, and this has absolutely nothing to do with school, but more to do with wanting to hibernate and not deal with people of any kind for a several month stretch, someone came up to me the other day while I was eating a cookie and said, "That's not very healthy for the baby." And I slapped her. No I didn't. I wanted to. Instead, I stammered some response about trying to be good during the week, but this time of year there is an abundance of cookies and it's hard... seriously trying to defend myself to this person, when all I could really think was, "You think this little cookie is bad? You should have seen what I ate yesterday!" I mean, that whole story puts the NERVE in unnerving.
So, the moral of the story is, I am going to try my best to not over-romanticize tonight. While I adore my students (most days) and truly love my job, a thirty-one-year-old woman sobbing in front of an audience of adolescents and their parents is never cute, and not the image that I want to leave in people's minds. Instead, I will try to soak up the experience with gratitude for the blessings I have received in my career, and in anticipation of the blessings of the family I am starting. I am having my own child now, instead of "borrowing" other people's. I have to remember that this job has some very high "ups" but very low "downs" as well, and although motherhood may be the same, at least those ups and downs will be on my terms- not decided by outside forces.
I know that there will be more concerts in my future, whether it be next year or in a few years, or a little while down the road. This is the only one that Baby H will do with me though, and someday I'll show him or her a picture of tonight and ask, "Do you remember when we conducted the Winter Concert together? You were about the size of a spaghetti squash!" He or she may look at me like I'm nuts, but I will forever be grateful to this child for helping me get through this night with grace.
So wish me luck, everyone... this is my 10th Winter Concert in this school and at least my 60th total performance as a teacher, and I still get a little nervous. But tonight is a night to hold my head high with pride for my career accomplishments and with anticipation of the new challenges motherhood will bring. I am filled with gratitude and excitement about both.
Tuesday, December 20, 2011
Thursday, December 8, 2011
A Sneak Peek!
Monday morning, Ivan and I drove to the OBGYN for our much anticipated 20 week ultrasound. My spirits were absolutely buzzing as we waited for my name to be called, mostly from the excitement, and partially from the latte I had for breakfast (decaf, but those trace amounts are really getting to me from these days of teetotal-ing!). I wanted so badly to know that our baby was safe and doing well. You see, I hadn't actually felt the baby move in over a week, and along with missing his or her dance routines, I was starting to become a Nervous Nelly. Again.
As my mom says, it's starting to become my job to worry, and it doesn't help anything at all. During the car ride to the doctor, Ivan told me that it's of absolutely no use to be nervous about the baby because we literally have ZERO control over the situation. He said that we will have plenty of opportunities to worry about this child and there may even be things we could have done differently, but this was not one of those times- it is completely in God's hands. This is all logical, but I am much more emotion-centered than logic-centered on a normal day, let alone when I have the hormonal equivalent of a nuclear bomb going off inside of me, so worry I did.
We got settled in the same room where we had our first ultrasound and had seen the tiny flicker of the blueberry-sized baby's heartbeat. I laid on the table, pulled my top up and pushed my maternity-banded jeans down to give plenty of space for the warm goo to go. Almost instantaneously upon placing the "wand" on my belly, the image of our baby flashed on the screen in front of us. He or she was curled up, face down, towards my back and WIGGLING! Immediately tears sprang from my eyes and cascaded down my cheeks. Our little baby- now banana-sized, can you believe it?- was right there for us to see, to spy on! How incredible!
We saw all of the tiny vertebrae in the spine, we saw the little butt, the fingers and toes. The technician checked on the vital organs and Ivan was enthralled- "You can see the four chambers of the heart!" he exclaimed, which, admittedly, is amazing but I was just waiting for the technician to go back to something cute. And cuteness abounded. I had to lay on my side for awhile to get the baby to flip over, and when he or she did, we saw what we are convinced is the cutest little face in the world. Tiny lips, a little nose, ears! We painstakingly looked away while the technician checked on the gender.
Throughout the entire process, the baby NEVER stopped moving. The technician explained that the placenta is towards my front, so it would be a few weeks until I started feeling the baby regularly- calm for my nerves! :) Our little guy or girl is constantly turning, kicking, swatting- it was nothing short of MIRACULOUS to behold. Ivan and I were in complete awe of the baby, who was absolutely brimming with life inside of me. Neither of us could contain our smiles as we gazed at the photos in our hands of our little one, waiting for the doctor to come and talk to us. When he did, he informed us that everything looks perfect, which only turned up the wattage on our smiles. (By the way, this doctor actually delivered Zandar 25 years ago. He says he remembers, but I guess any doctor would remember a baby being hatched from an egg that was found on the side of a road. Just kidding- sorry Zandar!)
With our baby's little face as our new desktop backgrounds and the wallpaper on our phones, Ivan and I are truly the proud parents. I find myself talking to the image on my phone, sharing anything and everything that comes to mind. (What am I going to get your aunt for Christmas? This rain is a pain in the neck, isn't it? Daddy's a little crazy). Ivan prefers to talk through my belly (What do YOU want for dinner? A whole sub? That's pretty impressive for someone the size of a banana!). Regardless of our communication choices, we have decided on a few things together, since the ultrasound.
1. We are both leaning toward thinking that Baby H is a "he"!
2. We are pretty sure that Baby H is smiling at us in the photo. (It's a little short of giving two thumbs up, as on the football field, but we're taking it to be a message that everything is A-Okay and that he or she is happy!)
3. Baby H is the cutest baby to ever live. Not up for discussion. :)
So, without further adieu, here he or she is! Proudly making his or her first public appearance, I give you....
As my mom says, it's starting to become my job to worry, and it doesn't help anything at all. During the car ride to the doctor, Ivan told me that it's of absolutely no use to be nervous about the baby because we literally have ZERO control over the situation. He said that we will have plenty of opportunities to worry about this child and there may even be things we could have done differently, but this was not one of those times- it is completely in God's hands. This is all logical, but I am much more emotion-centered than logic-centered on a normal day, let alone when I have the hormonal equivalent of a nuclear bomb going off inside of me, so worry I did.
We got settled in the same room where we had our first ultrasound and had seen the tiny flicker of the blueberry-sized baby's heartbeat. I laid on the table, pulled my top up and pushed my maternity-banded jeans down to give plenty of space for the warm goo to go. Almost instantaneously upon placing the "wand" on my belly, the image of our baby flashed on the screen in front of us. He or she was curled up, face down, towards my back and WIGGLING! Immediately tears sprang from my eyes and cascaded down my cheeks. Our little baby- now banana-sized, can you believe it?- was right there for us to see, to spy on! How incredible!
We saw all of the tiny vertebrae in the spine, we saw the little butt, the fingers and toes. The technician checked on the vital organs and Ivan was enthralled- "You can see the four chambers of the heart!" he exclaimed, which, admittedly, is amazing but I was just waiting for the technician to go back to something cute. And cuteness abounded. I had to lay on my side for awhile to get the baby to flip over, and when he or she did, we saw what we are convinced is the cutest little face in the world. Tiny lips, a little nose, ears! We painstakingly looked away while the technician checked on the gender.
Throughout the entire process, the baby NEVER stopped moving. The technician explained that the placenta is towards my front, so it would be a few weeks until I started feeling the baby regularly- calm for my nerves! :) Our little guy or girl is constantly turning, kicking, swatting- it was nothing short of MIRACULOUS to behold. Ivan and I were in complete awe of the baby, who was absolutely brimming with life inside of me. Neither of us could contain our smiles as we gazed at the photos in our hands of our little one, waiting for the doctor to come and talk to us. When he did, he informed us that everything looks perfect, which only turned up the wattage on our smiles. (By the way, this doctor actually delivered Zandar 25 years ago. He says he remembers, but I guess any doctor would remember a baby being hatched from an egg that was found on the side of a road. Just kidding- sorry Zandar!)
With our baby's little face as our new desktop backgrounds and the wallpaper on our phones, Ivan and I are truly the proud parents. I find myself talking to the image on my phone, sharing anything and everything that comes to mind. (What am I going to get your aunt for Christmas? This rain is a pain in the neck, isn't it? Daddy's a little crazy). Ivan prefers to talk through my belly (What do YOU want for dinner? A whole sub? That's pretty impressive for someone the size of a banana!). Regardless of our communication choices, we have decided on a few things together, since the ultrasound.
1. We are both leaning toward thinking that Baby H is a "he"!
2. We are pretty sure that Baby H is smiling at us in the photo. (It's a little short of giving two thumbs up, as on the football field, but we're taking it to be a message that everything is A-Okay and that he or she is happy!)
3. Baby H is the cutest baby to ever live. Not up for discussion. :)
So, without further adieu, here he or she is! Proudly making his or her first public appearance, I give you....
Baby H!
Friday, December 2, 2011
Here Comes the Bride, I Mean Bump!
I want to start with a little confession. On my wedding day, I had a small panic attack as I walked down the aisle. In no way did I have cold feet or any doubts at all about the marriage (or the wonderful man!) but the intensity of the day was so palpable that I almost couldn't take it. Thank goodness I had my mom and dad on either side of me, because I think I needed them both there to hold me up. I know I was shaking a bit as I looked around to see the faces of all of the people I love. The record that kept spinning in my thoughts was, "This is it. This is your wedding day. This is it. This is your wedding day."
I am definitely one of those girls who began planning her own wedding right around the time when I could fully appreciate what one actually was. I went through countless phases of colors for the bridesmaids and of course the groom was always one of a constant rotation of movie stars, musicians or an of- the moment boyfriend or crush. As the years progressed, the "perfect" setting changed, the "perfect" flowers evolved, the style of my "perfect" gown altered. All of this was done with the happy innocence of non-commitment. So the finality of that day being the ACTUAL day was over-whelming. I was truly thinking, "This is my wedding dress. I will never have another one. Do I even like it? It doesn't matter, because this is it."
I don't think I really settled down or appreciated the moment until Ivan and I were saying our vows. Looking into his eyes, I'd never been so sure of anything in my life. It didn't matter what dress I was wearing, what music was playing, or what the flowers looked like. I was completely present and utterly happy. From that moment on, I savored every second of the day- the people, the dancing, the colors- and the memories are forever etched in my memory and heart.
I've been thinking about my feelings on the first part of that day lately because I'm afraid that I may be doing the same thing now in my pregnancy. I am so anxious for that next step- for the baby to be bigger, to start to prepare the nursery, for the baby to get here already that I am not fully experiencing the pregnancy. Right now it seems like it is dragging on forever, but I know that in retrospect it will feel like the blink of an eye, and I'd better start appreciating all of the small moments. Even though this (God willing) won't be the only time I am pregnant, I am finally realizing that I need to enjoy the blessing of being pregnant throughout the process.
A week and a half ago, the impetus for this change in thinking occurred. I was sitting at my desk at work, during my prep period, when I felt a small flutter in my lower abdomen. My heart almost stopped, because I had been anticipating feeling this movement of my little Baby H for weeks. I was nervous that I could be mistaking gas for his or her "hello," but sure enough, several seconds later, there it was again. Tiny little bubbles of movement, that, had they been higher- up in my tummy, would have indicated nerves. But they were low and unmistakable- life within me. Tears stung my eyes as Baby H continued his or her sporadic dance over the next 15 or 20 minutes. I called Ivan, my mom, Zandar. I chatted over Google with my brother and friends. I texted Cecelia. I sat in awe, and spoke to my little gymnast, "Is that you? I've been waiting for you to say, 'hello'! I love you so much!"
I could have sat there and experienced that feeling forever, but alas, babies are sleepy creatures, and not only did the movement not last long, but the reprises have been few and far between. Each time it happens, though it feels magical, and I stop whatever it is I am doing and bask in the glow of very early motherhood.
My little mango-sized friend has also caused another first- the appearance of an actual baby bump! It seemed to happen overnight- a roundness to my belly that is not "suck-in-able". Down below my belly button feels really round and hard. I know that's where the baby is, and I guess that the uterus pushes everything else up, because my upper abdomen is also round, but soft and cushy. There really is no mistaking the fact that I'm expecting now, except for in just a couple of outfits.
Speaking of a couple of outfits- that is all I have left, from a non-maternity standpoint. Especially when it comes to pants, I have one pair of non-maternity dress pants and two pairs of non-maternity jeans that fit. It makes dressing for work a creative struggle. I'm never one to complain about shopping though!
As I'm embracing my pregnant self, it's hard not to notice society embracing me. I'll tell you, for the most part, everyone is nice to you when you've got a baby bump. Co-workers who previously had barely said, "hello," are striking up long conversations. I get smiles and questions from people at the gym. I wish people in other cars could see that I am pregnant while I'm driving, because I surely wouldn't get cut off as often. I think it's part of God's great plan that while you may be miserable for parts of your pregnancy, people won't be quite as jerky. I don't know if it's a completely fair trade-off, but it's certainly nice!
So, in conclusion, these are happy times. I might even try to embrace the terms "preggo" and "preggersI'm learning to soak up every bit of this amazing period of my life and cherish it for what it is. On the radar of my life, pregnancy is a mere blip, as far as length of time, and a skyrocketing jump as far as blessings. To that end, I've composed this list:
I am definitely one of those girls who began planning her own wedding right around the time when I could fully appreciate what one actually was. I went through countless phases of colors for the bridesmaids and of course the groom was always one of a constant rotation of movie stars, musicians or an of- the moment boyfriend or crush. As the years progressed, the "perfect" setting changed, the "perfect" flowers evolved, the style of my "perfect" gown altered. All of this was done with the happy innocence of non-commitment. So the finality of that day being the ACTUAL day was over-whelming. I was truly thinking, "This is my wedding dress. I will never have another one. Do I even like it? It doesn't matter, because this is it."
I don't think I really settled down or appreciated the moment until Ivan and I were saying our vows. Looking into his eyes, I'd never been so sure of anything in my life. It didn't matter what dress I was wearing, what music was playing, or what the flowers looked like. I was completely present and utterly happy. From that moment on, I savored every second of the day- the people, the dancing, the colors- and the memories are forever etched in my memory and heart.
I've been thinking about my feelings on the first part of that day lately because I'm afraid that I may be doing the same thing now in my pregnancy. I am so anxious for that next step- for the baby to be bigger, to start to prepare the nursery, for the baby to get here already that I am not fully experiencing the pregnancy. Right now it seems like it is dragging on forever, but I know that in retrospect it will feel like the blink of an eye, and I'd better start appreciating all of the small moments. Even though this (God willing) won't be the only time I am pregnant, I am finally realizing that I need to enjoy the blessing of being pregnant throughout the process.
A week and a half ago, the impetus for this change in thinking occurred. I was sitting at my desk at work, during my prep period, when I felt a small flutter in my lower abdomen. My heart almost stopped, because I had been anticipating feeling this movement of my little Baby H for weeks. I was nervous that I could be mistaking gas for his or her "hello," but sure enough, several seconds later, there it was again. Tiny little bubbles of movement, that, had they been higher- up in my tummy, would have indicated nerves. But they were low and unmistakable- life within me. Tears stung my eyes as Baby H continued his or her sporadic dance over the next 15 or 20 minutes. I called Ivan, my mom, Zandar. I chatted over Google with my brother and friends. I texted Cecelia. I sat in awe, and spoke to my little gymnast, "Is that you? I've been waiting for you to say, 'hello'! I love you so much!"
I could have sat there and experienced that feeling forever, but alas, babies are sleepy creatures, and not only did the movement not last long, but the reprises have been few and far between. Each time it happens, though it feels magical, and I stop whatever it is I am doing and bask in the glow of very early motherhood.
My little mango-sized friend has also caused another first- the appearance of an actual baby bump! It seemed to happen overnight- a roundness to my belly that is not "suck-in-able". Down below my belly button feels really round and hard. I know that's where the baby is, and I guess that the uterus pushes everything else up, because my upper abdomen is also round, but soft and cushy. There really is no mistaking the fact that I'm expecting now, except for in just a couple of outfits.
Speaking of a couple of outfits- that is all I have left, from a non-maternity standpoint. Especially when it comes to pants, I have one pair of non-maternity dress pants and two pairs of non-maternity jeans that fit. It makes dressing for work a creative struggle. I'm never one to complain about shopping though!
As I'm embracing my pregnant self, it's hard not to notice society embracing me. I'll tell you, for the most part, everyone is nice to you when you've got a baby bump. Co-workers who previously had barely said, "hello," are striking up long conversations. I get smiles and questions from people at the gym. I wish people in other cars could see that I am pregnant while I'm driving, because I surely wouldn't get cut off as often. I think it's part of God's great plan that while you may be miserable for parts of your pregnancy, people won't be quite as jerky. I don't know if it's a completely fair trade-off, but it's certainly nice!
So, in conclusion, these are happy times. I might even try to embrace the terms "preggo" and "preggersI'm learning to soak up every bit of this amazing period of my life and cherish it for what it is. On the radar of my life, pregnancy is a mere blip, as far as length of time, and a skyrocketing jump as far as blessings. To that end, I've composed this list:
Top 10 Reasons Why Being Pregnant Rocks
10. You pretty much can eat delicious snacks all the time and blame your grossness on the baby.
9. You have a pretty good excuse to blog and basically vent to people about your life, and some of them are even interested!
8. As I mentioned before, people are super-nice! When I get even bigger I may go to the city and ride the subway just to see how many people will offer up their seats!
7. You can wear leggings every single day and no one will judge you. At least not out loud.
6. Maternity pants are way comfortable. I honestly don't see how anyone would ever go back to actually having to zipper and button up jeans. Yuck. Not to mention, they are expandable, to accommodate the baby and aforementioned snacking.
5. My students have become quite protective of me and the baby. Whenever kids in class are misbehaving, without fail another student will say something to the effect of, "Stop it! You're stressing her out! Pregnant ladies can't get stressed out!!" And I stoically agree with them.
4. Your heightened sense of smell lets you know that there are snacks around a few seconds before everyone else, so you can get to them first.
3. Even if you don't officially have "the glow," you find yourself smiling constantly, maybe for no reason at all.
2. Ivan is the doting daddy-to-be. The way he looks at me and talks to the baby through my tummy are the most romantic things I've ever experienced.
1. No matter how bad your day is, at the end of it, you have a little life inside of you that doesn't mind that you had to sit in traffic for an hour, barely got to sit all day, or made a mistake at work. All he/she cares about is that you are nice and warm and comfortable inside for him or her, and thinks you're just great because of that.
Of course, this is just a silly list of my observations, but I'd love to hear your additions! You mommies out there- let me know what your favorite part of being pregnant was and I will include them on a future post. Alternatively, if you'd like to share with me your least favorite part of being pregnant, I bet those would make for great accompaniments to a future list that I will undoubtably write during my third trimester!
Until then, wish us luck at our 20 week ultrasound on Monday! Can't wait to fill you in!
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