An Ode

I should have seen this coming
But I was blind.
I never appreciated you when you were there for me,
For the more than thirty-one years you served me.

Faithfully

Silently

Overlooked

You held me up throughout my days
I ignored you through my nights

Never understanding your power
Until now-

Now that you are gone.

You served your purpose beautifully,

Delicately

Together we saw many highs.
You never shared in the glory
But always took a back seat to others

Never coming first, second, third, or fourth
In my mind.

And now I am left bewildered

Stunned

Betrayed

Wallowing in the the realization that I deserve this.

You have deserted me-
Left me to my self-absorbed ways;
To rely on the others who have let me down
Time and time again
And are in no condition to be of any help to me now.

And so good-bye,
Sweet Friend.

If you return to me,
Know it will be different.
Know I will appreciate you,
Admire you,
See you for the contribution you are to me.

Until then,
Believe I miss you.
Believe I feel this vacancy

In my heart.

Or more accurately,
On my legs.
Between my feet
And my calves.

My missing friend-






My ankles.

So that was my attempt to be clever as I inform you that I have entered the world of Cankledom.  Yes, friends, it has come to this.  I am told that I should consider myself lucky that I made it this far without the horrors of swelling body parts- that had I been pregnant during a hot summer it would have been far worse.  But it is hard to find consolation in those thoughts when you are sitting on the toilet, peeing for what is the 37^th time that day and you look down and see that the bottom portions of your legs are unrecognizable.  Well, maybe that’s not quite true- you DO recognize them- they belong to your elementary school lunch lady.  So how did they end up residing beneath your knees?  It is one of the great Mysteries of Motherhood.

On a related note, Ivan and I attended a wedding this past weekend (it was actually post-rehearsal dinner that I noticed aforementioned cankles).  We stayed over at a Courtyard Marriott and to our complete amusement, the room was identical to the one in which Baby H came to be.  (Is that an overshare?  Sorry!)  Ivan thought that it would be so poetic if I went into labor while we were staying at the hotel.  I, on the other hand, had no grand visions of Courtyard Marriotts playing any more of a role in our child's existence than they already had.  And besides, I was grumpy from my massive ankles.  To make matters worse, the next morning, when I tried on my shoes for the wedding, I discovered that lo and behold, my feet had joined the party and expanded past any hope of squeezing into my beloved shoes.  And so to the mall we went, to find some larger, more practical wedges.  

Now, if there's anything more discouraging than being forced to buy shoes that are 1.) not nearly as high as you'd like them to be 2.)  not nearly as sexy a style as you'd like them to be 3.) not the color you want them to be, because old lady shoes only come in a few, mundane shades it's not being able to bend down and fasten the clasps without rocking back and forth on the chair, looking like a life-sized Weeble.  Just sayin'.

This is me trying on shoes.

Other highlights of this week have been the removal of all rings, save for my wedding band.  Not that the wedding band fits either, but I refuse to have anyone, say, on line at Target wondering about the paternity of this baby.  I’m considering buying an obnoxiously large cubic zirconium ring in my swollen finger size to go in the complete opposite direction- people can wonder which lucky celebrity got to make me his bride.  I have to find things to keep myself amused these days, as regular activities are becoming tougher and tougher.

Working out has been HARD this week.  Stuff that felt borderline easy last week now feels like the final summit of Everest.  On Monday I actually had to stop swimming mid-lap to catch my breath.  And I came very close to having to use the stairs to get out of the pool- unheard of!  It took two tries to hoist myself up and over the edge of the pool, beached whale-style.  It must have been quite a sight.  Even walking has become a bit of a challenge.  I’m developing a waddle, more from the strange pains in my groin area than anything else. 

This is me trying to get out of the pool.

At the gym this morning, some ladies were making conversation about my pregnancy.  I was being told how April is such a nice time of year to give birth- you can take the baby out for a walk, you don't have to worry about extreme weather, etc.  One of the ladies added that it's wonderful that I won't have to carry during the summer.  I started to add what my mom had told me- that I would have been swollen far longer had I been in the third trimester during the summer.  I got the words out, "Yes, I just started to swell and-" when she interrupted and said, "Yes, I noticed that your face just started swelling."

Are you kidding me?  Who says that?  I wasn't talking about my FACE!  I couldn't even respond to her.  I kind of just stood there with my (apparently bloated and puffy) mouth hanging open.  This exchange has inspired me to create a list of "Things You Should Never Say To A Pregnant Woman," to be debuted next week.  And that's gonna be at the top of the list.

Speaking of pains… this last stretch has been chock-full of interesting sensations.  As Baby H runs out of room in my belly, the kicks are taking on a different feeling- and we can definitely feel the tiny little feet from the outside!  Ivan and I lay on the couch at night and crack up at the waves of movement that course across my abdomen- it’s alien-esque.  Ivan tries to convince the baby to come out early, which, at this point wouldn’t really be early at all.

I keep teetering back and forth on when I want Baby H to make his or her grand debut (because you know I have so much say in the matter!).  I find myself thinking, “What if the baby came tomorrow?  That would be great!”  and in the next moment I am in a panic, thinking, “No!  I didn’t mean that!  The nursery isn’t completely ready yet!  I still have so much organizing to do at work before I leave!  What about Easter?”  The truth is, we’d be just fine if today was the day.  But my OCD side has comprised a “Wish List” of Things That I’d Ideally Like To Have Done Before My Life Changes Forever.  So we’ll see what happens.  Statistically speaking, chances are good that Baby H will be later rather than sooner.  Whether I use the extra time to my advantage by working on the house or squander it by curling up on the couch with a large bowl of fruit (a craving has finally materialized!) and a full line up of trash tv is yet to be determined. 

In actuality, the nesting has been full force since the baby shower.  There is something so fun about assembling baby things and arranging them cutely.  I’m hoping to have some photos of the completed nursery to post next time.  It’s looking pretty adorable, I must say!  It is bright and cheery and Baby H is going to be very comfortable and content there- I just know it.  

I'm going to the doctor weekly now.  On Monday, she told me that everything is still looking good and that now we're just waiting for labor, but that of course there is no way to predict when that will be.  (Which didn't stop me from organizing a baby pool for my students!)  I asked if she could tell anything about my size and my ability to deliver naturally.  She asked my height and shoe size (I gave her my normal size, not the bloated, have to buy shoes for a wedding at the last minute size) and when she heard the answers she said that nothing is screaming to her that I wouldn't be okay.

I know that no matter what happens, the only thing that matters is getting a healthy Baby H out safely, by any means necessary.  But when you have a student teacher and therefore a lot of time to daydream, you can't help but play out a number of scenarios in your mind of what labor and delivery might be like.  One of my favorite options is:

I go in for my 40 week check-up and am given an internal exam.  The doctor says, "Oh Honey, you're at 9 and 1/2 centimeters already.  How did you do that?  You're amazing and you look great too."  We go to the hospital and out pops Baby H after 2 pushes.  I barely break a sweat (just enough to look all glowy) and Baby H and I become legendary for our amazing delivery skills and cuteness as a mom/baby pair.

This fantasy is second only to:

Ivan and I go to our favorite restaurant.  We have an incredible meal.  We've just finished dessert and I'm sipping on my tea when the waiter brings over our leftovers all packaged up.  Then, almost like an afterthought, he says, "Oh yes, and your baby,"  and hands me a perfectly bundled Baby H.

Sigh.  A girl can dream.  What better way is there to pass the time during this waiting game?  I have to rely on my brain these days- clearly my ankles can't be trusted.

Showers of Happiness

Last weekend was chock full of maternity milestones!  I took off on Friday and Monday, being that I have dozens of sick days left and if I don't return to work, they'll be gone forever, and also being that if I'm going to work up until the final hour, I feel like taking a day here or there to prepare as best I can is in order!

Friday began with getting maternity photos taken.  I highly recommend getting maternity photos taken, if for no other reason than it's pretty awesome to get your picture taken without having to worry about sucking in.  Under non-pregnant circumstances, if I had to stand in front of a camera for an hour, you'd better believe that I wouldn't be eating anything until after the shoot- at which time I'd stuff my face with any number of things.  But in pregnant circumstances, I can stuff my face with any number of things beforehand!  Hooray!  Ivan and I went to one of his clients who owns a studio in Montclair.  This husband and wife team was amazing.  They were the sweetest people and you can tell that they more than knew what they were doing.  They had a way of making me feel beautiful, even being as large as I am right now.  Under the warm lights, I channeled my inner Tyra Banks and tried to employ the techniques I've honed over years of watching America's Next Top Model- particularly the "smize" (smiling with your eyes- it's intellectual stuff, I'll tell you).  I was doing just fine- until the clothes started to come off.

Now, that's a bit of an exaggeration.  I had come to the studio in a black tank top and jeans and the first round of photos was taken in that and I felt very comfortable.  After awhile, though, they brought out these swaths of black fabric in varying sizes and they became my new attire.  The large one was great- they wrapped it around my waist like a flowy skirt- totally fine.  The other one was super-small and they twisted it around my top, creating a makeshift bandeau top.  If you're doing the math, that leaves a lot of exposed, pregnant skin.  Ivan could tell that I was teetering on the edge of my comfort level and politely said as much, but we wanted to be compliant, as they are Ivan's clients and they claim to have had much success with said swathes.  So I bared the belly and finished the session.  I cannot imagine that the photo we select will be one of the half-naked ones, but we'll see!  We get to see the photos on Thursday, and we're so excited!

On Saturday, Ivan and I headed to St. Peter's for the third week in a row for Lamaze class, which, as you know, I had been really looking forward to.  I'm so happy to say that I wasn't disappointed.  The instructor for the class was hilarious and teeming with information on what to expect.  We watched the videos of births which managed to have the effect of both scaring the crap out of me and reducing me to a blubbering mess as soon as the little baby was out.  The men practiced massage techniques on their partners- score!  We did the storied breathing exercises and even practiced while holding ice cubes in our hands as our husbands coached us through a "contraction."  Not that holding an ice cube in your hand is actually comparable to a contraction, I'm sure, but it served the purpose of helping us to block out the thought of the pain.  It was super helpful also, for Ivan and I to get on the same page as to what constitutes appropriate coaching.  Read:  If I am not amused by your silly faces and making light of the situation while I'm holding an ice cube in my hand, I probably won't be amused when a watermelon is forcing its way through, well... you know where.

The highlight of the day though, by far, was the tour of the maternity ward.  The rooms are actually quite beautiful- both the labor/delivery and recovery.  But... the newborn nursery.  Don't even get me started.  In no way am I exaggerating when I tell you that I stood in front of that window and sobbed as the nurses held up these hours-old babies-all pink and disoriented- for us to see.  I mean... to think that one of them is going to be coming out of me in a few short weeks is so incredible.  I can't stop thinking about them!

To top off this fabulous weekend, my baby shower was on Sunday.  And it was the most beautiful shower that ever was.  Honestly, the amount of work that my family (and of course I am including Ivan's family when I say "my family"!) did to throw this event is mind boggling.  Many of you were there, so you know the exquisite details that made it so very special.  It was tea party themed, complete with big hats, fine china, and the tastiest treats.  It almost embarrasses me to think of the time and money spent to pull it off.  I am tempted to itemized the tasks that each person took on to make the shower a reality, but I'm scared I'll leave something or someone out.  So, I'll merely state that I was humbled and blown away by how elegant, thoughtful, and fun the event was

In addition to being blown away by the event itself, seeing so many of the gorgeous ladies I am blessed to have in my life was such an emotional experience.   As I felt after my bridal shower:  They say it takes a village to raise a child and it is over-whelming to see so much of your village gathered in one place.  And if that's not enough to over-whelm, the generosity certainly will do the trick.  Our house now looks like a baby bomb has exploded within it and I daresay that Baby H is pretty set!  The nursery is looking adorable and he or she has outfits to get through the entire first year incredibly stylishly.  I cannot accurately express how grateful I feel- I spent most of the shower and much of this week in a stupor.  I don't think that anyone exists who deserves that kind of attention- least of all me.  The only way I can justify it in my head is to think that it was for Baby H.

So, clearly, I am one lucky lady.  Baby H and I are living a pretty charmed life and we're enjoying this last stretch of time as a bundled set.  As I finish this post, it is Monday morning and we're officially, as of yesterday, at 37 weeks which is considered full-term.  It's a great feeling to know that any day we could meet our little miracle and he or she would be ready to face the world.  At the size of a watermelon, he or she should be!  Yes, it is getting harder and harder to move and my bathroom trips have doubled in the past couple of weeks.  My feet and hands are swelling to ridiculous proportions (more on that later).  On top of that I have a cold, which, of course I can't take any medicine for, and I gave it to Ivan, who, by the way, can take medicine but prefers to lay on the couch and look at me with puppy-dog eyes that say, "No one has ever or will ever experience this kind of discomfort."  I'm scrambling at work to make sure that everything is set up for my leave and also trying to prepare for the "last gig for awhile" for the second time.  But I'm so happy and I feel as though a mug that I received at my amazing baby shower sums it up best:

New Mommy-  Too Blessed To Be Stressed.