Stuff they don't tell you...

Things they don't tell you about pregnancy:

-You will grow to hate cocoa butter. In fact, the smell of cocoa or chocolate is no longer pleasurable. Instead you instantly think of being lathered up in greasy, thick, butter that's hard to get out of your clothes and makes you feel, sort of gross.

-People will say, "Oh my gosh, you're so tiny!" or "Oh, you're the cutest little pregnant lady" and you just want to switch torsos with them for a day to see if they still feel the same way.

-While sitting, your boobs will touch the top of your stomach. It's weird, but not a whole lot you can do about it.

-You will itch like it's nobody's business. This is mainly because your poor skin is stretching to its maximum limits.

-You will feel like a cow, udders and all. Not necessarily because you're swollen or bloated (although you may have that experience), but just because you've got some massive frontal weight that you never had before.

-You will be asked the following questions at least 10 times a day: How are you feeling? (Because people are nice and most care about your well being) Do you really want a boy or a girl? (Like I'm going to tell you! If I say one you'll think I'm ungrateful if its the other.) Have you thought of any names? (Probably the most popular question for us right now) How many kids do you want? (My "funny" answer to this is usually "Ask me that after I give birth with this one") Are you going to get an epidural? (My answer is probably not. Hard core naturalists have a problem with that answer because of the "probably" and those who don't believe in pain can't possibly understand why I don't walk in the hospital with my request for an epidural already placed with the anesthesiologist. Read up on it and make your own decision. That's mine).

-EVERYONE will share their unsolicited advice with you about raising children, breastfeeding, labor, you name it. Smile and nod :o)

-EVERYONE will say your life will never be the same. (Isn't that the point?)

-Sleeping is a hot commodity. They say get lots of sleep before the baby comes, but that's easier said than done (says Bessy the cow, lol).

-When you eat a lot, people say, "It's ok, you're eating for two." But you really shouldn't double your caloric intake. Nor should you gorge yourself with unhealthy food just because your pregnant. Remember, you're feeding your kid all that crap too.

-Maybe the most important thing I've come to learn: everyone has a different experience with pregnancy. Some want to be pregnant, some don't. Some want tons of kids, some don't. Some want to stay at home with baby for years, some don't. Some get pregnant right away, others have tried for years to no avail. Respect other people and their experience, but understand it doesn't have to be yours. Just be polite and empathetic. And hopefully you have a great support system to relate with you too.

Tales of a prego: baby brain

I sit here eating my delicious sandwich from Schlotzsky's and think to myself, did that seriously just happen??

Let me set the scene for you...

Patrick and Morgan went out for dinner, and so I decided to get a sandwich from some place close by. I love Schlotzsky's, its literally a two minute drive, so off I go.

I unnecessarily look at the menu (I always have my "regular order" at any place I frequent) and thus begins the longest string of "baby brain events" to this point:

Me: Can I get a small traditional on sourdough?
Clerk: A small ORIGINAL? Sure.
Me: Yeah, sorry.
Clerk: Would you like chips and a drink or just the sandwich?
Me: Just the salad please.
Clerk: The sandwich?
Me: ::shaking my head at myself:: yeah, sorry. And no onions please.
Clerk: Sure thing.

He hands me my receipt and says, "You're order number 102."

I sit down and patiently wait for my sandwich, already embarrassed at the two mistakes I've made in a matter of seconds. There's maybe 5 other people in the whole place.

I hear "order number 101." I look at my receipt because I've already forgotten my number. A minute or so later I hear "small original." Nope, not me. I continue to check my email on my phone. Again I hear "small original." The thought in my mind was literally, "who ordered that?" I look at my receipt again, "nope, I'm number 102." The guy peeks his head around the window, looks right at me and says, "Ma'am, your sandwich is ready." In a matter of seconds I realize what had happened and I feel mortified. I quickly thank him, apologize and start to walk out. I passed the door, stopped, back tracked and as embarrassed as I was, looked for the handle of the door-the windows and door looked exactly the same. Oh my gosh, I just need to get out of here.

I find the door and grab for my keys in my purse. I hit the unlock button and stand by my car...but the alarm sounds sort of dead. Like its off in the distance. I think, "Dang it, I hope the battery isn't having problems again." I reach for the door handle and something doesn't look right-it's black. My handles are silver. OH MY GOSH, THAT'S NOT MY CAR. I look up and this guy who's walking into Schlotzsky's sort of smiles at me and looks down because he's trying not to embarrass me more than I already was. I quickly walk to my car, look around to make sure I recognize things in it. "Good, I'm pretty sure this is my car." Key started it-great-get me out of here.

On the way home (only a two minute drive) I think to myself, "I seriously can't go out in public by myself anymore. What if I forget the rules of the road and kill a pedestrian?! What if a fire alarm goes off and I stand around looking at all the frantic people?" The whole way home I was nervously paying attention to the road, the normal route I use to go home. "Is this my house? Yes! I still haven't planted those two rose bushes in the front. Okay, good."

Not a fan of this "baby brain" and I'll be the first to NOT blame anything "weird" on the fact that I'm pregnant, but this is happening way to frequently for me to deny anymore. I'm ready to have my mind back :)

Pregnant Perspective

I have a new perspective, I mean, being pregnant and all. People say and do very interesting things. Things that make me wonder, "If I didn't have this belly attached, would you have done/said that?"

There's the reaction I expected from parents and grandparents-as in my own and Patrick's. Their voice gets all high-pitched, exclaiming something in English (I think) about "how cute" or "precious" or "baby boy." Then they proceed to rub the belly. The fate of a pregnant woman-just call me Buddah :o) BUT, they're family and I want them to be a part of the experience. I LOVE that they react this way. It must feel incredibly special to literally see and feel generations developing before your eyes. And how blessed I am to have an incredible family.

Then there's the guy in Sprouts that simultaneously takes a jab at my crazy craving and size-in a funny way actually. So, I eat watermelons in 1-2 days. WHOLE watermelons (and I'm not talking about the small ones!) in at most 2 days. 3 days if I'm out of the house a lot. We were in Sprouts one day, getting groceries and I'm carrying around this huge watermelon. A random customer smiles at me and says, "You already got one of those don't you?" I had to laugh. "I sure do!" That's cute.

There's the common phrase that's been used recently, "You don't even look pregnant! How far along are you?" "6 months actually" "Oh wow! You're so little." I don't usually know how to react to this. What am I supposed to say? Thanks? It's just a weird thing to say, or maybe I just feel awkward because I don't know how to react? Who knows.

Then there are the overprotective ones: the ones that view me as disabled because I'm with child. It's amazing what people will do for you because they see you're pregnant. Pick up a suitcase, grocery bag, anything I dropped on the floor by accident, and carry anything no matter how light. Again, I'm not really sure how to react to this. Last time I checked my arms and legs were in good working order, but if you want to do that for me...I guess I shouldn't complain. I know people are trying to be nice, so I try not to take it personal.

Probably one of my favorite reactions is how people look at me at the gym. This one gym in particular is full of big muscley guys who huff and puff with every rep. When they see me from the back, it's no big deal, but then I turn around and their eyes get all big, and stare at me like I came from outer space. I don't think they realize how long they're actually staring either. Just because you're looking at my belly and not my eyes, doesn't mean I can't see you staring at me. At this other gym (that I go to more often now) I usually get a smile from people. Much more friendly :o)

I think my favorite part of this whole experience is seeing how Patrick reacts. First let me say, my husband is an incredible man. I don't think I'm a crazy pregnant woman, but he certainly puts up with his share of wacko, and dishes it out too.

I'm pretty verbal (with him) about how I like to be treated by people in general. For example, if someone implies that I can't do something because I'm inferior in any way, less strong, etc. my natural reaction is to show them wrong. He knows this well. So when I bend down and pick up the newspaper he says to me, "Ummm..(with a very concerned look on his face) I don't think you should be picking that up." Then I proceed to hit him with the newspaper and he laughs. Do all spouses do things for a reaction? Mine certainly does!

Then there's the nightly cocoa butter rub down. Now, what is the fun in rubbing yourself with cocoa butter every night? No fun! But when your husband is doing it, its sort of like a massage...and quite frankly, I take advantage of that. Every night I ask him for the rub down. Sometimes he does it more than willingly, sometimes begrudgingly lol, and sometimes he fake sleeps. I know because when I find him "snoozing" on the couch the ipad light is still on-it was used recently. You don't fool me Mr. Jones. So I just leave him alone because he does it most nights anyway. But he cares so much and does it for me because he knows I like it. What a guy :o)

Some other ways I can tell he cares:

He went to every one of the doctors appointments in the beginning because he was so excited and was determined to be involved. Then we realized he should be saving those days for when the baby actually comes. He was bummed not to come to every appointment, but I assured him that just hearing the heartbeat again is no big deal. It is, and he knows it is, but I think time he can spend with the baby when he's here is better-and he feels the same way.

When people ask us questions about the baby, he's always the first to answer. He's so cute.

Vitamins-he's constantly on me about taking my vitamin D. Bleh.

He reminds me to do my exercises (for Bradly Method class) and smiles. And he totally gets into the class. Probably more than the other dads, and they're all pretty involved dads.

He kisses the baby and tells him good morning, and gets really excited when he can feel him kick. It's so cute.

One morning we were getting ready for church and he started singing all the minor scales, and identifying them, into my belly. It was hysterical. Whenever I sing something poorly (as I mock or do it on purpose) he says sarcastically, "I sure hope you get your mom's voice."

And my favorite:

I set up an email account for the baby. Both Patrick and I write him emails, and the idea is that he can go back and read them when he's older and kind of get a glimpse into our thoughts and the whole experience of him being born. Patrick's first email was, "Dear Poppy, I love you. ~Dad." Something so perfect and perfectly simple that speaks volumes. It brought a little tear to my eye.

Something I've learned through this process: what "people" say is irrelevant. But what your spouse says and does, speaks above all the other noise. I'm so blessed to share life with a man that I know will be the best father to our kids. So excited to share this journey with you, my love.