NaBloPoMo: Day 9

Ah, funny story. So, there I am in the early stages of labor, and I make this giant vat of curry. A couple days later, still in the early stages of labor, I decided to try making curry bread. This is a recipe that involves letting dough rise for several hours, which probably isn't a good idea while in labor. It worked out fine for me, but be warned.

So... curry bread. It's pretty much a man's dream. (Don't all men dream of meat doughnuts?) Fried dough, warm curry filling - delicious. Don't let the picture on the recipe fool you, though. One is pretty much a meal. R and I were hungry that night, so we split a second one, but we were really full afterward. They're still good for several days (my in-laws wound up taking a few off our hands when we came home from the hospital, almost a week after they had been made, and were quite impressed), but I'd still halve the recipe next time.

NaBloPoMo: Day 2

Although I wasn't hit hard by the nesting bug, towards the end of my pregnancy I did have a lingering urge to use up those items that have been lingering in the pantry for years. You know, those half bags of chopped nuts, ignored candy, impulse purchases, and boxes of Kraft mac and cheese that my sister gave me when R and I first moved in together, six years ago. So, when I saw Loobylu's recipe for her mother's boiled fruit cake, I instantly recognized an opportunity to use up the several packages of dried figs I had somehow acquired over the years.

I'm not exactly sure what I was expecting to happen when I cooked the resulting blob of fruity dough, but I think some rising was probably in order. Maybe the substitute for self-rising flour wasn't quite right. An hour or so later, the cake looked much as it did when I put it in the oven, only cooked.

Still, the resulting cake didn't go to waste. It was pretty tasty, and seemed like the sort of thing one might want to bring if setting off of a long journey. R made some references to dwarf bread, but the reason this cake would be good travel fare is because it is nutritiously dense (a little bit will fill you up), sturdy, and won't go bad at room temperature (which is saying a lot in San Diego, land of mold). I ate slices of it for breakfast for weeks with no noticeable decline in quality. Plus it finally got me to eat all those figs.

Thank you, internet

I swear, everyone on the internet seems to be having babies. Deb over at Smitten Kitchen, Dooce, everyone on my college band alumni newsgroup, the pregnancy forum... Wait, that last one is probably self-selecting for babies.

Anyway, it turns out that hearing from all these other people in similar situations is a good way to reduce The Crazy. This morning, I made the mistake of trying to wear some of my pre-pregnancy pants. I couldn't even button the jeans that I accidentally purchased a size too big off of EBay.

Luckily for my self esteem, Dooce wrote today that she is now, four months along, fitting into her pre-pregnancy pants. Sort of. After a familial tragedy and lots of stress, resulting in weight loss.

So, yeah, I feel better that I can't wear my fat jeans a week and a half after giving birth.

All the news that is the news

Had I actually posted the posts I'd been composing in my head these last few weeks, you would have heard all about the glorious return of my feet to (almost) normal size two weeks ago. It was awesome, though I will probably never know if it was due to the change to cooler weather or some hormonal shift.

I also would have mentioned something about the awesome baby shower my work threw for me. I knew they were getting me a diaper bag and second car seat base, but when I sat down for lunch they brought out this whole pile of gifts. Apparently they felt the need to remedy the fact that the majority of the baby's clothes for the first few months are hand-me-downs from her male cousins. Or perhaps it was just the inescapable lure of tiny pink clothes.

On October 1st, I would have told you that I wound up going home from work about midday with regular, but not overly strong contractions. In the days following, you would have heard me become increasingly impatient for labor to really set in. I'd been resigned to a late baby up until that point in time, but apparently going past my due date instantly destroyed my patience. I'm still not sure how my mom survived the three extra weeks she had to wait for me to arrive.

Instead of all that, I'll simply tell you that I've got a daughter. She's been curled up on my chest while I've been writing this post.

Since she's arrived, it's been interesting to see how much interest we devote to the basics of existence. At this point in time, my dad would probably break out Maslow's hierarchy of needs, and point out that, with this new addition, we've been dropped down to the lowest level while we regain our feet. So, until everything is settled and routine, we'll be devoting extra mental resources to eating, excreting, and sleeping. On the upside, completing such tasks seems to come with a much greater reward than previously, so I don't mind at all.

Feets

My poor, fat feet. You might not be able to tell from this picture, but they're quite fat.

Actually, I took this picture a week ago. They've only gotten fatter since. R is vaguely afraid that they will pop when he rubs them. I've taken to wrapping them tightly in a bandanna, to help squeeze the fluid out of them. Exercise (or possibly the act of squeezing my feet into shoes) seems to help, but only for a little while. They just look ridiculous.

It really is a waiting game around here. Assuming the baby doesn't show up early, I've got two more weeks of work before I start maternity leave. Two weeks until my due date. Two weeks until the deadline for my project at work. Gah. So I just work, and exercise, and wait out the comments of how I look like I'm going to pop. Really, it isn't necessary to comment on the size of my belly every day, people at work. It doesn't really change much in the hours in between.

I guess I'm just a little grumpy. I'm ready to be non-pregnant. I'd like her to show up sooner, rather than later, so that R and I get a little more time to know her before my mom arrives (she originally agreed to change her ticket date if the baby was late, but has apparently forgotten about said agreement). Bit of drama at work, but can't really share that. Bit of drama with the HOA (we never got a copy of the rules, but apparently you can only have two plants on your walkway, the fascists), but hopefully they'll be appeased with a reduction in the number of plants. I don't think I can trim my garden down to compliance, but less flagrant violation of the rules should take the heat off until we move out. If nothing else, I'll play the pregnant lady card. Apparently we make people uncomfortable.

A change in perception

This week, my coworkers at the office simultaneously realized that I'm going to be having a baby.

Sure, this isn't exactly news. As far as they're concerned, I've always been pregnant. As I only moved up to the main office a few months ago, most of them didn't even meet me when I wasn't pregnant (or if they did, it was briefly and long ago). Still, all of the sudden, it seems to have sunk in. I'm not just having a baby, I'm having a baby. Very soon.

I wound up having the following conversation several times this week.

"So, when are you due again?"
"October 1st."
"[some sort of exclamation] That's really soon."
"Yup."
"So, she could pretty much come any time now."
"Yup. She'll be full term next week."
"Wow."

Babies make you crafty

Not having a baby, as from what I understand they tend to be a real time sink, but the idea of a new person seems to inspire industry. Perhaps it is because they come into the world completely lacking in stuff.

Now, I know you might think I'm nesting (my mother and mother-in-law both seem convinced of that), but I swear I found this pattern for baby shoes a while ago and have had it on my To Do list ever since. It just takes a deadline to get me moving. I also assembled a side table we had received as a wedding gift over a year ago. Like I said, nothing like a deadline to get me moving.

If anyone is nesting, it is definitely my dear friend S. She came down for my baby shower last weekend and was clearly showing off her auntly chops. She made me a gigantic pile of burp clothes using cloth diapers and strips of fabric. (Thank goodness she made so many, as I know some kids spit up after every feeding. Did you know you've got to feed a newborn 8-10 times a day?) S used several different prints, but this one is definitely my favorite. Yarr, I spit up on me mum. S also made me a sling, with the promise of more when the baby gets bigger. I would have modeled it with the cat... but that seemed like a really bad idea. Use your imagination.

The most amazing thing, though, was the quilt she made. As you can see, the thing is brightly colored, so it is perfect for stimulating a developing brain and will be nearly impossible to stain.

Now, I'm sure some of you out there are going "Yeah, a quilt. I make those all the time," however that is not the case in this situation. This is S's first quilt. She was so excited by the prospect of the baby that she freaking learned how to quilt. I'll have to remember that for when the baby is an angsty teenager. When she complains that we're so horrible and everyone hates her, I'll remind her that, at the very least, her Aunt S loves her.

Filling my brain with knowledge... or something like it

Hmm... This week is week 5 of the two classes I'm taking.

I haven't posted anything in nearly a month.

... Yeah, that pretty much lines up.

So, what have I been doing, you ask? Attending classes, doing homework, and working, mostly. The class with homework is a class on ArcGIS, which will hopefully allow me to progress further in the mapping field beyond CAD-lackey. The class itself has been... well... as a teacher, I feel I could probably give the guy a few pointers. The first couple of class sessions, he just quickly reviewed what we had done for homework, so we wound up getting out pretty early. The third class, however, he realized that he was well into a condensed class and should probably teach us something, so we wound up staying until 10 pm (not expecting to stay that late, I had to quickly walk over to the parking structure at the break and buy another couple hours of parking). Since then, the class has mostly been Death By PowerPoint, though he will occasionally break out the program and actually demonstrate what he is talking about.

The other class I've been taking is a childbirth class. We decided to try the Bradley method, as I had heard several recommendations and am far too self-aware to be able to do Lamaze without laughing. The reality is, for a class that is supposed to be about better childbirth through information, there is a surprisingly large amount of questionable "information" and unverified superstition. So far, it's been about half good information and half voodoo.

A number of things seem to be done right for the wrong reasons, or not explained at all. The Brewer Pregnancy Diet is advocated, though they don't really explain why other than the fact that you need more protein. However, given that protein deficiency is not an issue in the U.S. (far, far from it), I wanted to know why they were so obsessed with protein. As it turns out, it may help prevent preeclampsia, something that I'm definitely in favor of. The teacher also has this obsession with egg. Again, why? My research revealed that Dr. Brewer developed this diet to help poor women in the south, for whom eggs and dairy products were the only affordable protein.

Still, the class hasn't been all bad. We have gotten some useful information, particularly now that we've gotten down to the meat of issues. It has lead us to do a lot of research on our own. Still, from the way some of the people in the class (and the instructor) act, you'd think doctors were never trying to do the best thing for their patients.

Christmas in June

I recently received a package from my sister-in-law. The box was so battered, it felt almost like a stuffed animal. Inside, though, was the best thing a pregnant lady could ask for: hand me downs! The box was stuffed to the gills with baby clothes.

I feel so much more prepared now. At the very least, the baby will have clothes. Now I just need a crib, some diapers...

Speaking of the baby (what else do I do these days?), she's recently learned how to hit both sides of my uterus at once. So now I get hit simultaneously on opposite sides of my stomach. She's also figured out how to turn around in there, which means I get kicked on the opposite side from normal, something I find quite disconcerting.

I think my hopes of a sedate little child like R have now gone out the window. This one is probably going to need a leash.

Making myself look stereotypical

I've been eating a lot of pickles lately, but it is not because I'm a crazy pregnant lady. No, I'm placing the blame squarely on the blogosphere for this one. All the fresh vegetables of spring seem to turn food bloggers minds (and stomachs) toward briney vegetables. It's either that or the fact that I've started reading the blogs of Deb and David Lebovitz, two seriously pickle-crazy people. In any case, I've been driving R crazy lately by making the house stink of vinegar, but the results have been seriously delicious.

I suppose I can foist some of the blame on Deb, seeing as two of the three recipes I've made have come from her blog. I've made pickled carrot sticks twice now, once with white wine vinegar and once with cider vinegar. I think I like them a little bit better with the white vinegar, but they're really tasty either way. Since you don't cook the carrots, they retain a nice crunch. (Actually, now that I think of it, none of the recipes call for cooking the vegetables, so they're all crunchy and delicious.) I picked up some peas while at the store yesterday so that I would be able to make picked sugar snap peas, and they certainly have not disappointed. As suggested, they're definitely ready to be eaten after only a day of soaking in brine.

I did get to take advantage of the whole "pregnant women eat crazy food" mythos when I brought a container of quick pickled radishes to work. While delicious, I didn't realized quite how pungent they were, and so for a half hour after I ate the radishes I got to hear anyone who walked by wonder what the horrible smell was. Apparently the combination of ginger and vinegar reminds some people of decomposition, so, while I was excused from blame due to my pregnant status (unlike the time I microwaved salmon), the boss lady still Febrezed my office.

New talents

I've discovered something both awesome and gross. When I try to puff out my belly, it no longer changed much in size, however my belly button pops out.

The advantages of having a husband

R to the rescue!

Look at how my belly dwarfs that doorknob. I'm huge!

I need to clean my bathroom mirror...

What follows is a slide show of my failing to take a good picture of my belly in the bathroom mirror.

I suck.

Second ultrasound photos

It's only been, what, two and a half weeks since the ultrasound? I'm calling these semi-timely.

Here we've got the head (over there on the bottom left, for those of you who aren't good at interpreting ultrasound images). I think she might be grabbing her chin and, if so, she totally got that from me.

A lovely spine. These pictures didn't scan quite as clearly as I would have liked (or maybe it is just that the print-outs suck). Her spine really came out well in the ultrasound. Like a string of pearls.

And, yes, there is indeed a human being in there. We've got a couple more photos, but I'm not going to show them to you. One was supposedly a face picture, but really is a cross-section of her scull and looks like a creepy death's head. The other picture is what I might delicately call an upskirt shot, and although some people feel comfortable posting such things on the internet, I am apparently not one of them. We're saving that picture for blackmail purposes.

Still no pictures

I promise there will be photos in the near future, but apparently I forgot that all the post-ultrasound phone calls I needed to make would take up the entire evening. As for last night... well, REI was having a sale and we needed hammocks. Last time we went camping our friend brought along a couple and they were awesome. They making lounging around the campsite so much more desirable.

Anyway, the ultrasound. We're having a girl! A healthy, very wiggly little girl. Seriously, it looked like she was swimming throughout the scan. After one particularly hearty kick, the sonographer asked if I felt it, at which point in time I finally realized what it feels like when the baby is kicking. Everyone else, my doctor included, seems to think it feels like butterflies, but no. It feels like nothing so much as a tiny foot kicking your innards. All those pangs I thought were muscle twitches? They were actually the baby wailing away at my innards. Now that I know what I'm looking for, it turns out that she kicks a lot. So, as I said, I'm having a very wiggly baby.

Slow and lazy

I could lie, and say the reason I haven't posted is because nothing is going on, but that simply isn't true. I've been thinking about what to post, but I've been very slothful of late and never got any further than that.

The boss lady at my office bought me slippers. Apparently all the other office ladies have them, and she didn't want me to feel excluded. They're really comfortable, and I still can't believe I get to wear them around the office.

My pregnancy definitely seems to be the major source of entertainment for several ladies around the office. They inquire about my health frequently, pregnancy stories are common, and everyone coos over my growing belly. One of the ladies even gave me some parenting books she had lying around the house, which was really nice of her.

R's little sister got engaged. We're all thrilled, since the guy is very nice and we like him. As R was the one on the phone with her, I didn't get to ask what the ring looked like, but I'm totally planning on asking the next time we talk. Other people's relationships can be so exciting.

Belly pictures are on the way, as requested. I go in for an ultrasound on Tuesday, so I will probably post them then, along with any other exciting news that comes out of that appointment. Like, say, the gender of the baby.

Changes

My bellybutton is disappearing.

Well, perhaps that is the wrong word, but it has gotten dramatically shallower over the past couple of weeks. Considering the fact that I'm not quite four months along, I'm pretty sure I'm going to have an outie for several months at the end of this.

Outies are weird.

"Mess with the girl, YOU GET THE HITLER!"

Well, that's going to get some strange search results. Seriously, though, if you haven't watched The Venture Brothers, I highly recommend it. We've been re-watching it of late and strange phrases from the show (such as the one above) keep popping into my head. Makes life interesting.

Oh, I totally forgot to tell you all that there is something new and exciting. There is a bump! It's little, but I've definitely got a little pregnant belly.

Oh... Hi there

I seemed to have taken a brief, unplanned blog hiatus. We're hitting the end of a six-month project at work, so things have been more than a little hectic as we've been trying to get things done in the time allotted (and not quite succeeding). I wound up working until 7pm last Friday (nearly a 12 hour day), which is somewhat surprising as I have always been opposed to working in one's off-hours.

This afternoon, though, the madness came to a head as we were trying to burn the final product onto DVDs. My outer monologue (too fried for an inner one) went something like this:

"Alrighty, into the writable folder. Now burn... Why aren't you burning? What is the issue?

"Okay, let's try just this one file... Still no? Damn your mother! Why aren't you working?

"Wait, why do you say 'writable CD folder'? Can you not burn DVDs? You have a DVD burner. Here, let's try a new disk... Arg! Why do you hate me! There is no program for burning DVDs, and the boss took the only internet card, so I can't download anything! What are we going to do?

"Aha! My in-laws are back in town! I bet they have a DVD burner. They live in [neighborhood right next to the base]; they're close."

So, in the end, I wound up racing over to my in-laws house and using their DVD burner. Still, far too much stress for someone who had been racing to implement all the last-minute changed and requests and still finish everything for the deadline.

Yesterday, slightly inconveniently as it turns out, I had my first actual visit with my obstetrician. He turned out to be a round, jolly fellow, a bit younger than I was expecting. He whipped out the fetal microphone and found a strong heartbeat exactly where it should be for this stage in gestation (midway between navel and pubic bone), so it seems that the baby is healthy and growing well.

After I commented that I was surprised to be having no morning sickness due to how sick my mother was with me, the nurse's assistant speculated that perhaps it was due to my carrying a boy instead of a girl. Apparently there is some truth to that line of reasoning (see halfway down the article), but the differences are slight. Being my first baby, there really is no way for me to tell. Maybe I'm just very lucky.

Hello, Crazyness

I've finally hit the point in my pregnancy when my hormone-addled brain is causing me to do strange things. Yesterday, after pouring out some balsamic vinegar for my lunch, I wiped a drop of vinegar off the bottle and tasted it. It was delicious. I took a swing from the bottle. Awesome. After my lunch, I poured some of the vinegar into a sauce dish and brought it with me to sip on as I read some blogs. It was the most delicious thing. I know balsamic vinegar doesn't normally taste like that, but I just couldn't resist drinking it.

After drinking the vinegar, I sent a message to R asking him to stop by CostPlus on his way some from work and pick me up some Vegemite (as I was clearly craving something pungent and savory). He couldn't find the store (they were using a different name), so he wound up stopping at several grocery stores on the way home. No luck on the Vegemite front, though he did find a jar of Captain Toady's Tartar Sauce, something he has been searching for the entire time I've known him, so it wasn't a total loss. Still, I think every guy needs a sent-out-on-a-crazy-errand-by-their-pregnant-wife story. At least it wasn't 2 am Chinese food (yet).

Still, all those events seem somewhat normal compared to my final anecdote. Last night, I had a rather frustrating dream. R and I were getting some food in a food court. He bought a milk shake. I noticed that the shop had rose-flavored ice cream, so I wanted to try a sample. At first, the people behind the counter were very busy. Then, there was a woman manning the register who didn't speak English. I asked her in Spanish, but for some reason she thought I wanted a sample of Gatorade. "What don't you understand about 'quiero probar el helado de rosas?" I said, to no avail. After that, the staff became rude and surly and just started blowing me off. I eventually got so frustrated that I loudly berated their customer service and threw a burrito at them in frustration. Eventually, the manager came out, smoking the stub of a cigar. He proceeded to tell me a long story that didn't really relate to the situation at hand. I got so frustrated that I showed them the timestamp on R's receipt, proving that I had been trying to get the sample for an hour. Finally, they gave me the sample... and it was not very good tasting. I started to tear up in the dream, only to wake up and find myself actually crying uncontrollably. Scared the pants off of R, who was wondering if there was something wrong, as he'd never seen me cry like that before.

Still, as my sister-in-law said, at least I'm not throwing things and barricading myself in the bathroom yet.