Hello, It's Me Again

It’s still hot as hell here which makes being outside, in any capacity (except perhaps in a pool), extremely unpleasant. The air is so thick and heavy it feels like I’m breathing in pudding when I step outside. The heat and humidity, however, seem to not bother the mosquitoes at all. They are quite happy to suck my blood every chance they get. Daniel and I keep proclaiming we need to invest in a dozen or so bat boxes to put up in our backyard. Anybody know how to encourage bats to hang out around your house? How does one effectively advertise an all-you-can-eat mosquito buffet?

So, I’m still pregnant. Yup.

Over the past two weeks, the heartburn has really ramped up and become unbearable at night, or anytime I am horizontal. I’m chugging the Mylanta like a victim of desert dehydration. Between the multiple midnight Mylanta cocktails, the frequent peeing, and the uncomfortable tossing and turning stemming from my irrational fear of sleeping on my back, my nights are full of crappy-ass, barely what you could call, sleep. Hence, my weekday mornings have become downright brutal.

Right now I am longing for a job where I can just do mindless busy work all day and not have to think or interact with anyone. Is there such a job? As it stands, I am immersed in full-time construction administration for the hospital-at-the-beach I helped design. Under normal circumstances, I would still dislike construction administration – because, honestly, what kind of designer actually CARES how the fuck the building goes together? – but, I would be begrudgingly grateful for the experience. A lot of architecture firms hire people specifically to deal with CA and the designers never get to see how their drawings are translated. So, it’s great to have the opportunity, I just don’t want it right now when I’m tired and grumpy and functioning with a lower brain cell capacity.

I am totally being bitch-slapped for every mean thing I’ve ever thought about pregnant women!

On the bright side, I’m still throwing up occasionally, but NOT every time I brush my teeth! Hooray!

And hey, it’s not ALL bad. Sunday morning, while lying in bed getting some extra crappy-ass “sleep”, Gwennie performed her morning ritual of climbing on top of my body and kneading me to death. I understand this behavior is some sort of neurotic cat thing and I am usually very patient and tolerant of her kneading even when she leaves bruises on my hips, but Sunday morning I was Not. Having. It. Gwendolyn, however, has no understanding of the meaning “not having it”. Any effort to remove her was met with digging in her claws, holding on for dear life, and fussing at me very loudly. And that’s when I felt a distinct kick in the vicinity of my upper right stomach. Gwennie whined some more and there it was again. KICK! I looked down and could SEE my stomach being kicked from the inside.

Okay, I agree that’s totally gross and creepy and freaky, but it was also REALLY cool. Like, seriously cool.

I don’t know if the spawn was also annoyed at Gwennie’s kneading or if he was responding to her vocals, or if he was just spazzing out for no reason at all. Up until Sunday, his movements have felt very vague, kind of like flutterings or soft poppings to the point where I’m like, “okay was that the spawn or was that just gas from the Taco Bell I ate?”

So, yeah. Cool.

The nursery is also coming along. The walls have been repaired and sanded and primed, and yesterday Daniel finished putting on the first coat of color. It’s a dark gray that sometimes seems to have a very slight blue tinge to it in different light, and it is AWESOME. Seriously y’all. It looks so good with all the white trim in that room and the light hardwood floors.

Sometimes it is so very apparent that Daniel and I work with oppositely minded groups of people. When I told my co-workers that we intended to paint the nursery dark gray, they were all like, “Oh that’ll be cool. It’ll be such a vibrant contrast to the white trim and built-ins. It’ll really give the room some depth.” While my co-workers approved and applauded the color choice, Daniel’s co-workers openly expressed their dismay: “Oh nooooo! You can’t have a dark, dingy color like that for a little baby. They need soft, light colors!” Numbers geeks have no aesthetic vision.

On the non-pregnancy front: Last week I wrapped up a 6-week creative writing workshop. I’m still kind of sad that it’s over because it was so much fun. Fortunately my fellow creative writers in the group feel the same way and we have committed to continuing to meet regularly. The workshop was offered by a writer who lives in my neighborhood. She also teaches creative writing at a local college, does freelance work and has published a collection of short stories. In addition to her awesomeness, there were three other women in my group: one in her mid-twenties, one in her early thirties, and one in her early fifties. And they all live in my neighborhood and are liberal-minded, easy-going, educated, non-religious, and really fun. I’ve preemptively started thinking of them as my new friends. Yes I know, I’m a desperate little wad of pathetic-ness. But that fact does not diminish my eagerness to hang out with them again next week.

And on Friday, most members of my lackadaisical book club finally managed to pull it together and meet for a full 2.5 hours of happy and discussion. Ages ago we all read The Red Tent, which was a really good book. It reminded me of The Mists of Avalon, which is one of my most favorite books of all time, in that it took a very well known male centered mythology and spun it around to recreate it from the females’ unique point of view. It wasn’t as EPIC as The Mists of Avalon, but it brought in some of the same elements – that of a patriarchal religion essentially crushing an older matriarchal religion, and the power present within a strictly female culture. I read it in, like, two nights because I couldn’t put it down, so it was nice to hear everyone’s different take on it. And it was fun just to catch up with everybody and relax after another agonizingly long work week.

Our book for our next meeting (allegedly in a month) is called The Help. I had not heard of it. Anybody read it?

Also, I am STILL trying to get through the Harry Potter books before the first installment of the last book comes out on film in November. Me thinks this is probably not going to happen since I have been stuck in the 4th book FOR-EH-VER. The first three flew by for me, but there’s something about this 4th one that has me stuck. It is seeming to take a really long time to get to the meat of the story and I’m dragging my feet getting into it. I enjoyed this movie, but the book just seems to start out with all this extraneous and belabored detail that has me falling asleep every time I try to dive into it. I’m not giving up though.

Meanwhile, you can find me eating potatoes and pickles, NOT sleeping, and anticipating more kicks from the inside.

Peace out! (I can’t pull that off, can I? Didn’t think so.)

Oh Boy

Yesterday I had my 20 week diagnostic ultrasound.

It's a boy!

And he's already being an uncooperative little booger! He was in a weird position that was frustrating the technician. She got most of the information she needed and our doctor said everything looks good, but now we have to get an additional ultrasound in another three weeks to pick up the images we couldn't get this time around.

I've gained 6 pounds so far and have another 4 months to go. My doctor told us she's keeping my due date for December 1st, but wants to keep a close eye on the baby's growth as she may want to induce labor sooner if he gets too big. Apparently, 10 oz. is average at this stage and our son (according to the ultrasound measurements) is 14 oz. The doctor took one look at Daniel and chastised me for marrying a square-headed giant!

I have to admit it was really a shock to be told (and shown) that our baby is a boy when we were both utterly convinced it was a girl. Up until yesterday I had visions of buying adorable little girl clothes, hearing the squeaky little girl voice, showing her all the things my sister and I liked to do when we were little girls.

With a boy I am completely out of my element. It's going to be interesting!

A few weeks ago my sister and I were talking on the phone about religion, and Christianity in particular, since she recently started going to a Lutheran church in her neighborhood. Midway through our dialogue, she suddenly asked me, "why are you so angry?" And I was a little taken aback by her question.

Ironically, I think living in the so-called Bible Belt for the past four and half years, has really hardened me against religion and Christianity in particular.

Let me say this: I love religious mythologies and rituals. I really do. And I find the stories and beliefs of all religions to be fascinating. I also firmly embrace our country's freedom to practice religion - ANY religion - even if I, personally, think it's all hooey. It's called Liberty, and it's a good thing.

The problem is, the most vocal Christians down here (and I say "most vocal" because obviously there are some really wonderful people here as well who subscribe to Christianity), are so incredibly intolerant of any deviation from their personal beliefs, it's astounding...and infuriating.

You may remember this post I wrote about the Secular Life organization here in Nashville and the heat they took over the completely innocuous and inoffensive bulletin board promoting their social organization.

This brand of aggressive, hostile Christianity seems to penetrate every aspect of life down here and was completely foreign to me for the most part before moving here.

On July 14th, in a college town about 30 minutes south of Nashville, the Christians are gathering together in, basically, a hate rally against the construction of a mosque. Here's the initial outcry. And details on the protest. Make sure you read the comments on this one - some real doozies both by Christians and Muslims alike.

While I don't think Islamic beliefs are any more significant or valid than Christian beliefs, they ARE allowed to worship here in peace. It's in the Constitution.

So while it may seem as though I am mad as hell at religion, I'm just frustrated by the hostility, prejudice, and downright meanness of the religious atmosphere that permeates this region.

On a bright note, I've heard there is a counter-protest being organized to protest the, uh, protesters.

TMI

Friends, family members and co-workers frequently ask me how I’m feeling. I typically answer their polite inquiries with something like, “I’m feeling pretty good lately. Needing a little extra sleep at night, but other than that, doing well. Thanks.” Nobody really wants to hear the gory details of being 5 months pregnant. And who the hell can blame them!? Even Daniel will sometimes give me the TMI look . . . but I just laugh and keep piling on the uncomfortable information. That’s his job, right?

So, for those of you who are genuinely interested in how I’m ACTUALLY feeling, read on. For those of you who are asking after my well-being in a genuinely friendly manner, but don’t want to hear about, know about or imagine any of the gross or personal stuff, please STOP reading right now. I beg you.

First of all, I do believe I had my very first official pregnancy craving last night. It was totally bizarre. It was about 8 o’clock. We had already eaten a dinner of spinach ravioli and red sauce. I was upstairs doing some work I had brought home from the office and I couldn’t stop fantasizing about potatoes. Plain, white, boiled potatoes. Like I was under some kind of mind control device, I walked downstairs and announced to Daniel that I needed to eat a potato. I then proceeded into the kitchen where I boiled 3 small red potatoes, skins and all. I ate them immediately, salted and smashed up a bit with my fork. Those potatoes were so freaking delicious! It was like I had never tasted anything so delicious in my entire life.

Second, all of my emotions are, like, exponentially heightened to levels of heretofore unseen crazy. Something that I used to think was sad is now the most tragic thing I have ever heard. If something before annoyed or frustrated me, now it infuriates me beyond all rationality. A touching sentiment before has become the most heartfelt thing requiring loud racking sobs. It’s ridiculous. For example, at work this morning, I overheard one of my co-workers talking to another co-worker about their respective running regimens. One has been running for a while and has done marathons and iron mans and such, and the other is overweight and just starting out. At the end of their conversation, Iron Man co-worker said, “I know you can do it Fred. You’ve got what it takes – I believe in you.” And okay, so he said it in that sort of male jokey kind of way, but I could tell he was actually sincere and being supportive, and that gesture just totally slayed me. I had to wipe away tears and swallow the lump forming in my throat. RI-DIC-U-LOUS.

Okay, for those of you who didn’t heed my previous warning and have continued to read, NOW is really the time you’ll want to close this window on your computer screen. Trust me. Otherwise you’ll know things about my pregnancy you never EVER wanted to know.

For instance, every time I brush my teeth, I vomit. I don’t get it. The nausea that I had for the first three months has completely disappeared except when A.) I wait too long to eat something, or B.) I brush my teeth. I even googled this stupid condition and apparently I am not the only pregnant woman to suffer from this oral hygiene revulsion. Sometimes it’s just a little retching and gagging . . . and then other times it’s a violent emptying of my stomach that leaves me feeling shaken and beaten up. I’ve tried non-fluoride toothpaste. I’ve tried using only a teeny tiny amount of toothpaste. I’ve tried brushing really really fast. Nothing, so far, has helped.

Moving further down the disgusting scale . . . I’ve read that there’s lots of shifting going on inside me. Like in the pelvic region to make room for the rapidly growing parasite. I think some fairly major shifting has occurred recently, because I can now FEEL my uterus when I stand up from a seated position. Freaky, right? It’s very unsettling for me.

And we’re in a downward spiral. Heartburn. I used to never have heartburn. I don’t remember exactly why this occurs when one is pregnant but I think it has something to do with the digestive system slowing down (again, most likely to accommodate the little spawn in some way) and so food doesn’t digest as quickly. It becomes much worse when you can’t burp. Why can’t I burp? I HAVE NO IDEA. To my knowledge, I have never been able to burp. It’s a medical mystery. On the bright side, I can fart. And my flatulence level has noticeably increased with being 5 months pregnant.

Also, constipation is beginning to become an issue. Again, I don’t remember why exactly this occurs, but things are slowing down, down there and it’s troublesome.

So, other than that and needing a little extra sleep at night, I'm feeling great! Thanks for asking!

A Little Funny

So, I was just on Facebook reading all of my "friend's" and actual friend's updates and someone commented on a research article about texting and driving and I totally remembered that I forgot to tell you this funny thing.

It's not really funny in a big picture sort of way, but it was hilarious at the time.

Okay, so last week we were stopped in traffic at a red light. Pretty heavy traffic, not much movement even when we weren't stopped at a light. Three lanes - two going straight, one turning. We're patiently waiting, chatting...the turning lane gets the green light and the guy beside us (in the other NON-turning lane) steps on the gas and plows into the SUV in front of him!

He was texting while at the red light and caught the forward movement of the cars going in the turning lane, I'm assuming in his peripheral vision, and just WENT. Ohmygod! He hit that SUV hard enough to crumple his hood. Smoke was pouring out! And the light is still red and we're all still just sitting there, him in his smoking, now crumpled and undriveable car. Hee. Obviously nobody was hurt. The SUV didn't even have a scratch on it.

The guy's pride was hurt probably more than anything. And it was so damn surreal it was funny.

A huge pet peeve of mine is people talking and texting on their cell phones while driving. I suppose stopped at a traffic light is a little different, although clearly that too can cause traffic problems if you're really engrossed in a conversation.

I swear, everytime some driver is doing something dangerous or inconsiderate, they are almost ALWAYS on the phone. So annoying.