I finally settled on these shots. I know I need to photograph my changing self because it will mean a lot to me later, but I've never taken very good pictures. Trying to take a good shot while hiding my robot wires (see previous post), avoiding a double chin, exposing the best view of the belly, and smiling without looking like a chump is challenging to say the least.
Saturday, March 27, 2010
Friday, March 26, 2010
Sgt. Dorky has a Baby
I went into this pregnancy knowing full well that physically I was going to change. I expected it, no I welcomed it, because those changes are all a part of the little person we get to meet in just 5 months. What I was not expecting is that over the last week I have gone from old me (slightly dorky) to now a completely dorky pregnant person in just a matter of days.
My legs started swelling early in pregnancy so my doctor decided that I should wear compression stockings since my varicose veins are pretty bad. Unfortunately those aren't knee high compression stockings but rather full panty hose compression stockings. I have to wear them all the time unless I'm at home with my feet up, sleeping, or exercising (HA!) I had to get the maternity ones since they are around $30 a pair and I want them to last the whole pregnancy. Maternity compression panty hose take about 5 minutes to put on and pull all the way up to just under my bra strap. Hot.
But they are surprisingly comfortable. My legs don't hurt anymore and since I just wear them under my clothes, no one really knows. I know I'll be singing a different tune in July when it is 95 degrees outside because I can only imagine how adorable these babies will look under shorts, but right now I'm grateful my doctor didn't order the full meal deal, which is basically a female jock strap a la compression style stockings. Yes, very grateful.
So, sporting my super sexy full-belly panty hose, Bill and I had to take an evening trip up to OHSU on Wednesday because there just wasn't anything good on TV. Sarcasm aside, we got a little nervous during an episode of extremely rapid heart rate while we were relaxing that evening. We called and checked in with the doctor who heard, "heart surgery, 20 weeks pregnant, and rapid heart rate" and then immediately invited us up the hill for a visit. My pulse slowed down significantly by the time we arrived but they ordered an EKG and decided they want me to wear a 48-hour monitor to make sure they aren't missing anything. This afternoon, on our third trip up the hill in as many days, we were introduced to the 48-hour monitor. It is nothing like what I've worn in the past and instead has 7 wires that are attached to my chest that I must wear for, you guessed it, 48 hours. No showers for that time period and I get to look like a robot with wires and suction cups sticking out of my shirt. The only way to cover them is to wear a turtleneck. Bill and I got a good case of the giggles on our way out of the hospital this afternoon because it really is as dorky as it sounds.
To top things off, I've started to develop a little pregnancy skin on my face, which looks nothing like "pregnancy-glow" and everything like my sophomore year in high school. Thank heavens for good make up, a husband who I actually believe when he continues to compliment me, and the little sweetheart who will be here soon who is so very, very worth any dorkiness I may have to endure.
My legs started swelling early in pregnancy so my doctor decided that I should wear compression stockings since my varicose veins are pretty bad. Unfortunately those aren't knee high compression stockings but rather full panty hose compression stockings. I have to wear them all the time unless I'm at home with my feet up, sleeping, or exercising (HA!) I had to get the maternity ones since they are around $30 a pair and I want them to last the whole pregnancy. Maternity compression panty hose take about 5 minutes to put on and pull all the way up to just under my bra strap. Hot.
But they are surprisingly comfortable. My legs don't hurt anymore and since I just wear them under my clothes, no one really knows. I know I'll be singing a different tune in July when it is 95 degrees outside because I can only imagine how adorable these babies will look under shorts, but right now I'm grateful my doctor didn't order the full meal deal, which is basically a female jock strap a la compression style stockings. Yes, very grateful.
So, sporting my super sexy full-belly panty hose, Bill and I had to take an evening trip up to OHSU on Wednesday because there just wasn't anything good on TV. Sarcasm aside, we got a little nervous during an episode of extremely rapid heart rate while we were relaxing that evening. We called and checked in with the doctor who heard, "heart surgery, 20 weeks pregnant, and rapid heart rate" and then immediately invited us up the hill for a visit. My pulse slowed down significantly by the time we arrived but they ordered an EKG and decided they want me to wear a 48-hour monitor to make sure they aren't missing anything. This afternoon, on our third trip up the hill in as many days, we were introduced to the 48-hour monitor. It is nothing like what I've worn in the past and instead has 7 wires that are attached to my chest that I must wear for, you guessed it, 48 hours. No showers for that time period and I get to look like a robot with wires and suction cups sticking out of my shirt. The only way to cover them is to wear a turtleneck. Bill and I got a good case of the giggles on our way out of the hospital this afternoon because it really is as dorky as it sounds.
To top things off, I've started to develop a little pregnancy skin on my face, which looks nothing like "pregnancy-glow" and everything like my sophomore year in high school. Thank heavens for good make up, a husband who I actually believe when he continues to compliment me, and the little sweetheart who will be here soon who is so very, very worth any dorkiness I may have to endure.
Monday, March 8, 2010
The cat has exited the bag
I don't think very many people read this blog who aren't friends on facebook or people I talk to on a weekly basis, but if for some reason you haven't heard, Bill and I are pregnant and due in August. To say that this is a journey that isn't even close to over is so much of an understatement it is ridiculous. I'm excited to be able to blog about this now because I have about 800 posts partially composed in my head about the details of this pregnancy , but I have to say that just getting to the point where I can publicly declare my "condition" is truly one of the most delightful moments so far.
It seems appropriate to share the details of today because it just reiterates my point that middle school kids are largely misunderstood people. Bill and I had no intention of telling the kids today. We decided that we would just let them "figure it out" but that after we told the staff, we would tell the kids the truth if they asked the question. We told staff on Friday and thought that it was only a matter of time, but I really wasn't expecting today.
After the first period of the day, a student I had last year came into my room with a shocked look on this face and said, "I know something." I wasn't worried about it so I just said, "really?" and let him work it out on his own. Bless his heart, he never could say the word "pregnant" but he was obviously surprised by the news and thrilled that he was in on the secret. Bill came in to let me know that a couple of kids had asked and the jig was up.
And the day went by, with kids shyly whispering to each other, too scared to ask me directly (bless them) but too curious to keep it to themselves. After lunch I had a kid in every class who asked, but it was always a kid who had already had Bill's class, as if they didn't quite believe him but felt allowed to say something since he had. Many kids couldn't believe that I could be pregnant because I'm not showing. One actually said, "She's too skinny." I practically hugged him for that comment. But I confirmed their suspicions and promised that I would let them know when we learn the gender, and tried to start the class.
But then the sweetness started. Girls would want hugs. Boys would beam and ask me to name the baby after them. High fives and congratulations. So much love, that the occasional dingbat question didn't really bother me. ("When the baby starts kicking, can I feel your belly?") And I was reminded that these people, who I often get eye rolls and groans about when I mention my job, are some of the nicest around. Mature enough to understand that they probably shouldn't ask but so young and sweet that they couldn't help themselves. But more importantly, excited for their teachers, which just makes me all the more excited.
It seems appropriate to share the details of today because it just reiterates my point that middle school kids are largely misunderstood people. Bill and I had no intention of telling the kids today. We decided that we would just let them "figure it out" but that after we told the staff, we would tell the kids the truth if they asked the question. We told staff on Friday and thought that it was only a matter of time, but I really wasn't expecting today.
After the first period of the day, a student I had last year came into my room with a shocked look on this face and said, "I know something." I wasn't worried about it so I just said, "really?" and let him work it out on his own. Bless his heart, he never could say the word "pregnant" but he was obviously surprised by the news and thrilled that he was in on the secret. Bill came in to let me know that a couple of kids had asked and the jig was up.
And the day went by, with kids shyly whispering to each other, too scared to ask me directly (bless them) but too curious to keep it to themselves. After lunch I had a kid in every class who asked, but it was always a kid who had already had Bill's class, as if they didn't quite believe him but felt allowed to say something since he had. Many kids couldn't believe that I could be pregnant because I'm not showing. One actually said, "She's too skinny." I practically hugged him for that comment. But I confirmed their suspicions and promised that I would let them know when we learn the gender, and tried to start the class.
But then the sweetness started. Girls would want hugs. Boys would beam and ask me to name the baby after them. High fives and congratulations. So much love, that the occasional dingbat question didn't really bother me. ("When the baby starts kicking, can I feel your belly?") And I was reminded that these people, who I often get eye rolls and groans about when I mention my job, are some of the nicest around. Mature enough to understand that they probably shouldn't ask but so young and sweet that they couldn't help themselves. But more importantly, excited for their teachers, which just makes me all the more excited.
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