Wednesday, November 30, 2011

Phase #1

Hey Sports-Fans!
Here's a quick update from this morning's post.

After I finished my post at around 5:30am, I felt pretty gassed so I went to sleep for a couple of hours. The fact that I could sleep through my contractions meant that they weren't super fast and furious. I was feeling generally okay until about 7:30am. My Mom called and some work-dudes knocked on our door asking us to move our cars. We were up. My contractions had slowed to a dull 'once-in-a-while' pace.
At about 10am, we went to see Captain Steve for a routine appointment.
He checked me out and while I was there, I had a few more contractions but nothing worth noting as monumental. Apparently, he said that I could have just had a small leak and that my water was not completely broken. He sent us on our way and said he'd call at 2pm (12 hours since my "water" broke).
After a delicious Pizza lunch, we went home and I napped until Captain Steve called at 2pm. Still no major contractions or anything exciting. We discussed waiting 6-8 hours before I call the hospital again and we will make a call as to whether or not I will be admitted and induced. After I got off the phone with him, I stood up and leaked all over myself again. Ick.

Alex and I were going bat-shit crazy by this point so I paced around and did some yoga to move things along. When I get a contraction, I feel success is on its way. Unfortunately, we haven't been feeling much success tonight. I'm getting contractions once every 20-25 minutes and I'm not writhing in pain.
My parents came by and Captain Steve called again around 6:45pm. He told us to go to the hospital around 9pm to be checked out. If I have ruptured membranes then I will be induced and we will have our baby in our hands by tomorrow morning. If not, then we are home again for some more sporadic labour and hopefully some sleep.

Overall, today was painful (not physically) but emotionally. Both Alex and I are super impatient and we would love to move this along but if there is one thing we've learned its not to fuck with mother nature (unless you are medically trained!).

If I'm home tonight, expect an update. If not, I'll write you all on the other side when I have 'Peanut' safely in my arms. :)

What's that leaking down my leg?

This morning at 2am, I'm pretty sure my water broke. It's now about three hours later and yes, I've been having painful and consistent contractions. Lucky for me, once I calmed down and realized what was happening, the contractions calmed down a little too. I'm currently typing this at about 5am EST and I'm still home and okay. 
For all you loyal readers, this also means that I won't be typing my blog for a little while so I can get used to having 'Peanut'. Don't worry. I'll be back but I can't say when. 

I called Mt. Sinai to let them know that I made a puddle on my floor (not in the bed, thank God!) and they said to get some rest and call before I come in. I won't be going until these contractions are fast and furious. 
Who can rest at a time like this? 
First of all, BABY IS COMING! I have 12 hours from 2am until I meet 'Peanut'! Wooooo!
Secondly, when I do have a contraction, it feels pretty unpleasant. For my ladies out there who have not given birth or experienced this before, I can only describe it (at this point) as really really intense menstrual cramps that radiate throughout your entire pelvis, stomach, and back. They come as a wave so you know its coming and it hits a peak of pain, then it subsides. I have found that I can bring on a contraction by farting (which makes farts even that much funnier). Also, after my water broke, I felt like nine months of feeling bloated finally eased. I don't have to waddle so much anymore. Don't get me wrong, contractions are painful and although I sound nonchalant about the whole deal, you have to remember that I've had these before with two (not one...TWO) ruptured ovarian cysts and three years of consistent tummy aches; so my pain threshold may seem a tad bit higher than the average person. 
Finally, labour is physical work. Unless I was to be scheduled for a routine c-section, I have to fuel up before this marathon. I can't sleep or rest when I'm hungry so I went downstairs as made a delicious breakfast of scrambled eggs. I figured that protein would help sustain me considering I don't know when the next time I'm going to eat will be. No one said not to eat! If this proves to be a bad decision, I'll know for the future. If this results in me pooping on the table while I deliver 'Peanut' then so be it. I don't have to be down there to deal with it and the beauty of delivering at the hospital is that someone else will clean it up. 

I perceive Alex and I will be heading to the hospital in the next few hours and then the grand announcement of "THUNDER CATS ARE GO!!!" will have gone viral. In the meantime, I'm home and happy. I will do my best to post pics and stories of the rest of my labour but for now, I'm going to call my parents before they leave for work and lie down for a quick rest before all the excitement begins. 

Monday, November 28, 2011

"Thunder Cats are GO!"

If you haven't seen the movie 'Juno', I highly recommend it.
Instead of a sob story about a knocked up teenager, Juno really enlightens the audience with her quirky personality and oddly kind heart.
I'm not Juno.
I'm by no means Juno.
Her baby was an accident and she intended to give it up for adoption right from the get-go.
My baby is mine. MINE! Keeping!

Even though Juno and I are not (by any stretch of the imagination) in the same predicament (other than the whole pregnancy thing), there are some clever moments that I have adopted from the movie to help me gain some clarity over the past eight and a half months.
The one I'm going to touch on today deals with informing the public that "IT'S TIME!!!".

I'm due next Wednesday/Thursday (Captain Steve and I really don't know what day exactly so I get two due dates).
Over the past few weeks, I can admit that I've been super duper uncomfortable. I'm unhappy in my ever-expanding skin (because even my maternity clothes are too small); I have to pee every five seconds; I can't bend over to pick anything up-which is a real drag considering I'm super clumsy and dropping stuff all over the place; and I'm having 'practice' contractions.

Alex has been a saint throughout all this. He gets frustrated with me when I forget stuff or drop things but overall, he's kept it to himself. I reckon that he looks at me and thinks to himself, "Geez, glad that cow standing over there crying over her dropped bowl of yogurt isn't me".
Regardless of the unpleasantness of the final weeks of pregnancy, nothing compares to the excitement that at any moment, it could be GO TIME.
Because we are both a little edgy, we've been calling each other throughout the day more than usual.
After my fender-bender, I realized that I calling Alex while hyperventilating and freaking out is not a good way to start any conversation, especially when my tone could be mistaken for signs of labour.

In 'Juno', Juno's Dad is a former Naval officer (or something army related). The script was cleverly written to include a code for IT'S TIME; ergo, when Juno's water breaks, she calls out, "Thunder Cats are GO!"

I like this. It makes sense to have a specific code for an occasion like this so that when I call Alex during the day, he can know exactly what's shaking. I figure that Juno's code is ambiguous enough to only mean one thing and it has already worked in a fictional setting so why wouldn't it apply to real life? (Ha ha!)
If Alex receives a text with "Thunder Cats are GO!" he knows I'm in labour and that he should come home and take me to the hospital.
We've extended this code to my parents (and my in-laws, who are hopefully reading this). If they receive a short call or text with "Thunder Cats are GO!", Alex and I have left for the hospital because I'm in active labour and there is going to be a BABY! They can do what they want with this information, like meet us at Mt. Sinai or go to our house and make sure Marley has food (or change my sheets because I will have inevitably had my water break all over the bed). Either way, my family does want to know if "Thunder Cats are GO!" so this will include them in the loop.

We are expecting 'Peanut' to make its debut soon. When that moment comes, don't you all worry, I will inform you when "Thunder Cats are GO!" too. :)

Wednesday, November 23, 2011

Pre-Pre-Pre Labour

It has come down to the middle of the ninth (38 weeks to be exact) and I am ready to evict 'Peanut' from my body.
I've had a nasty cold this week but that's not why I want 'Peanut' out. I'm ready to meet my baby and deal with the impending physical labour that I have to deal with.

Everyone has a birth story.
My mother tells the story of my arrival as if it was series of events. I know she's leaving out the nitty gritty details of pushing out a nine pound (yes, I was nine pounds) baby. Basically her story sounds kind of like this:
She was sitting around on a hot July afternoon while the rugs were being steam cleaned. She started to feel unpleasant and called the doctor. He told her to come down to the clinic. She and my Dad packed their things and went. After closer examination, it appeared that she was in labour. Off to Mt. Sinai hospital! After a few hours of discomfort, I was born at about 9pm. She was hungry after delivering me (duh! I was enormous). Some nurses found her someone's lunch and she ate some poor nurse's sandwich. The end.

I'm sure if she added more detail to remembering that day, my sister wouldn't be here. I'm both thankful and disappointed that there aren't more details. Trust me, I am going to want to forget my labour too so that I can (hopefully) do it again. I'm a tad disappointed because I've never experienced this and the closest woman I know who has, is my Mom. I can't blame her for not knowing all the details of labour and delivery though. My sister and I are in our mid twenties and no one's memory can recall every moment from twenty-some-odd years ago.

I've read and heard about other labour and delivery stories. Some are scary; some are funny; most are sweet and leave me tearing up.
I recently confided in Alex that I was beginning to get a little freaked out about giving birth. He calmly reminded me, "eye on the prize". I'm sure when the moment comes, he will neither be so calm nor will he want to offer any sage advice because I'll be screaming at him ten ways from Sunday (with the language only sailors should use).

So, that brings me to what the next three weeks are going to look like.
Well, there are many signs of labour and as I have learned from my freaky baby books, labour can begin early and be a very long process.
Even though I've been having mild contractions (to drop the baby down into "go" position) over the last few weeks this does not mean that I have started active labour. That will come when the contractions are consistent, unpleasant, and increasingly strong.
If I were to rewrite my pregnancy books and tell people the very early signs of labour, they would begin around week 36 and they would include more interesting symptoms than simply physiological ones.

Emma's guide to Pre-Pre-Pre Labour:
Very first sign of labour--> The realization that you have to push a baby out of your "business" in a few weeks. This is commonly characterized by the giant inconsolable crying fit and hyperventilation. To combat this symptom just accept that you have to do this and that everything is going to be fine (even if you don't believe it).
Next sign--> A burst of bizarre energy.
This is seen when mom-to-be starts making lists of impressive magnitude and manages to accomplish all of it. For the Dad-to-be, please remind Mom to rest so she doesn't get the rare, but possible symptom of the pre-pre-pre labour cold.
Next sign--> The pre-pre-pre labour cold. This one only happens to the unluckiest of unlucky moms-to-be. There is nothing you can do about this but buy lots of kleenex and keep a good supply of chocolate cake on hand. Mom isn't going to want to do anything but lie in bed and eat chocolate cake. She already feels like shit, the cake can't hurt.
Next sign--> Even if Mom has been suffering from the pre-pre-pre labour cold, she is going to get her energy back at some point. This is when she hits the "I GOTTA CLEAN AND I GOTTA CLEAN NOW!" phase. The bathroom will never look this good again. Make sure that after the bathroom, kitchen, laundry room, basement, and garden are all tended to that Mom has more of that chocolate cake. She might be a tad pissed off if she's the only one cleaning so the cake will make everything better...again.
Final sign of pre-pre-pre labour--> Getting excited over otherwise stupid shit.
Mom may be a bag of crazy at this point (thanks hormones!) but this one will be the most entertaining to watch. If Mom orders something over the internet and it arrives, be ready to celebrate this rare occasion like its a Bar Mitzvah. She will rejoice over the arrival of her new sneakers or laundry soap with a four course meal, a DJ, and of course, more chocolate cake.

After all these phases, regular labour can commence at any time.
I've been through most of these signs. Our bathroom looks amazing and now that we are out of chocolate cake (for the first time in about two weeks), the regular routine of physiological labour and delivery can commence!
I, personally, think that the pre-pre-pre labour symptoms are way more fun that what actual labour will be but then again, eye on the prize. Pre-pre-pre labour reward is chocolate cake; actual labour reward is alcohol...oh wait no, the baby (of course).

Monday, November 21, 2011

Sick and Tired of Being Sick and Tired

It's back.
The common cold has struck me down.

After last week's series of unfortunate events, the only thing to top it is a cold.
As mentioned in my last post about the pregnant cold, this is no fun. Before, when I was sick, the weather was a bit nicer and I could at least go outside and get some fresh air. Now that we are into mid November, the sun has stopped warming and lighting Canada, and only comes out as a tease; to remind us that for the next five months, we are going to be uncomfortable and cold.

Now that I've reached 38 weeks, I've hit that point where I'm uncomfortable without illness. I can't really move or sleep well, and every time I blow my nose, I'm afraid my water is going to break. I actually had a mild scare today. It turned out to just be pee. (It still made a mess and it still freaked me out a bit).
Having a cold is never fun for anyone. For everyone else, who isn't pregnant though, you get to take drugs. I don't. Well, I was told today by the pharmacist at Loblaws that I can take Benadryl. Seriously?
I'm not going to take it (even though some relief would be nice).
First of all, I made it through my last cold without it and I'm going to do it again. For me, it is the principal of the whole thing. Had I known that I could take Benadryl, I would have drugged myself LONG ago. Now that I'm going through my SECOND cold of my pregnancy and only now I find out that Benadryl is safe, I refuse to take it. (I know I'm stubborn but just wait for reason #2).
Reason #2: Captain Steve told me to tough it out. I may joke that he's a shifty fellow but he's seen everything and if he says NO DRUGS, then NO DRUGS. :(
I get it that he's never been pregnant, so I do find it hard to take him seriously sometimes but I'm going to assume that he knows best (even without suffering first hand). I've trusted my care to him and I will continue to follow his advice (even if I end up suffering).
Finally, being sick is a drag but excellent communication on behalf of my body. If I went for the drugs, then I worry that I wouldn't be able to actually understand what my body is telling me. For example, the Benadryl would knock me right out. I'm a lightweight when it comes to medication and I know that NOTHING would wake me from my Benadryl coma (not even pee). I would inevitably wake up to Alex shaking me to get out of a wet bed. He wouldn't know if I had peed or if it was "go time", and this would freak him out. At least if I'm not drugged, I can shake Alex awake and tell him that I peed and that we need to change the sheets. He would be pissed (ha ha!) and less freaked out to wake up in a puddle that I can explain.

So what have I been doing to get some relief from this awful cold you ask?
Well, my sister was kind enough to give me a Nedipot and show me how to use it. If anyone has tried one, they know that this is the BEST thing ever! Yes, you are going to have a nose full of saline solution but it is totally worth it and awesome. Basically, you blow warm salt water up your nose and everything (seriously, EVERYTHING) comes out. This relief lasts for about three hours (enough to get you to sleep comfortably) and it contains no drugs. I've already done it three times today and I plan on going for a fourth "blow" before sleep time tonight. It doesn't hurt and it really isn't as unpleasant as getting water up your nose at the swimming pool. No burning, just snot.
I've been given the okay for Fisherman's Friend lozenges. WHOA! Those are strong cough drops! They also work really well. If you are preggo and have a cold, I would go easy on them because they make your tummy a little uncomfortable because they are so strong but they will clear you up good! Also, they are made of menthol which is not amazing for moms-to-be but if you can't breathe and you are waking up your partner in the middle of the night because you are gasping for air, then these will work in a pinch.
My final sickness solution is old fashioned rest. I sounds simple but your body is working hard at doing two things: 1. Growing a baby and 2. Fighting a cold. Curl up under a warm blanket with a cup of lemon tea, a good book, and your kitty cat and take a real sick day or two. Try not to let being sick get the best of your spirits even though it will bum you out.

So, being sick and pregnant is a pretty unpleasant combination but not unbearable. The good news is that both conditions are temporary and I'm almost at the end of both. :)

Thursday, November 17, 2011

Preg-Tastic List Of 'Awesome' Things To Do

As you may know, I haven't had a particularly decent week.
The fender-bender was a drag; the work-dudes on my street have been a headache; and my poor sister (and her new kitty) aren't feeling very well. If you are chums with Wendy, I'll let her tell you her story. I'd rather not go into it any more than I hope she feels better and that her kitty feels better too.

So, you may be wondering how I'm doing. Or, you're not because you don't give a damn. (But seriously, if you didn't give a damn then you wouldn't be reading this blog now would you?).
I'm doing great.
Against all odds, I'm feeling really good.
As weird as it sounds I have never felt better. I have oodles of energy and I have actually accomplished a lot in the past few days. I've managed to exercise, train most of my clients (sorry again about today, Jess), deal with my insurance company (and the very strange collision-fix-it place), go to the doctor (twice!), and make 36 cupcakes for my friend's son's fourth birthday party. This is not normal for a woman in her 37th week of pregnancy. We all knew I wasn't normal from the start but this is borderline insane.

At this point, my pregnancy tomes have advised that I get as much rest as possible. I personally feel like I've slept through my entire pregnancy and now that I feel good, I should use this energy to get as much 'awesome' done before the baby comes. This doesn't mean that I'm going to run out every minute of the next three weeks. Basically, it means that I'm going to try and enjoy this energy and freedom right down to the second.
I feel that I should be living like this anyway but when you are feeling like crap, its hard to get out and make the most of your life. Now that I feel good, I'm going to do it all (like get all the stuff I need to get done...done).

Here's my preg-tastic list of 'awesome' things to do before baby:
1. Christmas shopping--> As apart of the 'tribe' we Heebs don't usually play Christmas. My in-laws do and even though they are getting a baby, I don't want to forgo the excitement of Christmas pressies just because I'm having that baby. I love my in-laws and they already do so much for both me and Alex. I can make them happy by not disappointing them on Christmas morning. I will brave whatever mall I have to brave (or order necessary items online) and have them wrapped and ready to go!
2. Waxing--> I'm well aware that at the moment, I'm not going to care who's looking at my 'woman-business' when I'm pushing 'Peanut' out of there. There is just something about cleaning yourself up before an event that makes you feel special. Who knows when the next time I'm going to be able to leave my house for an hour to have this done without worry? Alex will obviously play Daddy-Daycare for occasions like this but I still want to get it taken care of. Also, now that I can't reach my legs to shave them, having someone else wax them is a good option. Even though I can't see it, I'm sure there is plenty of hair there.
3. Seeing friends--> I have a baby shower this weekend for my friend Emma (not me!). I told her I wouldn't miss it for the world. Well, in reality, if this baby makes its debut early then I'm going to have to deliver the sweet gift I got her another time. I'm still going and I'm going to have a riot. I'm also seeing my cousins this weekend and my awesomely amazing friend Andrea. Andrea and I are always laughing our guts out so there is a pretty good chance that she is going to induce my water breaking by simply cracking a witty comment or telling me a hilarious story. Be ready for Sunday folks!
4. Cooking--> My parents keep telling me that I should make some meals and freeze them for easy access. I hate frozen food. This is why I'm just going to cook large meals and hope that I go into labour with plenty of left-overs in the fridge. If someone wants to volunteer their services by cooking Alex and I delicious Gluten Free dinners for a few weeks, we would greatly appreciate it. :)
Either way, I've been baking cupcakes like they are going out of style. I'm not eating them all; don't worry. They are for others.
5. Go to the liquor store--> I plan on breastfeeding. I know I'm not supposed to be liquored up to do this but after nine months, I'm ready to stock up before the holiday rush. I also want to pick the Champagne I plan on drinking after I deliver. Yes, its going to be pricey. Yes, I'm going to make Alex buy it. Yes, I plan on drinking it as quickly after I deliver as possible.
6. Alex--> I'm going to just leave it at that. (My family reads this).
7. (Lastly) Rest--> I know I just pulled a full 180 on you all but in-between all the excitement of getting my list done and getting ready for 'Peanut', I do still need some rest. I can feel it in my feet at the end of the day and realistically, I need to look after myself as best I can right now. I will (inevitably) soon be #2 and my own rest and comfort will soon be second chair to a screaming, pooping, burping, bundle. If I don't schedule it, it won't happen.

Even with all these things I want to do, I'm not caught up in them. Everything is flexible (even the rest). This week, I learned that life will hand me lemons. Lucky for me, I love lemons and I'm fully capable of handling lemons under all conditions (and contractions).
More than the energy, the best part of reaching 37 weeks, it the positive outlook I now have on the next chapter of my life. Even with all the chaos of my week, I feel a boost of confidence that I have never had before. I still have the healthy fears like every new mom. I'm undoubtably terrified about pretty much all aspects of having a baby but after this week, I feel good about knowing that I am competent and work exceptionally well under pressure and physical discomfort.
Now for the hard part, waiting.

Tuesday, November 15, 2011

Pick Your Pimples On Your Own Time D-Bag! Watch The ROAD!!!

Before I begin telling you all about this day, I want to remind you that I am fine. Everything I am about to tell you really happened but I want you to all know that everything is just fine.
Now that I've scared the pants off everyone, here we go.

Do you ever get that feeling that you know your day is going to suck? Do you ever wake up in the morning and just sense it? I don't. I like to look at everyday as a new beginning and that even the most crappiest of mornings can still make the rest of my day great. Our days are what we make of them (to some extent).
For me, my day was not okay right from the get-go.
The Toronto Star sent us a note saying that they were going to be sending us free papers everyday for G-d knows how long. This is a tactic that they often use to gain subscriptions. By having copious amounts of newsprint in the house, I gain the headache of having to clean it up and recycle perfectly good paper everyday. Alex and I hate waste so we make an effort to read the paper before I dump it in the blue bin. Because Alex is often the first awake, he will run downstairs and open the front door to see if our paper has arrived. Today it had, and the slamming of the front door after the paper was discovered could have woken the dead. It did. I was up. Not a big concern in my opinion. I don't mind waking up and this way, I got to have breakfast with Alex. He sees it as a WIN but in my honest opinion, I could probably have used a little more beauty sleep.

So, Alex went to work and I puttered around the house until I decided to go to the gym. I thought it would be a nice gesture to volunteer to team teach with my friend Becky today. We taught Attack together last Friday and the stereo was broken. This was awful but we managed to get through with energy and enthusiasm. I figured that if (perchance) the stereo hadn't been fixed then she could use some support. (I'm pretty nice, eh?).
I got into my car and made my way to the gym.
Here are some things you should know about my car:
I drive a 2009 Saturn (Opal/Holden) Astra. It is THE BEST car I have ever driven in my life because it is one of the safest on the road and it is BRIGHT RED!!!!
Why did I want a car that's bright red you ask? Well, red is, in my opinion, the fastest colour on the road. Cops see red; I see red; EVERYONE sees red. It is no longer true that red raises insurance rates. In fact, both Alex and I drive bright red cars and our insurance premiums are quite reasonable.
Anyway, the point is that if you can't see my red car, you are either colour blind or not paying attention to driving. The latter scenario was the case today.
I'm driving up Coxwell, right outside of Toronto East General Hospital when I come to a stop behind a line up of cars at a red light. I look in my rear view mirror and I see a guy picking a pimple and not slowing down. I don't have much room in front of me so I just grit my teeth, push extra hard on my break pedal and...CRUNCH/POP!!!!!
F*CK!
I pull over. The guy behind me pulls over.
He's a 17 year old kid with his G2 (graduated licence permit- meaning that he can drive alone but is still a rookie).
First I see the front bumper of his car and it looks like he's done some serious damage to what I can only assume is his parents' Toyota Yaris. I turn and look at my back bumper and I have some minor scratches and a tiny ding. Not really a big deal. My Astra is a tank and I'm very thankful for that.
I look at the kid and he's shaking. He's piss-scared. He looked at my belly and really freaked out. He had not only bumped up his car (and scratched the candy apple red paint off my rear bumper) but he had committed a cardinal sin by hitting a pregnant woman. In all honesty, I was fine. I had a small headache and I was pissed but nothing worth getting my already tight panties in a twist over. I was stationary before he hit me and he wasn't going very fast so there wasn't much physical damage to me that he could do.
At that moment I knew his parents were going to give him hell for bumping the car.  I didn't want to be the one to loose my sh*t on him so I asked him if he had his information (insurance, licence, phone number, name...). He was still in shock so I got his name, phone number, and licence plate number and sent him on his way. Although unlucky to have hit someone, this kid was hell-a lucky he hit me (even pregnant).

So my poor little car has some boo-boos. Again, I'm fine but my day was on a slippery slope downward.

I got to the gym and sure enough, the stereo hadn't been fixed. This meant that Becky and I had to teach using a tiny boom box and no microphone. A woman at 37 weeks still teaching Attack and doing it without a mic is crazy. This was a spectacle for sure. For anyone interested, I'll be doing it again on Friday. Hopefully on Friday no one will hit my car.
After class, Becky thanked me profusely and I drove her home.
I was scheduled to train my sister-in-law so I made my way to my in-laws' house to meet Jess.
There is something about Jess. She has magical powers. She can ALWAYS make me happy (even if I'm in the most sh*tty of sh*tiest moods). I was so happy to see her.
I told her about my morning and she asked me questions about my kitty. We giggled and I had forgotten all about my car and the stereo. I even forgot that I was ravenous hungry from my morning workout. It was bliss...until we got home.
Jess wanted to see where my car had its boo-boo so I showed her. Just as we leaned down to look at the scratches a bird swooped over our heads and blasted my car with what I can only describe as the WORST bird diarrhea I have ever seen. We both stepped back (thankful that neither of us were shat on), and went into the house to finish exercising. They say that getting pooped on by a bird is lucky. We were luckier not to be pooped on but I really could have used all the luck I could get today.

You'd think that at this point of my day, I would have been ready to loose it. Nope. I was cool. After lunch with Jess, I went to pick up some groceries for dinner and get my car washed. I could no longer tell what was scratch and what was poop so I figured that a car wash would cheer me up and make my car look better.
It felt better to have a clean car. I could actually see the scratches and bump and knowing where they were and how bad they were gave me some comfort. There is no big damage. I can touch everything up with some paint and after someone really smacks into me, then I will replace my bumper.
I decided that now was a good time to head home; while I was on a high note.

My car (although it had a rough day), looked like a shiny red candy apple. I was feeling hungry and tired but generally okay.
As I turned onto my street, the final hurdle of my day was upon me. There was a tractor and a giant dirt truck blocking the street. Fine! I drove around the block only to find that there was no parking anywhere.
That's when I lost my cool.
Picture this if you will, my car is blocking an intersection, a very pregnant woman gets out of the car and throws a monster hissy fit at the gentlemen in the truck and tractor. The two men just looked at me while I whaled on them. "I'm 37 F*cking weeks pregnant! I haven't eaten anything other than a granola bar since 8am...!!! I have four summer tires still in the trunk of my F*cking car that I need to move into my shed and I AM NOT GOING TO PARK ANYWHERE BUT RIGHT OUTSIDE OF MY F*CKING HOUSE...YOU HEAR ME????!!!!!"
The men politely moved so I could get my car in the spot I wanted. They were speechless.
I didn't apologize. I just grabbed my groceries, gym bag, purse, Emile Henry lasagna pan (that was at my in-laws house from Sunday night dinner), and I waddled into my house.

So my day sucked. There are going to be lots of days that suck.
I also have a lot to be thankful for intertwined into my sucky day. The main thing I would like to get across is that I am so thankful that my car is as safe and sturdy as it is. Although Saturn is no longer a car company (hence why we got mine so cheaply), I am proud to say that Alex and I couldn't have purchased a more reliable and safer car. I feel good knowing that I'm going to be safe in my tank with 'Peanut'.
I forgot to mention that I've been in a major car accident in a Saturn before and it saved both the lives of me and my Mom. The car didn't hold up so well but my Mom and I walked away from the accident with bumps, bruises, a perfectly broken nose (right on alignment), and a little PTSD (that wore off once I got my license). The accident was pretty severe and the fact that my Mom and got away from that experience with just bumps and bruises says a lot about the safety of our vehicle. It sacrificed itself for us and my hat goes off to Saturn for building not one amazing car for me but two.

The next time you see my little red tank, you should know that like its owner (and the baby inside her), although we may look small we are exceptionally resilient and tougher than we seem. We can handle the bumps and bruises of a sucky day but please don't present us with people working on our street. That's where we draw the line.

Monday, November 14, 2011

Been Formally Granted the Right to Eat Everything in Sight!

So, as you all know, I LOVE to eat. Eating is probably my most favourite activity...ever.
I understand the consequences of overeating (being a personal trainer and all). For my pregnancy, I'm embracing the idea of doing what I love to make me feel good. And I feel like eating.

My pregnancy books tell me that near the end of my pregnancy, I may loose my appetite or be unable to manage large meals because of the lack of space in my abdomen. At 37 weeks, this has not yet presented itself as too much of a problem. I can't eat TONS of food all at once, but over a longer period of time, I can manage a plate full of lasagna followed by salad, ice cream, pie, and rice pudding. Om nom nom!
The good thing about this is that I stopped feeling ravenous at weird hours and I'm managing to pack away enough calories to fuel myself and 'Peanut' through the last few weeks of our intimate time together.

I am also eating much more frequently which is holding the heart burn at bay and allowing for lots of variety. It is always recommended to eat smaller, more frequent meals for any and all cases. This way, ravenous hunger never takes hold and one has less of a chance of over-indulgence.

My biggest problem, these days, is the actual quality of food. I've clearly had too much sugar and I know it. Sugar is all my body wants to eat. I just want to carb-out on anything sweet and cakey.
This is where the celiac disease come in handy. Instead of sending Alex out to get cake, I actually have to commit to making cupcakes or buying overpriced, Gluten-Free goodies. Candy is not something I have been craving either so the task of satisfaction gets much harder to fulfill.
My parents have been sympathetic to my cravings and so GF/Vegan cinnamon buns and GF cherry pie has been hoovered with great success over the past few weeks. Alex, on the other hand, has been quiet (GOOD) but skeptical about the goodies. He's taken the approach of "Please do not feed my wife sweets unless she is holding you up at gunpoint!"
It's not about my weight. It's about the 'Crazy!'

When my sister and I were little, my parents, limited our sugar intake. People would offer candy and chocolate to us and we would politely decline with, "We can't...it makes us crazy".
For the most part, my parents were right. Sugar does make kids crazy. It still makes me cry and this is why Alex tries to help me limit my intake. To this day, I'm thankful that my teeth are as lovely as they are but by not having the opportunity to gorge ourselves on candy until we barfed, we were denied a rightful passage into common sense candy/sweets moderation. Both Wendy and I LOVE candy and I LOVE cakes an cookies. In my pre-exercise days, I had been known to eat an entire batch of cupcakes over the course of an evening. For the record, I was in University and feeling pretty shitty about myself so 12 cupcakes seemed like an easy fix. This emotional eating was replaced by masochistic exercise. (Also occasionally harmful but allowed for me to eat so it isn't all bad).

During pregnancy, I have found that the ups and downs of my emotions have fuelled justification for cookies and cupcakes. For my sake, I have tried to be cautious about over-indulgence and adhered to a very strict exercise schedule. I find that if I work the sugar out of my body with exercise, then there is less of a chance for 'Crazy'. The endorphins work as a counter balance to the 'Crazy'.
Thankfully, I've been feeling good enough to be able to balance my munchies with some endorphins and a good sweat.

Now about the weight:
I've gained 30lbs of baby-weight.  I will probably have it just like everyone else. It will be a struggle to loose... also, just like everyone else. The way I see it is a bit different than how everyone else does. I have plans to try and get back into shape after my pregnancy for my sanity rather than my body.
Physically being my former self is not something that I need to aspire to be. I am about to be a new mom. I will have done the greatest, most amazing miracle with my body. I will have given the gift of life!
If I have a few extra pounds as a permanent side effect, so be it. My body will never be the same. I will have done the ultra-maration of labour and birth. Physically my body may look a bit deflated and puffy and my "woman-business" may never be the same; but psychologically, I will have a whole new tolerance for pain and patience.

So, I like to eat cake. So, it made me a little rounder. I know that before I begin my birthing journey, I'm proud of my body for all the neat things it does and has let me do. As long as I am healthy and comfortable in my skin, weight is immaterial. Anyway, confidence is way more attractive on me than any pre-prenatal outfit and I'm hoping to sport it for many many years to come. It's not what I look like on the outside, it's how I feel on the inside. Right now, I feel like I could use another slice of cherry pie.

Sunday, November 13, 2011

Either My Arms Are Too Short, Or My Belly and Ass Are Too Big

It took eight months to look like this; I can only expect that it will take eight months to not look like this. 
This morning I realized that I am officially having trouble doing simple tasks. I already know that tying my shoes is tricky and that getting up and down from a seated position on the couch involves help (or a prying stick). These are small potatoes compared to the harsh reality of not being able to reach your own ass to wipe it. 
As many of you may recall, in an earlier post about Braxton-Hicks contractions, Alex was almost summoned for the unpleasant "Dooty" of having to wipe my rear-end. 
I figured that it would be a one-time thing and that I would be able to get through the rest of my pregnancy without ass-wiping assistance. Well, it looks like those days have come to an end. I still haven't asked him because I still don't want to ruin his life. I'm going to push on through and find a way to do this without help (or falling on my face). 

Cats are great examples of how to manage independently. They are agile and they can solve pretty much all their problems instinctively. They don't have opposable thumbs so grabbing toilet paper and wiping their rear-ends is out of the question. Instead, they use their tongues as toilet paper (which is out of the question for me for more than the fact that I can't reach). 
When cats have something stuck to their rear-end fur they do this little scoot across the floor and use the momentum of their bodies to wipe their asses across any flat surface. Although gross and a pain to clean up, this method is VERY effective for Marley and he can get anything out of his ass with enough scooting. 
For me, this would probably cause Alex more emotional and psychological harm to see than coming over to the washroom and politely wiping my ever-so-hard-to-reach bum. The image of me wiping my bum across the floor is a good one though and I hope you all enjoy that!

Ass-wiping aside, other simple tasks have become tricky; such as picking up the MANY MANY things I clumsily drop and even getting in and out of Alex's car. 
Everyone I see asks me how far along I am. I proudly say I'm at the top of my ninth month. With that response, most people react by saying, "Oh, you're so small!". SMALL! ME! 
I can't be small. I have a 6lb baby inside me. There is nothing small about that! I can't see or reach my toes! 
In all fairness, there are many women out there who look way bigger than me, but I can only assume that they were bigger from the start. I'm not that big a person. Without the watermelon in my tummy, I measure in at about 5'4 and close to 140lbs (of solid muscle!!!!). I have short arms and legs that, although mighty, have made it possible for me to have all my pants altered and the need for me to constantly roll up my sleeves. The short limbs haven't changed in my pregnancy, which is mighty unfortunate. At a time when everything seems to get bigger (even my feet), one would only wish that their arms would also engage super-human growth so that at least I can reach to wipe my own ass. But no. I am doomed to look like a snowman for at least another four weeks (and find a creative and functional method to wiping my bum). 
After that four weeks, I will be able to reach any and all asses that need wiping; especially the cute one on 'Peanut'. :)

Thursday, November 10, 2011

Oh Mystical Marley, Tell Me When I'm Going to Go into Labour!

I think there is something wrong with my cat.
Don't worry! He's purrrfectly healthy and seems fine to the untrained eye. What I've noticed is that his behaviour has changed (ever-so-slightly). For the last two nights, he slept with me for what seemed like the entire night, both times. Each time I would get up to pee (which is fairly often theses days), he would come and snuggle or sit by my feet.
For most cat owners, this would seem like a lovely sign of kitty-cat affection. For me, this is strange.
As many of you know, Marley is not a nice cat by any stretch of the imagination. He bites and swipes. He also is known for chomping at both my and Alex's feet while we sleep. Marley is not an affectionate cat. He is a terror who believes that he is king of his domain and that his human, Alex, was put on this Earth to play and snuggle with him exclusively. I'm not his human. In fact, I'm his roommate. Sure we get along and often times I make sure that he has some food to eat; we chat too, but overall, my cat and I have a business relationship. I give food; he doesn't bite me. A win-win!

Having a business relationship with anything is pretty great. There are clear boundaries and no one gets hurt (literally with chomp marks or a smack on the head).
The only problem with a business relationship is when one party of the relationship decides to change it up. In this scenario, Marley has made the executive decision to take our relationship to the next level. I have been followed around the house constantly, slept on, and begged to be picked up (with howling cries).
Looking at this as strictly business, I would be wise to ignore these cat-passes and carry on. Instead, I have sent in a formal complain to the HR department of our residence, Alex. Like many HR departments, unless I'm filing a sexual harassment complaint, this complaint will go both unheard and ignored. Alex actually thinks that Marley's newfound affection for me is nice. I would too if Marley wasn't MY CAT. I'm on to him. He knows something I don't.

Last night, I was training with Sam (my friend and Alex's cousin), when I explained Marley's strange behaviour to her. She mentioned that animals often have senses that we can't detect and that maybe Marley knows that I'm going to have this baby soon. Good! Finally! Wait...uh oh!
'Peanut' isn't due for another four weeks and I have a few things to do before that (not a lot of things, mind you but a few things). One of those things is to move Marley to my Parents' house. If Marley can sense the approaching labour and delivery, maybe I want him around for a while longer? Do I believe that Marley can sense that? Should I pack my hospital bag and get my birth plan printed? Is the NBA lock-out going to last much longer? (Important questions that I should ask my cat).

In a previous post I wrote about my clairvoyance symptom of pregnancy. It would really come in handy now (that's for sure). It works for others but I have yet to experience the benefits for myself. Understanding Marley shouldn't be something worth looking into. He is just a cat after all. I could get him into one of those hamster balls and have a cat-ball that may be able to tell me the future when I look into it; but I suspect that if I did that, my future would be full of chomps, swipes, and angry meows (once he was freed from his captive magic ball of course).

As for me, the excitement of being a new parent is mounting and I'm sure I'm driving Alex crazy. Lucky for both of us, we still have a few weeks of calm before the storm.
I've done pretty much everything I ever wanted to do (without children), so I'm feeling pretty confident that the next chapter of my life will be fulfilling and rewarding.
People have told me that Alex and I should 'get out' and go to movies and do all the couple things that we aren't going to have time to do. Alex and I have been together for ten years. TEN YEARS! If we needed to get something out of our systems before children, I'm 100% confident that we have. We've both travelled (I even went to New Zealand for a month without him and jumped out of a plane and off a cliff-IN THE SAME DAY). I'm set. Our lives will change with the introduction of a new baby but all of this is going to be change for the best. We are both ready to take on this new adventure (but we still believe that no one is ready for what the adventure brings...like all that poop!).

I'm hoping that Marley can sense the goodness of the next chapter of our little family's life rather than the anxiety and imminent freaking out I plan on doing. If he's anything like Alex, Marley is taking his calm and 'happy kitty' cues from my spaz-like behaviour and is doing his best to calm me down.
Maybe my business relationship with my cat is evolving? Maybe he knows that now, more than ever, I need a cuddly friend? Let's hope.

Tuesday, November 8, 2011

I made it through 8 months of teaching Attack pregnant; now for the hard stuff!

So yesterday I taught my last Body Attack class.
As mentioned in my Facebook post for today, I am pretty sad to be giving that class up. The members were amazingly supportive and always happy to participate. Even when the workout was brutally hard, they kept moving and never complained.
For anyone who has never taken a Body Attack class before, you should know that it is NOT easy. It is a sports-based cardio workout that builds stamina and strength. There are moves that are extremely difficult for the novice exerciser and to top it all off, there is no stopping. Of course there are lower impact options so that anyone can do the class safely but even without the impact, the workout is hard.
To top it all off, the program directors of Body Attack have added strength tracks into the workout so you get a full body experience. There are push ups, lunges and abdominal work as the piece-de-resistance.
I have been teaching this program for about two years now. I'm trained to coach my members to help them achieve their fitness goals week after week. Throughout my pregnancy, it got really hard to talk and teach but this is what I have trained to do.
I've been really lucky to see improvement in many of my consistent members and I'm so proud of them for pushing themselves to achieve their fitness goals.
As for me, I honestly didn't think that I was going to make it until one month before my due date but I did.
I also achieved my goal.

People often find that they are most successful when they set goals for themselves. This rings true for fitness, education and pretty much anything. If you are dedicated to your goal, you will achieve it.
I understand that often there are hiccups/obstacles that stand between us and our goals but they are apart of the journey to accomplishment.
Sometimes the journey is wonderful and often times, the journey is a drag. Either way, we all need a path to get us to where we want to be.
My journey, for the last 8 months has been a mixed bag of emotional and physical stepping stones that I have both enjoyed and despised. For example, being pregnant has been great for writing about. There are endless topics I could dote over (some icky but most funny). On the flip side, pregnancy has also been a harsh realization that my body doesn't work the same way it used to and my ever-expanding-stature makes me very uncomfortable physically (I can no longer tie my shoes).
I've been told to enjoy it. I try to. Every time 'Peanut' kicks, I admit that I get excited thinking about the end product of my pregnancy; baby. My baby.
Eye on the prize.

Lucky for me, my prize is due in exactly a month. I have four more weeks of waiting and then I will have my world turned upside down for the best.
I would like to say that I'm ready. I'm ready to evict my womb-squatter and tie my shoes again but is anyone ever ready for their first child?

Last night, Alex and I were discussing our neighbour's new arrival and how the baby was born a few weeks early. Alex admitted that their situation hits close to home (duh, I'm having a baby soon too). What he meant was that we could go to sleep, the two of us, any night in the next four weeks and by the following morning, we could be parents. I think he was a bit freaked out by the notion that we are so close to a lifetime of responsibility that we could never imagine. The good news is that we are in this together.
Whatever our journey has in store, neither of us are going to be going at this alone.
'Peanut' is our ultimate goal. The journey to get to 'Peanut' (although coming to a quick end) has been rocky at times but overall healthy and entertaining to say the least.
Where we are about to achieve one goal of a healthy baby upon delivery, our new journey as parents is about to begin. Time to set some new goals.

Monday, November 7, 2011

The pregnancy symptom the books will DEFINITELY not tell you about: Psychic Powers!

I would like to begin this post by formally congratulating our next-door neighbours. They welcomed their second child this past weekend. :)
He was supposed to be born the week after 'Peanut' but as we all know, this is an exciting world and he couldn't wait to come out and enjoy it.
'Peanut', on the other hand, is going to have to wait.  Once 'Peanut' comes out though, it will have an instant friend who lives just next-door.

The 'Peanut' update goes as such:
I'm in my 36th week; today is my final Body Attack class before I go on Maternity leave; I'm SUPER uncomfortable doing everything except eating; and I'm psychic.

Over the last couple weeks, I've been training two wonderful women who have been waiting the unfortunate news of their friend's mother who was in palliative care. While I was training Erika, I asked if she has heard any news on her friend's mother. Just as I asked, her cell phone rang and sure enough it was Jacqui (the other woman I train) delivering the heart-breaking news that the mother had passed away. I felt creepy for asking about her just a moment before but Erika was glad I was there for support and hugs. My condolences go out to both of my clients and their friend's family.
This strange psychic power didn't end there.
Believe it or not, I predicted that our neighbours had had their baby on Saturday night.

Alex and I were hanging out in the living room and watching the neighbourhood activities when we saw the neighbour's car pull into a parking spot without them in the car. The woman driving looked like one of their parents and I said to Alex, "they had the baby". He was skeptical. The parents' could have just been borrowing the car for the weekend. It wasn't until I saw the neighbour's daughter with her grandparents that I was 100% sure that (not only did I have special powers) but that the baby was born.
I get it. The whole scene did look obvious to me but it definitely didn't to Alex. He didn't think we needed to analyze the scenario that deeply. Who said anything about deep analyzation? I just made a prediction THAT WAS TRUE! Spooky.
Alex left me a note this morning confirming that the baby was born and THAT I WAS RIGHT!

Psychic powers are not (in my opinion) reliable or even something that I would strive to hone as a skill. Please don't ask me when you are going to die or what the future has in store. I feel like if my predictions are wrong then I will be lying to you and I don't want to do that.
Also, as weird as the last few days have been, I have no other explanation than to describe myself as psychic (even though I know I'm not).
If I was really psychic, then I would be able to predict 'Peanut's' arrival. I'm forecasting December 11th but I doubt it will be true (it better not be! I want this baby out NOW!) If it is, then you can come to me with your questions about the future and I will gladly bust out my crystal ball and let you know when the end is nigh.

Tuesday, November 1, 2011

Here we are at week 35!

Good news everyone!
By the end of next week, I will have made it to 'full term'!

Doctor's say that 'full term' is categorized as 37 weeks. Personally, I feel like I was at 'full term' ages ago.  I understand that 'Peanut' isn't quite cooked yet, but one would think so after the nightly acrobatics show Alex and I get to watch.
My stomach has distended (but not to the point where I'm enormous). We can see kicks and rolls and begin to identify parts of 'Peanut'. Last night we saw a foot and an elbow. I know it sounds like a scene from "Aliens", but its actually kind of cute.
My stomach on the other hand, is not cute. I don't have stretch marks but I do have a weird dark line bisecting my entire abdomen. On top of that, being part monkey, I have a serious line of dark hair to cover it up. Yikes. The worst part about it is that I can't see past my belly button so I have to rely on the mirror to show me the reality of my tummy. I've actually been standing, looking in the mirror, and wondering if the mirror just needed a good clean or if my tummy actually looked like that. I cleaned the mirror and yes, my tummy does look like that.
No one tells you that your stomach is going to look as weird as it does but they do tell you that the dark bisecting like (linea negra) goes away. Fine. I doubt the hair will disappear but that's what wax is for.

At 35 weeks, the weird looking belly isn't what's got me creeped out. I admit that it is different and definitely something to get used to. What really gets me are my feet.
I have never understood the reality of cankles until last week. Also, my little piggies have decided that they want to bust out of their casing and I have over-cooked sausage toes.
I'm aware that most of this is the result of water-retention and over-exertion but man do my feet feel weird.
After 35 weeks, I've seen my body do a whole lot of bizarre things and I know that it is just going to keep getting stranger but having swollen feet is (for me) by far, the most unpleasant thing to happen. I don't even mind the lower back pain or the cramps, the swollen feet have to GO!

I tell my clients that they should always be wearing sensible shoes and train in really good running shoes. Everyone should have at least one pair of shoes specifically fitted to the needs of their activity and foot-type. I change my runners every 3 months. Yes, 3 MONTHS! It gets expensive, no doubt, but physio is also expensive and I have no patience for injuries as a result of improper footwear.
Being pregnant has slowed my shoe shopping down a little. I still bought myself new runners two weeks ago to get me though the next month and the beginning of my postpartum adventure.
So far, I'm still suffering from puffy toes and swollen legs but at least the shoes are fun and the fit over any and all swelling.

As for the rest of me, I'm still feeling good. I could nap anywhere and at any time but I was like that even before I was pregnant.
The official countdown is on!