Danke.

Turkey Day is around the corner and on Thursday, while I have much to be thankful for I am not doing a damn thing. And for that I am most thankful. We will begin a Turkey Day tradition of going for a run and later in the day head to a friend’s home for dessert, but those are the only two items on the Vaughn agenda. I love it.
The last several weeks have been exhausting and overwhelming but now that the Dallas Opera season has quieted down for a bit, I was able to enjoy a full two days off over the weekend. Nana flew in from New York to meet Marigny for the first time and we had a wonderful time. It is amazing to think that Nana was meeting the daughter of her son’s daughter. Three generations of Draper blood were sitting pretty in the Vaughn house and the feeling of family and connection that it sparked in me was astounding. I have decided that one of my projects over the next several months (years) will be to put together the family tree so that Marigny as she gets older will know exactly where she came from and so that I may learn where I came from as well.

Aaah! This sentimentality is a strange feeling for me to experience, but it makes me feel warm and fuzzy.
Truth be told, I am not totally escaping from Thanksgiving, the food beckons me too strongly. Friday Mom flies into Dallas and we will be doing a day after Turkey day feast and will be setting up and trimming the very first Christmas tree Zach and I will have had in our home. I am so thankful to be able to share this moment with mom as she shares it with Marigny. Plus I am just so happy that my mom will be in Dallas for a few days so that we may hang out. We get along really well, warped humor and all.
What it all comes down to is that there is so much to be thankful for that thank you does not fully express the feeling.
I am thankful for (in no particular order):
Abita Amber
The Saints
Warped humor
Good friends
Munch
Running
Thundercats
Scrabble
Family
Amazing step-kiddos
A truly spectacular husband
Marigny

A Woman on the Verge

2010-2011 The Dallas Opera Opening Night
photo credit Amber Starling Photography



Shame on me, it has been awhile since I have posted anything. Life is a bit crazy right now and upon returning to work from my non-maternity leave maternity leave (I’ll spare you the details), I was faced with a massive undertaking also known as Opening Night. Holy moly, I thought last year’s opening night was difficult, but in all honesty it had nothing on this year’s festivities. It shouldn’t have been as much of a trial as it was, but there were a few elements this year that made it quite challenging.
I will stop with the work chatter, but here’s the deal: working and having an infant and two step children is really really hard. Harder than I ever imagined. I am sure you are thinking how hard can it be? You only have Grayson and Avery every 1st, 3rd, and 5th weekend, it’s not like they are there all the time. But that is just it, they are not here all the time, so every time I get into a rhythm with Marigny and work that rhythm gets broken up by the weekends we have Grayson and Avery, and once they leave it takes a week to re-establish said rhythm and there is no recovery from the amount of work that the weekends with the kids require. It is a never ending cycle of attempts at and interruptions of a routine and I am exhausted.
I am a woman on the verge of a nervous breakdown and I think I need help. Usually running would help me out, but I have been sick since October 6th and my energy levels are so depleted that some days I can barely go up and down our stairs. I intended to run this morning and woke up, fed Marigny, went to get dressed in my running clothes and could barely lift my arms over my head to put my dri-fit shirt on. Pathetic. I am a sad and sorry case at the moment and I am not sure that there is anything that can be done about it. I will try to run this afternoon, but by the end of the day usually whatever energy I did have is completely depleted. My sanity needs a good strong run, not so sure my body or lungs can handle it…
Here’s a positive: I am flying to New Orleans tomorrow to celebrate Mom’s 60th birthday (November 5th) and I could not be more excited to go. I am sorry that Zach and Marigny won’t be joining me, but thrilled at the alone time that I will be able to have with Mom. Well, until Billy baby starts a-callin’. But I will take whatever I can get!
I would be remiss if I did not mention what a tremendous day November 3rd was as it was Zach and I’s 3 year anniversary. He is definitely the best of me and I could not be more thankful for all that he does for me.
Sorry for the depressing blog post…but here is a picture of Marigny which is something that always cheers me up.

The Many Face of Marigny Jean

My friend Amber took these amazing pictures of Marigny a few weekends back.

The new normal

I have been putting off posting. Why? I am suffering from a severe case of bloggers block. Plus life is pretty overwhelming at the moment. I admit that I may have been a bit unrealistic in thinking that I would just have a baby and everything would go back to normal. I foolishly thought that after Marigny was born everything would be just as it was, just with a baby. When I say everything, I mean everything, work, running, body, life, you name it. I have since learned that things do not just bounce back to the way they were previously.

The new normal.
It is a normal where I get very little sleep.
It is a normal where being able to cook dinner uninterrupted is a triumph.
It is a normal where a four miler is a big accomplishment.
It is a normal where my boobies are a good three sizes larger and a measured six inches lower than where they began.
It is a normal where the highlight of my day is picking up Marigny from Nana Erla’s.
It is a normal where the smallest grin can brighten an entire morning.
It is a normal where bodily functions no longer terrify and disgust me.
It is a normal where I have no problem whipping out the aforementioned larger and lower boobie when I need to.
It is a normal where I sympathize with parents who travel or really, go anywhere with children.
It is a normal where a trip to the grocery store for a gallon of milk is an enormous undertaking.
It is a normal where I am ten pounds heavier than the number on the scale that usually makes me freak out, which means I am twenty pounds heavier than where I began.
It is a normal where when I look at Marigny I totally forget about that weight.
It is a normal in which I feel happy regardless of how little sleep I got, how difficult a run was or how trying work was.



The new normal suits me.

MJ has taken over my life- part deaux

Holy moly. I am a mom. M-O-T-H-E-R. How utterly surreal and indescribably amazing, MJ has taken over my life and I love it...99.8% of the time, the late nights can be painful and the mirror is not my friend at the moment. I feel like this blog post is supposed to tell you the birth story, but that may border on Too Much Information and I would rather just hit the high points. Went into labor the night before the scheduled c-section. Kept the scheduled c-section time as the labor only made progress in regards to pain. Marigny Jean Vaughn was born on June 16, 2010 at 9:04 a.m. with a full head of hair, weighing 8 pounds 8 ounces and 21.25 inches!

She is exactly six weeks old today. It is amazing what a blur these last few weeks have been. Amazing that I can go on such limited sleep. Amazing that we have daughter. Just flat out amazing overall.

MJ has taken over my life

And as proof here is some video but no diatribe from me.
That is soon to follow. Maybe.

MJ Grin







MJ Milk Punch Drunk

Marigny Jean Vaughn the early days

Here is the link to our web album for MJ...

And the months come to a close

So here we are, one day before I go in for my scheduled c-section, and there are a million thoughts running through my brain. Some are panicky, others are excited, and one disappointed.

Panicky because life as I know it is about to make a drastic change, one that is hopefully for the good. But change is always hard, but as they say it is also the only constant. Did I really think things would stay the same forever, even with a baby? Nope. Panicky, because, can I do this? Can I be a mom? Can I think about someone other than Zach or myself? I like being selfish.

Excited because after 9 months of gestating this bambino, I will finally see the outcome of all this exhaustion and effort. And I will finally know if this is a little Zach or a little Morgan. Excited because I am starting a whole new chapter in my life. Yes, this one hits both the panicky and excited feelings.

Disappointed, because more than anything I wanted to have a vaginal birth (yes, I said vaginal), but for some health complications a scheduled c-section was deemed safest for momma and baby. At least the doctor gave me a few days to try go into labor.

Unfortunately, my darn body is just as stubborn as the brain in it. For me it isn't the c-section that intimidates me so much as the recovery from it, as I am so ready to get back to running and I know how hard it can be to get started again even without having to recover from surgery. That and I wanted those darn prenatal yoga classes to pay off. Oh well.

Tomorrow at 6:30 am we are set to arrive at Labor and Delivery and at 8:30 am the doctor is going in for Baby Vaughn, so I should have a baby in my arms by 9:30 am...and I will be a mom. Wow. Zach and I will be parents. Not just one of us as a parent and the other as a stepmother, but parents together.

Just breathe Morgan.

Throughout this pregnancy I have said and done things I never thought I would say or do....here is a list of the top ten.

10. Own a book called "The Womanly Art of Breastfeeding"

9. Rename something already as gross as mucus plug to "vag snot"

8. Not recognize my own breasts...I will not get into any further detail here

7. Discuss Daycare

6. Have a car seat base in my car weeks before Baby Vaughn's arrival

5. Buy cloth diapers like they were stilettos

4. Visit a baby based website multiple times a day

3. Get excited about decorating a nursery

2. Weigh as much as I do right now and still sometimes be able to look in the mirror

1. Be excited about being a mom

The next post really will be the Vaughn of a new day.

Thanks for all your support and future offers to babysit!

Nursery Corner Pictures

The nursery corner is pretty much complete!
Zach finished building, yes with his bare hands and some wood working tools, the changing unit and it is sanded, stained and lacquered up! It is beautiful, he really did a spectacular job.

3 Furlongs to go

Or in non-racing terms, 3 weeks give or take a few days. I feel like I am cramming for exams, something at which I have never been very good. Here I am with three or so weeks left and am quickly trying to read and retain all of the information that should have been read months ago. I must say, I have learned some things that I never anticipated, for instance, did you know that circumcision is not actually a surgery that is medically necessary.
Who knew?
Yeah, I am sure that some of you out there were aware, but not I. This brings up the question, if it is not medically necessary then why do it?
There are two main reasons to do it, religious and social. Sure, people say that it is cleaner, that it inhibits the spread of STDs or that not doing it increases the risk of penile cancer. Yes, I typed penile and giggled while doing so. But the whole penile cancer risk is a whopping 1% to begin with, the cleanliness thing is proven to be untrue and the STD thing has some small and rather unconvincing medical case studies backing it...thus bringing it back to the whole not a medical necessity thing. This is the problem with becoming informed, it now becomes a decision that Zach and I have to make if little Baby Vaughn is a he. The social reasons for doing it are strong, as those who have had a "little taken off the top" certainly are in the majority in this country, and would other kids make fun of him in the locker room? And if so, what are they doing examining those parts so carefully anyway? I digress. For me, what it boils down to in the end is do we scar him now or scar him later? Who knows...it makes me kind of hope for a girl.
Enough penis chatter. Hee hee.



Not to say thank you in a post that has been filled with my new found penile, hee hee, knowledge, but I want to say thank you to my good friends Corinne Hufft, Rebecca Gibson and Krissy Barker for throwing me a fabulous and low key baby shower on May 1st, yes, Kentucky Derby Day. It was wonderful and in spite of initially feeling totally awkward about opening presents in front of others, I had a great time.

One Month

36 Weeks


One month.
Holy moly.

I keep telling myself to breathe, that a month is actually a long time...I am totally kidding myself.
I have plenty of time to finish everything that may need to be finished before I hop on a completely different road than the one I was on before, right?????


Am definitely kidding myself. By the time I get home from work I am too exhausted to do much of anything and with my super generous family, friends and co-workers baby Vaughn has received some amazing gifts...much of which has joined the ever expanding laundry pile. Small clothes are easy and quick to wash and dry but much more difficult to fold than adult clothes. But darn it, some baby clothes are just utterly adorable. The fact that they are so adorable helps to justify not finding out the sex of little baby Vaughn, because I think I could do some serious damage in the Mini Boden catalog. I digress.

One month...I am hoping that I am so distracted that in no way will adorable baby clothes be on the forefront of my brain.

One month...Holy moly.
Just saying it causes my heart to race a little...to panic. I am so excited, but oh-so terrified too. I have a couple of friends who have given birth in the last two weeks, or in the case of one are in the process of doing it as I type. In some ways I am totally jealous, but then I remember that I am still totally unprepared, at least in some regards.

Packing for one.

And by the by, if another person asks if I have packed my hospital bag I may scream. Because no, I have not packed it...I have asked friends to advise me and they have done so fabulously, but something keeps me from actually going through with it. Why? Because I can't seem to wrap my head around packing to go to the hospital. I get packing to go to the beach...to go skiing...to go to wine country, but there is something about packing to go to the hospital that completely freaks me out.
It means it is real. It means that soon I will be a Mom and how does one really prepare for that? I mean, packing a bag doesn't even come close to really preparing you. AAAAHHH!

Rebecca, I hope you have a packing matrix for this "trip!"

Nursery Corner in Progress

This is more of a visual post rather than my usual written one.
Work has been very busy the last two weeks and I am plumb tuckered out.

So the crib images have been previously posted, so here is the slow continuation of the nursery corner's progress.
The beginning:


The middle:


The end is not yet upon us....but I have 35 days.

Top 10 things to do when you are a pregnant insomniac

10. Read a book

9. Take a hot bath

8. Ponder eating much of what is in the refrigerator

7. Wish those you were playing Scrabble with on Facebook would take their damn turn

6. Surf the web for random things that pop into your head, ex. "Cat sweaters"

5. Pity yourself

4. Pity your husband who has to deal with you the next day

3. Pity your co-workers for the same reason as above

2. Watch late late night/ early early morning television programming

1. Re-evaluate contents of refrigerator and whether you should or should not eat everything in it

So close yet so far away

33 Weeks

Time usually moves so quickly, so how is it that it can also go so freakin' slow?
On the work front, I have so much to do but only seven weeks to do it in...on the baby front, I still have seven weeks (at least) to go and am starting to feel that nesting thing, though I would prefer to call it design intervention. Etsy is one of my favorite websites to find really creative handmade nursery gear. We bought the coolest mobile, that I foresee using in different areas in the house once the crib is outgrown. I am not yet going to post images of the nursery corner as I am going to wait until it is completely done! I will say, that having to be relatively immobile makes it hard to go arrange and rearrange the nursery corner and I need to wait for Zach to get anything done that involves movement or exertion or really, getting off the couch. So everything.

In spite of everything I can no longer do, I am feeling very lucky that things have progressed as smoothly as they have and now realize not to take everything for granted.

Thanks to a friend's introduction I am slowly but surely becoming more knowledgeable about the whole cloth diaper thing, so thank you Sarah Schultz for introducing Emily and I. A year ago if you had told me that I would be excited about diapers, I would have told you that you were on crack, but lo and behold, here I am buying diapers like they were stilettos.

Who am I?

Everything I have read keeps saying that I need to pack my hospital bag and I keep thinking that I am going to, but what the heck do I pack? It's not like going to the beach or on vacation or skiing. I mean the only thing that I have thought of that I want to bring is Scrabble...is that odd? I figure toothbrush and deodorant is a given, but what else? I mean clothes-wise, it's not like I need to plan for day trips or dinners out, so I am at a total loss. Yeah, yeah, I have read the checklists, but somehow feel that they do not apply to me. So to all those that have been through this...what did you pack? What would you have left out and what would you have included now that you have gone through the experience?

8 months

32 Weeks

Okay, I admit it, I did it to myself. This week the sciatica finally revolted. It gathered its troops, it took up arms and it came after me with a full-blown assault. During an "emergency" trip to the doctor's office on Tuesday, the harsh truth hit as I was told by the nurse practitioner, "Oh I see that the doctor has told you repeatedly that you need to stay off your feet, and can tell by the sheer fact that you are here and hobbling that you are rather active". Yep, I am busted. No more walking, no more riding on the trainer in front of bad TV, a whole lotta laying down on my left side doing nothing. Nothing is not something I am very good at nor do I aspire to be.
So really, what does this mean? It means that I am totally boring and bored. I am glued to my couch except for the hours spent in traffic, at work and in bed. Fun. But at least there is an end in sight, even if it is still weeks away.



The crib, which I have been several months tardy in posting.

I am finally reading the few pregnancy books that I have, though I am taking everyone's advice and opinions with a grain of salt as there is more than one way to skin a cat. I am afraid to become like a few other pregnant women I have recently met who think that the way they have chosen to give birth is the only way. Now granted these women have not yet been through the actual experience of giving birth, but they seem to think that they know it all already.

I think I am just going to hang back and play my hand as it is dealt, knowing my options but not being so stuck in a plan that the moment the game changes I can't just go with the flow. Yes, I know I am normally a planner, but this is something that when it comes down to it, in the end I can only control so much.

Week 30- 10 to go!!!!!!+/- 2 weeks

What a pregnant Morgan looks like when she doesn't know her picture is being taken....



Oh dear me, allergies are kicking my butt, as is the sciatic pain in my back and the damn mirror. But there is GOOD news...we went to the doctor yesterday and things seem to be a lot better than last time. Blood pressure was normal, kidneys seem to be draining, and we got to have a sonogram and see the not so little bambino. The combination of the Vaughn-Draper gene pool seems to have created a very very leggy and long child. They are estimating the baby to already weigh about 4 lbs and there exists the possibility that my due date will be moved up, but the baby will come when it is good and ready.

Okay, enough about that....



I have a confession to make: I like to watch television that one could liken to watching a train wreck where there are no survivors. My current wreck of a show is Little Miss Perfect, where our guide, a man who desperately wishes he was born a pageant worthy lady, wears eyeliner, blush and pink lip gloss as he guides us through the lives of the two contestants the show is following and also provides insight into the world of "Little Miss Perfect". Sometimes I am forced to look away...yes, the show is that good. What makes it that good you ask? The parents. The parents are unbelievable and are a reminder that no matter how bad a mother I may end up being, there is always someone much much worse. In a sick way it is comforting. Additionally, I have always been totally intrigued by the JonBenet Ramsey case, maybe its because I lived in Boulder the year following the horrific crime, but who knows, regardless, this bizarro world attracts my curiosity. I just don't get it. At all. Any way if you are at all looking for a parenting confidence-boost and have a warped sense of humor, watch this show.

One more thing, I think I am going to do the whole cloth diaper route....can anyone proved some insight?

Those dreaded words...

29 Weeks!

Holy Moly, where to even begin...since returning from the beach vacation, work has been non-stop! Unfortunately this state has caused a few problems, the first and most horrifying being the threat from my doctor of the dreaded "bed rest". Apparently my inability to do nothing and all the stress at work has caused my kidneys to retain more fluid than they should be and due to this, I have packed on the pounds in a very small window of time. The good thing is that this time she didn't interrogate me about what I was eating, but rather decided after looking at me and seeing that no weight has been gained anywhere but my belly that this is not a dietary issue, but rather possibly something else. She will decide the whole "bed rest" thing at 32 weeks, but in the meantime she has suggested that I take a few steps to prevent that happening. The first is to be like George Costanza and lay down on my left side for 15- 20 minutes 3 times a day under my desk...or to work from home the days I may in order to keep off my feet and to be able to lay down for extended periods of time. So we will see how all of this works out...things are crazy until April 1st and then I get a week or so of reprieve and only need to plan things rather than plan and attend.
I understand that stress causes many issues, but this sucks...I thought that I would have no issues working up until the day I give birth, I never really thought of myself as a delicate flower, but alas, it appears that I am. This totally undermines my street cred.

26 weeks and counting!

So I have been remiss in keeping up with the blog over the last several weeks. What can I say, Things have been rather hectic with an OnStage Dinner and then Jenn’s wedding in Tortola, I was basically running around just trying to make sure everything was done prior to our week long departure from the states. So here is a breakdown of the things that stand out in my head as being memorable/ traumatic.

#1. When I was in the 24th week, I went to see my doctor. This visit has scarred me tremendously. All is well with the bean, so no stressing on that front, but apparently I gained four lbs in four and a half weeks and the doc thought that I had gained too much weight. This is the same doctor who told me at the previous check up that over the next several weeks I would be gaining a pound a week. Well, I am no mathematician, but four pounds in four and a half weeks seems to me to be on track with what she told me. But oh no….when I asked her about it, she said well, we do say that but we don’t really mean a pound a week. Hmmmm…..she then proceeded to grill me as if she was Jillian Michaels and I was a fatty contestant on The Biggest Loser.
Fast food?
Enormous portions?
Soda?
Are you kidding me? Anyone who knows me even in the slightest knows what a freak I am about what goes into my body and what a freak I am about my weight. Needless to say I am now hyper conscious of my ever growing waistline and feel like a lard ass.

#2. Running is no longer merely uncomfortable, it hurts. This has been the most traumatic of the events that has occurred over the last two weeks. After two runs where I returned home in tears and utterly defeated by the agony, I have realized that if I am to continue to love running, then I am going to have to stop for the next 14 weeks before I run myself into utter misery.
Knowing myself as I do, I have given myself some running alternatives, though these have not been tear-free either.
The first alternate is the indoor trainer for my bike. After frustrating myself to the point of tears in trying to set up my bike on the trainer in the house, Zach swept in like a knight in shining-able-to-read-directions-armor and assembled it for me in a minute flat. Yes, this added to the frustration. Once it was all set up and secure I road happily for a half an hour while watching one of the worst shpws ever, “Little Miss Perfect”. It is one of the worst because those mothers that appear on the show are evil. Pure pageant evil. I love it.
The second alternative is going to the gym and doing the elliptical trainer for a boring and tedious half an hour. The hardest part of this one is not being totally self conscious at the gym as my dri-fit clothing is a bit snug these days. Not the most becoming, and I seem to sweat a lot these days; I think my body is just so used to being out in the fresh air that when it gets in an enclosed workout environment the sweat doesn’t dissipate at the same rate as before. I mostly feel sorry for the workout machine neighbors on that front.

#3 Went to Jenn Daul’s wedding on Tortola. This was lovely minus the whole beached on the beach thing and having to put on a swimsuit. And the sunburn. But I am happy to say that it was a once in a lifetime week that I will never forget.

So that pretty much sums up all the memorable and traumatic events that have occurred over the last few weeks. And if you are wondering where my weight gain is currently based on trauma number one, I have gained a total of 15 lbs….

Yes, I finally look pregnant

Question:
When is it okay for people to comment on weight gain?
When you are pregnant...but in my opinion, IT IS NOT OKAY.

I have to get this off my chest, so pardon me if I offend, but hearing that I look pregnant or that I am beginning to show totally pisses me off. There are many women who relish in their pregnant bellies and people's belly focused attention, but I am not one of those women. In my opinion, it is equivalent to pointing out a giant cyst-like zit in the middle of my nose. Yes, I am are fully aware that it is there, so you needn't point it out.

And yes, you may say, "But Morgan, you are posting pictures of your belly on your blog, how can you not want us to comment?"
The whole reason I am posting these pictures is so that you can make these comments out of my earshot. I figure if I point it out first, then I don't have to be there to hear about it. It is my way of pointing it out before anyone else has the chance to say it to me. Warped logic I know, but what alternative exists?

To sum it up, when you see me, don't say anything about the belly and it's growing size, I know it is there. And I know it is surprising, but please please show some restraint.

Halfway there!

So I am starting to feel more excited than terrified these days. Not that I am any less terrified mind you but rather my excitement is beginning to emotionally surpass any terror I may feel. Yippee! This is a lot more fun. But there is still quite a ways to go considering that I'll still only be 22 weeks on Sunday. 154 days down. So many to go.

I am still running, the Gabriella belly band is a lifesaver! It has earned the nickname the belly bra. Much like a good sports bra it secures rounder things from jostling too much, in this instance it's my belly.
I've kept the running up to 4 days a week but nothing that is further than 5 miles and some change. I'm averaging from 13-17 miles a week, and really just enjoying being out there, regardless of how slow I go.
Yep, I am one of those people who can now run for pleasure. The stages of running are pretty amazing, I think that this is the third stage. The first being I Can Finish, the second being I can run FASTER, BETTER, STRONGER and the third phase, wow, I think I enjoy this running just for running's sake.

So, this week I got a little dumber. I'm not quite sure what is going on but boy am I get stupid. I keep forgetting things, asking the same question 4 times, things like that. Ugh, I am hoping that this new found idiocy will pass.
So Fat or Pregnant?
Pregnant!

20 Weeks:

My Self Indugent Blog

On Wednesday, I was standing in line at the post office, waiting to buy stamps for the fabulous invite to the OnStage Dinner,when something pretty amazing happened. If I may swap sounds for feelings,I felt a whop wham boom in the baby belly area. The first recognizable baby movements took place at the Post Office, the one place where time stands excruciatingly still. It was pretty exciting and I must say that I called Zach the moment I hopped back in the car. Other than that, things have been pretty quiet.

On the running front I did get my "belly bra" in the mail. This utterly unsexy contraption supports my growing belly as I continue to run through this pregnancy. Today was the big test, as I had not used it until this morning. What a difference a little support makes. As a woman who has worn a bra I should have been fully aware of the miracle of support but regardless I was amazed at the sheer stability it gave the ever growing belly. I guess I should give the website and brand a shout out: FitPregnancy.com and this was the Gabriella band.

Pee Like a Man

DISCLAIMER:
This post has too much information. If you are easily offended by people speaking of pee pee do not read. Really, I am serious, do not read any further.

I feel envy toward the males of our species who seem to have the ability to pee anywhere, to urinate freely whenever and wherever they choose. If this pregnancy is teaching me one thing, it is teaching me to pee like a man. As the weeks pass and the sprout within continuously beats upon my ever-distressed bladder, I am learning to drop trou when and more importantly, where, the need arises. This is quite the evolution for me (see When I am wrong, I am wrong) as I have since realized and embraced the fact that a port-a-loo is not a necessity, but rather, one can pee wherever there is a spot to squat.

Case in point: Last night Zach and I went running. It was the first time we had run together in quite some time, so he was not fully aware of my change in urinary mindset that this pregnancy has brought on. We laced up, I hit the ladies room at home prior to our departure and off we went! I did not even get ten minutes down the road when the need to pee struck again. Looking around there was not a bathroom or port-a-loo in sight, our gym was still another mile up the road. Zach, in his helpful manner, suggested that I stop at the gym, he would continue on the route and then I would run back the way we came and meet him where the intended route met up with my now amended route. With this change in plans I would have lost a quarter of a mile off of my distance. Obviously, this was not a possibility. Oh, how was this going to be resolved? Wait, what was that over yonder I spotted? An ever inviting railroad track and a well hidden ditch. What more could a pregnant running girl ask for? Zach was appalled, but sometimes sacrifices have to be made and I was relieved in all senses of the word. The small joys and wonders of pregnancy!

I attended my second prenatal yoga class this past Monday, and it was a bit better than the first class. Better because we did a few more demanding moves, a squat here, a lunge there, but I was still instructed to say hello to baby. I will be in New Orleans for the third class so I am on "say hello to baby"-break for two weeks, so no anticipated vomit in the throat for at least a week.

Mamaste

17 Weeks 4 Days


Maybe I am a bit more cynical than most, but I feel like I am totally different than every other pregnant woman with whom I speak. Everyone else seems to be embracing the fact that they are pregnant. Now don't get me wrong, I am very excited to be having our little bambino, but I am not so thrilled with the actual state of being pregnant. In fact it is making me entirely miserable.
I attended my first prenatal yoga class on Monday, which I was both curious and excited about, and it was a bit disappointing. Going into it I knew that it wasn't going to be a bikram class (which I will never do again) or even power yoga, but I at least expected some sort of work out while trying to find inner peace. What I did not expect was to be told right hand over heart, left hand on baby, say hi to baby. Ugh, vomit, I think I threw up in my mouth a little when I was instructed to do so. Why did I have such a negative reaction? For the most obvious reason, baby is in my body and should be fully aware of my existence and I feel no need to have to say hello. I mean really the little sprout is inside of me, it feels my touch 24/7, why do I need to shake its hand?
I am going to give the class a chance, because prenatal yoga is well-recommended but for right now I am still a skeptic. Mamaste.