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.
Thursday, January 28, 2010
Thursday, January 14, 2010
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.
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.
Wednesday, January 6, 2010
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.
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