When you try to stage a family photo...

... on your baby's first birthday, the evening before your husband defends his dissertation, you wind up with shots like this:

I love that Emilia and Speck are in agreement about this exercise in futility and are making the same faces in the second photo to express their annoyance.

I don't have a lot of time for an update (which is why this being posted a week past her birthday) but to summarize, Chris is now Dr. Chris. Emilia is now a one-year-old. Speck and Emilia exchange kisses and snuggle up during naps which makes my heart grow three sizes. I think they've bonded over the thrill of Emilia dropping/purposely feeding Speck from her high chair. Emilia loves the gifts we gave her (Wheely Bug, Schoenhut Piano, and Sevi Xylophone) as well as the gifts she was given at her big party.

Thanksgiving remains my favorite holiday because (removed from its colonialist origins) it is about food, family, and gratitude but this year really tested that devotion. We spent too many hours of the day in the car with a cranky baby and a carsick mama, trying to see all three families. It was draining enough to do so before we had a child. Now it seems impossible. I don't think I can handle a Christmas Day like this year's Thanksgiving Day. Don't get me wrong. I want to see everyone and be together. We're lucky to have so many loved ones who are close enough to visit. But it feels so wasteful of Emilia's pleasant wake time to coop her up (and make her very grumpy) while driving three hours to and fro. It was so taxing that 50% of us had meltdowns. I'll let you guess which ones...

Over the weekend, somehow Chris finished his final dissertation edits AND helped me throw a ridiculous, over-the-top first birthday party for Emilia on Sunday. My mom and sister are creative giants and decorated the house so beautifully! And all the grandmas brought food in addition to what Chris made so we ate well. An update about that will follow soon. In the meanwhile, I am waist deep in papers to grade with no Thanksgiving break left to use. I can't believe she is already one! I can't believe Chris and I both managed to finish! Happy (belated) Thanksgiving! I have a lot to be thankful for this year and hope that despite my occasional feelings of overwhelm (and corresponding meltdowns) I never lose sight of that.

I took a brief hiatus but Emilia didn't stop growing!

Out of necessity, my blogging slowed down while I defended my dissertation and finished my doctorate. But Emilia has been busy with her own serious projects such as crawling, getting into a sitting position on her own, pulling up to stand, eating many solid foods (both purees and whole), cruising while standing, clapping, waving, pointing, hugging, kissing, paddy caking, and more!

I cannot get over how swiftly she's changing. It is remarkable and fun but of course bittersweet. Joy pours off her and she smiles with her whole body. Her laughs and purposeful snuggles are so affirming and wonderful. I had no idea that parenting would be so amazing! But it's a labor of love with challenges also.

She's teething (she has three teeth so far with more to come) and more mobile so both bring their own sets of issues. We need to baby proof. And we need to lower the crib. Again. But she has handled her tooth pain like a champ (more wakeful but not necessarily more fussy). And although she has been a little anxious if I'm not nearby when she encounters a new group of unfamiliar faces, she settles back into her usual social self upon confirmation that I'm indeed still there.

Father's Day

Chris and his dad snuggle Emilia

I've already written about dads in this space and have loved seeing Chris become a dad over the last few months (I've also loved seeing my dad and his dad and stepdad be granddads!) but I wanted to commemorate that this time last year, I gave Chris a little dad-to-be baby gift. And this year our little baby got to wear it to celebrate her dad's first Father's Day!

Thank you to the great dads (and granddads) for all that they do for their families!!

Six Months!

I am amazed by how quickly Emilia develops and changes. For the sake of documenting, I wanted to share some of her current skills.

She has much more refined motor skills than ever before. She grabs, passes, and reaches for things now. It's especially fun to watch her maneuver a food spear (since we've just started trying Baby Led Weaning).

She enjoys bath time and really loved when we took her swimming. She was splashing and grabbing and laughing with delight. 

She loves when we sing and read to her. Sometimes if she is fussing in the car, I will sing "It's You I Like" and she'll calm right down. I've been singing that one to her since she was a week old and we started reading to her around then too. I'm working on a post about our favorite books which will be up soon.

She likes Itsy Bitsy Spider and Paddy Cake. She seems less enamored with peek-a-boo but I don't do that one as often as I should.

She gives baby kisses where she basically leans into you, mouth wide open and you're left with a very slobbery cheek. But you don't care 'cause it is the cutest!

Although when especially hungry, she presumes that every part of my body might "produce" if latched, she has become very adept at tugging on the necklines of my dresses and tops. It's so interesting to see her develop a firmer understanding of where to find her food. Although rooting is a reflex that communicates the same drive, this tugging seems so purposeful. And she's been tugging at my necklines for a while now.

She has so many sounds. Consonant sounds, vowel sounds, growls, squeals, laughs, giggles, little loving grunts, and more. She babbles as though she's really giving us a piece of her mind. This melts my heart and cracks me up.

She knows her name, she knows where to look when I say "puppy," she seems to know daddy and mommy. I try to sign all of these when I say them with the hopes that she will be able to communicate back, soon. Signs I do consistently: milk, more, eat, all done, baby, puppy, and one of the most important ones: ceiling fan! From what I've read, you want to introduce signs that are helpful as well as ones that "matter" to the baby. And ceiling fan has always loomed large in Emilia's hierarchy of favorites.

She is such a roly-poly. Changing her has become challenging because as soon as I take something off, she's flipped over and is scooting away from me. When I watch her on the video monitor, I see her go back and forth and back and forth.

She prefers to sleep on her belly now and no longer gets stuck there which is good.

She loves being supported to stand. When she's standing I recite this little happy rhyme about how tall she is and she smiles and squeals. "Emilia's tall! She's not small. She's so so strong and tall!"

She does full push ups with her arms (if you are familiar with yoga, it's basically the cobra pose) rather than resting on her elbows.

She loves to sit up and can do so by herself if she starts at an angle. She can't get there from laying flat yet. But she's way less wobbly than she was even a week ago.

She kicks like a maniac, while on her back. She loves her feet. She loves to kick around while nursing which can get a little harried because... that's attached to me!!

She's just so fascinating and fun! I love getting to know her personality and feel so lucky to get to witness her develop and grow.

The days are long...

Our family on Mother's Day at Phipps Conservatory. Photo by my sister.

A few weeks ago, I read an apparently popular description of parenting: "The days are long but the years are short." I'm not sure from where the quote originated. I just know that although I had heard it prior to becoming a parent, I never really got it until now.

I've been a mom for nearly six months. I blinked and suddenly five months elapsed. But it also sometimes feels like I've known Emilia my whole life. While I am still myself and I maintain many of the same interests, desires, and goals, my life is so so different from who I was before her. My priorities are changing. The ways I use and divide my time have shifted. My body is different. My sleep schedule is different. My brain seems a little different. And of course, my days are very different.

To be sure, some of my days are difficult. Some days I long for the mundane ease of so many things I took for granted. But most days I don't have many opportunities to dwell on that subject. When I talk to seasoned moms about how I've adjusted, I say that motherhood is both much harder and thankfully much better than I ever imagined.

The days are long but the months/years are short.

Inheritance and the future

Once I knew I wanted to have a family with Chris, I began daydreaming about it... what it would be like, how our hypothetical children would look, who they would take after, etc. And when I was pregnant and this family was becoming a reality, we spoke and joked frequently about the various qualities that we hoped the little one would inherit. I said I wanted her to have my thick wavy hair and Chris's long legs. I hoped she would have Chris's work ethic and sense of optimism alongside my capacity for empathy.

Now that she is here and beginning to show more personality with every day, it is so amazing. I feel like she's a little chameleon with a face that shifts in resemblance among the faces of people I love most. I see Chris's and my mother-in-law's eyes. I see my mom's and my sister's mouths. I see my hands, my face shape, and my long nail beds.

I love seeing Emilia change and grow but it happens so rapidly. Sometimes it feels like it is happening too rapidly. For me, early motherhood has entailed this mixed bag of constant anticipation coupled with a nagging desire to slow down time. I want to savor every moment of her littleness and breathe her in each day. But I also want her to thrive. It's complicated I guess.

I asked my dad about this the other day because I was feeling especially protective of right now. I asked him if it is hard to watch your little ones grow and grow... to a point where you can no longer sweep them up and cuddle and snuggle them? The thought that she won't always fit in my arms... The idea that our physical closeness won't last forever... I anticipate the longing I will someday feel in missing those things. I imagine the longing my parents (and especially my mom) must feel for the close intimate moments with their babies. Just like one of Emilia's books articulates, you almost want to "keep them little." I knew I couldn't talk to my mom about this without sobbing like the sap that I am so I steeled myself as much as possible and said to my dad, "Is it hard to watch your children grow? In a way, don't you just want them (i.e. us) to be little forever?"

At first he joked that by the time they grow up, you as their parent badly need a break. He's right because so many aspects of this time are exhausting, no doubt. But then he paused for a moment and said reassuringly that as parents you grow with your children and whatever it is that they do in that moment becomes the best, most exciting, and sweet thing. That makes sense to me too. It has been my (albeit brief) parental experience that the stuff that I treasure absolutely corresponds with time as it elapses. But those new happy feelings don't diminish or supplant the joy felt for everything that has occurred thus far. It just makes the transitions of her growth less bitter and more sweet.

I may feel like I want to slow down time but no part of me would ever dream of holding Emilia back. I guess I am trying to say that I can and I cannot wait to see who she will be tomorrow and the next day and the next.

On motherhood and life lately

We're going on two months since birth and although Emilia's still tiny, I cannot believe how swiftly she changes. Every week brings more refined motor skills, more focused visual study, more engaged social interaction, and more chubbiness! I am soaking in every ounce because the one bit of advice I receive most is that this time goes by too quickly. "Relish every moment, good and bad."

And I'd be lying if I tried to pretend it is all good. The sleep deprivation is serious. The amount of time it takes to do once-simple tasks like run errands or straighten the house is astounding. The anxiety I feel when I lay her in the crib to nap, wondering "how long do I have?... can I perhaps shower?... should I eat something instead?" is legitimate. But the love. Holy crap the love... it is unlike anything I've ever experienced. It has at once made me more fragile and more strong. It has made me feel waves of retrospective guilt over how I've treated my own parents (especially my mother) as a teen and adult. It has made me feel more in love with my husband, even as our own dynamic adjusts to find sensible, equitable divisions of domestic labor now that we have this new person under our care.

Our new normal is more harried and less insular than it once was able to be. We let things linger on the DVR for longer. We go to bed earlier. We go out less. It's not at all bad. It's just very very different. We had nearly 10 years of just us two. So it has been interesting and sometimes challenging to carve the new normal from where we began. But I can honestly say that I wouldn't change a thing. I don't want to fast forward. I don't want to go back. Now is really truly wonderful.

We traveled for the first time over MLK Day weekend and I'll be writing about how that worked/went soon enough! The above photos are from the hotel and the National Gallery of Art in DC.

One week postpartum... birth and recovery

Above depicts almost one week but 6 days to be exact. My body is ... recovering. I am still sore. Particularly at the cite of incision (because in my birth story there was an incision).

Suffice it to say that birth didn't go according to plan. This fact becomes easier for me to confront with each passing day but that doesn't mean it is easy. At least not yet. I don't plan to post my full birth story here but the synopsis is that I went into labor at home. Began timing contractions around 2:30 am on Sunday morning (Nov. 25th). Woke up Chris at 3 when I realized that things were likely happening. I labored at home until around 10am that morning when I called the midwife on duty and my parents. My favorite memories of labor are from that period of being at home. I was having back labor and things felt really intense so Chris drew me a bath and poured warm water on me. Standing during contractions helped. Moving through contractions helped. Both of these options were no longer available once I went to the hospital, unfortunately.

Sitting on the birth ball somehow made it feel worse through my back but that was just as well. By the time I got to the hospital I was 8cm dilated. I couldn't believe it! I was still walking around and talking through contractions so I anticipated being told I was 3 or 4 cm. For this reason, I truly believe I could have made it to 10 without interventions. But my blood pressure was elevated and my heart condition caused enough concern that I was not given much choice but to receive an epidural. Had I known this decision was made for me by my care providers (who never informed me) I would have waited a little longer, hoping to get to 10. Hindsight. I wish I hadn't made such a big deal during my prenatal care about my relatively common heart condition for this reason.* Hindsight.

The story from here isn't a new or surprising one. The epidural stalled me out. Over the course of the afternoon and evening, they broke my water and I was given pitocin. Both of these things made back labor worse. And when it was time to push nothing could counteract the fact that I was completely numb in the area where I needed to feel. So my pushing was ineffective. I pushed for four hours and was told that I had failed to move her down far enough. She was also possibly sunny side up? At this point my memories become blurry. Anyway, the OB checked me and determined that Emilia and I were not candidates for suction or forceps.

So the further condensed version of all of this is that I wound up with a surgical birth. Although I wrote here many times about how I intended to be open-minded and flexible nothing could emotionally prepare me for that moment... and all the moments that it rendered impossible.

I spent my entire pregnancy envisioning that she'd come out of me and be placed immediately on my chest. I thought about whether Chris (squeamish as he is) would be able to cut the cord or if my mom would have to do it. I brainstormed what to wear so that I could as easily and swiftly as possible begin skin to skin, breastfeed, and bond with my baby girl.

It is hard not to have those memories that I anticipated with such excitement and (to be honest) certainty. It is hard to have instead the memory of a sheet in front of my face as my body was strapped down, shivering, and nauseous from all the medications being pumped into my veins. My least favorite memory of birth was hearing her cry but being unable to see her. The nagging almost primal desire to want to hold her was unlike anything I've ever felt. But my limbs were numb so holding her was not going to be an option. No one brought her over to me or lowered the curtain. No one gave us the chance to do skin to skin with our faces. Chris did get to hold her and for that I am grateful. I didn't really meet her until I was post op.  And there were no medically emergent reasons for any of these decisions except that they were hospital protocol. I wasn't aware of this protocol. My birth plan's section on surgical birth requested simple things be done to humanize the operation. Lowering the curtain, skin to skin, and other small requests I wrote in it were approved by the midwives. Had these requests been a part of my birth I am sure the hard feelings I'm having in hindsight would be less... hard.

Don't get me wrong. I am so glad we are both healthy. I am so glad to have medical care that can ensure our health and survival even if my particular birth experience felt dehumanizing and traumatic at points. Even as it hurts to get up and down, even as it hurts to twist or maneuver my body, even as I look at my body which has the aftermath of both vaginal and surgical birth to recover from, even after my milk was delayed by a day while my body took its time in recognizing that she was born, I am so so so grateful. I am grateful for this baby and this new life. I am also grateful that she was born at 12:10 am on November 26th because November 25th was by far the most terrifying day of my life. And I am lucky that its anniversary will not fall on a day I intend to celebrate fully and richly for the rest of my life.

*Even one of the anesthesiologists mentioned after the fact that the reason why my condition, called PFO isn't studied is not because it is so anomalous or unique. It's because it is utterly mundane and common. So inevitably plenty of pregnant people have had vaginal, unmedicated births with a PFO. I say this because I fear people will read "heart condition" and think my desire for an unmedicated birth is unreasonable or selfish.  

(Belated) Week 39: She's here!

I didn't quite make it to week 39. The baby decided to come early. I half expected this since I was the only pregnant woman I knew who wanted to be a few days late (for work reasons). But now that she's here, I couldn't be happier! And to be honest, it is for the best. Although I feel terrible that the semester's end was atypical for my students and I will have my lion's share of grading to plow through, remotely while sleep deprived and nursing, my physical discomforts in late pregnancy grew with every day.

Here is Emilia Irene:

I can already tell she's strong, alert, determined, and incredibly sweet. Chris and I couldn't be more proud or in love.

Family Planning

As Chris and I prepare for the impending arrival of our little one, I also find myself relishing these final weeks and moments of pregnancy. We are literally on the precipice of HUGE change, that will be both wonderful and terrifying. I dream absurd and vivid things about birth. I lay awake and wonder about life with a child. I wonder also about how it will feel to no longer be pregnant. Will I miss feeling her move from the inside? Will I miss my large, hard belly? Will I miss the positive if unsolicited attention from strangers and acquaintances?

Sure, there are some physical discomforts that seem to grow as my body does and those I will not miss. I've grown a bit tired of being the default designated driver on nights when I still have the stamina to go out. I admit that I would love to have more than just sips of wine or any other alcoholic beverage. It would be nice to eat charcuterie and pate without guilt. And I already have raw oyster and sushi plans in the works.

But I imagine (as a consummate sap), that I will look back on these final days with deep fondness, nostalgia, and perhaps even a bit of envy for the time when things were so simple. When our plans and planning were still entirely within our control. When our sleep patterns were dictated largely by our whims. When it was easy to keep the house relatively clean and in order. When "we" meant just us two. I hope it isn't wrong to admit that in anticipating even the most exciting and positive change, it can be hard not to cling instinctively to what was already "known."

Chris and I have built such a happy life together and in my perpetual state of "too many feelings" I sometimes can't believe my good fortune in having him as my partner. Of course he's not perfect (and neither am I!) but we really suit each other. It feels fitting and poignant to share this with him. When I allow myself to dwell on it, my mind is blown by the notion that we've made what will become our new family member.*

Above you see us on our second wedding anniversary, wearing one of our wedding gifts. We kept meaning to wear these matching air brushed t-shirts to Kennywood (since wearing matching outfits is a grand Kennywood tradition that we've never actually shared) but it also made sense to debut them on our "cotton" anniversary. Although we weren't able to get photos in the same spot we did the last two years, we made the most of the day. It wasn't lost on me that it was our final wedding anniversary as just us two.

Our family planning brought us here. And I am both excited and nervous about what the future brings.

*My mind is also often blown by (mostly male) politicians playing political football with reproductive rights, especially when I reflect upon all the things the pregnant body has to do and all the discomforts that women can experience throughout this process. Rather than making me question my belief in reproductive rights, pregnancy has galvanized it. That some can flippantly suggest women carry unwanted, unplanned pregnancies to term with no say in the decision has become more baffling to me than ever.

On timing

at Chris's brother's graduation (week 22)

One of the questions asked by closer friends (who are still deciding whether kids will be in the scope of their lives) has been with regard to "timing." Above everything else, the question of timing plagued us most in the process of our own family planning. Chris and I agreed a long time ago that we'd like to have children "someday." Barring the potential for fertility challenges, that agreement made our discussion as a couple less about "if" and more about "when." While the changes resultant from this decision remained firmly in the realm of the abstract, it was easy to speak of the future with confidence. "When we have a family... When you're a mom/dad... etc. etc."

This hypothetical notion of "when" orbited our lives over the last few years without any definitive reason to set deadlines or rush. "When" continued to feel slightly out of immediate reach and therefore, still a hypothetical idea rather than a reality. Hypotheticals brim with possibility and idealized future projections. They are wonderful in that regard. Realities can bring with them fears over uncontrollables and unknowns. Now, rather than speaking of "when" I become a mother with no sense of self-consciousness, I feel pangs of performance anxiety over "how" to be a mother.

As I enter my third trimester of a very wanted pregnancy, I am still not certain that the timing question was answered "correctly." I don't know that there are perfect answers to that question, particularly once a pregnancy (that has been determined to be wanted) progresses. Hypotheticals morph into imminents that are accepted with fewer theories and philosophies. Change becomes your new normal, out of necessity. But this type of acceptance isn't without its own transition pains.

Not so long ago, I was on the other end of this conversation. I asked an experienced and wise friend about the question of timing. She assured me as she snuggled her own little one that although there is never a "perfect" time, it always becomes the "right" time to have your baby. I have held onto that notion since it was articulated to me. And to this day it brings me great comfort. A wanted, healthy pregnancy and a wanted child are life circumstances around which variables seem to adapt and make room with little fanfare.

As I mentioned above, when it comes to my pregnancy I am not certain of the "perfection" of my own life's timing. I don't feel regret about the shape of things to come and I don't doubt the capacity for the love that already fills our household to grow exponentially upon the arrival of our little one. I just also happen to believe that we could have had incredibly happy, fulfilled lives as a duo. Our lives were and are very full. And on some level, the biggest barrier to our "when" was in risking the significant disruption of circumstances that have been so good for so long. But this is a decision we made, on which we were lucky enough to be able to follow through. I imagine once the dust from these major transitions settles I will think back to the anxiety I felt over both "when" and "how" with some sense of rear view amusement.

Logistically, there were a few puzzle pieces we wanted to have in place, in advance of our "when." 

We weighed our personal financial circumstances, our ages, our time together thus far, our access to health care coverage, my options for maternity leave, child care arrangements, the proximity of our families right now, our housing situation, our vehicle situation, our job situations, our life insurance policies, our desires/hopes/fears,... I could go on.

Even with all of our forethought, who can say whether the timing is perfect to go from 2 to 3? I don't know that being "perfect" matters to us as much as it used to. And something about that makes it feel really right.

Pregnancy FAQ

The news of pregnancy provokes a lot of questions from many corners of one's social world. I figured for my own archival purposes I would catalog some of the details in this blog.*

Are you excited? 
Very! This is a wanted and planned life experience for both my partner and myself.

How are you feeling?
It varies. Overall, I've been very fortunate to have a relatively low-symptom pregnancy. Occasional dizzy spells during my first trimester were solved through increased protein intake and through the body just adjusting to all the new hormones and what not. In my second trimester I have had spates of sciatic nerve pain and rhinitis that are normal if not entirely comfortable. I miss sleeping on my back and I REALLY miss sleeping on my stomach. I miss being able to work out normally (the nerve pain seemed exacerbated by the elliptical so I am swimming, taking walks, stretching, and using light free weights). But I usually feel very good. I often feel very hungry. I sometimes feel really isolated.

Don't get me wrong. I have great friends and lots of support from family. I am incredibly lucky to be pregnant when I want to be. I have health benefits that cover my prenatal care and a job that offers me a generous leave. But I still have hard days during which I feel alienated from my "old" life (not that things are that different yet). I sometimes wish that I had a local and currently-pregnant pal for venting and empathetic purposes. The isolating aspects of pregnancy can be emotionally challenging for sure. Relatedly, I've noticed that I do have more emotional peaks and valleys than usual. Some seem to correspond with expected changes/developments happening. I will admit that I don't particularly enjoy feeling like my body is not my own. Trusting in my body and accepting that it is largely beyond my control during this time presents its own intellectual challenges. But I have adjusted to most of the "new normals" of this circumstance and cannot help but feel optimistic and enthused about what all these changes will eventually produce.

When are you due? What will this mean for your career?
December. It times out nicely with the end of my term. I will work up until my due date, regardless of when I give birth in order to finish the semester for my students. If necessary I am able to have someone proctor final exams for me. I can do my grading remotely and if I have to, I can Skype into class. Although academia can be somewhat unfriendly to women starting families while they're also on the tenure track, I made this choice hoping and anticipating that my workplace and my colleagues would be supportive. They have been and for that I am both grateful and lucky. I will have the Spring term off from teaching and most of my service responsibilities. Following spring is the summer, which is a flexible time in general for my schedule. I will not be taking any unpaid time off because it is not financially sensible for my family.

Regarding my research agenda, I am working diligently to wrap an article manuscript, a conference paper (that I will develop into an additional article for submission soon after), and most importantly my dissertation before I deliver. I have a few boiler plate grant proposals that are ready to be submitted when the right opportunities present themselves. It is perhaps unrealistic but I don't intend to take the spring term off from research. Academics typically have multiple projects that are in various stages of development, able to be picked up and put down as needed. Although I expect my pace will slow, especially in those early days of motherhood, I also need to continue to be productive. My institution does allow new parents to stop the tenure clock for a year but that doesn't mean I want to have gaps in my CV.

What are you having? What do you want to have?
On July 9th, I had my level II ultrasound, during which we learned the sex (it's a girl) but more importantly, we learned that everything is developing accordingly, organs are in place, etc.  More than anything, Chris and I want a healthy child.

On one particularly unremarkable day, Chris said to me that "the perfect family is the family you have." I agree with him and believe that life's expectations and goals adapt to the family you have, both in spite of and because of its component parts. (It goes without saying but, he's seriously such a good dude.)

When did you find out you were pregnant?
I found out very early into the pregnancy because I kept a lot of cyclical data and because of the technology of today's early detection tests.  The day I found out, I wore this ensemble to campus (though the post date is weeks from when I wore it). I remembered thinking to myself that when I eventually blogged the outfit, I should title the entry "Nothing can change the shape of things to come," to reference quietly my changing body through one of my favorite (overly covered) songs. (It has the best one note solo of all time!!).

My parents react to the news. And it sinks in.

The progression from happy to OMG OMG SO HAPPY made my heart grow three sizes.

When/How did you tell your families? 
We told our families over the Easter holiday. I thought about telling them around my birthday but decided Easter gave us a bit more time to ensure things were sticking. We only told immediate family and a tiny handful of close friends until around 12 weeks, after which we had an ultrasound to confirm viability and what not. 

We told Chris's parents with greeting cards (did you know they make "we're expecting!" ones?). We told my parents through an Easter gift we gave to my father. He is a musician who teaches guitar so I purchased a book of guitar tab lullabies and inscribed it to request he, "brush up for December in anticipation of the arrival of our newest family member." It took him a few seconds before the inscription's meaning made sense. (As an aside, one of my biggest regrets was not videoing their reactions. It is a moment I'll always remember and my camera has a video function. At least I got the  reaction shots!).

What were you asked the most during pregnancy? Other than the names question, I think this covers what I've been asked the most.

*I am also keeping a private paper journal at Chris's thoughtful suggestion. One of his birthday gifts to me (which I don't believe I ever shared on Consume or Consumed because most of this year's gifts were family/pregnancy themed) was a purple, leather-bound, paper journal. He knows I am a lover of information and a closet historian. And regardless of whether this pregnancy is 'one of one' or 'one of a few,' details on my symptoms, my appointments, and my general state of mind are worth cataloging to me. Who knows? Some day one of our children might want to read it. I know I would have loved to read my mother's pregnancy journal if she had kept one. I still enjoy the extremely detailed baby book she kept for me as a child.

Nine Years

 

Photo thanks to Tien

Has it really been that long? Has it only been that long? I find myself thinking both things today, on this date we count as the one when "we" began.

Each year, it somehow gets even better to be a "we." It's amazing that you can feel so at home with someone that has known you for less than a third of your life. But he is home to me (especially if you define it as "where the heart is"...). He is a part of my family. He is my partner in life and in love. I can't wait to see him be a dad.

We've grown up a lot during the course of our relationship, but most of all we've grown together. And that is remarkable. Our ninth is poised to be another big year and I can't wait!

The worst day of my pregnancy so far...

(I looked and felt much happier by the day's end.)

The worst day of my pregnancy so far also includes one of my favorite pregnant memories.

Backstory: 
A few months ago, Chris and I took a trip to New York. We were long overdue to visit our friends! But when I bought the tickets, I wasn't yet pregnant. When I learned I was pregnant, I feared that all officially and unofficially planned trips (to San Diego and New York in the first trimester and eventually New Orleans and Orlando for conferences) would be mired with sickness, swollen feet, and discomfort. Two trips down and we survived. But the worst day of my pregnancy so far occurred during the trip to New York.

First I should say that I have been very lucky throughout this pregnancy. I am healthy. The fetus is developing healthily. I am fortunate to have great medical care and stellar insurance. I have many blessings. I also had a pretty smooth first trimester during which I was mostly just hungry and needed to eat in order to stave off sickness. Around week 5, I experienced a few dizzy spells and quickly determined that coffee and I would need to take a hiatus, but overall I was feeling good. That was until the iron in one of the two prenatal vitamins I was alternating (to be thorough) began to sit poorly with me.

I had a system where I staved off my dizzies (which besides the coffee connection, I eventually realized occurred if I hadn't consumed enough protein and/or if I had taken my iron-rich prenatal the day prior) by propping myself up before exiting bed and munching on some saltines for a few minutes. Then once I was sure-footed, I'd eat some eggs and Greek yogurt for the protein boost. Although this system was solid and able to be maintained through most of the trip, that day I waited too long to eat. And when you're traveling your schedule isn't always in your control.

Story: 
I woke up on the Friday of our trip with a lot of excitement for a bunch of plans that day. We were staying with Robina and family, as we typically do in New York. We planned to eventually meet up with friends, Jacob and Lizz to go to a museum, then round out the day with a Mets game at Citi Field. But I made the fatal mistake of not eating protein right after I woke up.

Breakfast plans were delayed and I didn't express to anyone (including Chris) that it would be to my own detriment. A headache developed along with my dizziness which transformed into nausea (something I hadn't had much of at all in the weeks prior or following).  By the time I tried eating some food, taking some medicine, and resting, it seemed like nothing could help. I was too far gone. Robina suggested some fresh air so we went to her aunt's natural food market to browse and get supplies. I wanted protein bars so that I could better manage my symptoms in the future.

We grabbed the bars and some juice and while that aspect was unremarkable, what occurred in the store has stayed with me throughout my pregnancy. I started crying (hormones and... general feelings of helpless/hopelessness over my sickness) so Robina explained to her aunt in Urdu that I was ill because of pregnancy.

Her aunt and the and the other female store clerk immediately poured out so much palpable empathy and joy that I found myself crying not only from sickness but also from the overwhelm of the moment. In that small instance I felt an intense psychic connection to each of these women wash over me... each of who had been pregnant before and each of who showered me with their happiness and commiseration. It all felt so real in an otherwise very uncertain and very abstract time of first trimester newness.

There I was sharing something both deeply personal and yet widely experienced; something both incredibly remarkable and yet entirely mundane. I felt the isolating pain of illness in the company of women who utterly understood. So there I was connecting, with two women that I barely knew and one woman who is my dear friend, in ways I hadn't previously fathomed. Suddenly, there I was feeling sick as a dog and yet somehow happy as a clam.

Sex reveal (cross posted)

I'm of the perspective that neutral baby things are ideal for first pregnancies, after all if your family expands further it is great for your items to be versatile. I also just enjoy neutral, bright colors. Pastels are pretty but in my own personal (and clumsy) experience pretty shows more dirt, spills, spit ups, and stains.

Still, I am a little too excited to keep the sex of the fetus a secret until December. And Chris and I are a little too impatient to wait for a surprise (though we admire deeply the parents who do wait! When else in your life can you experience such an incredible moment of shared surprise?!). So I am thrilled to announce what we're having (which confirms the suspicions and instincts of many of our family and friends, all along)!

My mom presented me with this bracelet that she purchased in the hospital gift shop when we were told what we're having during my anatomy ultrasound. I laughed through happy tears and asked if she had a blue one too, just in case. She said she didn't think she'd need it. Although she had a 50% chance of being right, I am still fairly amazed by her insistence throughout my pregnancy.

I still gravitate toward neutral items and (as a person mindful about gender fluidity) will be resistant to gender-normative ideas regarding character and personality traits while the fetus remains in utero and through her earliest months and years of life. But it is hard to deny the epic adorable that is girl baby clothing!

Thank you for all the kind words and messages of support along the way. It's been really heartening to hear from other women who have already begun their families, who plan to begin a family, and/or who are enthusiastic about others' choices to begin families. It means a lot to me. xo