OK, confession, I live for people’s bump pictures. They are pretty much my favorite thing ever and my heart lets out a little squee even when it’s only some rando on Google images. Bumps/babies=highest known levels of human adorable-ness. So even though I feel a little shy about slapping my tummy all over the internet, I feel compelled to give back. Also this stuff is critical to the documentary component of the preggy journey so it’s happening. Deal with it. Don’t make fun.
Alllllright… here is our baseline. The very merry day we found out!
Ugh. If only I knew what was about to happen. The first few weeks were, umm, ugly. Not sure how to elaborate without being disgustingly TMI except to say it was a journey of 1,000 gastrointestinal nightmares and I was not sure I would live through it. I’m not being hyperbolic for once; that was literally my fear and it was awful and terrifying and I don’t even want to remember those days.
I am very lucky that although I had about 3-4 weeks of shock and awe, I miraculously started feeling a lot better right around week 8. A lot of chicks I talked to and stuff I read suggested it was common to start feeling sick at that point (hence bracing myself for my demise). I just like to think of my body as extra speedy and efficient and I hope labor follows a similar pattern.
So, yea, I found out on May 8 and started feeling better on Memorial Day weekend. In those twenty days I lost eleven pounds. It was truly horrible. So here I am at week 8 looking like freaking Skeletor (if Skeletor took awful MySpace bathroom selfies… not sure what I was thinking here).
Here was just a little bit later at 9-10ish… when I could juuuust start to make out a different tummy landscape and was feeling like a rock star.
In fact I remember the very morning this was taken. We used to live close to this really nasty yet iconic Arlington diner, and up until that point I had never gone (seriously it’s nasty, and who knows what sort of ingredients they were using behind that counter), and that morning I woke up and was all GET ME TO THE DINER BIG BOY, MAMA NEEDS SOME FRENCH TOAST. Jeff thought he had died and gone to heaven. I declared myself healed, since until that point I was lucky to stomach 3 tablespoons of applesauce per day. That french toast was SO GOOD.
The unfortunate thing is that I fell off the picture-taking wagon right around this point and missed the blossoming of my mini-bump. Something else that happened in my Summer-o-Chaos was that my mama found out she had a malignant mass on her kidney and needed some pretty serious abdominal surgery right around July 4. I’m not about to blab about her business all over the interwebs, but will tell you she is recovering swimmingly, and has been given a clean bill of health pending clear CT scans for the next few years. (High five, God!).
So July really sucked, for my mama most of all, but I spent those 4 weeks back and forth and back and forth and back and forth between DC and PA, frequently spending all weekend in PA then leaving at 5:00 a.m. to drive back to DC on Monday and go straight to work. I was desperately trying to finish up and transition at work (this all meant I was unexpectedly out of the office for 1.5 of my last 4 weeks of work… lovely). Jeff was of course up in PA the whole time working, so then I had to single-handedly close up shop at our Virginia house, etc etc etc whine whine whine.
Oh, and how could I forget this… I know it’s probably a faux pas to talk money specifics on your blog but WHATEVER… we also found out with our new insurance it was going to cost us $6,000 out of pocket to birth this baby. If ever there was a time I came closest to desiring an unattended birth in our guest bathroom, it was staring at that figure after just having walked away from our second income. Awesome!
Anyway. I spent most of June and July crying and screaming at people. I was very grateful baby didn’t have functional ears at that point. It was not attractive. Belly pictures didn’t happen.
So here we pick back up at 16 weeks! (Aww… hi, old bedroom!)
A candid 21 from vacation… this photo cracks me up!
And, catching back up to real time, here was yesterday at 23. Happy, rested, settled, long past the first trimester of horrors, my mom back to her busy bee self, and a little 1 pound 5 ounce baby having just passed their anatomy scan with flying colors hours ago. Grateful, grateful, grateful!