Sunday, July 27, 2014

"full term"

Just hit the 37 week mark! Ding-ding! I'm currently watching an elbow (?) pushing what used to be my belly button out two inches. My child is clearly very creative, and has been attempting to use my belly button as her escape route for weeks. Her thinking outside the box was more amusing before 11pm last night when I noticed a silver stretch mark straight across my belly button. The abuse must stop, child! 

Other than the arrival of my first stretch mark it's been an action packed few weeks. I celebrated my second wedding anniversary, turned 31, chopped 6 inches of hair off and put platinum blonde highlights in (more on this later), finished the belly button abuser's room and had two baby showers. Not to mention wrapped up the entire marketing calendar for fall 2014, trained the team to cover my leave and directed both the studio and lifestyle shoots for ridiculous new collection. Oiselle is radness and I have three months of baby girl bonding to look forward to, but as the only me… there is a lot to get ready.

I was doing pretty well emotionally until the hair change. I don't know what my deal is, I knew I wanted to chop my hair, I've always loved having short hair. When I met Owen my hair was so short I could barely tuck it behind my ears. And it's always been blonde-blonde. But between training, working and baby cooking I'd completely forgotten my hair. It was long, shaggy and pretty much my natural color. And I was sick to death of it. Until it was gone and blonde. 

great post yoga selfie

I've been in tears off and on for three days over this change. It's absolutely ridiculous. And it's not how it looks that keeps setting me off, it's that I don't look like myself. Or the self that's been pregnant. The self I was getting used to.

And platinum blonde just isn't screaming maternal, but maybe that's okay. It's who I am. I guess I like to make things harder on myself. Like, oh, huge life change ahead, let's chop off all our hair and dye it blonde. I started to wonder if this haircut is to motherhood what the Mustang convertible is to the midlife crisis. 

The more I try to analyze this weird reaction the more confused I am. I can say two things, the words 'mom cut' will send me over the edge and two, I do think the anxiety over the transition to being a mom might have flared up over a haircut. I haven't spent enough time in therapy to know the word for that.  But it's not really the hair, right? It's that I've been a me for 31 years and now I'm about to be a me … that's a mom. 

While we're talking about it though, just real quick, "mom cut" needs to be permanently banned from the English language. Jennifer Lawrence does not have a mom cut, neither does Miley Cyrus for that matter, but if either one of these two were pregnant or moms AND got their current cuts would it suddenly be a mom cut? No really, I'm asking, I took in a picture of Jennifer Lawrence. Weird how I don't look like her now…I really thought that would work. 

Moving right along… physically I actually feel better than I expected. I did develop carpal tunnel, yes that happens. And my hands were so swollen at 34 weeks that I took my rings off and haven't looked back. It's tough now, ya know, without my wedding rings there's just nothing to keep men from approaching me. I'm like no, I'm sorry, taken. Yes, this hot bod is off the market. No you can't touch my stretch mark and yes I know this hair cut makes me look just like Jennifer Lawrence.

In the morning my feet hurt so much it's hard to walk for about half an hour. I don't know what that's about, we'll just go with swelling, loose joints and the extra 40 pounds I'm lugging around. My motto on the latter is, I'll deal with that later. I'm keeping up my walking and reasonable eating, trying to do the best I can for my little girl, and I'm just not worrying about the weight. Or cellulite. Or being passed by the geriatric crowd when I'm walking. 

I'll deal with you later… smiling New York Super Fudge Chunk

I know I have business to take care of after she arrives. More than losing 40 pounds. I'm excited to get back into fighting shape start gunning for my goals again. Even walking I can feel the fire of wanting to run as fast as I can. I dream about running almost every night. And I'm excited to push myself without worrying about anyone but me. I am anxious about not having the time. This time off running has shown me how busy I am without it… or a baby. So to add the two into the mix is daunting. But day by day. 

So yeah, 37 weeks here we go, and I will say all whining and hair cut sobbing aside, if I'm quiet I mostly feel overwhelmed with the goodness of life. Every little outfit people have picked out for her breaks my heart. It makes me proud and happy for her, that she's so loved. I feel incredibly lucky to be 31, and healthy. To have my Owen and a little house to rent and a tiny being beating my belly button up from the inside. It feels like too much good for one person to deserve. 
Painting little onesie

Monday, June 30, 2014

dressed for success, or, why I'm not wearing pants

When I was a naive 20 weeks pregnant I went out and bought some maternity jeans and a few shirts. Perfect, I thought, maternity clothes aren't so bad. Now at 32 weeks, I laugh at that preggo so smug with her handful of Gap Maternity.

I'm over 5'9" and all torso. I know, I know, stop bragging! It's a enviable build. All the height and none of the legs. People are like, that girl has torso for days! And check out those monkey arms! Bow chica ow ow.

As my belly grows straight out it's becoming impossible to dress. All my shirts hit my belly button then tent out a couple inches from there. Yes, my maternity shirts. I bought an adorable maternity dress online, on the model it hit maybe an inch above her knee, on me it's obscenely short. I can't move without showing the world most of my arse.

Before you say it, yes, I have that belly band thing. But between the elastic band on my jeans, the elastic belly band, a shirt and the nearly 40 extra pounds (yes, really)... I'm ready to claw my way out of all the layers around 3pm. When I get home there are no longer just shoes by the front door. is coming off before the door even swings shut.

This nearly nude dresscode at home means once I'm there the motivation to put real clothes back on to do anything is completely gone. This is how husbands end up doing errands for their pregnant wives. It's not that pregant women are too tired, or lazy, it's because we aren't wearing pants. And new episodes of Wilfred and Orange is the New Black are on Netflix. Pass the Lucky Charms. 

This is the situation... basically. 

Monday, June 23, 2014

31 into 32

31. The number of weeks this little girl has been growing. The age I'll be when she arrives.

It's been a busy 7 days. It's been a busy month. Honestly a busy 3 years if we're counting. And so much change ahead.
Down in front, belly! (29 weeks)

A couple weeks ago we flew redeye to Boston to celebrate my father's 60th birthday. I didn't sleep a wink and my eyes lived up the name. Owen didn't fair much better but had the advantage of Tylenol PM and not being 29 weeks pregnant. Also I was in the direct firing zone of a 90 something year old woman who used the 4.5 hour flight to leak a lifetime of farts while sleeping and blocking all hope of using the bathroom. It was a long night.

We spent the weekend in Rockport MA, what I would call one of my spirit homes. We moved a lot when I was growing up. Every four years. The summer I turned 10 we were in Colorado but my father spent a summer working in Boston. The family followed, but instead of setting up in the city we rented a house in Cape Anne. I remember that summer as one of the best of my life. 

We eventually moved to western Massachusetts (for good) when I was nearly half way through 6th grade. I found my way back to Colorado for college, but came back 2 summers to be a live-in nanny in Rockport. Living with my parents on the weekend and on the coast all week. 

I love the north shore. It's a place where my family is from, but not from. I think when you move often you attach yourself to places by heart not obligation. As soon as I could I found my way back to the places that felt most like home. Testing them out. 
Mama(s) (30 weeks)

It was a great weekend, too fast. I hadn't seen my family since being (maybe, barely) 8 weeks pregnant. Watching them all feel the little girl kick and jab was the best. Hugging my mama good night every night. Hanging out with my brother and sister, acting like big little kids. It's been two decades since we all walked down the beach at Good Harbor, the three of us, over to the island at low tide. So much has changed and hasn't. It's hard to be far away. 

Time is flying by at hyper speed now. We are less than 8 weeks out from her due date. I'm excited but mostly completely overwhelmed right now. Not only is her little room a complete disaster, the list of things that need to be done at work seems insurmountable at times. I have my head down, checking things off, while trying my best to take moments to absorb this time I have with my little one. That I have with my husband. Before everything changes again.

This weekend we headed on our first and last camping trip of the summer. Over the mountains to Maryhill. Another adopted spirit home. I love the hot wind, watching the trains so small across the Columbia, driving through the endless sea of fields and canyons. All in all it was a restorative weekend, aside from having my iPhone walk off with a new owner. And Monday morning, as suspected, all my to-dos are still here.

looks like I could have used a little more spf...(32 weeks)

Friday, May 30, 2014

grow a mama - week 29

Long time no publish! I have about 5 blog drafts in the cooker, but haven't pulled the trigger in awhile. Mainly because as soon as I write an update everything changes. I'll be all ready to talk about how I'm done running and then go bust out 3 miles. Pregnancy is one hell of a rollercoaster.

Because I could write a novel about the last 6 weeks (and have, but luckily for you haven't published it) let's go with bullet points!

  • Running isn't happening most days. Don't be fooled by Instagram (good life tip). It's not easy, nor am I maintaining a "weekly mileage" or "training plan". Unless 3 miles a week counts. 
Didn't run for nearly two weeks, then after this pic was taken managed a 3 miler!
  • But I'm not giving up! I walk about an hour every day and attempt little running spurts when I can. I'm also running a 5k this Sunday. Operation 'don't become one with the couch' is in full swing. 
  • My goal for the third trimester: keep moving and go to prenatal yoga once a week week. Which I have dubbed fart yoga for the number of times preggers are letting it fly in there. I haven't contributed to the fart party yet, but I know my day is coming. 
  • I asked Lauren Fleshman what's one exercise I should be doing and she said clam shells. When Fleshman speaks, it is done. So daily clam shells it is. 
  • My weight gain is solid. I have never talked about weight on this blog, it's such an arbituary measurement and I don't weigh myself...ever. But since I'm now weighed on the monthly, it should be noted I'm about 27 pounds since the pee dried on the preg test (nice visual). It should also be noted that my doctor had the gall to bring this up in my last appointment and I'm fully ignoring her. Because a. I started out underweight by some standards and b. I'm a healthy BMI for my height and weight...even if I wasn't pregger. Not concerned. 

  • My hips have been replaced with Shakira's. As a previous stick figure this is sort of awesome, until I try to pull on a pair of pants (or jumpsuit) from last summer. Can.Not.Budge past mid thigh.  These hips don't lie. 
This week I attempted to pull this jumpsuit on. Big. Big. Mistake.
  • Cellulite. I have it like woah. 
  • Birth training. This is getting real. Right now I'm interviewing doulas nightly (it feels like) and haven't found one. I guess hiring a complete stranger to be my support during this pretty big overwhelming life event is a little harder than I thought....
Getting her room ready, midcentury modern + desert theme. Dresser was a Craigslist find! Hope we have the same taste...
  • I'm exhausted. And yes, mamas, I know "it's only the beginning". But dammit I just want to sleep through one night without waking up a. in extreme back pain b. because I'm nervous I'm not in the right position (mostly, I'm constantly TRYING to roll on my belly) b. because my heart burn is burning a hole straight through my throat.... baby kicks are the only thing I love waking up for. Has yet to get old. 
  • A specific line around my rib cage is numb and in pain... somehow at the same time. And the only bra I am comfortable wearing is a cotton nursing bra that Fleshman bought me. Also I've had to size up two sizes in all bras because of my giant expanding ribs. Not boobs, those are only up a size. Yep, we went there.
  • I secretely hope my rib cage stays bigger. All fast runners have giant rib cages. 
  • Oh and the boobs, I'd like to keep those too. 
  • I could just list everything that's growing... but let's just say I feel like one of those little toys that you drop into water and it grows (I think there's one called 'Instant Boyfriend' and they should def. make a preggers one). I'm just expanding. Everything is expanding. 
Grow a Mama!
Well there's a lot more to say, but now I feel like we're kind of caught up! I'm going to be 29 weeks this Sunday. Baby girl and I will be run/walking the North Olympic Discovery 5k. Back during week 16 I had this hard plan to run the half marathon. A month later I downgraded to the 10k and now... the 5k is just right. Lesson #1 of pregnancy, every day is different. 

Thursday, May 8, 2014

fiery crashes and/or rose colored glasses

There's a song by Andrew Bird called Fiery Crash. I heard him talk about it on NPR (or somewhere else, I'm not sure and conveniently can't find it right now). When asked what that song was about he explained that it was, in part, about needing to imagine the worst before moving on. Essentially he's vividly imagining the flight he's waiting to board going down in a fiery crash to cope with flying.

I completely identify with that coping behavior. I have to imagine the bottom falling out before moving on. The trick is moving on. I can be debilitated by constantly replaying 'the worst scenario' until there is no room for reality or 'the best scenario' to enter my mind.

It's almost as if dealing with obstacles is more comfortable than dealing with success or even just smooth sailing. A reliance on challenge and difficulty is something I have to constantly, conciously move away from. There is still challenge to be had in the midst of non-chaos.

Smooth sailing is bathroom selfies

Right now I'm consiously transitioning into the reality that things are going well with our baby. Worry has taken too much of the past few months, and while I know I can't squash worry entirely I don't want to let it invade the good. I don't want to look back and see this time wasted completely on worry.

We had our first ultrasound to measure our baby's growth since being told she/we had Marginal Cord Insertion. At the 20 week, when the Marginal Cord was discovered, she was in the 58% percentile for size and weight (already a little big). Now at the start of 25 weeks she's in the 76%. And the cord is closer to the center of the placenta (as the placenta grew over the last 5 weeks the edge got further away). The fear of her growth being stunted just doesn't seem to be panning out. Girl is getting big!  

go, baby girl, go

I'm putting on my rose colored glasses here for a bit and adjusting my view. Yes, I'll always be a hyper-realist, and a worrier. But when the picture of reality includes positives, why not absorb and reflect them back along with the rest?

The reality is we're having a baby. So far we know she's a girl with the most adorable little face I've ever seen and she'll be here in August. I'm pregnant and I'm doing my best every day to be the best mama and the best me. The rest... I'll deal with as it comes.

Baby room inspiration and my reminder to breath and relax. Photo cred Tycho

Wednesday, April 23, 2014

weeks 21 and 22

Last blog was a bit of a gut punch to write. After making something so personal public, I thought long and hard about why I blog. And the most encompassing explanation I landed on is that I believe there is a community here, one that is built on a common experience, in this case running… or pregnancy… or ___. And at the best of times, it's also a strong support system with positive energy.

The world has expanded with the internet, now I can feel like I know someone I've never actually met living half a world away. And I'm connected to them by the universal experiences we share. This can be overwhelming on a bad day, but most of the time I find it to be very positive.

To clarify on my last blog, I'm anxious about my baby being healthy. I've been handed something I have no control over (and in reality will most likely not pose a huge issue for my baby). But when I'm faced with something I can't control, I flail around for things I can control (enter deodorant/shampoo).

I had a great conversation with my doctor the afternoon after I posted. I explained I thrive on information, the more the better. And she explained that if she was concerned I would know about it. The cord is just slightly off center, but it's strong and healthy. My baby is growing and is actually measuring big for her 'age'. Her only warning was, do what you can to avoid adding any other complications. We got on the same page as doctor/patient for the first time. She also added that unless I'm drinking my shampoo to try not to worry so much.

So I stopped drinking my shampoo.

Seriously, I got my head on as straight as I could and moved on. The last couple weeks have flown by.

Other than finally cracking about the 20 week news. Other things did happen. Like...
  • I bought my first maternity jeans, with the full belly panel. Sexy and I know it. 
  • Replaced all my shampoo, conditioner, deoderant, and lotions. Now I smell like BO. 
  • Splurged on tiny dresses and bloomers for the mini, my first purchases for her.
  • Apparently I just could have summed this up with three words: "I stress shopped".

one little shelf so far

monday: 2.1 run
tuesday: x
wednesday: x
thursday: 3.4 run
friday: x
saturday: 5 run
sunday: x

Can't remember what I did on the 'x' days. Gotta get a little better on tracking. 

getting some miles in

This week falls under 'extreme nesting'. Spent the entire weekend painting, cleaning, working in the yard. Actually made Pinterest boards. One for baby room inspiration and another to try to remember things I need to get before she arrives. 
getting it together, one step at a time

monday: 3.7 run
tuesday: x
wednesday: 3.1 run + yoga
thursday: 2.5 run
friday: x
saturday: 3.5 run
sunday: x