12. 14. 12. 10:01 am

Forgot one!

This maybe can go on my blog but while I’m thinking of TMI things:

My belly button is SO shallow now. There’s a ring of skin that is now on the outside that obviously hasn’t seen the light of day, like, ever. It’s gonna pop! Probably by the end of the month, if I had to guess.

Also: no (new) stretch marks yet. I feel like part of this is because, to be honest, I am not TOO far above my all-time highest weight right now. Just a few pounds. I’ve gained about 18 pounds so far in the pregnancy, a bit more than the midwives would like, but still within normal range. And not very far off the heaviest I’ve ever been. So so far, my skin hasn’t REALLY stretched much farther than it has historically. I guess?

All a moot point, because I’ve already got stretch marks from non-pregnancy weight gain, and I honestly don’t really care if I get more. I’m just fascinated by all these bodily changes!

11. 05. 12. 11:57 am ♥ 247
jaclynday:

On the eve of the election, I wanted to write about why I’m voting for President Obama again. 
The first time I voted for him, I did so for different reasons than I am tomorrow. I was almost done school and riding the wave of college enthusiasm for a candidate that I thought represented so many things I wished for this country to have. I was full of hope about my future and the future of my friends and family. I had less to worry about then and my reason for voting for him reflected that. I remember when Brandon and I were watching the election coverage in my small apartment and the final state came in to put him over 270. We could hear people cheering from other apartments. It was a happy night and I was so proud to have voted for him. 
Four years later, my life looks very different than it did then. I am married and have a young daughter. Four years ago I was full of hope about my future, but now instead, on the cusp of this election, the unknowns about my daughter’s future are terrifying and real. 
I believe it is my responsibility as a parent to provide my daughter with the best chance for a good quality of life. I want her to have a better life than the one I’ve had and to give her every opportunity for happiness, whatever that means. I’ve had some people tell me that means I should vote for Mitt Romney, because of the economic promises that have been the benchmark of his campaign. Unfortunately, most experts agree that the economy will continue to improve over the next four years no matter which candidate wins. In light of that, I’m unwilling to vote for a candidate whose fiscal math continues to be a big question mark. 
Regardless of the current economic state (improving, albeit slowly), in a few decades, what kind of legacy will we have left for our children? What kind of social and economic climate will my daughter—who will be ready to embark on her own by then, much like I was in 2008—find herself in? It’s hard to say. No one can say what will happen over the next two decades. But, it’s my responsibility to do everything I can in this decade to provide the next generation a model of fairness and equality. 
If my daughter is gay, I want her to have the same rights that I or any other citizen of this country are privy to. 
When my daughter looks back to the year she was born, I hope she is incredulous that this country’s Republican presidential candidate, individual states and state legislators ever endorsed policies and opinions based in “hypocrisy, ignorance and bigotry.”
No matter what job my daughter may have, I hope she is paid fairly for the work that she does. 
It’s almost too horrific to think about, but with 1 in 5 American women saying they have been sexually assaulted, this is not just something that happens to “other people.” If my daughter is ever raped, I never want to hear anyone question whether it was legitimate. If she got pregnant from the assault, I want her to have the ability to make a safe and legal decision about her own healthcare instead of having a man tell her that it’s a “gift from God.” 
If my daughter attends college, I want her to graduate and get a job without worrying about spending more than 10% of her income on crippling student loan debt.  
I want my daughter to have access to affordable contraception. See also: well-woman visits, testing for HPV, counseling on sexually transmitted infections, screening and counseling for HIV, screening for gestational diabetes, breastfeeding support, supplies and counseling and screening and counseling for domestic and interpersonal violence. Period. 
I want my daughter to understand that if she chooses to believe in God or adhere to a certain religion that doing so does not give her license to promote hate or intolerance. 
I want my daughter to be a decent person and a good citizen. I want her to love and be loved—no matter who that is. I want her to be happy and successful. I want her to be healthy and strong. I want her to never feel scared that if the wrong person wins in the next election that she may not be able to make her own healthcare decisions. I want her to look back and see that her father and I voting for Barack Obama meant standing on the right side of history on November 6, 2012. 

jaclynday:

On the eve of the election, I wanted to write about why I’m voting for President Obama again. 

The first time I voted for him, I did so for different reasons than I am tomorrow. I was almost done school and riding the wave of college enthusiasm for a candidate that I thought represented so many things I wished for this country to have. I was full of hope about my future and the future of my friends and family. I had less to worry about then and my reason for voting for him reflected that. I remember when Brandon and I were watching the election coverage in my small apartment and the final state came in to put him over 270. We could hear people cheering from other apartments. It was a happy night and I was so proud to have voted for him. 

Four years later, my life looks very different than it did then. I am married and have a young daughter. Four years ago I was full of hope about my future, but now instead, on the cusp of this election, the unknowns about my daughter’s future are terrifying and real. 

I believe it is my responsibility as a parent to provide my daughter with the best chance for a good quality of life. I want her to have a better life than the one I’ve had and to give her every opportunity for happiness, whatever that means. I’ve had some people tell me that means I should vote for Mitt Romney, because of the economic promises that have been the benchmark of his campaign. Unfortunately, most experts agree that the economy will continue to improve over the next four years no matter which candidate wins. In light of that, I’m unwilling to vote for a candidate whose fiscal math continues to be a big question mark

Regardless of the current economic state (improving, albeit slowly), in a few decades, what kind of legacy will we have left for our children? What kind of social and economic climate will my daughter—who will be ready to embark on her own by then, much like I was in 2008—find herself in? It’s hard to say. No one can say what will happen over the next two decades. But, it’s my responsibility to do everything I can in this decade to provide the next generation a model of fairness and equality. 

If my daughter is gay, I want her to have the same rights that I or any other citizen of this country are privy to. 

When my daughter looks back to the year she was born, I hope she is incredulous that this country’s Republican presidential candidate, individual states and state legislators ever endorsed policies and opinions based in “hypocrisy, ignorance and bigotry.”

No matter what job my daughter may have, I hope she is paid fairly for the work that she does. 

It’s almost too horrific to think about, but with 1 in 5 American women saying they have been sexually assaulted, this is not just something that happens to “other people.” If my daughter is ever raped, I never want to hear anyone question whether it was legitimate. If she got pregnant from the assault, I want her to have the ability to make a safe and legal decision about her own healthcare instead of having a man tell her that it’s a “gift from God.” 

If my daughter attends college, I want her to graduate and get a job without worrying about spending more than 10% of her income on crippling student loan debt.  

I want my daughter to have access to affordable contraception. See also: well-woman visits, testing for HPV, counseling on sexually transmitted infections, screening and counseling for HIV, screening for gestational diabetes, breastfeeding support, supplies and counseling and screening and counseling for domestic and interpersonal violence. Period

I want my daughter to understand that if she chooses to believe in God or adhere to a certain religion that doing so does not give her license to promote hate or intolerance. 

I want my daughter to be a decent person and a good citizen. I want her to love and be loved—no matter who that is. I want her to be happy and successful. I want her to be healthy and strong. I want her to never feel scared that if the wrong person wins in the next election that she may not be able to make her own healthcare decisions. I want her to look back and see that her father and I voting for Barack Obama meant standing on the right side of history on November 6, 2012. 

via jaclynday
10. 20. 12. 04:35 pm
After seeing one of the most recent stfu parents posts we decided it’s time to throw out our cup o’ positive preg tests. I had forgotten how many we took that first week. High-res

After seeing one of the most recent stfu parents posts we decided it’s time to throw out our cup o’ positive preg tests. I had forgotten how many we took that first week.

10. 04. 12. 11:02 am

Telling my appendicitis story on my non-anon blog

09. 26. 12. 04:39 pm ♥ 1

Radio Silence?

We’re telling people! They’re happy for us! It’s a pretty great feeling!

Except: to cut down on playing phone tag and phone awkwardness (because we pretty much NEVER use the phone nowadays for actual phone calls), we’ve chosen to email a few of our nearest and dearest. Is this a total faux pas? Because it’s been, like, at least 36 hours and some of them haven’t responded. C is chalking it up to his bolded and underlined dire warnings to be careful about digital congrats because we’re trying to keep this news off the internets for a little while longer; he thinks people are interpreting that to include email. But I’m worried. Did we offend them? Do they HATE the idea of us being pregnant? Did the email get accidentally sent to their junk mail folder?

To be fair, I similarly freaked out when we emailed people save-the-dates for the wedding. I probably just have a higher bar set for time-to-reply-to-emails than other people do. But, man.

I’ll just find any excuse to become anxiety-ridden, won’t I?

09. 24. 12. 04:27 pm

Opening the floodgates

Told the in-laws this weekend. They were appropriately excited, though C’s mom got a little intense. Phrases I hope to never hear again (I know I’m kidding myself and this will be ALL I hear for the next 7 months):

  • Take good care of my grandbaby in there! (No, I’m planning a bender this weekend)
  • Get some sleep now while you still can!
  • You’ll definitely want an epidural!
  • Breastfeeding is hard so don’t feel bad if you can’t do it.

Luckily my mother-in-law only touched my belly twice this weekend, so that was nice. She is also going on about how we NEED to get an iPad so we can Facetime with them and I’m like, I think what we’ll NEED is stuff for the baby probably. Ten bucks says they buy us an iPad. Which we can use to Facetime with them with a naked baby who has no crib to sleep in. Kidding! Mostly!

I wore my maternity jeans all weekend. And am wearing them today. They are the most comfortable things ever, though they keep slipping down a bit. And I thought the shirt I’m wearing was long enough but it keeps riding up so I’m paranoid that everyone at work can see that I’m wearing maternity jeans. Which will be fine after 4pm tomorrow when my boss knows the news, but until then NOPE.

Telling everyone is pretty nuts. I emailed two of my best guy friends from college and one emailed me back and said “I can’t think of two people who’d be better parents than the two of you.” Which is kind of the HUGEST COMPLIMENT EVER. So good. Tonight we’re calling the rest of our inner circle of friends and relations, then by the end of the week most people in our lives should know. I’ve gotta say, despite the fact that the NT scan was EXCELLENT and I’m now in the second trimester all this telling makes me nervous. Old habits die hard. I guess if anything terrible happened now it would be devastating enough that everyone should know anyway. Or something.

Got my flu shot today, and promptly sent a nagging email to my family (many of whom are of the don’t-believe-in-flu-shots, never-get-sick ilk) telling them they should get one too if they want to hang out with a certain new infant next spring. I’m totally going to be one of THOSE moms.

09. 19. 12. 10:19 pm ♥ 1
I just bought an emergency pair of maternity jeans for our trip this weekend. Shit just got REAL.
09. 18. 12. 03:00 pm ♥ 1

Oh, Mom

So my mom knows now. Obviously; I called her from the ER and had one of the strangest conversations of my life. While on morphine! Good times.

She came to visit this past weekend. The first thing she did was go straight for my belly and get all weepy. No matter how many times I explained that it was mostly fat and bloating from the surgery, and not baby in there, she still was fixated. She wanted to touch it. She wanted to take pictures of it. And with it. I realized that this is just the beginning of a sea change in both our relationship and C and my place in our family. It used to be that we got pretty much ignored and left to fend for ourselves when it came to family stuff; we were the flexible ones with no kids so we slept on the pull-out couch, were consulted LAST when it came to holiday plans, were expected to always pay our own way, etc. NOT ANYMORE, BITCHES. We are IMPORTANT now! We are getting babied! (haha literally) Mom is sending us packages with presents like a pregnancy scrapbook kit and a gift card to Motherhood Maternity (and a few pieces of maternity clothes with a gift receipt, in case I don’t like them. “Nowadays seems the style is clingy, even for maternity.” Oh Mom.)

But there are strings attached to this new attention. Mom has a stake in what’s happening with my body now, since her GRANDCHILD is inside of it, so she’s feeling entitled to asking all sorts of details about my prenatal care, choices, birth plan, post-baby plan, etc. I think she thinks we’re going to let her in the delivery room. THIS IS NOT A GOOD IDEA. I know I should tell her now so she has time to let it sink in that she can’t be in the room, but I’m having a hard time. Sigh.

I know I shouldn’t complain. I am lucky to have a loving and supportive family that is relatively close by (3 hours or so). I just need to remind myself to approach this the same way I did with wedding planning, involving her in a thoughtful and purposeful way but retaining our own autonomy.

Nuchal translucency ultrasound tomorrow, seeing C’s family this weekend and spilling THOSE beans, and then we tell the world!

12. 14. 12. 09:56 am

Things that can’t go on my blog

Transitioning to my public, even-mom-has-the-link blog is hard, because I got so used to sharing everything here and there I have to be much more self-censored.

So, some thoughts.

1. Leaky boobs! It’s true. I woke up one morning about two weeks ago with a wet shirt on the left side. And promptly freaked out briefly, because none of my books/apps/resources mention colostrum leakage until the third trimester. But apparently it is not TOO uncommon for that to happen in the second. I was hopeful that maybe this means I will have a super duper milk supply (it’s a -completely unfounded- worry of mine, bc I have small boobs), but unfortunately no such correlation exists.

2. I’ve developed a linea nigra, not extremely dark but definitely noticeable. I’m not too concerned about it since, let’s face it, due to my PCOS my body is full of dark spots and hair and skin tags and whatever. Interestingly, it seems to be below AND above my belly button. Which is supposed to indicate that I’m having a boy. *I* know whether or not that is accurate, but all of you suckers have to wait until March/April to find out. Ha! Also, the line is not exactly centered on my belly, which drives me nuts a little bit.

3. I might never be able to go back to pants with a button/zipper fly again. Maternity pants are comfy AND conveniently fast in the bathroom! Which is good, bc man do I pee a lot. SO MUCH PEEING.

10. 29. 12. 04:24 pm ♥ 282
ilovecharts:

-prettysketchy
High-res

ilovecharts:

-prettysketchy

via ilovecharts
10. 19. 12. 03:36 pm ♥ 1949
humansofnewyork:

Given the unbelievable amount of attention the yesterday’s post has gotten, Stella has (quite fairly) asked me to post my portrait of her, along with some context. Hope everyone takes a second to imagine what it’s like to have tens of thousands people viewing / supporting / judging / commenting on you at one time. 
About Stella:
I struggled with body image my whole life. As a young teen, I was diagnosed with Polycystic ovarian syndrome. PCOS makes it incredibly hard to lose weight, and spikes up your insulin levels which can lead to diabetes and other complications. I felt like I was just getting bigger and bigger and could do nothing to stop it. I was so awkward and uncomfortable with what I looked like that I began to self-medicate in the way most teenagers do, except it was to a scary excess. Finally, my parents intervened and when I was 15 I got the help I needed. The past 2 and a half years have essentially been a struggle to come to terms with who I am and live life in a constructive, not destructive manner.
A couple weeks ago, I started a blog, just as a way to get out my thoughts and feelings. I found the body acceptance movement online, and it was like my eyes were open for the first time. I realized that my size or weight is not something to be ashamed of, it is a part of me. Health and weight are not synonymous, and I know that to be healthy means to manage my sobriety and PCOS the best that I can. I may not ever be thin, but that’s okay. It’s all about progress, not perfection.
So I posted a picture of myself in my underwear with a message to all the people who’d ever bullied me about what I looked like. Amazingly, in less than a week, it got over 50,000 likes and reblogs. It’s upwards of 80,000 now, and the response has been 90% positive, I would say.
Two friends of mine, Savanna and Lucy, are in the process of planning a documentary on sizeism and its effect on young girls. My dream is to go back to my middle school, where all my body image issues began, and work with young girls on the issues of self-esteem, body image, sizeism, and bullying. I want to give these girls something I never knew, which was that your body does not define who you are as a person. To people who judge people on their size, weight, pants size or health - shame on you. No one is the authority on beauty, and everyone has a different road to trudge to happy destiny. 
STELLA’S BLOG: http://thebodyloveblog.tumblr.com/
High-res

humansofnewyork:

Given the unbelievable amount of attention the yesterday’s post has gotten, Stella has (quite fairly) asked me to post my portrait of her, along with some context. Hope everyone takes a second to imagine what it’s like to have tens of thousands people viewing / supporting / judging / commenting on you at one time. 

About Stella:

I struggled with body image my whole life. As a young teen, I was diagnosed with Polycystic ovarian syndrome. PCOS makes it incredibly hard to lose weight, and spikes up your insulin levels which can lead to diabetes and other complications. I felt like I was just getting bigger and bigger and could do nothing to stop it. I was so awkward and uncomfortable with what I looked like that I began to self-medicate in the way most teenagers do, except it was to a scary excess. Finally, my parents intervened and when I was 15 I got the help I needed. The past 2 and a half years have essentially been a struggle to come to terms with who I am and live life in a constructive, not destructive manner.

A couple weeks ago, I started a blog, just as a way to get out my thoughts and feelings. I found the body acceptance movement online, and it was like my eyes were open for the first time. I realized that my size or weight is not something to be ashamed of, it is a part of me. Health and weight are not synonymous, and I know that to be healthy means to manage my sobriety and PCOS the best that I can. I may not ever be thin, but that’s okay. It’s all about progress, not perfection.

So I posted a picture of myself in my underwear with a message to all the people who’d ever bullied me about what I looked like. Amazingly, in less than a week, it got over 50,000 likes and reblogs. It’s upwards of 80,000 now, and the response has been 90% positive, I would say.

Two friends of mine, Savanna and Lucy, are in the process of planning a documentary on sizeism and its effect on young girls. My dream is to go back to my middle school, where all my body image issues began, and work with young girls on the issues of self-esteem, body image, sizeism, and bullying. I want to give these girls something I never knew, which was that your body does not define who you are as a person. To people who judge people on their size, weight, pants size or health - shame on you. No one is the authority on beauty, and everyone has a different road to trudge to happy destiny. 

STELLA’S BLOG: http://thebodyloveblog.tumblr.com/

via humansofnewyork
09. 27. 12. 12:14 pm
If this baby doesn’t have blue eyes, Gregor Mendel was a fraud.
An academic friend of ours on hearing the news. Incidentally, there’s an outside chance of green eyes/red hair, but blue/blonde is almost guaranteed. We are very recessive.
09. 25. 12. 09:34 am ♥ 1

Have I mentioned my huge belly?

This whole time I thought it was post-surgery bloat, but this shit’s not going away. I look MUCH more pregnant than I am. And I can’t wear non-maternity pants. I’m not even supposed to be really showing yet! Gah.

The upside, I suppose, is that folks are already giving up their seats for me on public transportation, so that’s nice. The downside is that last night my sister-in-law tagged me in some photos from this past weekend on facebook, and I had to quickly un-tag myself because OH MY GOD I LOOK 20 WEEKS PREGNANT. The wearing of maternity clothes already doesn’t help but a girl’s gotta be comfortable, right?

09. 20. 12. 06:20 pm

The amount of maternity clothes I own just quadrupled

Package from Mom. Maternity work pants, cardigan, blouse, and t-shirt. Work clothes! Hooray. Also a little book that is a newborn nursing/feeding journal. It’s sweet but I don’t have the heart to say “There’s an app for that.” Who knows, maybe analog will win over digital by then.

We’re off to Denver E A R L Y tomorrow morning. Will probably not have internet access all weekend. See you on Monday!

09. 19. 12. 02:07 pm ♥ 3

Hey, I’m pregnant!

That’s pretty much how I felt after our ultrasound today. It went pretty well, except that Burpy was not cooperating position-wise. The tech kept jabbing the padddle thingie into my abdomen to get baby to turn over. A couple of times she made me lift my hips in the air and “shake shake shake!” I am incubating a martini.

But we finally got a nice view of Burpy’s backside, and according to the ultrasound:

  • Miniscule chance of Down syndrome and other chromosomal issues
  • 2 arms, 2 legs
  • Good-size brain
  • Excellent heartbeat
  • So much movement!

So that’s all good. Thanks to the appendicitis and subsequent recovery I actually LOST weight, which they weren’t terribly happy about, but it was only a couple pounds.

After we got our clean bill of health, I turned to C and said “Holy shit this is real now.” It all just sort of hit me. This was my last stop before really and truly believing that this is going to HAPPEN, that we will have a baby in Spring. I’ve spent the last 2 months waiting for the other shoe to drop, (and thinking it had with the appendicitis), and now I have to stop with the pessimism, this isn’t even cautious optimism now, this is just AMAZING.

And now I’m finally excited to TELL EVERYONE, and CELEBRATE, and start BUYING ALL THE THINGS.

A week from today, the world will know. And that doesn’t scare the shit out of me anymore, it just makes me smile. Real big.