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August 27, 2003
Week 14: Rounding Belly
I can’t remember any time in my life when my stomach held the fascination it does for me now. I may have glanced in its direction when pants were tighter than I’d hoped. I recall noticing that my “outie” belly button became more of an “innie” at some point in elementary school. When Special K had those “can’t pinch an inch” commercials back in the day, I tried to pinch my non-existent side flab. But never before have I sat and stared at my belly like I do now.
For the first half of this calendar year, my friend Cheryl and I were on a mission to lose weight and tone up before all our college friends married this summer. She was far more successful than I, but I did attend spinning classes at least twice a week and lose about eight pounds from January until May. I was just fitting comfortably into my pants again towards the end of spring. Then my university gym membership expired, I went on a business trip, and shortly thereafter found out that this baby was on the way. My gym bag went in a drawer never to be seen again and I parked myself on the couch for the summer. I had high hopes of biking, maybe taking swim aerobics, but the first trimester exhaustion was more than I could overcome. Now I have more energy, but I’m just lazy. Exercise has always been more of a chore than fun for me. I was naturally skinny and had a fast metabolism until age 16 or so, and it’s disappointing that I can no longer eat ice cream twice a day and maintain my weight like I did in junior high. I haven’t worn jeans in two years because I refuse to accept that my college jeans no longer fit. Ridiculous, yes, I realize.
Once I got pregnant, I was sort of curious to see how much my weight would fluctuate, but I didn’t get all that hung up on it. We don’t have a scale at our house, so it’s hard to get too obsessive. The day after my positive test, I checked my weight at my parents’. It was five pounds up from my mid-May weight since I hadn’t gone to the gym or done anything remotely athletic. It was still lower than my January weight though. A couple weeks later I noted that it had gone down three pounds. That wasn’t too shocking since most food seemed repulsive for a month or so. At my nine-week CNM visit, I was back up to one pound over my test day weight. Four weeks later at my second appointment, I was up four pounds, but that was immediately after eating a big lasagna dinner for my sister’s birthday. I claim it was a pound or two over my “real” weight. I’m currently floating right around my January weight, which is the most I’ve ever weighed before and twenty pounds heavier than I was during my athletic junior year in college, or fifteen pounds more than I was when I graduated in the summer of 2001. Desk jobs suck, I tell you.
Okay, when I write all that down, it sounds somewhat obsessive. I can’t be the only one who ignores the “leave shoes on” sign at the doctor’s, though. I realize that I might gain 30 or 40 pounds by March and I think I can deal with that. But there was something satisfying about knowing I’m up about four pounds for the first trimester, which is in line with the suggested gain. Now that I’m eating more and the baby is starting to gain weight, the pounds will start adding on fast. So, to sum up for the record, I started at weight X. By week 6, I weighed X – 3. By week 10, I weighed X + 1. By week 14, I weighted X + 5 officially, or X + 3 or 4 by my estimates. The way my memory is dying, I’d better write this here or I’ll forget in the upcoming weeks.
What I’ve been getting to with all this talk of pounds up and down is that I’ve never felt better about my belly. My waist was about 30 inches pre-pg, so my waist wasn’t curving inward by any means, but I didn’t feel pudgy either. Around week 9, I stopped being able to button my khakis—hello rubber band trick! At week 13, I gave up on the khakis and other pants and skirts with zippers. I’ve been wearing the same 3 pairs of capris (with elastic waistbands) to work for two weeks now. It’s getting old. And they’re not even that comfortable since they sit on, not below my waist. Last week, I developed a new hobby—staring at my belly.
Sometime in the past couple weeks, my belly began to round out in the front more than just feel wide in the sides. I’ll sit on the couch, pull my shirt up a bit, and poke at it, stare at it, just pondering the fact that a baby is growing away in there. The way that my stomach feels firm, even though it’s larger than I’m used to, makes it obvious to me that this is no ice cream-induced roundness. I can still sleep on my stomach, so I’m pretty sure that my uterus is pushing my intestines and whatever else out, and it’s not the baby up that high. But there is definitely something going on in there. For the past few days, I’ve tried willing the baby to move enough for me to feel him or her. No such luck. However, seeing that curve of stomach was the comfort I needed to finally feel confident that this baby and this pregnancy are real.
The unfortunate side effect of this fun rounding belly is a need for different clothes. I am officially in wardrobe limbo. My mom found me a lot of maternity clothes during her garage sale sprees, and a family friend gave me three grocery bags full of clothes from her two pregnancies, but I don’t have much in the way of transitional attire.
I’ve been wearing a dress I bought in May (with the help of Jeanette—formerly of Moms Today—and her daughter Bella) to a number of summer weddings. A week ago Friday, I wore it one last time to a family friend’s wedding. Because of its empire waist, my belly was visible to people other than Dan and I. I got a few belly rubs, although only from good family friends. There were a lot of my high school classmates there that I didn’t talk to back then or since, and I wonder whether they thought I’d gained weight or realized I’m pregnant. I was tempted to wear a sign around my neck to let them know. Either way, that’s definitely the last time I’m going to fit into it for the next year.
Dan and I tried going to Motherhood Maternity to find some pants or a skirt, along with a (yet bigger) bra. Everything I tried on felt synthetic and icky. Don’t they realize pregnant women like cotton, too? I know it’s easier to make things stretch when they’re made from polyester, but come on.
On Saturday, my mom and I went to Gap at the Mall of America in the hunt for transition pants. We went home with a linen dress and a pair of cropped linen pants being shipped to me. At least they were both on sale. The only khaki-like pants gaped in the back, which won’t work no matter how big my belly gets.
Last night, Mom and I looked at Gap online and almost ordered a $68 pair of khakis. My mom is the only person I know cheaper than me, and she essentially bought an entire maternity wardrobe for under that price already, but even she realized it wasn’t going to get any easier. We ended up wandering over to Old Navy’s maternity site and buying two long skirts instead—one khaki, one jean, both with the three-inch low-rise elastic waist. We’ll see how those work. That should be enough to tide me over until the full-blown maternity stuff fits. I didn’t realize how many of my shirts would get too small this early. Anything short needs to get put away before I start showing my belly off to my coworkers—yikes!
The House Saga Continues
Seeing as how the last weekday in August is very quickly approaching, I thought it was safe to assume that we wouldn’t be closing on the house until the original September 25th date. Then yesterday I got two calls from our agent and one from our lender, and by golly, we might be closing on Friday after all. We were thinking about going to Dan’s family’s cabin Thursday night or early Friday, but we might have to push it back until later. Apparently we won’t know for sure until Thursday. Nothing like some last minute excitement to keep things interesting.
On Friday, our check came in the mail from Mr. Stocks, our financial advisor, to use for the house down payment. I’ve never held such a large check in my life, and it was more than a little intimidating to bring it to the bank. I kept fearing that I’d be mugged (in broad daylight in the streets of downtown, surrounded by people). Thankfully, I got to the bank safely and my checking account will briefly be twenty times greater than it ever was or will be again. Goodbye stocks and mutual funds.
CNM Appointment #2
Last Tuesday, we went to my 13 week CNM prenatal visit. Someone had suggested bringing a tape player, and the highlight of the night was definitely hearing our baby’s heartbeat for the first time. At the appointment itself, it was anti-climactic because Dan wasn’t sure if he was hearing my heartbeat or the baby’s, and we were worried that the tape player wouldn’t record well. But after we left, I kept replaying that 10 second tape, and just can’t get tired of that whoosh-whoosh-whoosh. We called all our family members and played it for them, too.
The rest of the appointment was a bit of a letdown. We were only there for 25 minutes, including a few minutes in the lobby. I still haven’t been asked to pee in a cup, and I keep forgetting to ask if that’s normal. I got the results of my initial blood tests—everything looked great. My blood pressure was 102 over 54, which is slightly low but not abnormal for me.
We spent the bulk of the appointment chatting about maternity clothes and discussing ultrasounds. The CNM had told us at the previous appointment that if we skipped the triple screen, that she recommended we get an 18-20 week ultrasound, but we didn’t ask much about it at the time. This week, I asked whether it was a recommendation or a requirement. She clarified that it’s not necessary, but she strongly encourages parents to get one. I’ve done some reading on ultrasounds and have been leaning towards avoiding them, so I asked her why she recommends that we get one when I’m low risk. Her answer—to be sure about timing. Huh? That’s the best she can tell me? We reminded her that I’d charted my BBT and mucus, since she’d agreed on my ovulation time at the last appointment. This time, she didn’t seem to be listening. She kept bringing up how we wouldn’t be sure if I was overdue without ultrasound dating, blah blah blah. I refuse to believe that an ultrasound will ever date this pregnancy better than my ovulation signs (May 31st or June 1st. I’m positive.), and was astonished that she couldn’t come up with anything else. She asked if we would terminate the pregnancy based on ultrasound results and we said no. That’s all she brought up. Nothing about discovering organ problems early or some variation of that. So now we’re pretty certain that we’ll be skipping the ultrasound.
The other topic we brought up was post-date policies. She said that at 41 ½ weeks, I would have a non-stress test and ultrasound to check on the baby, and at 42 weeks, we’d probably induce. That was about what I expected to hear, but I wanted to be sure that they’d let me go a week or two before demanding induction.
That was the whole appointment. She only discussed ultrasounds and inductions after I brought them up. She didn’t seem to be rushing us—she gladly talked about any of our concerns—but it seemed like she should be discussing nutrition and exercise, or just asking me more about how I was doing. It was so fast.
That brings me back to the home vs. hospital debate. I’m liking the idea of homebirth more and more, but Dan’s not completely convinced yet. We haven’t put much thought into it in the past few weeks since we’ve been busy with house details. Now I’m getting back on track calling more midwives.
This afternoon I left a message for one CPM and talked to a second one. J, the CPM we have met, had told me that K, the CPM I spoke to today, was going to be taking a leave of absence, but I tried calling her anyway. She was very happy to talk with me, and might not be on leave in February/March after all. She will be her partner’s back-up midwife even if she isn’t practicing herself. Normally, they both work with each mom and come to the delivery together. I told her about our situation and how we were slightly uncomfortable with J’s lack of birth statistics. K made it clear that she thinks J is a wonderful midwife, but that they all practice differently. She and her partner compile their statistics every 50 births. She said that in 16 years, only three or four moms have had c-sections. They screen the moms very carefully to make sure that homebirth is the right choice for them, both medically and emotionally. She also mentioned their wide variety of techniques for turning breech babies as a factor. I didn’t ask her for many detailed statistics since I don’t even know whether she’ll be practicing when I’m due. She and her partner have a back-up doctor who sees all their moms at 36 weeks and keeps a copy of their records. They also pay someone to fight insurance companies to reimburse everyone. Both of them are certified CPM’s and also licensed through the state. They charge $3,000 for all care. She is also on the state midwifery licensing board and mentioned that eight women in our area are licensed (that doesn’t include women like J who are certified but not licensed). She didn’t try to push licensed midwives as being better, but said that different women are more comfortable with different types of midwives. Her most common reason for hospital transport were moms who got too tired after refusing to rest in early labor. I hadn’t heard that before. She said sometimes transports are due to first time moms being overwhelmed by the level of pain, but that wasn’t a common occurrence. Overall, I felt very comfortable talking with her, and she may have the balance of doctor backup and stats with experience and knowledge that we’re looking for. She gave me her partner’s phone number, and also said that she’d call me in the next few days if she decides to take on moms with due dates around mine after all. I relayed all this information to Dan, and he thought we should definitely meet with them. He was excited to hear that his two biggest hang-ups with J weren’t an issue with these midwives. Now I just need to get around to calling K’s partner.
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Some updates:
24 hours have gone by since I wrote most of this entry, and I wanted to add the newest house developments. Closing on Friday is definitely out—it looks as thought we’ll be closing next Thursday, no guarantees. The sellers have agreed to pay our pro-rated September rent (about 90% if we close on Thursday), and our first mortgage payment won’t be until November 1st. The only downside is that we’ll be paying interest on something or another from September 5th-30th. That still comes out as less than the extra month’s rent and extra mortgage payment, so we come out ahead. This seems a little less rushed and allows us to leave first thing on Friday for Dan’s family’s cabin in northern Minnesota. We try to get there every Labor Day weekend, which conveniently covers my birthday, too. No waterskiing for me this year, but the cousins with a ski boat probably won’t be there anyway.
I let out the news about my pregnancy to some coworkers this morning, and I plan to tell everyone else I work with during a team meeting on Tuesday after the holiday. I’ll write more about how that turns out next time and stop here before this gets any crazier.
TTM: When did you give up on your usual clothes? Did you jump right into panel pants, or find some alternative? I need as many ideas as I can get! How did you handle watching your body expand?
Have a great holiday weekend everyone!
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