acupuncture, anxiety, parenthood, pregnancy, single mom by choice, SMC

intuition

Today is the beginning of my third trimester: 28 weeks. Baby boy is the size of an eggplant and I’m starting to slow down and focus.

My doula came over today and we talked a lot about holding a sense of peace and clarity and connection with the baby amidst all that life and well-intentioned people and Google may throw at you. An interesting case study on this subject is that I recently got off the fence and got a flu shot. I had been abstaining with the idea that I would rather not inject anything I don’t absolutely have to, especially when they specifically tell you that studies haven’t been done on pregnant women. However, my acupuncturist made a gentle but strong case to me and the risk of getting really sick finally outweighed any potential risk of the actual shot. I’d been unsure and getting mixed messages for weeks and months, but finally I got clear.

I got the shot on Wednesday night, and on Thursday I developed a paranoia that the baby was quieter than usual. I knew that it was a manifestation of my anxiety and probably nothing more, yet I somehow felt like I gave him the flu. Then, he woke me up at 3am that night with unprecedented tumbling somersaults–the first time he ever woke me with his movement. My doula took this as a sign of good communication–he let me know he was OK.

As I get closer to becoming an actual mom, I wonder–how do you trust that you know what is right for your baby even when your trusted experts may disagree with each other and/or you? The flu shot was a relatively low-stakes version of this scenario but the question still looms large.

Last night, my mom asked me what has surprised me most about being pregnant, and I told her that it’s the intuition, the sense that I do have an open line of communication with this little guy, even as I’m on conference calls and scrubbing the bathtub and riding the bus. I couldn’t have anticipated this. No one else knows what he’s saying through his interpretive dances. I get every single email. Now this extra sense is a part of every waking (and sometimes sleeping) moment. I used to think it was a sci-fi alien experience to have a baby in your belly but in reality it feels like an extension of me, my new normal. I love his presence. I do have a sense of what’s right for him–yet I know it won’t always be black and white, and I will make lots and lots (and lots) of mistakes. I also know that I want to keep developing this intuition because it’s probably always right.

Today, my doula drew this for me:

photo (13)

Lately I do have a stronger sense of what I need, a tighter focus on what’s important. My former mentor once said, “Saying no to others is saying yes to yourself.” Saying no has always been tough for me. I won’t be able to be as accommodating as I’ve been in the past. No–I can’t make it, I can’t commit, I can’t say what I’ll be doing over Labor Day weekend. Even if I know that setting boundaries or opting out or canceling plans is really good and healthy for me, it’s still hard. Because it represents a fundamental shift in behavior–I won’t be so easygoing, flexible, no problem I’ll come to you. Some people won’t like it and will reflect back a note of disappointment. Most will completely understand. And I feel like this shift is something I’ve been working toward for a long time, and the baby is giving me a boost. Which is one of his first gifts to me.

The lessons just arrive one on top of the other through this journey. You know what you need. Trust it. Trust the emails from your baby. Trust that your body knows. Stay here.

This trust will serve me in the third trimester and in labor and through motherhood. Dropping the ‘shoulds’ and comparisons and what ifs and just being with what I already know, deep in my reptilian brain, ditching the frequently unhelpful neo-cortex. (As my doula noted, we are the only animal who attends birth prep classes.)

This week’s photo was taken outside the Kabuki Sundance theater where my sister and I saw “American Hustler” (good!) and ran out of interesting backdrops on this rainy night. The belly is now getting me a seat on the bus and my belly button is threatening to invert.

28 weeks

Have a great week, wise ones. xo

gratitude, outdoors, pregnancy, single mom by choice, SMC

heading home

I’m on the flight back from Florida and pretty fed up in all respects. My flight was almost 3 hours delayed. I couldn’t get online to do work despite trying for 1.5 hrs and calling the help desk. My computer died and the outlet wouldn’t work unless I held it in with force. I had to sit on the ground next to the outlet. Once on the plane (yay), I bought headphones thinking maybe there would be some good TV, but with the exception of a snippet of Sex and the City interspersed and brief glimpses of a totally one-sided Superbowl (right?), there was really only garbage. So then I signed up for an hour of sloooow internet, tried again and failed with the work connection, and now I realize that no matter how simple the web surfing, every click costs me 2-3 minutes. So, I’m going to blog and spend the rest of the flight reading Harry Potter on my iPad and sleeping. Screw it!

It is 11:18pm on the east coast and I won’t be home for 3 more hours. On the TV next to me, they keep showing montages of Phillip Seymour Hoffman, and I feel so sad about this loss. As hunger rises and the cold leftover pizza in a bag sounds unappealing, I’m contemplating ordering a snack box. The bright spot in this moment is the baby who is rumbling around without a care in the world, doing interpretive dances and heralding our return to San Francisco.

The trip went smoothly. I had a 30th-floor ocean-view suite that was pretty spectacular. I love my team. We did a good job on the event and then got rewarded with a gloriously sunny afternoon together on a line of beach chairs. J and I went out later for Cuban food and then he shared my suite (or, as he calls it, my “suit”). He agreed to be el padrino (the godfather), although we agreed that this would be without religious connotation. Every time he put his hand on my belly to feel the baby, the baby totally got calm. I didn’t sleep very well but basically enough. I did my neti pot every day.

As I write my way out of my cranky mood and my eyes get heavier, I am just so grateful to be going home with no more big cross-country flights on the horizon. I am definitely having the impulse to be home. Home feels delicious. I will be glad to reach home whenever that hour arrives.

I will leave you with your belly shot zen from the beach in Hollywood, FL. I call this one, “Sun on my Bun.”

xo

unnamed

 

 

gratitude, outdoors, parenthood, pregnancy

26 weeks

No time to write! I will say I have rounded a corner on planning, having made a dent in my registry and given actual thought to things like diapers, breast pumps, and swaddling blankets. It is truly overwhelming how much there is to learn. My inventory of hand-me-downs people have dropped off reads more like a registry than my actual registry, what good fortune! The joy of having a baby when so many friends are wrapping it up and excited to free up some closet space. I have an army of consultant moms.

I’m leaving for my last x-country biz trip on Wednesday, the gentlest way I know how: a direct flight on Virgin America where I will order endless bottles of water and possibly even wear a mask. But before I go, I didn’t want to neglect this week’s belly photo gallery, shot by Dr. B at Fort Funston where I had somehow never been despite having moved here in 1997:

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Baby boy has gotten the hiccups twice!

Love y’all!

dating, family, gratitude, outdoors, parenthood, pregnancy, single mom by choice, SMC

boys

Now that I know I’m having a boy and it was instantly pre-destined and perfect the minute the blue(ish) onesie came out of the box, the whole world is offering boy generalizations and ideas and advice (and clothes, thank you A!!!). Before I knew what I was having, my stated line was that my whole family is girls, we know girls, we would adore a girl, and a boy would be a whole new exciting and mysterious adventure. I never had a brother or even a nephew. I don’t have that many close guy friends, don’t keep in touch with exes, and have gravitated more and more toward female communities of SMCs, pregnant ladies, midwives, and moms. The only man in the house is still in utero. I have a lot to learn!

And I guess I will learn it all from him. The generalizations are sweet and well-intentioned and probably grounded in some truth but may not apply to all. For example:

  • Boys love their mamas. While my brain instantly plays devil’s advocate and says, “well I love my mama and I’m a girl,” I know that this is really getting at what is unique about the mother/son relationship–they complement each other as opposites, the nurturing feminine and the protective masculine. I really know so little about this and am going off what people are telling me. I love the idea that the baby chose me and we already love each other a lot.
  • He will love going backpacking with you in national parks. I like to think that my kid would dig this either way, and maybe there’s an equal chance that he or she wouldn’t. But it’s a smidge easier to picture a boy getting deeply excited about tearing up a muddy mountain trail and encountering wildlife and learning how to start a fire. (Even if not, I’ll probably force him to go anyway…)
  • Finally, someone to carry on the family name. With all the girls in my family, our surname is perceived to be in some jeopardy. But it is important to notice that I am carrying on the family name by giving it to my son and have no plans of changing it, ever. My single sister seems to be in no hurry to ditch her name in the near future either. So let’s not give this boy all the credit just yet!
  • He will come out with a crown on his head. This one is from J, who was the last-born in a huge family of mostly girls. I think that when his family looks at him, there is indeed a crown on his head. When he goes to visit his family in Venezuela, his grandmother starts crying days before he gets back on a plane to the US. However, even with all us girls, my parents have never once even minorly alluded that they ever wished for a boy or anything different than who we are, and their reaction to this boy is no different. This boy will not be treated as royalty but instead as the fantastically perfect addition to the family that he already is. Period.
  • Yay–I won’t have to go through the pink, sparkly, fairy princess phase! As much as I would like to believe this is true, I know that my boy might be girly. If he wants to grow his hair and wear a skirt, you know me well enough by now to know that I will let him. I guess I’m glad that at least if he goes this direction it will be a sign of individuality rather than conformity, and I won’t say more since I may have another baby and it may be a girl who is obsessed with Disney!
  • Boys are more of a handful as kids and girls are more of a handful as teenagers. Really? It just seems like every phase of development has its challenges, some easier to handle than others, and it’s totally different for every kid. But if you subscribe to this one, tell me why.
  • Boys are pretty straightforward. I get a lot of reassurance from thinking this is true although, again, they didn’t seem so straightforward whenever I was dating them. Are they pretty straightforward and I’ve been overcomplicating things? There’s a good chance this is true (hoping so).

All I know is he is a boy and he has a sweet face and a fight-the-power fist and is thumping the heck out of me right now. I really do picture a soccer player which everyone says but it’s hard not to when you’re the soccer ball. Em has encouraged me to set up daily “fetal love breaks” where I sit and connect with him and count his kicks and develop an intuition about how he’s doing. So far, even through all my illness over the holidays, I’ve always felt like he is thriving in there and a happy little bug.

I’m in the phase of making epic lists, mapping out projects on the calendar, and feeling like time is growing short… I did, however, learn that the third trimester starts at 28 weeks, so that bought me a little more second trimester time to be really productive. Still feeling good (minus the killer charleyhorse from 4 days ago that still has me limping!).

Here is my growing boy at 25 weeks in the Dolo, courtesy of Ms. R:

25weeks

Grateful for the opportunity to learn how to raise a good man for this world.

Happy MLK Jr Day, peace!

xo

 

family, fertility, gratitude, homebirth, IUI, IVF, meditation, outdoors, pregnancy, single mom by choice, SMC, trying to conceive, ttc, writing

wellness and gratitude

After I got back to SF, I went to see my regular doc’s NP on Thursday with my same barking cough and story of woe. How can one really recover while traveling on airplanes at this time of year? She agreed that the original antibiotic seemed to only be kind-of working; no more ‘junk’ in my lungs but still wheezy. No fever, blood pressure normal (so glad). I switched to a Z-pack, Mucinex, and an inhaler and took the next few days to rest at home. So much for minimizing meds, sorry babe. All the coughing had resulted in pain in my rib cage equivalent to getting stabbed, my first-ever hemmorhoid (eek!), and a deep commitment to do whatever necessary to get well.

After a lot of rest, Harry Potter, West Wing (I’m on the last season), More Business of Being Born (did you know they made an additional several hours of documentary?), all those meds, Vitamin C, fluids, I woke up today with clearer lungs–the cough is improving. My ribs feel slightly less painful. I’m concerned though about a new symptom that I discovered last night. I was watching The West Wing and I suddenly realized that the theme song was out of tune, like it was being played by an amateur symphony. I thought something was wrong with my iPad. Then I turned on my computer and the notification sounds also sounded tinny and off. I thought–uh oh, maybe it’s my ears. I booted up iTunes and put on an Arcade Fire song. It sounded like it was being played on an out-of-tune old bar piano. If I plugged one ear it sounded OK, and when I plugged the other it seemed to go down in pitch by a half-step.

This has continued today. It feels like one ear is slightly plugged which certainly should be cleared up by the meds I’m on, but wow how weird. Even the notification that I have a text on my cell phone sounds flat. Voices sound fine. Did a bacteria eat my ear drum?

I am going to get out of the house today, after canceling many plans yesterday and the day before–at a certain point, it’s the inactivity that causes the discomfort. I’ll see some SMC friends and then go on a (mild) walk in the Presidio (if not raining) with my friend S who guided me through Glacier National park 2.5 years ago and is in town!

I woke up this morning and was reading on my iPad in bed, ending up going back in my blog to the beginning of last year. I reviewed last year’s resolutions which could be the same again this year word for word (I had frankly forgotten about most of them)–undercommit, write every day, get out in nature once a week, be on time.  I did OK with undercommitting, shifting into a more fertility-friendly pace. I absolutely did not write every day and almost immediately forgot that resolution as soon as I wrote it down. I mostly got into nature once a week-ish. I moderately improved on punctuality. These are still a work in progress! (Of course I did get pregnant in August, so no complaints here!)

Just after the New Year in 2013, I was also reeling from my 3rd positive that went negative, and gearing up for two more (ultimately failed) IUIs before going ahead with IVF: Mt. Everest looming on the horizon. I got so into the moment, reading those posts, reconnecting with myself a year ago and how it felt to be in that stuck and frustrated place, and then the baby would start kicking and I’d be zoom-fast-forwarded to my new apartment and my soccer-ball belly. I hadn’t looked back in a while and it was the perfect thing to do while sick because it made me enormously grateful all over again to be here with bouncing baby boy on his way, remembering all the hard work and patience and faith and money and time it took to get here.

Tomorrow I will be 24 weeks and on the precipice of the third trimester. Amazing–people have urged me to get lots done in the 2nd trimester and so I guess that ship has sailed. I am reminded that pregnancy is really 10 months–I am at 6 months and have 4 months to go. So, really, the third trimester is the longest–especially for first-time moms who go past their due date. Email me if you have no idea what I’m talking about.

I feel peaceful about my birth plans–signed up for childbirth class w/ two friends, am just about to interview doulas, just need to rent the tub and order the birth kit. It’s everything else that needs a lot of work: rearranging my apartment (J and my parents and I came up with a new scheme in AZ–I’ll have a guest room, big bedroom for me and baby w/ heater, and dining room becomes living/dining), organizing my closets, finishing my registry, going through accumulated stacks of important papers, reading about babies (diaper system? sleep strategies? child care?), creating a living will, upgrading my laundry situation… etc. Swimming, yoga, meditation, walking, writing. But first: get well.

I know many of you are sick too. May you be well! May you be free from suffering! May you be grateful! Take good care of precious you.

xo

anxiety, Buddhism, family, IUI, IVF, meditation, pregnancy, single mom by choice, SMC, trying to conceive, ttc

sicker

I made a quick recovery from the stomach bug but the cough got worse. I steamed, drank a special concoction from my dad (hot water with honey, cider vinegar, and cayenne pepper), ate cough drops, drank lots of fluids, rested as much as I could. But it was time to go to the sales meeting and I depended the cough to neatly resolve itself which…it didn’t. During the first full day, I drank much hot water with honey and lemon, but I kept breaking into coughing fits and people were starting to give me that alarmed look like I should be quarantined. By full day 2, I lost my voice. I was hosting strategy breakfast and was almost unable to communicate in anything but a growl. Finally, I texted Em who wanted me to go to urgent care to have a doctor listen to my lungs.

Fortunately, the disruption to my team was minor because we were well-staffed. I waited 3 hours in urgent care to see the doctor because they only had one doctor on and there were many people waiting. When the doc finally listened to my lungs, I couldn’t take a full deep breath without lots of coughing and he stepped away and said, “You sound TERRIBLE.” He told me that if I don’t already have pneumonia I would soon, and that if I already wasn’t in such good shape I would be knocked out. No more sales meeting–rest, fluids, and a strong antibiotic.

Of course I wasn’t thrilled to have to take medicine, but triple-checked it with Em, Dr. B., and the doctor here confirmed it was a B-class drug for pregnancy, meaning the safest. And the alternative would be to get sicker, an obvious risk in itself. So I went to Walgreens and got the prescription, Emergen-C, Ricola drops, water. Then my phone died so I couldn’t call a cab and the nice people at Walgreens let me use their phone. The hotel sent a woman named Veronica in a black car to get me and I was noting how relatively luxurious it is to be sick on a work trip with an Am Ex corporate card.

My room is comfy (I’m in a JW Marriott) and I spent a while watching junky TV before landing on the season premiere of Downton Abbey. While I had missed the third season, I heard how it ended (thanks to facebook) and found this premiere to be really tepid with no compelling storylines. I hung in there hoping it would get better (it didn’t) before falling asleep for close to 10 hours.

A series of room service orders, naps, and baths later and I am in bed in my bathrobe listening to ambient spa music being piped outside my the open sliding door to the balcony. The antibiotic will take 24-48 hrs to kick in, so the deep wheezy cough is still there, but I don’t feel too miserable. In a few hours, I’ll put on my formal dress and heels and go down to the awards banquet for a little while–there’s lots to celebrate with my team and I want to at least make an appearance and exchange some hugs and high-fives. But not overdo it. And I definitely want to be sitting down the whole time.

At this meeting of nearly a thousand colleagues, there are many hugs and congratulations and everyone seems to already know my circumstances as I’m sure that part of the story travels like wildfire (since it’s unorthodox and therefore interesting). Only once was I asked if it was intentional, and only once was I asked if I’ll be coming back to work–aren’t these question off limits?? There was one colleague who very studiously was not acknowledging my news, and I realized he was waiting for me to tell him–good policy! Another friend told me over and over how proud she is of me for making it happen. Feels nice.

While here, I had two women tell me they’d be interested in knowing more about how I went about getting pregnant on my own because they may end up doing the same. I strive to be a good example to women like this–it helps to get serious about it when you know someone else’s story (for me, it was my friend C). I had another woman get teary and tell me how happy she was for me–and then confided that she’s been trying unsuccessfully to conceive for years and is in the process of trying to adopt. I always want to make it clear that this did not happen easily or quickly for me either–but, then again, what is easily or quickly? It’s all relative, everyone’s story and struggle is unique, and I remember looking at pregnant women on the ‘other side’ and wondering if I’d ever get there, almost disregarding how long her road had been. Does it matter how hard it was if you got there? (I recently told someone it took me “a long time” and she said, “Me too, ten years!” and I instantly felt like OMG–it didn’t take me long at all.) Rather than compare numbers of IUIs and IVF transfers, I can sincerely tell women that if you are totally committed to making it happen, it will happen, one way or another. Just keep trying.

Tomorrow, J and I will head back to my parents’ place for one more relaxing day, then fly back to SF. What a trip. I hope I can manage to stay healthy after this–extensive travel is not promoting good pregnancy health. Only one two-hour flight to go.

I had so much I wanted to say about the silent retreat but the experience got kind of blasted out of the water by all this illness–I never ‘transitioned out,’ I just barreled into survival mode. People have asked me how it went and I have a hard time putting it into words, and no one who hasn’t experienced it can really get it. In fact, I think most people think it sounds nuts to spend money on nothingness and silence. I’ll just say that while it’s happening, it’s intense, enlightening, intimidating, big–all stimulations and distractions are inside your own head. You face the stuff that stays buried underground most days but inevitably causes intermittent or unrelenting stress, anxiety, dread, etc–and it evolves and turns into an action-packed movie with rich visuals, a swirling sea of rising and falling emotions, and a series of surprising visitors, all punctuated by many, many moments of stillness and peace. All I can say is: give it a try.

My boy is growing and moving and I’m shifting into a new level of thinking and planning–it’s the new year, the year he will be born!

New Year’s resolution: clear time and space for new life!

xo

Buddhism, family, meditation, outdoors, pregnancy, single mom by choice, SMC

sick

Hi! I am out of the retreat as of yesterday and, while I don’t have time to write a full post, I am inspired by friends A and V who are committed to writing every day, even if it’s short. The short story is: I am sick.

At the retreat, about which I have lots to say but will have to be bookmarked for later, I started on day 2 or so with a dry cough which graduated into a hacking cough. It felt triggered by new climates and heaters and freezing cold. Then, on the last night, I caught a stomach bug that hit 3-4 of the retreatants, plus one of the teachers, Jonathan Faust (who detailed his ordeal in a dharma talk) and also likely his wife, Tara Brach, the teacher I flew there to see and who disappeared in the last 24 hours. Yes–on New Year’s Eve, I woke up to be sick every hour and sent a mental Happy New Year to each time zone in succession. The next afternoon, mere hours after successfully keeping fluids down, I flew to Phoenix. I ate six crackers and kept drinking water and my parents picked me up and I’ve never been so happy to arrive at Sky Harbor Airport.

I made it without incident! (aside from my exit row seat back which wouldn’t recline which was terribly uncomfortable.) Now my cough is worse and I have to go into my sales meeting tomorrow (mercifully shorter than usual, running from tomorrow night until Tuesday morning), a notoriously packed event and another petri dish. All this air travel is tough on the immune system, despite militant washing my hands, taking my vitamins, and drinking as much water as I can. Looking forward to being grounded after just a couple more trips.

Baby boy seems happy despite these trials, wiggling and thumping away, and growing. It’s a lot for one body, all this!

So, more soon on everything but I am mentally good and just hoping I get all healthy again soon. Meanwhile, I wanted to share the latest belly shot since I think I’m totally off my weekly schedule: my parents and I went to see the Chihuly exhibit at the Botanical Gardens, amazing blown-glass sculptures placed around the gardens and lit up at night. My dad caught this belly shot with a sculpture in the background like a fireball and a gorgeous Arizona sunset which didn’t quite come through:

22weeks

I’m going to breathe some more steam and then take my sick self to bed. Much love!

family, gratitude, homebirth, pregnancy, single mom by choice, SMC

love

Merry Christmas! It is 6:30am and I’ve been awake for a while–jet lag seems to cause these random wake-up times lately–and I’ve already eaten, had some water, and been to the bathroom twice…I’m writing a blog post in my head so I though I’d actually write one. It feels like this period of my life is like Christmas, and now it’s actually Christmas, so there’s a lot of awesomeness to write about.

I dreamt tonight that I gave birth to a snake–and this wasn’t the first time. Is this a phallic dream that means I’m having a boy? The bigger issue in the dream was that it wasn’t time yet, so I was very happy to wake up to find myself not the mother of a premature snake and instead with a little moving pod still happy inside.

I’m in the last hours of not knowing whether this babe is a boy or a girl and they feel sweet, almost bittersweet–I can already feel how all the beginnings bring endings and this first phase of pregnancy and not-knowing will soon be behind me. I feel love and protectiveness for this neutral as-yet-unknown being and sense that once the verdict is pronounced and the onesie is pulled out of the box, that connection will intensify. It’s not so much about pink or blue as anticipating the person who will be my new life partner, learning one big fact about the person he or she will be.

The ultrasound was truly incredible. My friend S and I had lunch beforehand and both got teary about the momentous event ahead. We stopped by the 7th floor so I could give a box of Christmas treats to the doctors, nurses, and staff I got to know so well over the past year and a half, to show my gratitude to them for their compassion and wonderful care. I was amazed to find all of my key players present and available (with the exception of Dr. Tran)–they ran out to greet me in the empty waiting room to ooh and aah over my belly, obviously this is the big payoff of their hard work and it was this hugely heartwarming moment. S snapped a bunch of pictures and, being a reader of my blog, intuitively knew the importance of a photo with Olga–here’s she is, thank you, ladies!

olga

Then we went downstairs to the 2nd floor for the ultrasound. We had a friendly woman named Marta and a big, quiet, dim room with a lotus flower on the ceiling. I told Marta the gender reveal plan and that if she saw something that was maybe but not definitely a problem, I didn’t need to hear about it–she assured me that as the sonographer she would not be interpreting. She would leave that for the radiologists to do afterward. I felt so much more relaxed after that.

She pulled up the images and I saw the many beautiful parts of this developing baby, in awe of a) how Marta could read various shapes and blobs like reading in a foreign language (gall bladder! liver! kidney!) and b) how somehow my body and nature and God had created a new person with all the key parts in the right places–the skull, the brain hemispheres, the heart chambers, the nostrils, the ribs, toes, femurs, and OMG the beautiful, beautiful spine! She had me look away when she measured the pelvis but S said she couldn’t tell what was what anyway. The baby was moving a ton. At one point, when the screen was mostly blank, we saw head-on a fist followed by a foot–punch-kick, kapow!

Toward the end, Marta swapped in a different camera and took a few photos of the baby’s face–at first obscured by a belligerent fight-the-power fist. I haven’t taken photos of these yet and I think they are in the room where my parents are sleeping so I will have to post later. It’s a sweet, sleeping baby face, snuggled against it’s little fist. It sure is different, and totally mind-blowing, to know that this little baby face is my own flesh and blood.

Marta printed the photos (including a souvenir shot for S!) and we were done. She handed S the envelope with the gender verdict. We went down to to the beautiful courtyard where I once sat with A after a sad ultrasound two summers ago, and I felt how far I have come since that time. I left S alone with the box of onesies, the envelope, and some tape. When I came back, I was totally tripping on the fact that she knew the verdict and I still didn’t! She just smiled mysteriously and gave me hugs goodbye. She carried out her mission beautifully and I’m so grateful!

My nieces here in Chicago are so lovey and intrigued with the belly. When the 5-year-old saw the ultrasound photos, she said, “The baby is really taking shape!” The 2-year-old decorated about a dozen presents for various family members and handed me each one, saying, “This one’s for the baby.” (Their responses are especially amazing given that they were seemingly so recently babies themselves.) The rest of the family is orienting themselves around the new year and the approaching due date–who can travel out to SF for the shower? who will be there for the birth and after? I feel how such a big life event can push the occasional button in the planning of it, and also feel strongly my family’s willingness to be there for me in whatever way I need. Plus I have an amazing supporting cast. Thank you, all of you–I couldn’t do this without the community that reads this blog.

Last night, my parents and I watched my midwife’s documentary, “My Baby, My Body, My Birth” (recommend) followed by “The Business of Being Born” (my third time–highly recommend). My dad and I cried over every baby born.

Celebrating a baby born is what we’ll be doing tomorrow (or at least that’s how it started!) and I wish you all a joyful day with your loved ones!!!! Love: that’s what it’s all about. xo

 

Buddhism, family, gratitude, meditation, pregnancy, single mom by choice, SMC, writing

heading east

Guys! I have been wrapping up the year at work and sleeping a lot, and somehow have slipped into a less frequent writing schedule–but, as with so many things (exercise, meditation, baby prep), I intend to improve my writing habits in the New Year! Many more reflections to come; for tonight, I need to focus on packing for my 2-week trip: to see my family, to a 5-day silent meditation retreat, and to a sales meeting. (hoping I can get away with the same outfits to all three–possible?). But first:

I still have my belly shot from LAST Sunday, taken by my sister in Japantown right before we saw Catching Fire–so this shot is 20 weeks. It looks here like I’m ginormous–in reality, I think we can still say the belly is “cute.”

20wks

Tomorrow is the ‘big’ ultrasound, the 20-week (actually 21) anatomy scan. For all the excitement around the gender reveal, I (of course) only care that the baby is healthy. I feel good, and babe is doing backflips a lot (including right now), so as far as my internal checkpoints, all is well. Just bracing myself for what can be a LOT of information (the scan takes up to an hour) and hoping we come out with a great report card.

My dear friend S is accompanying me and I think the universe aligned to send me this particular friend for this particular event–just seems perfect. We’ll have the radiologist write down the gender. After the appt, S will read the result and, of the two onesies I’ll have with me, she will put either the pink one or the blue one in the box (with the radiologist note for confirmation!), and take the other one home so I can’t see it and deduce the result by the process of elimination. I’m bringing lots of tape so I won’t be tempted to peek. I don’t actually think I’ll be tempted to peek–I’ve waited this long, what’s two more days? On Christmas, with the whole fam together, my nieces will open it. This will be a very exciting moment which I can barely think about without bursting into tears.

OK–I wrote more than I had time for–stay tuned for Christmas belly shot, gender reveal, 2013 gratitude, and reflections on 2014.

I wish each of you a joyous holiday season full of peace and love!

xo

onesies)

 

family, gratitude, homebirth, IVF, meditation, parenthood, pregnancy, single mom by choice, SMC

more on how it feels

As I sit down to write after an action-packed biz trip to NYC, I’m reminded of how I’d like to set a New Year’s intention to slooooow down. The evolving pregnancy will require it and I’m craving it. Fewer plans on the calendar, please. This whole fall has felt like a blur as work has required so much of my time and energy, with only the rare quiet moment to sit with my belly and contemplate the life ahead. I need time to be (we are human beings not human doings), especially as I approach 20 weeks and realize we’re already halfway through. And especially as I have a little being on the way who may have an agenda that goes beyond peace and quiet.

The trip was truly great–friends and colleagues all seemed delighted with my news, and for the record not one person who doesn’t know about my process ever asked about the father (sometimes I share, sometimes I don’t, but it’s nice that people are leaving it up to me). Also, not one work person has asked who is going to cover for me while I’m out, how I’ll handle this job with a baby, how long I’ll be out, or when/if I’m coming back. It’s all about how joyful the news is, how I’m feeling, when I’m due, and if I’m finding out if it’s a girl or a boy. Everyone says I look and seem happy. Which is always a lovely thing to have reflected back to you. I do feel happy!

One of my favorite comments was from my work friend JB (famously not a fan of kids) turned to me at the end of a drunken holiday dinner and said meaningfully, “I want to be the friend you turn to when you need a break from talking about the baby.” She also offered to take the kid out for her 16th birthday (she’s sure it’s a girl).

Meanwhile, I’m so aware of how this type of news can push all kinds of buttons for people, having been on the other side for so long. Behind the scenes, some are struggling to get pregnant, or are not on the same page as their partners about getting pregnant, or aren’t sure they’re with the right partner to have kids with, or aren’t sure if they want kids at all, or had a super-rough pregnancy/birth/newborn experience, or miscarried, or maybe some are where I was two years ago–definitely wanting it but with without the dad half of the equation. So I’m especially grateful to receive these joyful reactions, while feeling compassion for the inevitable mix of emotions people are experiencing, as I did while sharing in other people’s joyful news over the years while feeling like I couldn’t get my life to move forward. (I recently saw this Onion article, “Report: Everyone Starting New Exciting Stage of Life Except You.”) I also love how the reactions from parents (especially new parents, shout out to G) have a level of intensity that goes beyond words–tears, touching the belly, wanting more details, awe over what I’m about to experience.

And also the questions I get from women who haven’t yet had babies, because I know I asked these of friends in the past. “What does it feel like–is it so gradual that it just feels normal, or does it feel really new and strange?” I say both. This is a sensation and a time that I want to experience in the moment–there’s nothing like it, it doesn’t last forever, and I can imagine it would be hard to really re-access the feeling long after it’s over. It is so gradual that it feels normal–my flat belly seems like such a thing of the past (I find solace whenever I see a mom with a flat belly!). Yet the belly is new enough that I don’t know exactly where it is in space and I graze it against things like the refrigerator door. Squeezing past someone in the airplane aisle felt really weird today. It feels a lot like when you eat too much and your belly feels a little stretched (and when I eat too much now it feels super duper stretched). Also itchy. Today I noticed that my belly button is looking a little stressed. Mostly I can’t believe that my body is producing such a nice pregnant-looking belly, like in pictures. Everything’s in the right place.

I’m also so grateful that my body is embracing this process with ease so far. People ask me all the time if I’ve been sick or exhausted or had any number of weird or difficult symptoms, and the answer is basically no. I feel great. I eat more and sleep more and I have gone all soft where I used to be muscular, but I feel energetic and all bodily functions are doing their thing without any big problems. Second trimester rocks. After four nights on my friend’s pull-out couch, I was beginning to perceive achey hips but I’m going to chalk it up to the sofabed and start sleeping with a body pillow. I still can’t believe that UCSF put a microscopic embryo inside my uterus and now I’ve gained 15 pounds and there’s a moving baby in there as long as a banana. A miracle.

People also ask about the sensation of the baby moving. I monitored the feeling for about a week before I was convinced it was the baby because at first it just felt like the digestive clicks and rumbles that happen normally. But it was the same feeling in the same place with some consistency. Then it started getting stronger. It really feels like a tiny baby moving in my belly, literally. It’s usually a series of taps or a little shimmy. It’s easy to think it’s always a kick but could be a little fist or butt or head moving around in there. It’s always pleasant, and wonderful to know, viscerally, that baby’s doing fine. The strongest kick was during a company meeting this week in which I was sitting directly across from the president who was running the meeting, and I had eye contact with him when it happened–my reflex was to bend forward slightly and put my hands on it. It felt like more of a stronger swirl in the lower right, maybe two-footed. No one noticed.

I’m not craving any foods in particular but did have almost a whole glass of red wine over a period of a couple of hours last night, which was nice. After even one sip, I feel this nice glow in my extremities, and I swear the baby started doing a happy slow dance.

Just before leaving for NYC, I went to a holiday potluck of the SF Homebirth Collective. These people are rad. I have lots of new friends there who go to prenatal yoga with me and now there will be a dinner party at my friend N’s, with J, and M, and their nice husbands, and we’re all due in April/May. There is a LOT to talk about. Em walked in having just wrapped up a birth and looking sleepy but happy, and after giving me a hug she said my bloodwork results came back and all is normal. Next up is the anatomy scan on 12/23.

I couldn’t get an earlier date and you have to call the radiology dept precisely at 8am or they don’t pick up the phone! So, I am going with it–2pm on Monday, 12/23 and I fly to meet my family in Chicago at 6pm. I don’t have anyone to go with me, and this is a big one where they measure every single thing they can. Most people I know are either working or already on vacation, including my sister. Anyone have flexibility and want to come see my babe?

And, of course, this will be the big gender reveal! However, since I’ll be so close to seeing my family, and Christmas, I’m thinking I’ll have them not tell me and instead write it on a piece of paper and put it in an envelope to be opened later. I picture having my little nieces opening it on Christmas morning with the whole family beside themselves with anticipation. THAT’S going to be exciting.

This photo is overdue–here is me a week ago at 19 weeks, on my street, last Saturday, taken by dear friend C. Her little daughter S put her hands on my belly and said she feels it’s a boy (like almost everyone else!). 20-week photo to come soon. Lots of love to you!

19weeks