Preggo Rant

I love being pregnant. I really, truly do. I love that God has deemed me worthy of becoming a mother and has given me the opportunity to have this baby. I love that my body is going through changes that only other mothers know and understand. I feel like every mom in the world is a member of this exclusive society, and the initiation is pregnancy and childbirth. I can’t wait to complete my initiation and become a lifetime member.

I am in my second half of pregnancy. My belly has rounded out, going from the “has she gained weight?” phase to the “she’s having a baby!” phase. Random people are stopping me and asking me when I’m due. It’s nice. And it’s also hilarious to watch people want to retract their questions as soon as they ask, fearing that I’m not really pregnant and just a little too round in the tummy area. Don’t get me wrong - I don’t feel at all like I’m “due” any special awards or recognition for being pregnant (although the “expectant mothers” parking spaces at some stores are WONDERFUL and should be placed at ALL grocery stores and Targets). But the “Oh my god – congratulations!” and “He’s going to be so beautiful!” comments have really become sunshine points of my days. They are nice buffers between the daily bouts of heartburn, gas, back aches, and swollen feet and toes.

HOWEVER

I am realizing that with the “Congratulations” comments comes the “Let me tell you” conversations. Why, oh why, oh WHY do people feel that they have the right to tell me how to “be” pregnant? Even more so, why do people feel they have the right to tell me how to raise my unborn child? Every. Single. Day. Some self-appointed “parenting guru” feels it necessary to tell me what I should be doing, how I should be doing it, or what to expect in the next few months/during childbirth/for the extent of my child-rearing years. What gets me are the different types of people that I get it from, particularly men and other parents:
Men – First let me say that seeing a man holding a baby, carrying a child on his shoulders, even just holding their child’s hand – anything to do with a man being affectionate with a child (in a non-Dateline “To Catch a Predator”-type of way) absolutely melts my heart. I think dads can be a little overlooked during the pregnancy phase, which is unfortunate as they are usually the target of the many mood swings and the retriever of late-night food cravings. However, and I mean this in the nicest way possible, a man has absolutely no right to tell a woman how she should be feeling during pregnancy. Except maybe the “pregnant man” that used to be a woman who got pregnant (I can’t believe I actually just typed that… only in today’s world). Until you have carried a human being in your body, please do not tell me how or what to feel. If you know some amazing remedy to my current ailments, by all means please tell me. If you have man’s-perspective advice on what I can do or say for/to my hubby as an extreme token of appreciation, by all means please tell me. But, once again, do not tell me how or what I should be feeling physically. *My hubby gets a free pass on this for many reasons. #1 – he was there when baby Luke was created. #2 – he puts up with my many pregnant personalities, often changing without notice. #3 – he reads about pregnancy ailments and milestones and then tells me when they’re probably coming soon (i.e. “Those jalapenos are probably going to start giving you heartburn soon.” Or “You’ve been on your feet too long – they’re probably going to be pretty swollen tonight.” – Both of which he have told me) I think it is absolutely the sweetest thing that he is reading/remembering these things and trying to coach me through them in my moments of hard-headedness.
Other Mothers/Parents – There is nothing more that I can say other than you should know better. Let me throw out a little disclaimer here… I respect mothers and parents in general. I bow down to everything that you do and everything that you have been through. But please don’t lecture me on how much things are going to change when the baby comes. Really, do you think that I don’t know that already? You were given the chance to learn lessons on your own. Please please PLEASE let Kevin and I have the same experience. I’ve also had some mothers tell me “what I’m in for” for the remainder of my pregnancy and their hell-acious labor stories. If all goes according to plan, I will be pregnant for another 4 months. I know that I will get bigger. I know that I will get more and more uncomfortable. I know that certain bodily functions will get worse and new ones may appear. And sweet Lord, I KNOW that labor will be the most painful experience of my life. For my sanity and your safety, please remember what it was like when you were pregnant and others tried to tell you “what you’re in for”. Remember the ping of fury that shot through your body as soon as others tried to tell you. Remember that all you wanted to hear was “You look great. You’ll be fine. And if you need to vent, I’ve been through it and I’m here for you.” Those words are golden to a woman with child.

Let me catch myself before you start to think that I’m some angry head-case that walks around snapping at anyone who tries to speak to me. I appreciate the many mothers, fathers, and friends in my life who have been through this. And I appreciate all of the words of encouragement, support, and advice (I know, that completely contradicts this entire post) that I have received up to this point. The advice has been amazing – what creams to use on my belly for the itching and oh-so-lovely stretchmarks, ideas on nursery room colors, what medicines I can/can not take, and ways to deal with those who offer too much advice are just a few. But these bits of knowledge were received from those near and dear to me, and usually in conversations where I’m asking “What do I do??”

A lesson to those with preggo’s in your life…
Be supportive. Tell her she looks great, and really mean it. Don’t expect her to be capable of everything she was capable of before baby (spending hours walking the mall or grocery store, staying up late to hang out, etc). Expect mood swings and out-of-the-blue tears. And most importantly – when you start to think “Oh my god, I can’t TAKE her anymore! She’s become a monster!”, know that your old friend/sister/daughter/wife is in there somewhere. She’s just going through a lot and is just as confused and frustrated as you are (if not more). Do your best to love her as much as you did before hormones took over her every breathing moment.

Wordless Wednesday

Baby Friends

My two nieces, one month apart in age, met for the first time last weekend. To describe their "play date" in one word: adorable.

Baby, Is That You?

Feeling a baby moving around in your belly… it’s such a strange feeling. Strange and completely amazing at the same time. I love it. I absolutely, whole heartedly love it. I’ve been feeling baby move around for over a month now. At first it started almost like a little tickle from the inside. Many moms call the feeling “flutters”. You know the feeling when you’re on a roller coaster or drive over the top of a hill too fast and your stomach flips? That’s how I’d describe what I felt for a few weeks. Only it wasn’t in my stomach, it was in the area below my belly button. The movements became a daily occurrence, and baby began to move around more in response to certain things. For example, he seems to love it when I drink orange juice. I try to have at least a glass every morning to give me and baby an instant shot of our fruit servings for the day. And it always gets him going. It feels like he’s dancing in there. Another drink he seems to like is water, plainly enough. I can drink a Coke and feel nothing, and then drink a few sips of water and he starts moving. And the food he seems to react to the most is salad. But not just any salad – it has to be a salad from my favorite pizza place. It gets him going every time. A salad from anywhere else doesn’t quite have the same effect.

Back on topic… about a week ago, the movements started getting much stronger. They felt more coordinated, if that makes sense. I told Kevin that it felt like any day, he should be able to start feeling the baby move too. I felt so bad that he hadn’t felt the baby move yet. Here I was, feeling Bun moving every single day and Kevin just had to sit and watch. Actually, he had to sit and listen. I’d always say “Bun’s on the move!” or “That really got him going”, not realizing that it was probably breaking Kevin’s heart that he couldn’t share in the feeling. I would get so excited that he was moving around in there that I’d just blurt it out. Don’t get me wrong – Kevin was excited too, but he wanted to be able to feel what I was talking about. So rewind to a week ago… I started feeling much stronger movements. It was like baby was working on his jab. Whatever it was, it was getting much more powerful than the little “flutters” from the weeks before. So I started walking around with my hands glued to my stomach. I wanted to feel it from the outside, and I wanted to be sure that’s what it really was before I got Kevin’s hopes up.

It happened Friday night. After 3 days of constant hands-on-belly, I was laying in bed watching tv (yes I know, my Friday nights are too exciting for most to handle…). My hands were on my belly by chance (my belly’s getting to the size where it’s hard to put my hands anywhere BUT the belly when I’m laying down..). And there was a little jab on the lower right side of my gut. Instinctively, I shrieked. Then there were 2 more little jabs in the exact same place. I shrieked again. I had been waiting on this moment for months, and there I sat shrieking at my stomach like a maniac once it finally happened. It wasn’t at all what I was expecting, but then again, how do you really know what to expect of something kicking from inside of you? Ponder that for a second…

I yelled for Kevin to “Get in the bedroom RIGHT NOW” – something that probably gave him the impression that I suddenly felt the need for nookie because he was there in a flash, kicking his shoes off as he came through the door. Much to his disappointment, there I sat in bed, fully clothed, holding my side, jaw dropped, and tears in my eyes (sidenote: My reaction to just about ANYTHING lately is to tear up). “I felt him – give me your hand.” We must’ve sat there for 10 minutes with both of our hands covering every square inch of my belly, waiting for any kind of movement. And there was nothing. Kevin was disappointed. And I felt awful.

…Fast forward a couple of hours…

We’re both in bed watching tv. I could feel baby moving on the inside again, so I nonchalantly moved Kevin’s hand from holding my hand to resting on my belly just over the spot where I could feel baby moving around. After a few minutes, I felt a really big thump. I jerked my head towards Kevin to see if he felt it. There he sat, smiling, looking at my stomach from the corner of his eye. “Was that him?” All I could do was smile and tear up.

Hello, Baby!

I decided to change the name of my blog. I wanted something a little more relevant to me right now. So I picked two of my favorite things. Flip flops and maternity pants. It just doesn't get more comfortable than that. 6 months ago, the name may have been something like "High heels and Chardonnay". But this whole "baby mania" has turned my world upside down. And I am loving every second of it. Well, almost every second of it. I have my bad moments, which are becoming more and more frequent. But I digress.

I haven't seen our baby on screen since I was 7 weeks pregnant. My doctor ran an ultrasound just to confirm that there was, indeed, a baby hanging out in my uterus. And that's when we saw it for the first time - this little bean-shaped blob attached to the wall. We were in total shock to see this living creature INSIDE of me. We were reeling - excited and totally freaked out at the same time. After that, there were no more ultrasounds. There was no medical need for them - I was low risk and everything in my bloodwork and lab tests seemed to show normal results. But once I accepted the fact that I was in fact pregnant, I wanted to see my baby more. I wanted to see it every day. Every. Single. Day. I read every week to see what was going on with it - what new organ systems he/she was developing. How big it was. How much it weighed. I rented a fetal doppler so that Kevin and I could listen to the heartbeat whenever we wanted. I was absolutely in love with this baby, and I hadn't even really met him/her yet. Kevin and I kept a countdown for my 20 week mark - that was when we'd get another ultrasound and get another look at our baby.

That 20 week mark came on December 29th. We woke up pumped. That was the day we were going to see the baby again, and with any luck find out if it was a boy or girl. I'd had a gut feeling for a few weeks of what the baby was, but in all honesty all I wanted to hear was whether or not our baby was healthy. I wanted to hear that it had all of its organs, its measurements were good, and it was developing as it should be. And if the baby was feeling less-than-modest that afternoon and we could see whether it was a boy or girl, fan-freaking-tastic - that would be icing on the cake.

Everything went as perfectly as we could've hoped for. We watched the baby move around on the screen. He/she moved his/her hands around its face and stretched its legs out as we watched in awe. Our baby was BIG! So much different than the little bean shape from 13 weeks before. This is probably the most precious thing that I've ever seen - it's my favorite ultrasound picture that we got. Tiny baby feet.

And then the big news. The ultrasound tech said she was 100% positive she could tell whether it was a boy or girl. Of course we said we wanted to know, and she confirmed what my gut had been telling me for weeks. She confirmed that I had some inkling of maternal instinct that I was seriously doubting I was capable of having.

WE'RE HAVING A BOY!!!

Baby Luke, we can't wait to meet you. See you in May.

Happy 2009!

Happy New Year! I was thinking last night about everything that happened in 2008 - it was probably one of my busiest years yet.

• I started a new job - entering a field that I knew nothing about - with hope and determination to kick some ass.
• I found out what it was like to live without my husband for 2 months while he was in Malaysia on business.
• I took my first solo international trip to visit hubby while in Malaysia.
• I turned 25 - an age I'd feared for so long. And it really hasn't been so scary so far ;)
• I traveled the country for nearly three months straight for work - hello frequent flier miles!
• I became mortally obsessed with a book series.
• I made new friends and mourned the loss of a family member.
• I watched both of my nieces turn one year old - my GOD how time flies!
• I argued with a pregnancy test that tried to tell me there was a baby in my uterus.
• I surrendered after 4 pregnancy tests and embraced pregnancy, with all its ups and downs.
• I put my best friend to sleep and tried to figure out what in the world I was supposed to do without her - I'm still trying to figure it out in 2009.
• I moved into a house that my husband and I designed and watched come to life over the course of 5 months.

Overall, 2008 was a year of change for me. I learned that I am capable of so much more than I give myself credit for. And I also learned that I needed the support of family, friends, and my incredible husband more than I ever imagined I would. I am so lucky to have everything that I do, and I am so lucky to have so many incredible people in my life. I only hope that 2009 will bring both challenges and laughter to continue shaping me into the person I strive to be.

Loss of a Friend

On Thursday December 11th, I lost my best friend and side-kick of over six years. Abbi was more than a pet, she was my forever loyal and constant companion.

In November 2002, I was laying on the floor of my apartment in Mississippi. I was flipping through channels, anxiously waiting for my sister to return from a trip back to Houston to visit our family. Normally, I didn't stare at the clock counting the minutes until her arrival. But that time was different. She was bringing something back for me. She was bringing me a puppy - an early Christmas present from my parents. Before laying my eyes on this puppy, I had already named her. Abbi. I remember the apartment door opening and I never once looked up to greet my sister. My eyes instantly locked on this tiny, black and white, runt-looking creature that came trotting through the door. I fell in love as she ran straight for me, like she was waiting to meet me too, not even caring to sniff around her new home. I picked her up to eye level, letting her lick me all over my face. And that was the beginning of our friendship.

As she physically got older, Abbi never seemed to age a single day. She got bigger, yes, but her puppy mentality seemed eternal. Whether we were at home or visiting friends or family, it seemed Abbi's personal mission in life to kiss every single person there. She wouldn't stop until she was satisfied that you had gotten all of the kisses you could stand. I think she may have even converted some non-dog-lovers to her side. Once Kevin and I had moved to Houston and into a house, we still seemed to be learning new things about Abbi. One was that this dog could run. FAST. Once she was out of the apartment and had her own backyard, she never wanted to stay inside. She loved being outside, and if our other Boston Terrier Baxter (who we bought 2 1/2 years after Abbi) was outside with her, she'd run him all over the yard. Almost like she was taunting him, proving to the rest of us that she was the fastest dog in the land. Something else we discovered about Abbi was that she loved to swim. Whether we were at the dog park or at my parents house, Abbi would go barreling into the pool. A few times, I went outside to check on her and she was swimming laps by herself in my parents' pool. She was dubbed "little fish" because she'd jump in, no matter what month of year it was, and occasionally swim under water to make sure everything underneath her was as it should be. Early on in her lifetime, we also discovered that Abbi smiled. Not the kind of smile that a lot of owners claim their pets do where the corners of the mouth turn up and the tongue hangs out while they're panting. No, my baby had a big, toothy grin. I think it started by accident because of her slight underbite, and then she caught on that we responded positively when she did it. So it became a method of endearment for her. When Kevin or I ate, Abbi would sit next to us or on the floor in eye sight with a big grin. Or if one of us wasn't in the best mood or Abbi did something that resulted in scolding, she'd flash a grin like "I'm sorry - does this make it better?" And it always did.

In January 2008, Abbi had her first seizure. I had no idea that's what it was at the time - it was so minimal. I saw the whole thing happen, grabbed her into my arms to see what was wrong, and of course she covered my face in kisses. The fact that this dog's top priority was to show affection, even while suffering a seizure, still amazes me. Once it was over, Abbi was totally fine. Like nothing happened. So I blew off the incident - I had no idea it was the beginning of something awful. Three months later, the same thing happened. The exact same thing. Only a second episode followed about 10 minutes after the first was over. I didn't blow it off this time. We went to the vet. The vet dismissed it - it didn't sound like seizures, she said. No tests, no bloodwork. Maybe it was a reaction to Kevin being gone, she said - he was coincidentally out of town both times it happened. So we went home. It wasn't seizures, thank God. Or at least that's what we were told. Until July 4th weekend when this (see previous post) happened. It solidified my worst fears. They were seizures. Abbi had fluid on her brain causing them. From July to present, Abbi continued a vigorous schedule of medications. They had to be given at certain times to keep her blood levels and brain activity levels stable, otherwise she could enter another episode of seizure activity. Kevin and I had to schedule our days around her medicine times. Did we care? Absolutely not. She was like our child, and there was absolutely no question that we'd do whatever was necessary to keep her healthy. She had a few small seizures in August, but they were minimal and totally manageable. Then nothing until Sunday December 7th. She had a big seizure. Kevin and I were able to stop it with her dog-Valium. All was well again. Monday was perfectly normal. Abbi was extremely affectionate - moreso than usual. And she was antsy. We both noticed it, but wrote it off to her maybe being stressed out from the packing and moving boxes that were collecting in preparation for our big move. Now we think that the affection and antsy behavior was her way of trying to tell us something big was about to happen. Tuesday December 9th I went home from work early. I wasn't feeling well. Something was off - it wrote it off as pregnancy related. So I spent the afternoon napping on the couch with Abbi curled up next to me. It was our last time to just BE. At 8PM she had a small seizure. We gave her Valium which helped, but not as much as it had with her seizure a few days before. So I took her to bed. I fell asleep with my arm around her, so I'd feel if she had another seizure. I just had a bad feeling I would. At 11PM I woke up to her having a severe one. Kevin and I gave her another dose of Valium, which did nothing. So we went to the Animal ER. It was exactly like it happened back in July. They kept her overnight and referred her to her neurologist the next morning. Only this time, Abbi seemed worse. Something wasn't like it was in July. I couldn't put my finger on it, but something wasn't right. Kevin and I discussed the possibility of putting her to sleep with her neurologist. We all decided to give her until Friday the 12th to see if she could snap out of it. I never thought it possible to pray and cry over a pet so much during those days. On Thursday the 11th, her neurologist told me they'd found pneumonia in Abbi's lungs. That in combination with her brain disease was basically shutting down her respiratory system. We made the decision - it was the hardest decision I've ever made in my life. One that I'd never wish on anyone. But I couldn't let her suffer.

Kevin and I were both with her when she passed the afternoon of December 11th. Abbi was sedated, but aware that we were with her. I was at her head, kissing all over her face while her neurologist gave the injection. I know Abbi would have turned the table and kissed all over my face if she'd had the strength. Once it was over and they took Abbi from the room, I felt like they were taking my heart with her.

I know that we made the right decision. There was no way that Abbi would ever be the same, if she even recovered from the pneumonia. Kevin and I knew in our hearts that as much as we wanted to be selfish and keep her with us, we couldn't let her suffer. Now we're trying to figure out how to be without her. All three of us - Kevin, me, and Bax - are trying to adjust. I think the hardest times for me are right before bed and again when I wake up. Those were "our" times. We'd lay in bed and cuddle, usually for hours before Kevin and Baxter would come claim their man-space in bed. And in the mornings, I would wake up face to face with Abbi - under the covers with her head propped up on my pillow, just like me. Every morning, she'd get out of bed with me and lay in the bathroom while I got ready for work. Then we'd get her medicine and I'd put her back in bed with Kevin and Baxter before I left. I still roll over in the mornings expecting her to be right there. I never thought I could miss an animal so much. But a pet becomes such a fixed part of your life, and when they're suddenly gone, it takes time to get used to that seperation.

There's a well-known story in the world of grieving pet owners. I cry every time I read it, but it also brings me comfort. Get your tissues ready if you're a pet-owner:

The Story of Rainbow Bridge

Just this side of heaven is a place called Rainbow Bridge.
When an animal dies that has been especially close to someone here, that pet goes to Rainbow Bridge. There are meadows and hills for all of our special friends so they can run and play together. There is plenty of food, water and sunshine, and our friends are warm and comfortable.
All the animals that had been ill and old are restored to health and vigor. Those who were hurt or maimed are made whole and strong again, just as we remember them in our dreams of days and times gone by. The animals are happy and content, except for one small thing; they each miss someone very special to them, who had to be left behind.
They all run and play together, but the day comes when one suddenly stops and looks into the distance. Her bright eyes are intent. Her eager body quivers. Suddenly she begins to run from the group, flying over the green grass, her legs carrying him faster and faster.
You have been spotted, and when you and your special friend finally meet, you cling together in joyous reunion, never to be parted again. The happy kisses rain upon your face; your hands again caress the beloved head, and you look once more into the trusting eyes of your pet, so long gone from your life but never absent from your heart.
Then you cross Rainbow Bridge together....

Abbi will be forever missed. There are no better words to say it.

Please Stay Back At Least 4FT

Hormones.

Surging, raging hormones. They have almost completely taken over my actions, my facial expressions, and most unfortunately my speech. The first few months, my hormones remained at bay. Sure, the Chandra monster would raise its ugly little head occasionally. She'd snap at a few people, give the hubby a dirty look, and then go back into hibernation. Totally manageable with quick recovery. Lately, though, HOLY MOTHER OF GOD. Sometimes I feel like pure evil. And admittedly, sometimes I like it. I say things that I've always wanted to say, but never previously had the cahongas to say. Take this morning for example. I was on the phone with a customer service rep for one of my credit cards. I told the woman she was incompetent - seriously, I literally told her she was incompetent. She had absolutely no idea what she was doing. God bless her if it was her first day, but she was being obnoxious and not doing her job and I told her just that. For reasons like this occurance, my hubby has done his best to prevent me from interacting with the public. AT ALL POSSIBLE. Apparently, hormonal Chandra feels it is her civic duty to seek out those who cannot do their job at peak performance levels and tell them what a failure they are.

However, as with most things, there are two sides to this sword. Sometimes I feel awful when my mouth or body language reacts without my permission. Most of the time, this involves me snapping at my innocent husband. It's happened more often that I'd ever imagined, and I've learned to do something that I've always dreaded. Swallowing my pride and apologizing. OFTEN. I've never been a fan of such. But evil Chandra makes it impossible to avoid. Too bad we're only about 1/2 way through this roller coaster ride. God love him for sticking with me.

On a completely different note, we move into our new house THIS FRIDAY!!! Over Thanksgiving holiday, we received an offer on our current house that we absolutely could not refuse - they were offering EXACTLY what we had the house listed for (i.e. no obnoxious and stressful price negotiations). There were only 2 catches - they needed our help with the closing costs, and they wanted to close December 12th (which at the time gave us TWO WEEKS). Without hesitation we said DONE and DONE. With some frantic phone calls and a little pressure on our construction manager, we seemed to have pulled it off. Both our current house and our newly constructed house will be closed on Friday. Details are still being worked out with the lenders, and our new home is getting its finishing touches as we speak. So it's not a done deal YET, but we're thisclose. When I tell you that we are excited, it's probably the biggest understatement of the century. To move to a brand new house that Kevin and I designed from the framework up, not to mention the fact that we'll be back in SPRING - just minutes away from my family and our best friends - is such an amazing feeling. I just hope nothing falls through. At this point, I don't think we'd allow anything to fall through. I'll be sure to post pictures once we're in!