Amniocenteses

Sounds scary, and it is.  It's when they stick a needle through my belly and into your amniotic sack to retract some fluid so they can test for genetic abnormalities.  I already know you have none and that you are perfect.  But it's important to do when you are in your late 30's, or so they say.  And who am I to argue with them?  Whoever they are.

I had anxiety dreams about it all night, so did your dad, and coupled with this nasty head cold I have, didn't get any sleep at all.  Visions of giant needles danced in my head while I attempted to breathe like a human being.  It was a difficult night at best.  Exhausted and feeling crappy, we went to our appointment.  But on the way we stopped for Noah's Bagels and that made me happy, for some strange reason. I have had some very specific comfort food cravings today; a soft warm bagel with cream cheese, matzo ball soup, and now a chicken pot pie with ben and jerry's for dessert.  Not a lot of greens going on today.  But I'll make up for that tomorrow.

We arrived at the office early. It was a different doctor highly referred by Dr. Dwight who specializes in amnios.  It was at the fancy shmancy hospital called Cedars Sinai in the heart of Beverly Hills.  Although I have never liked Beverly Hills, I liked our Doctor right away.  While I was peeing for the umpteenth time your Papa was making wonderful small talk with our doctor in his office.  He had three copies of the Four Agreements on his book shelf, a favorite of your Dad's.  This started a lovely conversation about spirituality, Alcoholics Anonymous, gurus, and God that lasted all the way through the procedure and just afterwards.  Dr. Wonderful only paused in our discussion for two things, to point out your amazing little body on his high tech ultra sound and to actually insert the needle and take the fluid.  The first part, seeing you up close and personal, was really magical.  Your Dad was holding my hand and together we watched you kicking your legs and waving your little arms around, as if you were dancing to the Devo I had been playing non-stop in our car for the past few days.  Dr. Wonderful finally got a glimpse between your legs and he said he was more then 95% positive that yes, indeed, you were a girl.  He even mentioned that he thought he could see your labia which made me kind of blush for you and want you to close your legs.  But hey, what can I say, I'm modest and shy. Although I know hearing that from me might make some people laugh.

Then we got to the second part.  The scary part. I admitted I was terrified. But between the doctor, the lovely nurse assisting him who admitted her own grapplings with God, and my amazing husband and your father in the room giving me strength, I knew it would be okay.  I didn't even look at the needle but just stared at you on the ultrasound monitor willing you to be okay and sending you my love.  He told me I would definitely feel the needle going in, and I did.  Then I saw the tip of it pierce your sack.  It almost made me want to cry.  But I wanted to be strong too.  The Dr. told me to count to 10 while he retrieved the fluid.  I think I held my breath.  My eyes never left the monitor. The Dr. said you were being amazingly cooperative and the nurse emphatically agreed. You were laying there so sweetly and innocently, not moving a muscle when minutes before you were breakdancing. It was magical.  I imagined you looking (although I know you don't see yet) at this foreign object piercing your world and thinking, What the fuck is that???

I was so proud of you Squirt.  You were such a good little girl today.  You made me so proud.

When he took the needle it out the whole thing was over and hadn't lasted more then 10 minutes and phew, finally, we were done.  I let out a huge breath.  He shook our hands and we left the office.  I didn't realize till we were waiting for the elevator that my whole body was shaking and all I wanted to do was cry.  I hugged your Dad and he held me tight as we waited and walked to our car. We made it.  We did it.  It was over.  And now we can move on.

I know we have to wait 10 days for the results, but I already know what they will say.

You are perfect.  Absolutely perfect.

I love you.

Mom

Belly Picture

Okay- this is what I looked like this morning.  With no make-up on.  Feeling like poop.

Lately, your Papa likes to say, Holy shit you are really pregnant!  Like he's discovering it for the first time.  It's a little endearing game he enjoys playing.  It's more endearing for me to see his eyes light up when he sees you in my belly.  He can't stop looking. He becomes mesmerized. Like I've hypnotized him and can then make him do whatever I want him to.  Strut like a chicken or whatnot.  Not that I would ever do that.  Cruelty is not my style.  But it really is like in the cartoons you'll be watching where the person gets stars in their eyes.  It's super cute.

Hard for me to see it though.  I have one view of you, usually, and that is from the top down.  I rub you a lot and talk to you all day.  I hope you like my music I rock out to in the car.  I really hope you don't like shitty music.  That would suck.  But with parents like Tim and I, I think the chances of that are rather slim. You go to AA meetings too, by the way.  And listen to many stories of courage, strength, and hope.  You might get a kick out of the clapping.  Or you might end up kicking me when they clap.  We'll have to wait and see.  I have been trying to feel  you fluttering in there.  Doing your somersaults and back flips.  But not yet.  All I feel so far I think is gas.

I've gotta get back to work.  I feel dizzy and light headed today with a slight headache and dreamed all night about your Uncle Strider getting out of jail and sharks with double rows of razor sharped teeth.

I love you.  Have fun doing your gymnastics in there. Hang tight.  Friday we have an appointment for an amniocenteces and you and I both need to be strong for that.

Big love,

Mom

We Heart Dr. Dwight!

We met Dr. Dwight today, your Obgyn.  He's the man that will be catching you when you enter into this world and I can't think of a better person for the job.  The difference in demeanor and warmth between him and the other (who shall remain nameless from now on) is like night and day.  From the second we walked into the welcoming waiting room until we were ushered into the more sterile yet still warm somehow doctor room where we were to be examined, we both couldn't believe how much better we felt.  We just knew we were in more compassionate environment.  It leaked through the walls.  And we hadn't even met the famous Dr. Dwight yet.  Tim and I made each other laugh while I sat there naked under a hospital gown anxious and curious.  Then it happened. A light knock on the door and then sunshine entered the room in the form of a tall and thin grey haired angel in scrubs.  He gave us this gigantic smile, shook my hand while introducing himself, and while shaking Tim's hand, said, "Do you two know each other?"  I laughed and replied, "Only intimately."  

It was an amazing start.  He spent almost an hour with us explaining his theory and practice which all centered around natural child birth.  I had tears in my eyes, I was so relieved.  Finally here was a doctor speaking my language.  He used words like; no iv, no fetal monitor, birthing tub, moving around in labor, dim lights, music, and dancing fairies if you so wished.  Tim gave me a knowing look when he said fairies, how did Dr. Dwight know??  He was magic.  I wanted to hug him.  And that was before the ultrasound.  This was pretty amazing Squirt.  I still get choked up just thinking about it.  He put the warm gel on my belly and applied the thing that finds you, Tim grabbed my foot while we all stared at the little screen with the strange blobs and blurs in it.  He found you right away.  We saw your head. It was really cute. And then he found another angle, you were hanging out with your legs apart.  I could easily make out your femur bones on either side.  And that was when Dr. Dwight narrowed in and explained that we were looking to see what the gender was between your legs.  We had already told him we wanted to know, if he could tell.  He asked us then if we had a preference.  Tim said no I said well...a girl.  But I'll be happy with whatever is healthy.  And that's when he said the most beautiful words I have ever heard strung together besides when your Papa said "Will you marry me?",  Dr. Dwight said "Looks like you guys have a daughter."  There were no franks and beans.  None.  I could even tell.  80% sure he said.  I wanted to start crying but was too embarrassed to do it in front of everyone. So I held it in.  Cuz I'm tough like that.  Then it was over and we were ready to go.  I think Tim and I were in shock, the best shock ever.  I wanted to start sobbing in his arms out of happiness right away but I kept it together.  We made it out of the hospital walking on air.  In a slight daze as we ate lunch together before going our separate ways back to work.  We kept saying, "Oh my god." And "I love him"  "I wish I could hug him" and "I wish I had a small Dr. Dwight to keep in my pocket all day."  

On my way home from work I really lost it because I realized something so profound- I was going to be able to give you the greatest gift I could ever give my daughter; Tim as your father.  You are going to grow up with a father that adores you, will never hurt you or abandon you.  That is huge. That is bigger then huge, that is...I don't even know how to explain it.  I can give you something I never had.  Nothing else matters.  I can rest assured for the rest of my life that I finally have done something right.  I fell in love with the right person.  For once.  I found my soulmate and we are going to have a baby together and that love child is you.  Your Dad just told me that today was the happiest day of his life, second to the day he met me.  See?  Lottery.

Sweet dreams little one.  

Mom

Food- to eat it or not to eat it.

Eating has become the bane of my existence.  In theory it seems so lovely.  I always thought that once I got pregnant, that was, IF I ever got pregnant, I could finally eat all those delicious out-of-bound foods I'd been admiring from afar for so long.  Things like macaroni and cheese, powder coated doughnuts, a juicy steak, and pop-tarts.  And although bread and cheese was all that satiated me for the first trimester the mere thought of it now makes me feel woozy. My whole relationship with food has changed in this trimester.  It's not that I'm nauseous all the time, like I was, it's that nothing tastes right when I eat it.  It's the strangest thing. I'll think I am craving something, like a fresh salmon salad, but the second I take the first bite a trigger goes off and I can't take another.  I've spent many a wonderful meal that your Papa has so lovingly created for us forcing myself to keep chewing for fear of offending.  But it's not the food that is the problem.  His cooking is divine.  And I could be at a 5 star restaurant, it doesn't matter, I can't enjoy the food I eat, most of the time.  I guess it's what they call, Food Aversion.

Clue:  early on my dear friend six months pregnant with her second child warned me, "ORDER BLAND" she said.  "You might think you want that spicy exotic sounding thing but trust me, if  you order it, you will regret it."  And she was right.  It's like my stomach and head have lost contact with each other and one wants one thing while the other wants something completely different.  And there is no communication going on. They've gone rogue.  I hate it. I feel like I am wasting money eating out. And eating in is just as complicated.  It's incredibly frustrating as I used to LOVE food.  And now it just doesn't taste right.  And don't even get me started on dark leafy greens.  Used to be my favorite thing to eat.  Now it just makes me gag. So strange.

I've heard pregnant women talk about cravings as well as if this can determine the sex of your baby.  Sweets means a girl and salty means a boy.  Well, I craved cheese and bread the first trimester and this trimester I just cycled through a strange case of gummi bears, blow pops, and popsicles.  I haven't eaten those three items in almost 15 years, I'd say.  But I think today was the end of the sugar run.  I am starting to get massive headaches and a strange rash all over my chest and back along with little bumps on my face.  Not fun at all.  My last blow pop didn't even taste that good.  Grape.

Tomorrow I vow to begin anew.  To attempt a more balanced diet. I think I can now. A bland balanced diet void of sugar and dairy.  Nothing really good ever comes from consuming sugar and dairy, now then does it? But I've heard a lot of good that comes from avoiding the two.  I don't want you, Squirt, to feel all hopped up on the sugar junk or itchy and constipated from the dairy. I want you feeling the best you can possibly feel.  And I want to make the best breast milk I possibly can for you.  It's my job. To ne healthy.

I can do it. Even if it makes me puke.

I love you more than organic pink peppermint ice cream.

Mom

Week 15- Avocado

Squirt!!

It's been far too long. Your Papa is shirking his photo responsibilities so I am gonna write to you anyways, photo or no.  I'll just describe myself to you.  I look fabulous!!!  No, seriously though, I think I am huge but according to other women who have had babies before me, I am tiny for four months.  But you are HUGE!!  You are the size of an avocado, my friend.  A very nice fruit to be, actually.  I am rather fond of avocados.  Although I prefer them in their original form instead of all mashed up with other bits of stuff added in.  Meaning, I am not the biggest fan of guacamole.  I don't mind it, but given a choice, I'll take sliced avocado any day.

I took my first prenatal yoga class last Sunday and really enjoyed it.  There were four other pregnant women in the room with two women who brought their 6 month old babies with them.  Listening to the coos and aahs of the babies while in downward dog was something else.  So was watching a woman who is due in 3 weeks doing a handstand.  

I'm sitting at a coffee shop with the sun beating down my back through the window and it's making me want to leave.  I want to go home and take a nap.  I just might do that.  I thought I could stay here and get some work done but that ain't gonna happen.  There are so many people here on their laptops furiously writing the next oscar winning screenplay.  It's hilarious.  I get so sick of Los Angeles sometimes. I have always wanted to live in another city.  Maybe by the time you are old enough to remember we'll be in Northern California.  I don't know where in Northern California.  Just somewhere. 

Hollywood Culture aside, one thing I really do love about LA is the hiking.  Especially on the Westside. It's worth the drive.  There is a group called The Mountain Goats that have been meeting at 7:30am on Saturdays at different trails in the Santa Monica Mountains for over 30 years and I had the pleasure of running with them on a few occasions before you came into my belly. And unbeknownst to you at this point, I am planning on taking you with me as soon as I possibly can.  Hopefully we'll even be able to talk your Papa into coming with us and making a family trip out of it!  We'll get up at the crack of dawn, which I imagine we'll be getting up at anyways, pack up the BOB stroller, diaper bag, and other necessities and head on out.  The trails are stunningly beautiful and I can't wait to share them with you.  This afternoon with my creative writing group at the Foster Home I asked each one of them to talk about that one place where they felt total peace and contentment.  And for me, it was hiking in the mountains.  I just love it.  Or swimming in the clean Pacific down in Baja.  Either or.  I'll take them both.

That's all I have for now.  I just started an 8 week writing workshop and need to do some writing for that as well.  Oh no!  With all this writing I might just become an actual writer someday!  Now wouldn't that be fun.  

I love you mountains and oceans.

Mom

Week 14- Lemon?

Okay Squirt, how is it that you go from a Peach to a Lemon?  The only way I can understand it is to imagine that they mean an organic peach, which is relatively small, and a genetically modified lemon, which is relatively large, compared to the organic ones we buy, which are tiny.  That's the only reasonable explanation I can come up with.  Hmph.

I spoke too soon when I said I was feeling great and had turned a corner.  I felt like a piece of chewed up and spit out gum being wrangled off of somebody's old shoe the last couple of days.  It's been rather awful. Hopefully today will be better.

I was excited yesterday though when I ran into an old friend of mine on the Westside who, after I jumped up to hug her and blurted out I was pregnant, responded with I KNOW!!  Meaning, she could tell just by looking at me!!!  Hallelujah. Finally I don't just look like I've been gorging on pizza and beer.

Here's an image for you- granted these morning shots are not particularly attractive but try to focus on the belly and not my face, please.

I'm not quite sure what I was thinking with my sweats that used to be baggy on me.  They might have to be suspended for awhile.  It's hard letting go.  I find myself in denial with certain clothing.  It's like I want to keep the dream alive or something.

The reality is that I am pregnant.  There is no arguing that.  And the skinny jeans and size xs sweats dream is fading fast and that's perfectly fine with me.  There are way better dreams to have and your Papa and I are dreaming them about you and us and we as a family everyday.

Lastly, before I head off to work, we have a new name for you.

Logan.

Love,

Mom

Week 13- Peach or a Milking Cow

This is gonna be quick because I am at work and trying to look like I am actually accomplishing very important tasks.  Of which, I really do have to accomplish at some time today.  I love my job Squirt.  I really do and I feel so lucky that I get to do it everyday.  Your Dad feels the same way about his work and I know how rare that is, to love your job.  I think it defines success, doing something you love everyday, regardless of how much money it brings you.  I am making a third of what I made acting but I am a thousand times happier.  I never miss it.  I celebrate being away from it.  I wasn't cut out for the ruthless self-marketing and networking that it required.  I am still amazed I had as much success as I did, which was  a hundred times more then most.  I really wish two things for you; that you also love what you do for a living and that you never want to be an actor.  That's all.  Or a smoker.  Both are kind of gross.

Moving on-

You have been a peach this whole week.  Pun totally intended.  I think we have turned a corner, you and I, the last two days.  I feel awesome. No nausea, I have an actual appetite, and some energy.

Here you are:

and here I am:

I look slightly miserable because I had just gotten out of the shower and your Papa was adamant that we shoot the photo outside in the brisk cold air.  But you can see you poking out, right?  It's cute.  I love that I can see you more.  I have been reading birthing books like a madwoman and my mantras throughout the days are; relax, take it easy, easy does it, what's the big deal...which is surprisingly easy for me to do because as your Aunt Vanessa so brilliantly described it, my emotional life somewhat resembles that of a milking cow.

Things don't bother me or excite me as much.  Which for me, is a really, really, really, good thing.

I feel super chill and I like it.

Bye for now,

love,

Mom

Pregnancy Brain

It just took me about ten minutes of staring blankly at my computer screen to remember that I was going to write a new blog.  I seriously turned on my computer, waited for it to boot up, and in that brief amount of time, completely forgot what I was turning on my computer for.

Now I can't remember all the little stories and tidbits I was going to share with you.  Oy vey.  Such is life, these days.

I can remember that I am now being barraged by intense feelings of exhaustion. I have to leave work as fast as I can the past few days so I can run home and lie down before I pass out either at my desk, on the road, or in our driveway.  I remember this because I just woke up from one of my 'naps.'  Although I wouldn't necessarily call it a nap, it's not like any nap I've ever had before, it's like I'm Michael Jackson being put to sleep with diprivan.  I walk in the door, out of breath from the two flights of stairs we have, drop everything I'm holding on the table, pick up my woobie, lie down, and close my eyes.  Then it's off to another world for almost an hour.  I don't move a muscle during this time.  I wake up in exactly the same position I started in and I feel like I've been hit by a bus.  I know I must snore.  I'm on my back, how can I help it, but I don't even hear it.  And I'm a super light sleeper, Tim breathes differently and I wake up, so this is super strange for me. I'm hoping this passes soon.  It's putting quite the damper on my afternoon walks I was so looking forward to taking in my second trimester.  I have been taking yoga though, that is an improvement in my exercise regime and I am able to finally eat vegetables again.  So I know there is a God.

Another reason to praise Allah is that I finally broke the Blue Shield HMO code and we will finally be seeing the doctor and delivering at the hospital I've wanted since day one.  His name is Dr. Dwight and although he is Heidi Fleiss's father, he is a legend in these parts.  He has caught nearly all of my friends babies and they swear by him on the Booby Brigade.  Not only that, but he delivers at Good Samaritan Hospital which is apparently the only natural birth friendly hospital in the region.  He is super birth, baby, mommy friendly and loves working with doulas.  All I had to do was call his office, get a referral from him for a primary care physician in his medical group, contact that doctor, make sure they were accepting new HMO patients, call my insurance, tell them I was switching, beg them to make my start date Jan 1st instead of Feb 1st (they made an exception because I'm pregnant- first perk), call back the doctor, make an appointment for this Friday, then this Friday my new primary care physician will then give me a referral to Dr. Dwight which once I receive, I will then promptly make an appointment with.

They certainly don't make it easy.  But it will be worth it, I know.

My belly is getting bigger.  I broke down last week and Tim and I had a day at the Glendale Galleria.  One of the largest shopping malls in the country, I think.  It's crazy there and scares me a little.  I'm not a mall girl.  Too many options. I get easily overwhelmed.  I much prefer small boutiques with limited choices.  But I needed pants that fit my belly and my ass and new make up and t-shirts and I don't know of a boutique that sells all three.  So off we went.  Your Dad is such a trooper.  He hung in there while I had my make-up done at Sephora and not only that but helped me pick out a couple of pairs of maternity pants.  They are these weird pants with wide bands of stretchy material at the top.  Totally unattractive but so comfortable I seriously don't give a fuck.  I'll wear anything as long as it doesn't strangle you at my belly.

And last but not least your Aunt Trina, who just had a darling baby named Henry, whom I hope you will become best buddies with, because his mom and dad are awesome, gave me two huge boxes of super rad maternity clothes on Sunday when we went out to Malibu to visit them and hear all about their birth experience.  Henry is only 8 weeks old and he's already quite the charmer.  When I got home I started crying cataloguing and putting away all the clothes she gave me because I am overwhelmed with the incredible generosity of my friends. It's an amazing experience for someone like me, someone who has a hard time asking for and accepting help or even compliments, to be showered so much love and support. I knew my friends were amazing. I just didn't know to what an unbelievable extent.  Squirt, I can't wait for you to meet Trina.  She is one of the most beautiful, intelligent, and downright hilarious people I have ever met.  We used to joke that between the two of us a quart of Jack Daniels didn't stand a fighting chance.  And it didn't, back in the day. But today is a different day and watching my dear friend that I've known for almost a decade feed and burp her baby boy with her charming and loving husband tending the fire nearby, glowing with pride and motherhood, I was filled with so much love and admiration for her and so grateful that even though we won't ever be able to recreate the Jack Daniels days, we have so many more memories to create with our children and families that we are creating at the same time.  It's super rad and makes me wonder at the timing of the Universe.  We couldn't of planned it better.

Okay- I've babbled enough.  In a few minutes Papa is gonna pick me up to go get some Pho down the street and then we're gonna hit the grocery store and come home to both do some work till we sleep.  I am teaching a creative writing class tomorrow to a bunch of 6th graders on Egypt- of which I know very little about.  So I have some studying to do, it seems.

And lastly, it looks like we have a first place name for you right now, here it is, are you ready?

Etty Patricia Husom

big heart.

mom