26 weeks psych

The prenatal massage was, like most massages I've had, useless. I was on the table when it was all done, and my back still killed me with knots. The situation was the same before the pregnancy as it is now -- I can't find a massage therapist who will take me seriously when I say that the pain is intense. I must appear just another delicate female with a whining problem.

I'm tempted to be my stubborn self and just "deal" as I've done since quitting the chiropractor, but I'm only being lazy and hurting myself. So I made an appointment with a new chiropractor for Friday morning, a woman who specializes in pregnancy (among other things). Maybe it will be the same old problem and she won't understand me. Maybe my insurance will fail me. But I'll try.

It's the same reason I'll keep doing the Denise Austin pregnancy exercise DVD even though I want to slap her grinning, over-tanned face.

Because underneath the lazy facade, I'm not actually a quitter. I have my priorities pretty well in order.

I've been thinking a lot about mental health today, as well as nutrition and exercise. I filled out an online survey for the new chiropractor that covered all manner of health topics as part of this overall wellness plan (even though I'll only be taking advantage of the chiropractic side).

The results of my evaluation spoke very poorly for my nutrition (surprise, surprise), but well for my mental health. There were many questions about stress levels, dealing with problems, voicing my opinions, etc. I really wasn't worried about my mental health, communication skills, or coping methods, but it still felt good to pass the test, even if it was just a dumb online survey.

Now if only I could pass muster on the nutrition.

Andy said that we'll start eating better -- and eating at home -- before baby's arrival. We'll eat our fruits, veggies, and protein. We'll cut back on the grease. I'm all too aware that it's so much easier said than done.

We have to do it for baby! (Who, by the way, is very close to being named via compromise!) Bad nutrition or not, baby has been kick-kick-kicking.

I can't believe we're in the double-digits! Less than 100 days to go!

A favorite "mental health" song, "That I Would Be Good" by Alanis Morissette.

that I would be good even if I did nothing
that I would be good even if I got the thumbs down
that I would be good if I got and stayed sick
that I would be good even if I gained ten pounds

that I would be fine even if I went bankrupt
that I would be good if I lost my hair and my youth
that I would be great if I was no longer queen
that I would be grand if I was not all knowing

that I would be loved even when I numb myself
that I would be good even when I am overwhelmed
that I would be loved even when I was fuming
that I would be good even if I was clingy

that I would be good even if I lost sanity
that I would be good
whether with or without you

25w 2d tequila

This is the 85th post to this baby-laden blog and we’re getting oh so close to only 100 days in the countdown. Back at the beginning, I remember wondering what it would be like when we finally got to this point…

What will it be like when I’m big and round? Uncomfortable… bizarre… like I’ve had a large, half-inflated beach ball implanted under my stretched-out skin. And if I even think about slouching a fraction of an inch, my lungs ache.

What will kicks feel like? Like one of those strong heartbeats you get after running a mile, only lower down and amplified. The softer ones are like a padded nudge while the harder ones are like someone has hooked around and jabbed at your guts. It used to be localized, but now I’ll just as easily feel a kick to the nether regions followed immediately by a jab to the ribs.

Will I stop thinking about miscarriage? Not really. I still think about the first baby, who never had a chance. Sometimes I wish I knew if it had been a girl or boy, and sometimes I’m glad I don’t know, glad it ended quickly before it could’ve broken even more of my heart, if that’s possible. But I still wonder if something can go wrong with this pregnancy, or even a future pregnancy, and if I’m going to be put through that again.

I’m still surprised this is really happening. This afternoon I lifted my shirt for a moment and watched my child – my child – move and thump around in his/her cramped neighborhood (AKA my ribcage). We have a child. We made a person. And he/she is growing. Here is exhibit A to admit into evidence:


In case you heard the naming rumor, it’s true. This weekend, Andy did in fact say, “If we have a Mexican baby, can we name it Toquita Banana?”

Ahh, Baby Toquita, how we long to gaze upon your Hispanic face. At least we aren’t naming you Tequila.

In honor of Toquita Banana, here’s my favorite song by my favorite Mexican pop star (La Pared versión acústica, by Shakira).

Sabes que sin ti ya yo no soy
Sabes que a donde vayas voy, naturalmente
Después de ti la pared, no me faltes nunca
Debajo el asfalto y mas abajo estaría yo,
Sin ti

You know that without you I no longer am
You know wherever you go, I go, naturally
After you, the wall, don’t ever let me be without you
Beneath the asphalt and even deeper down, I’d be,
Without you.

24w 2d caution

Every day, sometimes multiple times, Andy tells me to drive carefully, be careful, take care of the little one, etc. In fact, moments after I wrote that sentence, he called to say hello, and when I mentioned that I'd stop by during his (dinner) lunch hour, he said, "Drive carefully."

It's endearing. And even when it may not be necessary for me to hear it, I'm only too eager to accept that safe is definitely better than sorry in any matter relating to the little one. In this case, his habit of repeating himself is a good thing.

It isn't surprising that the instinct to protect has already come out in both of us. It's why I've started counting kicks. It's why I went to the emergency room when I could've waited out my illness. It's why I wear my seatbelt the proper way now. It's why I only have eight ounces or so of caffeinated beverages in a week, even though Diet Pepsi is, to me, the nectar of the gods. It's why I'm relieved that we've made it past the 24th week and are officially in that period where it's possible to save the baby should something happen prematurely.

It's why I love that my husband can, on occasion, be insanely cautious.

As far as the mentioned illness, I'm still feeling funky, but mostly because eating doesn't really agree with me -- and I'm weak and nauseated from not eating. It must be a special nausea, because the Zofran doesn't seem to touch it. However, I predict I'll be at 100 percent soon.

It's strange, but I think the past few days were ones of rapid growth for the baby. My midsection actually looks different, with hollows on the sides of the bulging belly, and more of a bulge up high by the ribs. I'm feeling it differently now too, more aware of the various stretches and pushes and kicks, which are becoming more and more uncomfortable with each one. How quickly baby grows -- a sign of things to come once baby is born too, I'm sure you parents will agree.

A song for my hubby and his mommy -- "Don't Let The Sun (Your Son) Catch You Crying" by Gerry & The Pacemakers, which was their dance at our wedding. Thanks again to Uncle Steve and the wedding band.

The nighttime shadows disappear
And with them go all your tears
For the morning will bring joy
For every girl and boy
So don't let (your son) catch you crying.

21w 5d sharing

Lots of little movements are making life that much sweeter. Last night, during Conan's final Tonight Show, I placed Andy's hand on my belly and a minute or two later he felt a really good one-two punch; it's the first that Andy has shared. It was during Neil Young's "Long May You Run" performance.

The tiny one is tap dancing right now. I think it was napping until Andy finally got out of bed and decided to place his headphones on my abdomen and blast The Beatles. If our baby is anything like Andy, it may not have appreciated the wake up call. But it's play time now, and I can only be grateful.

We've been through some things together
With trunks of memories still to come
We found things to do in stormy weather
Long may you run.

21 weeks names

I felt something this morning on the way to work (always in the car, it seems...) that puts what I've been calling "kicks" to shame. Seriously, I swerved while driving. I don't know what this baby was doing, but it hurt! I imagined it was turning itself around the hard way.

I had an idea for the nursery -- hanging a baby picture of myself and one of Andy, and then putting one of Baby Schultz in the middle when we get to that point. Here are ours:

Lindsay Dawn, 5 weeks "surprise face"

Andrew Gerald, 5 months "happy baby"

The last week, we've slowly been arguing talking over names. I thought it would be a little more fun than this. Of course, we're just starting out, so maybe it will get better.

In typical fashion, I had my long, carefully chosen list of names all set to go, but none of them won. Andy has had his mind set on one name in particular, which I don't dislike, but I feel lukewarm toward it. We'll just have to keep searching for the perfect one, I guess.

Anyone have any favorites/suggestions? I can say with some certainty that we won't be choosing a name that's in the current top 100 (or maybe even top 1,000) names.

I ♥ stick people. (Thanks, Alyssa)

18w 1d movement

Deep within
I'm shaken by the violence
Of existing for only you

This is from "Do What You Have To Do" by Sarah McLachlan, the song I was singing along with in the car when Baby Schultz decided it was about time s/he jabbed me with a Karate-Kid-style kick.

Yeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!

Feeling fetal movement has been a sort of gradual series of events. A few days ago I was so cold I was shivering, and I had this weird delayed feeling down in that region, as if Baby was shivering (independently) too. Could that have been flutters?

Then today I really noticed something different. You know how your heartbeat feels in your chest when it's really pounding? What I have been noticing little by little is like a single one of those heartbeats, down near my belly button, periodically. It's also a little bit like the bass from a subwoofer.

What I felt in the car ride was just like the single heartbeat, only strong enough that it made me pause and wonder, "What was that?" And then the lightbulb came on, and my eyes watered. Happy tears.

So many happy tears in this process.

*Sigh* And to think that the baby has such good taste that it waited for the iPod to shuffle to one of the best Sarah McLachlan songs before dancing for mommy.

11 weeks pinch

How does early fetal movement feel?

I'll be honest -- I've been hoping I'm one of those rare women who can feel movement as early as 11 weeks. It's a possibility given my body shape, and I've been concentrating closely. What I keep reading is that you have a better chance of noticing the feeling if it isn't your first pregnancy, because you know what to look for.

What I periodically notice (in addition to gas bubbles, which I'm pretty good at recognizing) is a kind of pinching feeling, almost like a weak/dull shock. It could very well be my uterus continuing to change. I'm sure I'll have to wait a few more weeks before anything gets strong enough to be able to say, "Yes, that was the baby," but I can't help obsessively wondering about it.

I woke up alone today (Andy was on a trip to Florida). Although it was very sad being in such an empty house, there was a kind of instant happiness, a feeling I revel in periodically throughout every day. I lay my hand below my bellybutton and think, My baby is here. Impatience impossibly continues to grow, but nothing can dampen this happiness.

From "Wunderkind" by Alanis Morissette.

Most visibly brave, no apprehended gloom
First to take this foot to virgin snow
I am a magnet for all kinds of deeper wonderment
I am a wunderkind
And I lift the envelope pushed far enough to believe this
I am a princess on the way to my throne