Around the time this photo was taken, William and I were at Izzy's, an ice-cream cafe here in St. Paul where they have the most extraordinary flavors. I was standing behind a grandparent-age couple, and they struck up conversation with us. They were out-of-towners, so they were looking for flavor advice. I gave them mine—midnight snack!—and we joked around a bit. Then the woman said to me: "When I was pregnant, I lived across the street from an ice-cream shop in St. Louis. I gained 70 pounds!" It was a moment for me: Someone dared to assume I was pregnant and comment on it, without commenting on it. I told her I'd be careful on the ice cream.
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Last weekend, I was at the doughnut shop a few blocks from where I live. It was one of the first truly chilly mornings of the fall, and I was dressed in a swing-style sweater coat and leggings. When I got up to the counter to pay, the owner of the bakery dropped an extra doughnut into the bag. "For the baby," he grinned and said.
I was surprised he noticed. I guess I still think I'm in the stage where it's a could-be-or-couldn't-be, and I thought the coat just looked like a swing coat. I expressed my gratitude—and surprise. He's an adorable Vietnamese-American man and he said with all the charm in the world: "Oh, you showing up now. This your first?" I told him yes. "Oh, you will have more," he predicted. "I have four. All verrrrry different."
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I got a haircut a couple of weeks ago. When the stylist, who I adore, pulled back my hair and put the black cape on, I said "Whoa, my face...it's getting fat!"
"Mmmm, I'd say it's just losing...dimension," he hedged.
"No, it's OK. It's getting fuller for sure."
"I'll cut layers to help with that," he reassured.
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I'm on to full-on ravenous mode. A far piece better than the sicks early on, although no less urgent in its nature.
Things I have craved:
Pickles (I am a giant cliché)
Salami/pastrami with cream cheese on everything bagels (and pickles)
Mini rye bread loaves with cream cheese and salted cucumbers (hmmm, sensing a pattern here?)
Ikea Swedish meatballs with mashed potatoes and lingonberries
Spaghetti and meatballs (with LOTS of garlic)
For the love of God, I have eaten AT LEAST a full peck of Honeycrisp apples since apple season has started here in Minnesota. I want to cry because so many of our farmers lost significant portions of their crop, so we'll have a short season (my favorite orchard told me they lost 70 PERCENT due to a spring frost and early cold fall here).
Chili
Early on: Laffy Taffy, cherry Icees, Granny Smith apples, dried-fruit-rollups
Cereal (specifically honey-nut Cheerios)...I never eat cereal, really.
Chewy Sprees (I do like these normally, but not the way I like them now.)
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The baby is now kicking hard enough that she can make my belly jump when she wants to. I can rely on her to move when I switch positions in bed in the morning, after I eat, and when I lie on my back to read at night before I go to sleep. Some days she moves more than others. and it kind of freaks me out when she moves less, but my doc says it won't be until late 20-some weeks where I might feel her move reliably all day long. She seems to respond to Wm's voice when he talks to my belly. I was working late one night, lying in bed, and listening to an REM concert on YouTube while I typed. She kicked through the whole thing, and she also kicked a ton at the Louis CK show we saw this weekend.
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I can't stay awake. If I'm on the couch, watching TV, and the right temperature, I'm out. I managed to stay awake for Louis CK this weekend which STARTED at 10:30, but I had to close my eyes in the car on the way home, and I was totally wrecked yesterday afternoon. I slept for a good few hours on the couch in the afternoon, fell asleep watching TV at night, slept all night.
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Nesting is kicking in. Last weekend we made a giant list of things we'd like to see done before the baby comes, among the engagements we know we have already this fall, holidays and birthdays, and the like. Oy. It's a lot. But I feel motivated to tackle a bunch of things so that it's not happening when the baby goes to college. I know the BABY won't know the difference, but we have been living in this house a year and still haven't painted.
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We hired a doula! More specifically, a doula team. I already feel more empowered. More to come on this.
OK, hopefully I'm back on the blogger wagon with this post. Life has just been so hectic and when I fall asleep so early at night it makes it hard to get a post up. Now I'm off to read a chapter in Birthing From Within. (Just finished Ina May's Guide to Childbirth, for those keeping track, and for my own records.)
