6 Things You Should Never Say to a Pregnant Woman

During the past 31 weeks, I’ve gained a new perspective on pregnancy, society’s expectations and treatment of expectant mothers, and so much more. I never anticipated the things I would learn about my own body and what I’m capable of, or the simple things I used to take for granted or ignore. Now, when I go places, things like proximity to a restroom and comfortable seating have to be taken into account. Simple gestures like opening a door for me or offering a chair are doubly appreciated. Many people, even strangers, are quick to offer help or a quick congratulations. Some are less sensitive. Hence, the following list I’ve compiled of statements people have actually said to me. Yes, to my face.

The Top 6 Things You Shouldn’t Say to Pregnant People:

6. “Wow! You’re huge!” To which I will respond in kind with an enthusiastic and cheerful, “Thanks! You too!” After all, it would be rude not to reciprocate.

5. “You should probably lay off the beer.” The first time I heard this joke was from a random hot dog vendor at a hockey game. And yes, I’ve heard it multiple times.

4. “We should have cast you as Santa!” This festive little gem also came from a complete stranger. Hilarious.

3. “How is she today?” Usually said as an aside to someone else in the room while I am pretty sure I’m in an obvious conscious state with the ability to hear and see the environment around me, this reference to hormonal moodiness only makes me feel like I’m some sort of dementia patient.

2. “You’ll never sleep again.” Perhaps the most common and discouraging feedback I receive. Believe it or not, our decision to have a child was very premeditated. I’m familiar with the habits of babies. Besides, isn’t not sleeping how we got into this situation? I’m confident the joys of parenthood will outweigh the dark circles under my eyes.

1. “Sorry, we’re all out.” Let’s face it, these are words no one ever wants to hear. Whether it’s your favorite latte flavor, movie tickets, or tables at a restaurant. For some reason I think when you’re pregnant they come with an extra-heavy dose of disappointment. If you refrain from using any of the above phrases, make it this one.

Over the past couple of months I’ve also acquired a few new nicknames. Some of the highlights include Prego, Preggo-Eggo, Tons-of-Fun, Mama, and my personal favorite, “Lil’ Mama,” because it makes me feel like this girl:

http://youtube.googleapis.com/v/S5ck6TJQ5Ow&source=uds

Though some of these comments and nicknames may sound offensive or hurtful, don’t start wasting any sympathy on me. Five years in broadcast journalism gave me a very thick skin. I’ve been called much worse, and I am positive that all of the above were said out of love and support for someone they know is snarky enough to laugh it off and post it on a blog afterwards. Tons-of-Fun? It made me laugh the hardest. 🙂

Guilt-free Thanksgiving

It’s always been one of my favorite holidays, but this year I had the rare opportunity to enjoy Thanksgiving in a way I never had before– wearing maternity pants.

In what has become perhaps the most well-timed pregnancy in history, this year’s holiday season coincides with my third trimester. Bring on the turkey, the stuffing, the Christmas cookies, and the cocoa. I’m actually supposed to be gaining a pound a week. Don’t worry, I’ll throw some veggies into the mix, but can I really be blamed if our little boy ends up with one big sweet tooth?

Another benefit of being pregnant during the holidays- I get to make the “I think I ate too much” joke at least once every family gathering. Overall, it’s a great time of year to be “eating for two.” I’m not sure if I’ll ever get to experience it like this again. I’m certainly going to enjoy it while I can.

And, I might have to make a tradition out of the maternity pants.

Photo Shoot

Engagements and weddings are the kinds of moments you want to capture and hold on to forever, but more recently, the adventure of pregnancy has become a popular moment on that list as well, with countless couples opting for professional photo shoots to immortalize their baby while it’s still easy to get it to pose for a camera.

I’m not going to lie, I think most maternity photos are weird. When I think about them, images like this one come to mind:

No offense to this lovely couple or to anyone who chooses to do them, I’m sure you all look fabulous, but there’s something about taking photos with my husband as we stare wistfully at my stomach that just seems a bit forced. Maybe it’s because I’m used to a person’s face being the focal point of photos. Maybe it’s because it’s just not completely our style. Maybe it’s because on my wedding day I felt so beautiful I wanted visual proof of it for the future, and right now not so much.

Well, we did it anyway.

After looking at photo shoots on facebook and Pinterest (the most lethal of creative inspiration) Drew and I decided we should give it a try. How often do you get the opportunity? I did insist that we spend no money or extra effort, in the event that they turned out to be worthy of Awkwardfamilyphotos.com. Here’s a sample of the final product, shot by Drew’s tripod at a park down the street:

The Third Trimester Begins

Yesterday, Drew, the baby and I had our 28 week appointment. This marks a pretty big milestone in pregnancy because it’s the start of the third and final trimester- the home-stretch. In about three more months we will be holding our first child!

But before that happens, medical professionals like to test new parents-to-be by having them go through a series of challenges. The first 28-week challenge was one I’d heard about from formerly-pregnant friends and relatives, who must have satisfied the medical professionals’ standards because they are all now parents. It’s called the gestational diabetes screening. For some women, hormones in pregnancy cause insulin resistance, which makes it harder to process sugar. The test requires drinking an extremely sweet, tang-like drink, waiting an hour, and then giving away some of your blood so they can send it to a lab. (one of my very least favorite things)

From all of the accounts I’d heard, I was expecting to have to chug some sort of disgusting concoction that would be hard to keep down. Maybe it’s because I was an avid kool-aide drinker as a child, or because when given the choice my regular diet would consist of 90 percent sugar, but I found the drink absolutely delicious! It was no problem to defeat challenge #1: disgusting drink, and move on to the second challenge which I believe was specifically designed for people who defeated the first with too much ease, and have a paralyzing fear of needles.

My blood type is A negative. That means it doesn’t have something called an RH factor, which I would try to explain more specifically if the last biology class I’d taken was more recent than 10 years ago. Basically, if my blood mixes with my baby’s blood (like during labor) my body would see it as a foreign body and attack it. Usually this doesn’t pose a problem with a first child, but could impact all subsequent pregnancies. How do the medical professionals fix it? By sticking a big needle in my right hip. While Drew’s hand may be a little worse for the wear from my grip during the RhoGAM shot, I defeated the second task.

The great thing about this challenge-laden appointment is the ultrasound. I’m still amazed at what technology allows us to see and hear in there. This week, our baby boy is measuring about a week ahead of schedule at 3lbs 2oz. After 14 weeks, all babies grow at their own pace so this doesn’t mean he will come out a week early, although I wouldn’t protest.

Drew and I got to see his brain, his spine, the bones in his legs, and other indicators of his growth that all show he’s a healthy baby. He’s in the correct position for labor, so we hope he stays that way for the next three months.

While we were looking around in there, our baby boy showed a little of his personality, knocking right back at the ultrasound tech with his tiny balled up fists, and even smiling a little, which we tried to catch in this 3-d image. Seeing his face for the first time only makes me want to meet him sooner, but we’ll let him cook a little while longer.

The Vanishing Lap

I feel I have finally come to terms with my changing body shape and am learning to take all that comes with it in stride… even the increasing difficulty of simple tasks like putting on socks and shoes, which now requires some sort of stabilization crutch like a nearby dresser, chair, or husband.

Our dog Max, however, is still adjusting. His favorite resting place is slowly shrinking.

He’s learned that he can no longer bound across the room and onto my lap or jump up and push me with his paws as soon as I walk in the door, which were probably good habits to break anyway, but now as soon as the poor guy finds a comfortable position to nap that also accommodates baby’s space, he has to reevaluate a week or so later as I continue growing. Or should I say, as the baby continues growing.

If Max does encroach a little too closely, baby responds with a swift kick. Not even out of the womb and he’s already defending his space. Of course, this battle for my lap has resulted in a few new napping positions you see below:

And, my personal favorite, the “Forget it, I’ll sit with dad.”

Happy Halloween!

In the adult world, Halloween has become a holiday of revealing costumes and crazy parties, where women usually go as the “sexy version” of an otherwise scary creature, cute animal or occupation. Sexy nurses, cats, witches, even zombies roam the night, and while in previous years I’ve never really fully embraced the “sexy version” culture, you’d be hard-pressed to find any costume in a store that doesn’t. One walk through Party City and I realized this year would be a great one to go home-made, and even embrace the complete opposite. So I transformed into the least sexy and “the most harmless thing. Something that could never ever possibly destroy us.” Mr. Stay Puft.

Drew went along as a Ghostbuster and the costumes went over very well! We even carved the Ghostbusters logo into our pumpkin. I had looked through a few maternity-inspired costumes online (bun in the oven, zombie babies, skeleton t-shirts complete with a skeleton of the fetus.) I wanted something that showcased the baby bump without creeping me out, so when Drew suggested a Ghostbuster and the marshmallow man as a joke, it quickly became a reality! We got a lot of compliments at his co-worker’s party from the sexy witches.

http://youtube.googleapis.com/v/d-sALU_hveA&source=uds

Nesting

He knew this day would come. The day I opened the door to his “man-cave,” shook my head and said, “This has to go.”

Since the gender reveal Drew and I have been hard at work dismantling the sports memorabilia, film equipment and boxes upon boxes of wires that every tech guy seems to acquire, and slowly transforming our spare room into a more welcoming space for a baby, with fewer choking hazards.

Thanks to family and friends, we already have a lot of the essential equipment: a crib, changing table, swings, etc. We’re finding that babies are a lot like Apple products. They’re pretty cool on their own, but they come with a lot of additional accessories. Unlike Apple products, some take a lot of work to assemble.

With the main furniture in place, our little nest looks impressive and almost complete in photos, provided I take said photo while balancing on top of a pile of junk in the opposite corner of the room. It’s a work in progress.

*A quick product endorsement* The wall decal is from http://www.popdecors.com. You can order custom colors, they’re easy to apply, removable, and ship very quickly!

The Athlete

Maybe it’s too early to start bragging about our baby who hasn’t arrived yet, but in his 24th week of gestation I’m already convinced that he will be a fantastic athlete. Why? Because the little guy has the energy level of a marathon runner, and it seems he’s already training around the clock.

It all started while I was watching an episode of Glee, (don’t judge) and I felt powerful kicks every time the characters sang their own rendition of a Beatles song. I couldn’t tell if the kicks were in protest to the diminishment of music legends, or dance moves to a catchy beat. I tested the next morning with a real Beatles song and got the same response! Unfortunately, to mine and my husband’s disappointment, he did not react the same way to Michael Jackson. We’re still running periodic tests.

Ever since then, the activity level has sky-rocketed. Often times I wake up at 4a.m. to realize my belly is dancing, and not in the veil and jingly scarf sort of way. I have found a few things that seem to be triggers. So far, they are: going to sleep, waking up, eating, drinking, music, laughing, Max laying on my lap, attending important meetings, watching zombie movies, and prenatal appointments.

Drew and I had our second parenting class this week, which also includes checking our own vitals. We took my blood pressure, weight, and Drew gets to check the baby’s heartbeat with a Doppler (my favorite part!) As soon as he found the familiar “womwomwom” of the heartbeat, it was interrupted by a loud “WOMP!” and the biggest kick I think I’ve ever felt. The machine hadn’t had time to register the heart rate, so he tried again. “womwomwomWOMP!” And again.

Three big kick later, we finally registered a heart rate of 150bpm, and a baby with impressive aim!

A runner, a dancer, a soccer player? I guess we’ll have to wait a little while longer to find out.

Just Keep Swimming

Shortly after we found out we were expecting, Drew and I joined a gym. I have no idea why the timing worked out that way and I’m pretty sure I’m the only person so confused as to spend money on a membership to a gym while embarking on my first pregnancy, but the food in the cafe was good and the machines were so new and shiny and there was a water slide.

Unfortunately water slides are discouraged during pregnancy… but swimming is highly encouraged! That became my exercise of choice. Maybe it’s the low-impact, or the cool temperature, or the fact that gravity isn’t pushing a growing baby into the rest of my organs, but being in the pool feels great. As an added bonus, the bigger I get the more buoyant I become, so my swimming is actually easier and faster than it was in the beginning. I swim for about 30 minutes two or three times a week. I admit, I was feeling pretty proud of myself for just having the energy to get out of bed in the morning. Then, I met a woman swimming in the lane next to me who noticed I was pregnant.

“How far along? I’m three weeks from my due date!” she said.

I looked down and realized she was probably one good butterfly stroke away from going into labor in the pool, and as she told me about swimming an hour a day, my pride faded.

Then, she told me this was her seventh. Pride restored! She’s obviously a professional by now, on the same level as the women who compete in the Pregnant Olympics, and for all I know she could’ve been on performance-enhancing drugs. Those prenatal vitamins consist of a cocktail of substances with all sorts of interesting side-effects. I could develop fins and gills in the next few months too.

Either way, I’m proud to say our gym membership is not going to waste. And they have childcare, so eventually I’ll be able to take advantage of that water slide.

Pregnancy Brain

Though research has produced mixed results, I’m going to come right out on the side of those who support the theory that “pregnancy brain” is a legitimate scientific phenomenon, not only because its existence makes me feel better about my absent-mindedness, but also because it just took about 5 attempts for me to spell the word “phenomenon.”

In recent weeks, the ups and downs of emotional instability seemed to have leveled out, but they’ve been replaced with bouts of temporary amnesia and flat out IQ loss. I wake up in the morning and open the refrigerator to look for a box of cereal. On a good day I eat that cereal with milk rather than soaked in orange juice. A couple of weeks ago I tried playing it safe with some oatmeal, but the bowl didn’t make it out of the microwave before I forgot about it and drove to work.

I’m afraid in some cases, my work is suffering as well. I’ve forgotten assignments or finished them twice before realizing they were already done. I tried posting content to a website by typing it into the Google search bar, and went so far as to call a co-worker for assistance before realizing why that approach wouldn’t work. I spent 20 minutes designing an animated graphic that I promptly deleted without saving or exporting. At that point, I wasn’t even surprised or upset. It was almost time to go home, so I cut my losses and hoped that the part of my brain that knew how to operate a car would still be intact for at least the next 15 minutes.

I’m not sure how long this “pregnancy brain” is supposed to last, or how long I’ll be able to use it as an excuse for my recent hopeless inattention to detail. Earlier on in my pregnancy I tried to get into my gym using my Starbucks Gold Member card. Just the other day a restaurant server chased me down in the parking lot because I’d forgotten to sign my bill. I’m going to assume that this condition typically lasts the entire duration of pregnancy and perhaps a few months after the baby is born, at which point “pregnancy brain” will be re-termed “sleep deprivation.”

I started to consider hiring some sort of personal assistant to help me out. Someone to follow me around turning off ovens, locking doors and picking up my purse from the back of restaurant chairs, (or the counter of the hair salon where I almost left it yesterday.) Then, I realized this person already exists. His name is Drew.