I can do this

Stuart, the baby, and I completed a 5K race yesterday in Portland, the Earth Day Run. For those who don't know, a 5K is about 3.1 miles, and I'm proud to say that we actually ran for about 2.5 miles of that (and walked the rest). I think this is pretty good for being six months pregnant. :-)

What was interesting to me was several people's reactions when I told them I was doing the race. Several people assumed I was walking the whole thing, and one asked me if I was able to run while pregnant. Admittedly, it's harder to run at this point. I'm not breaking any speed records, that's for sure. But I'd been running prior to pregnancy, and as long as I listen to my body and don't push it when I feel bad, it's fine to keep running now.

I really appreciate that people around me are concerned about how my pregnancy is going and want to make sure they don't push me into doing things I might not be able to do. My body isn't the same as it used to be, and they understand that. So I don't feel any ill will when I get these type of reactions.

On a sociological level, I just find it fascinating to observe the differences in the way people treat me, based on assumptions that I'm compromised by my "condition." Instead of asking, "How's it going?" when I see them, they now ask, "How are you feeling?" They give me a wider berth when they're sick because they don't want to get me sick as well (this I do appreciate!). They're surprised that I'm still riding my bike to work. Strangers seem to act nicer toward me.

Again, I'm not irritated by these questions. It's just interesting to note them and the way they reflect larger societal beliefs about what pregnant women can or can't do.

I've tried to follow my personal belief that even though I am feeling certain negative effects (back pain, difficulty sleeping), I don't need to let this pregnancy prevent me from doing things I want to do. I don't have to act like I'm suddenly fragile -- especially when I reach the point of labor. Childbirth is hard, but deep down I'm a tough woman, someone who can ultimately handle this.

That doesn't mean I won't want Stuart to pamper and comfort me in the last few months and throughout labor. :-) But it does mean I want to remember my inner strength, which will help me get through it all.

So many products, so much to learn

One of the weird baby products I discovered I might need: a nasal aspirator.

I had a fun, yet overwhelming experience last night: creating a baby gift registry. We'd already been getting questions from some people who want to get us gifts, so we decided to set up our first registry at Target. We'll likely also register somewhere else as well, probably online, but this was a good start (FYI, it's not complete -- there will be more to come).

Since I know next to nothing about what most of this baby stuff is, and even less about what I might actually need, I recruited two of my mom friends to come along and help me sort if all out. Thanks to Beth and Kobbi, who both have two kids, I was able to go aisle by aisle and learn which items might be vital and which ones were complete junk.

As I said, it was really fun to look at all the products and start thinking more about what I might use with my baby. But at the same time, it was very overwhelming, because it sometimes felt like I might need everything, there were several important things I didn't even bother registering for yet because I need to do more research, and more to the point, I learned that I might need all these things I hadn't heard of or even imagined. Beth and Kobbi taught me about all kinds of new things, like the fact that I would probably need lanolin and gel pads to keep my breasts from getting sore after breastfeeding, that I should consider a portable crib for when we travel, and that babies basically want to puke and pee everywhere and buying covers for everything is wise so that I'm not constantly washing bedding, etc.

I kept thinking back to my original feelings about baby products (which I explored a bit in my last post): sometimes you can go a bit overboard with all this stuff. Is it all really necessary? No. But it sure is nice to know there are things out there that will make my life easier if I want them.

My parenting learning curve is still quite high, as I discovered again last night. But what was overwhelming was also comforting, because Beth and Kobbi also told me over and over that every baby and parent is different, and products that are vital to one kid can be useless to another. This is comforting because it reminded me that in the end I can just go with the flow, get to know my parenting style and my baby, and figure out what we need as we go along.

And there's nothing wrong with that.

Why can't there only be one?

23 weeks

The above picture is just to show how big I'm getting. I noticed tonight that my belly button is almost gone... How did that happen?

Anyway, the actual topic of this post is cloth diapers. Stuart and I are generally waste-conscious, so it should come as no surprise that we want to use cloth. The thought of all those disposables going into landfills pains me.

So that's it. We made the decision. Cloth diapers it is.

Turns out it's not that easy. As I'm discovering with just about every baby-related thing, there's never a simple choice or decision. There's not just one general type of cloth diaper -- there are several types of diaper systems that you must choose between before you can even decide which brand to buy. Pre-folds, all-in-one, all-in-two, pocket ... that's just a few. After reading multiple articles and watching several very helpful videos online (how did anyone figure this stuff out before the internet?) I've decided that each system seems to have a its own positives and negatives. Which doesn't bring me much closer to a decision.

We're all about ease of use. Especially Stuart, who seems to think that if he keeps saying that he's not going to change any diapers, then this will actually become the reality. Several of the systems look very appealing to me because they are easy. But then the question turns to which ones are actually effective when used on a wiggling newborn that will need to be changed 10 to 15 times per day (I read that online and still can't believe it's that frequent).

I'll definitely be turning to my mom friends for advice on this one. However, at the same time, I know every baby and every parent is different. A product that works perfect for one family may be completely wrong for another. But if any of you moms who use cloth are willing to let me come over sometime and at least see what type of system you use, I would appreciate it.

Overall, I feel like this baby product thing is more complicated than it should be. On the one hand, I'm really glad that innovative people in our society have come up with all these great ways to make child-rearing easier. I'm thankful for all these diaper options that make the process much easier than the square piece of cloth and diaper pins my mom used on me.

But at the same time, it can seem to get a bit out of control. Sometimes the options to protect baby from this or that other murderous thing just feel unnecessary. Babies survived for thousands of years without many of these products, so I shouldn't freak out if I don't have all these products for my own child.

So I'll just keep plodding along in my research, try to pick what looks good, and not be too concerned if I have to adjust my choices later. My baby won't be permanently harmed if I pick the wrong diaper. Once my baby is here, I'll learn a lot more about what's right for him, and I'm open to that. This is obviously the most level-headed way to approach these things.

Of course, all that level-headedness goes out the window when I think about strollers. But that's for another time.

Clothes make the woman

As I've gotten older, I've become somewhat of a clothes horse compared to my school years, packing my closet with my favorite styles from places like Anthropologie and Rusty Zipper (in addition to my always-growing collection of band t-shirts). But I never really considered myself super high maintenance about fashion. I've learned recently that I was wrong.

This realization came to me thanks to my growing belly requiring a transition into maternity clothes. As I researched maternity wear, I quickly discovered that super cute and flattering clothes are available, but for a price. I'm willing to spend more on an awesome shirt from Anthropologie that I will wear for several years. I'm not willing to spend a lot on a maternity shirt that will only be in my closet rotation for several months.

Several of my very kind friends loaned me some of their maternity clothing, and some of it actually fit (let's just say finding clothes that fit my short body, particularly my midget legs, is always a challenge). I also got some good tips from friends about places to buy relatively expensive maternity wear (Ross, thrift stores). I'm very thankful for all their help.

But as I started to wear these things, I immediately felt ... boring. Or even worse, I looked like a "mom."

I went back and analyzed my regular style and saw that it is very particular toward several things: bright colors, interesting and bold prints, and vintage style, particularly from the '70s. These are things I love, but they don't tend to be what the general populace typically wears. When you start shopping for maternity clothes, you find that they try to mimic styles that would be liked by most people, and they also reflect current trends, which makes complete sense. But unfortunately, this does not line up with the type of clothes I normally like to wear. The clothes that make me, me. Also, when I put on many of the shirts, I look like I'm suddenly an older Mom instead of the relatively young, hip me. Yes, I realize I'm going to be a mom. But I'm 31 years old. Becoming a mom doesn't mean I need to suddenly dress a decade older.

I was resigning myself to wearing these clothes because they fit, and they didn't look bad, exactly. In fact, they all look fine on me. Many of them just don't make me feel like myself. I didn't realize how much that was affecting me until one day when I finally donned a cute polka dot skirt and turquoise top that actually were closer to my normal style. I felt really cute that day. I felt great, actually. It made me realize how much my clothes were changing my mood.

So lately I've tried to restrict what I wear more to things that are closer to my normal style (when I can find them) rather than just wearing what fits. I know this will continue to be a struggle. I look forward to the warmer weather of late spring and summer so I can throw aside these bulky, boring long-sleeved shirts and put on some of the much cuter summer tops my friends have loaned to me.

P.S. - Unrelated, but I went for about a week with almost no sleep before finally getting a ridiculous-looking (and ridiculously named) Snoogle maternity body pillow. The last two nights with the pillow, I finally got good sleep. I'm hopeful...

Oh sleep, where art thou?

I want this!

I'm a bit grouchy as I write this, as I just had another night of non-sleep. For the past week or so, sleep has become an impossibility that used to seem so easy and now is a struggle. This is not because the baby is keeping me awake at night (I hear from my mama friends that I have that to look forward to soon), but it's because I'm so uncomfortable.

I'm normally a back sleeper, but I'm told that by this point in the pregnancy, I should no longer be sleeping on my back. I have yet to ask my midwife about why this is, although "What to Expect When You're Expecting" tells me it's because the weight of your pregnant uterus on your back, intestines and major blood vessels can cause problems.

Instead, I've had to resort to side sleeping. This was fine at first, but now it's the bane of my existence. I get tired of being on one side, and it makes my hip hurt, so I have to turn over to the other hip (which is not the easiest turn with my heavier pregnant belly). Then that hip starts to hurt, so I turn again. By the middle of the night, both hips hurt, and it spreads -- my entire leg starts to cramp, mainly in the upper leg, and eventually down to the calf. So I keep snuggling closer to Stuart, seeking the warmth of his legs on top of my cramping legs. At some point very early in the morning, I often can't sleep at all because of all the turning and cramping and soreness, and then my brain also wakes up, and then it's 4 a.m. and I'm ready to do anything for the privilege of sleeping on my back.

Any advice out there from other moms? Someone recently told me it helped her to place a big pillow behind her back while she slept, so she could lean back on it a bit and sort of half-sleep on her back. Multiple people have also suggested I look into a body pillow, so maybe I'll try that. Frankly, I'm willing to try anything at this point.

From "it" to "he"

Here's our son. Those things floating in front of his face are his hands.

On Monday we had our first (and hopefully only) ultrasound, where we learned we're having a boy! I still haven't gotten used to referring to the baby as "he" instead of "it." It's nice to know the gender and to mentally prepare for a boy, but it's still weird thinking of the thing inside my stomach as my son.

The experience of seeing the baby during the ultrasound was surreal. Like I imagined in my last post, this has made the baby even more real than before. We got to see his tiny nose and his mouth (which opened for a yawn). He hid his face for awhile with his hand, and he kicked his little legs while we watched. We counted his fingers and toes, watched his heart beat, saw his developing brain. Some of these are things we'll likely never see again. It's hard to believe that all of that is growing inside me.

Seeing all those details on the big TV screen made it hard to remember just how tiny the baby still is. His femurs -- the long upper leg bones -- are a mere 3.15 centimeters long. The circumference of his head is just 17.6 centimeters. And he only weighs 12 ounces -- the same as a can of soda.

After the ultrasound, the attendant revised our due date to July 30. We had been guessing Aug. 1, and the midwife had written down July 31. It was bizarre to me how much importance the ultrasound attendant placed on getting an exact due date. I know full well that the likelihood of the baby being born on that exact day is small (although there are exceptions, as our friend Melissa knows). I like to view the due date as more of an estimate, and when people ask about it, I say, "He'll be born around the beginning of August." I think this is part of my accepting and being fine with the idea that my baby will come when it's ready, whenever that may be. He will pick his time.

It's really in there

19 weeks

I finally felt the baby move this week. I was sitting at my desk at work Monday morning, and I felt a weird sensation in my lower abdomen. Didn't think anything of it at first, because I've been feeling all sorts of strange aches and gurgles and strains over the past few months. Eventually I noticed that the new feeling kept coming back, sort of like a tiny pressure inside my abdomen. It was so subtle that I wasn't sure if it was really the baby, but Stuart reminded me that the baby is still pretty small, so it may not be big enough for strong punches or kicks yet. I feel the minuscule movements right now as I'm typing this.

These milestones keep accumulating, things that remind me I'm actually pregnant, and there really is a tiny being growing inside me. For the first three months, I was doubtful. I didn't really experience morning sickness, only a slightly nauseated feeling for about a month along with new, weird aversions to certain smells and tastes. The changes were so subtle that I kept sprinkling my speech with "if" and "maybe" -- "If I'm actually pregnant..." "Maybe we're having a baby..." Deep inside I didn't want to admit that I was going to have a baby, because I didn't want to get too excited. It was still early in the pregnancy, when miscarriages are common. I didn't want to be too disappointed or depressed if that happened to me. Have I ever mentioned I'm a perpetual worrier?

Even after a pregnancy test confirmed it, I still don't think I truly believed I was pregnant until about three months in, when I met with a midwife at Bella Vie and she asked if I wanted to hear the baby's heartbeat. She pulled out a device called a doppler, held it against my abdomen, searched around a bit, and finally there it was: a quick tick-tick-tick-tick. The baby. It really existed. I almost cried. So did Stuart.

Now that I'm in the second trimester, things are getting more real. And more fun. About two weeks ago, my belly finally started to grow enough that I was sure I had a baby bump. (Before that, it was tough to tell if it was just my beer belly -- thanks to Deschutes and Rogue for that.) And now, feeling the baby moving around -- it's like a mega dose of reality. Now all I think about when I do anything is whether the baby feels it and what it thinks. If I sit in a way that constricts my stomach and the baby moves, I wonder if it's reacting to having less space. Tonight I ran 1 1/2 miles on the treadmill at the gym, and I wondered what the baby thought of all that jiggling. Was it irritated? Confused? Did it like it?

All these sudden changes, the baby making its presence known, make me finally start to see it as a person in there. It's no longer some abstract idea. Instead it's a little life that I feel infinitely closer to.

Monday is my first ultrasound. That will bring all these feelings to a whole other level. I can't wait!