Birthdays: A Whole New Perspective When Pregnant

Today is my birthday. I'm now 34 years old, which is strange because I don't feel a day over 33.

Seriously though, everyone keeps asking me what I'm going to do on my special day, and to tell you the truth, I really haven't thought about it much. I guess that's what happens as you get older, you start thinking more of other people and less of yourself. In fact, I've already accomplished the most important task on my plate today, which is calling my mother.

For as long as I can remember, I would call my mother at my exact birth time, 11:02am. Even at an early age, I thought it was more important to focus on the woman who gave birth to me. After all, she did all the work, right? My mom was in labor for four hours with me, without any medication. Today she reminded me of how (to this day) it is still considered the most painful experience of her life. She's then quick to assure me it was all worth it and how appreciative both my parents are of the woman I have become. It's actually very sweet and usually results in a few tears. It's a great way to start your birthday. And it really is the beginning of the day, considering I was born on east coast time, but live on the west coast. So, I'm actually calling my mother at 8:02am.

Yes, we are THAT hard core. I call my mother every year, and that will never change. Yet, today feels different.

When I was pregnant with my first son, Sayer, I was only three months pregnant on my birthday. My husband and I were super excited about the pregnancy, but to tell you the truth, I really didn't feel a close bond with my son yet. After all, I had seen the ultrasound pics and heard the heartbeat, but I had yet to feel him kick, hiccup or do the million other things a growing baby does inside his mother's belly. Fast forward two years and it's an entirely different story. Sayer is now 18 months old and I'm seven months pregnant with my second son, Urban. Suddenly, birthdays take on a whole new meaning.

While I still reflect on the sacrifice my mother made 34 years ago, my mind tends to focus on my boys. For Sayer, I remember the moment I first knew I was experiencing early labor. I remember feeling so relieved after the anesthesiologist gave me my epidural (I later referred to him as "my best friend"). And most importantly, I remember watching in the mirror as this little miracle emerged from my body and was brought to my chest. And while Urban's birth has yet to unfold, I'm sitting here just imagining what it will be like. We're having him via c-section, so his story will definitely be different, but just as special. With every little move he makes, I find myself wondering what type of man he will become. And it all starts with having a birthday.

While the details of this special day are still unknown, I actually know the date. Today at my OB/GYN appointment, we scheduled my c-section for Monday, April 23rd. So that's the day I'll officially meet my new little man (barring any type of complication, of course). I learned my son's birthday on my own birthday, isn't that something?

Again, an entirely new perspective.

Here Comes Sayer Claus...

"You're delivering presents to how many kids tonight?"

The Gender Dilemma

When you become pregnant, you learn about several unwritten rules you're not privy to when childless. Apparently, these rules are supposed to be as innate as your "motherly instinct", which ironically I have yet to discover. 

And so today, I'm spilling the beans. Consider this your spoiler alert, if you've never been pregnant.

Rule #1 Don't tell anyone you're pregnant until you're in the "safe zone". 
REASON: Fear of miscarriage or other complications

Rule #2 Don't tell anyone your baby names
REASON: People are rude and they will steal them

Rule #3 Don't tell anyone if you prefer a specific gender
REASON: As Mick Jagger once said, "You can't always get what you want". 

I've literally broken every single one of these rules. Go figure. I've never been one to blend in with the crowd. But lately, my individuality has put me in an awkward situation. And it's all because of Rule #3.

Let me explain....

As little girls, we plan the lives we want to have. We talk about our future husbands and the number of babies we want to have. We even try to foreshadow the gender of those babies and perhaps their names. But, as I'm learning, it doesn't always work out as planned.

When we got pregnant with our first child, my husband and I both said we didn't care about the gender. We just wanted a healthy baby. We lied. The last part is true... but we really did care about the gender. My husband wanted a boy and I wanted a girl. He won that round... and I gladly gave birth to a beautiful baby boy. After all, there was always "next time".

Round two is a little different. People naturally assume you want the opposite gender with your second child. And there's a lot of hype about it. Especially if you're like me and your family is lop-sided with one gender. It's been a long time since anyone has bought any pink dresses on either side of the family. In fact, I was the last girl born into the family. No pressure.

Despite our desires to have a little girl, I really tried to remain level-headed throughout the first half of my pregnancy. I didn't want to get my hopes up, and to be honest, I didn't want the added pressure of disappointment from our family. Because, let's get real, it's simple human nature to feel disappointment when a situation doesn't turn out as planned. After all, the law of probabilty was on our side.

At 20 weeks, we had our "BIG ultrasound" and I was unbelievably nervous. It's that kind of nervous you feel when you don't even really know what you're saying or what other people around you are saying. Everything is one big blur. I honestly don't remember much from the ultrasound... except the part when the technician started typing "boy" on the screen. What? That must be a mistake. When she typed the word "penis", I figured she knew what she was talking about.

 
I didn't even have a chance to think about what all this meant when I felt a tear sliding down my cheek. I was so mad at myself. How dare I be upset about this. We had conceived a perfectly healthy baby, and that's the most important thing. If that wasn't good enough, then I didn't deserve to have another baby. I had absolutely no right to be sad. But telling myself not be sad just made the tears come faster. I felt a squeeze on my leg. It was husband reassuring me everything would be ok. 

I'm telling you this story because this exact situation is played out in many families, yet few people talk about it. Why? Because no parent wants their child to ever feel like they weren't wanted because it's simply not true. As women, we love our babies before we ever meet them- regardless of their gender. But, that doesn't mean the big reveal isn't a bit surprising. 

Having gone through this myself, I'm here to say it's ok to shed a few tears. After all, the additional hormones make us extremely emotional during this time anyway. For me, I just needed to take some time to digest everything. I took the rest of the day and reflected on what it meant to be the mother of two boys. By the next morning, I had thought of 100+ reasons why having boys was actually a blessing. I was confident, happy and ready to share the good news with family and friends. 

And just in case you're wondering, we are planning to have more children. Perhaps four total. And I'm expecting them all to be boys :) 

Holiday Photos 2011

The holidays are supposed to be a happy time, right? Then, I highly suggested not trying to take photos with your 16 month child. Yes, he's adorable. But, trying to get everyone to look at the camera and smile... is as unlikely as spotting Santa Claus at a weight watchers meeting.

But, we gave it our best shot :) See more photos here. I also included our special version of "Jingle Bells". Hey, it beats reading a boring newsletter, right?

Christmas Cards
(sung to the tune of Jingle Bells)

Dashing through this year
It all went by so quick
It's time to spread some cheer
Like jolly ole' St. Nick

Our family's been busy
We're having so much fun
And if you haven't heard
We're increasing it by one

CHORUS
Oh, Christmas cards, Christmas cards
The year is almost through
Oh, what fun it is to share
Our lives in review

Christmas cards, Christmas cards
We're trying something new
Oh, what fun it is to write
This Christmas rhyme for you

Our son's a toddler now
Blue eyes with curly hair
He never wears his shoes
And there's Elmo everywhere

He has an agent too
His future's looking bright
You'll want his autograph
If only he could write

REPEAT CHORUS

Ryan's job is new
His transfer has been great
More time for family
And reducing the crime rate

Sunny still works from home
Where she creates her shows
But her belly's getting big 
She can barely see her toes

REPEAT CHORUS

We need a bigger house
We think we've found "the one"
It needs a little work
The adventure has begun!

With all these things and more
We're looking forward to
What really means the most
Is to share it all with you!

REPEAT CHORUS

Fat or Pregnant?

Well, the big day has finally arrived. No, it's not "D" Day... it's the first day of my second trimester. Which is simply amazing to me because it feels like just yesterday I was surprising my husband with a positive pregnancy test. It's crazy how time flies when you're already chasing after a little one.

In my opinion, there are pros and cons to the second trimester. Of course, the odds of miscarriage are now drastically reduced. Whew! This also typically begins the "honeymoon" phase of pregnancy. Your early pregnancy symptoms, like nausea, start to subside. Unfortunately, my body is a little tardy on this one. I still have to stuff my face every two hours to avoid seeing my lunch for a second time. Hubbys generally like this second phase of pregnancy as well. One word: Sex. Suddenly, pregnant women start to embrace their womanly figures and what better way to show it off then grabbing your partner for a little horizontal mambo? For me, pregnancy makes me horny in general. I could be five pounds heavier or fifty pounds heavier. My husband is a lucky guy.

Which leads me to the not-so-great moments of the second trimester. By now, my baby is the size of a lemon. And while it's cute to think about its tiny body growing inside me, the view from the outside is not that great. Let's face it, who wants to look like they just swallowed a lemon? I'm officially in that "fat or pregnant" stage. Pregnancy clothes look ridiculous on me, but the thought of squeezing into my pre-pregnancy clothes makes me even more nauseous. What's even worse? People who know I'm pregnant now think it's ok to pat the "barely there" belly bump, which is probably more belly fat than anything else. It's awkward to say the least. And it only gets worse the bigger your belly gets.

Several months ago, my girlfriends and I were discussing this very issue. This extreme invasion of privacy every woman faces at some point in her pregnancy. Perhaps we should all start going around touching stranger's bellies? It could become the new handshake. On the other hand, perhaps we should simply treat it like a rite of passage into motherhood and create funny youtube videos to deal with the inward pain... like my friends and I did.

Sadly, only one of us was actually pregnant while making this video. The rest of us stuffed our shirts with pillows and saran wrap. Ironically, I got pregnant a month later.

Karma.