Jessica Writes

I am at an editor’s conference in New Orleans, which is in my current state is sorta like being at the beach and not being able to swim. So, when we walked down Bourbon Street last night in search of dinner, I grudgingly tried my best to ignore all the happy revelers with their huge glasses of beer and brightly colored frozen drinks.

At dinner, I got a little wild — I had TWO bottles of near beer (non-alcoholic beer) and darn it, it was good. My husband will be proud to know I indulged in a near beer made by Guinness, called Kaliber. In fact, I may just drink near beer in the future over regular beer. It has the same taste and about half the calories. Now, if I could just find a place that would make me a frozen mango/strawberry margarita with no alcohol …

Oh iced mocha, you are a frosty delight
I want to consume you each day and each night.
My dreams are filled with your chocolate and coffee flavors
It is a taste that I long will savour.
Even though I get you caffeine free
You are still ever so tasty and fill me with glee.
But our love affair may soon fail
As the numbers increase on the dreaded scale.

I have been a little wobbly on my feet since becoming pregnant, and after falling down the shuttle steps at work last week, I decided my cute tall heels probably need to take an extended vacation for the most part. My feet have been swelling on days I wear my heels, too, so I went shopping for some cute substitutes that I hope will work for now.

Here are my first two new pairs, I still need a couple more:

These are some cute Calvin Klein patent leather peep toe wedges I got on sale at Macy’s. Very comfortable!

These are very similar to the chocolate brown Aerosoles wedges I got at TJMaxx for less than $30! What a bargain!

Here is another pic from Tuesday’s ultrasound, it’s not as sweet as the one I posted the other day. Everyone says it looks like an alien. I like to call this picture “Alien Baby-O-Doom.”

Oh my gosh. I have found a new religion and it is called the elastic waist jean. Oh how I love thee, elastic waistband. Holy cow, how can something be so comfortable? It really is a sin! Why aren’t ALL pants made this way?

I love to be fashionable, and I was also able to be economical on this critical purchase (much to the delight of my husband who thinks I have a serious shopping problem). I got my Juicy Couture designer maternity jeans at TJMaxx for $129 LESS than the retail price –whoo hoo! I think that is a major deal!

Look how freaking cute they are (and NO, NO, NO that is not my belly, its a model):

Seriously though, I will be rockin’ these bad boys all the time! If only I could wear jeans to work!

It looks like a real baby now! A pic from our ultrasound this morning. The tech said that I was measuring closer to 13 weeks!

I have been going to what I call my “second job” for the last month — I have been touring daycares. As a Vanderbilt employee, I took it for granted that when I had my baby, I would have one of the best daycares in the state at my disposal. Well, Vanderbilt employs thousands of people and its daycare is pretty much the top choice for everyone who have young children — which translates into a good 1 to 1 1/2 year wait for me. I am on the waiting list but have heard some people say they waited for 2 years to get on the list, so I figured I would get a few back-ups.

Little did I know that EVERY three-star (the highest rating for a child care center by the state) facility I would tour — and there have been a good six or seven at least with a couple more to go — would have a wait. And not only would they have a wait, they could not guarantee how long the wait would be and they each required (except for two) varying degrees of money to hold your place. Anywhere from $20 to $75 plus first week of care (around $200). All non-refundable. It’s enough to make you want to cry, well it makes me want to cry, but as my last post attests, even stubbing my toe makes me cry.

My friend Lisa and I have been touring these centers together since she is also pregnant. We’ve seen places I would compare to a Russian orphanage, old dilapidated places and wonderful places I wish I could enroll myself in. And then there’s what we saw today.

Lisa found the place we went to on the state site, which rates all the daycares and shows their location. This place was ideal as far as location: 2 minutes for her, 6 minutes for me — and it was three star, the best. Well, I was surprised when we were driving in a residential area as all the other daycares we visited were commercial buildings, but we found the place and it was indeed a house.

It took us both by surprise, but we went to the side entry and let ourselves in the gate. We were greeted by a very cheerful Glenda-the-Good-Witch lookalike with very, very, very artificially dyed orange wavy, wild hair. She led us in to what looked like a converted sun room and we saw a bunch of very cute children of various ages all piled around each other, with two babies in a baby pin filled with all sorts of random toys and books. I figured this was just the area the kids congregated in before they went outside, but I got the impression as “Glenda” talked with us that this is where they spend all their time.

A very nice man with tattoos all over him was getting snacks ready for the children.

I asked where the cribs were, and without a straight answer I pretty much learned she doesn’t have cribs for the babies. And all the children, regardless of age, spend all day together. “Glenda” was very proud of her high ranking and she spent a lot of time talking about this, but I never could tell what the hell they do with the children all day besides “not encourage them to color within the lines.”

It was all quite strange and surreal and I sorta felt like I was in a gingerbread house fairy tale and I might get cooked for dinner. Anyway, we both left the house feeling very confused and I asked Lisa when we got in the car, “What the hell just happened in there?” It was way too freaky to even appropriately describe.

Last night, I dreamed Chris and went to look at a downtown daycare where all the care providers had some sort of very strange malady or disfigurement such as a melted off face, an arm for a hook, etc. and they were all men, too, holding the babies and feeding them bottles. It almost seems more normal than the weird real place we went to today.

Before I scare/bore you with my crazy hormonal stories, I first wanted to thank everyone for the sweet comments they have been leaving here! It is so much fun to read them, and will be so neat to have these to look at in the future as I reflect back on this crazy time! Thanks to those of you who gave the rubber band suggestion. It is working like a charm, and I have gotten some more wear out of some pants I was afraid I was going to have to retire at least for the next year or so. I ended up buying some flowy long shirts this weekend to get me through this transition period. They are NOT maternity shirts, but I have already had one person who knows I am pregnant point at my belly, so I know they are making me look bigger than I really am. Oh well, I just need to be comfortable right now.

Jessica P, tell Gigi I cannot wait to find out if we are having a boy or a girl. I think I won’t get to have the “big” ultrasound until 19 or 20 weeks and I sure hope they will be able to tell what gender the gerbil is. Ok, here is my doozy of an update, and its all about my crazy, uncontrollable hormones! Those of you who know me pretty well know I am not really a confrontational kind of person. I have a big flaw that I am terribly impatient, but for the most part, it takes a lot to see the nasty side of me. Well, that all flew out the window a couple of weeks ago. Chris and I went to a Predators hockey game a few Saturday nights ago. We have half season tickets, so we go all the time (except for the three games I missed when I was dealing with 24/7 sickness).

Anyway, the game was sold out, so it was packed and if you have ever been to the Sommet Center, when you are in your seats, people have to stand up to let you out because the aisles are so narrow. Right after a time out had ended, this guy got up from the dead middle of the aisle causing everyone to stand up and block the fans behind them to let him through. All this was happening when the puck was in play – it’s a big no-no in the world of hockey etiquette to do this. Typically, I would at most roll my eyes after the person passed, but this time I had to confront this poor sap and tell him why it was not very smart for him to do what he just did. I will say, when he came back, he went the other way! It was stupid, not a big deal, but really out of character for me.

Well that was just the beginning of my wrath. I drove Chris and I home from the game now that I am the designated driver for obvious reasons. While driving down a narrow street really close to our house, we became blocked due to some bad parking at a frat party. We live right by Vanderbilt, and there are tons of college students renting houses all around us. There were cars parallel parked across from each other on this very narrow street, in addition to a large SUV beside those cars who had halfway pulled into the driveway, leaving the other half of his car obstructing the road. I was not happy about having to back up and take the long way to our house, so I called the non-emergency line to get them to tell these frat boys to get their car out of the road. Instead of turning left on our road, I turned right and decided to circle back around to the cars and the house where the party was taking place.I then laid on the horn for about a minute (its 10 p.m. on a Saturday night by this time) and rolled down my window so I could scream at anyone who would listen.

You may be wondering where Chris is in all of this commotion. He was totally encouraging me to be a crazy you know what, and he gets out of the car to try and direct me through the obstacle course that are these terribly parked cars. When we got home a few minutes later, I asked him why the heck did he let me fly off the handle? He just laughed and said something like, “I figured you needed to let all of this extra steam out, and better them than me.”

Last night, I stubbed my toe on Chris’ luggage (he just got back from a five-day trip to Austin for the South by Southwest conference) I began crying because, man that hurt, but it soon spiraled into a huge sob-til-you-gasp-for-air while mascara runs down your face meltdown that lasted around 10 minutes. All the while Chris was looking at me like I grew another head and laughing because he had never seen me cry like that. That just made it worse. I cried so hard, I eventually threw up. It was awful.Today, I feel terrible and I still feel like I am on the verge of tears.

I have to get a handle on these crazy hormones!

Well, I thought the gerbil was a plum but its really a lime. It won’t be a plum until week 12. Is it just me or does a plum seem smaller than a lime? I don’t know, these fetal growth charts are a little confusing!

Today I woke up to about 3 inches of snow, but the roads are clearing now and I hope to get out and find a few “fat” pants. I am not showing yet, but I am rocking some awesome bloat action right now and the ole gut is really causing me some problems. My pants don’t fit, my shirts are too tight, and it’s just going to get worse from here!

I have decided I will do a bit of chronicling my pregnancy on my blog. We’ll see if anyone cares to read about it. To get you caught up, I found out I was pregnant on Jan. 21.

Chris and I decided that we would try to start our own little family after we returned from what we called our “Last Hurrah,” our 3 1/2 week trip around Europe. I am so happy that we decided to take that trip, and the memories we created will definitely last us a lifetime — we just hope we will be going back again sometime soon.

So after a few months of trying, we were happy to find out, as Chris so eloquently put it, “My guys can swim!” I knew I did not want to continue to use my current “lady doctor” for obstetrical services, so I quickly made appointments with two OB/GYNs and one nurse mid-wife (just in case I decided to go “new age”).

I settled on a former Vanderbilt OB/GYN who recently started a private practice, but still delivers at Vanderbilt. Being a nearly 7-year employee of this fine institution, I really couldn’t imagine giving birth elsewhere. It’s been my job to promote our great doctors and services, so I might as well get a personal experience here.

We had our first appointment (yes, I dragged Chris along) with our doctor on Feb. 26. At that time, I was around 9 weeks pregnant. They were able to do an internal ultrasound, and our doctor immediately found what we will now be calling, “the blob” or “the gerbil” until we get a 3-D ultrasound and learn the sex at about 20 weeks.

The blob/gerbil was quickly found and was flailing about in my uterus, looking truly like a gerbil in a little running ball. Chris literally exclaimed once the image popped up on the screen, “It’s a gerbil!” I found that hysterical. The doctor said our little olive-sized gerbil looked great, the heartbeat was detected and little limb buds were beginning to sprout. Our little gerbil was developing right on schedule.

When we got the print, the gerbil looked more like a blob, but hey, it’s my blob and I am proud of it! I’ll carry that sucker around in my wallet and proudly show it off for the next several weeks.

My one concern that we talked to the doctor about was the way I had been feeling. From about 5 weeks on, I was feeling terrible. Morning sickness is a myth - I think most pregnant women experience it 24/7. I felt like I did. The nausea, dry heaves, dizziness and weakness were relentless! I had occassional bouts of vomiting, but those were infrequent thank God! I heard stories of girls having to be hospitalized for dehydration. That is scary!

Anyway, I tried a myriad of things to try to cure or at least control my 24/7 sickness: “sea bands,” those little sweatbands with accupunction pressure points that old men wear on cruises, to help combant my nausea; saltines and more saltines; ginger ale - ick - I hate it and it did not help and sour patch kids, which really seemed to work for about a week until I guess I ate too many and now the sight of them disguist me.

Nothing really seemed to work. My hygeine standards plummeted as I resorted to bird baths in between showers and my hair rarely got washed more than twice a week. Getting in the shower was stifling, even with just lukewarm water, and I would begin to see little black dots in just a few minutes of being in there.

And through all my misery, Chris was a dear. He literally had to wait on me hand and foot. In the mornings, when I woke up and attempted to get ready for work, I would nudge him at about 6:30 a.m. and ask him to bring me something to eat and a drink. I would eat that in bed, and try to feel good enough to shower and throw clothes on for work.

Chris drove me to work every day and picked me up. Sometimes I would only make it for a few hours, and he would kindly come get me. Then, I would get home, throw on my P.J.’s and collapse in the bed. I couldn’t even think of going to the gym or going on a long walk - a routine that I had previously been pretty strict about.

He turned into a food delivery man (catering to my wacky cravings), short order cook and a housekeeper. He has been awesome! I honestly didn’t think he had it in him, and I would not have made it without his help.

I have eaten garbage for weeks. If it is the opposite of what I would normall eat, I wanted it: cheeseburgers, fries, fried food, Taco Hell and gobs upon gobs of candy and milkshakes. No grilled fish, no salads — my normal mainstays. I have been terrible. My normal breakfast routine of a bowl of instant oatmeal flew out the window, and was replaced by sausage and biscuts and pop tarts.

So far, I have almost reached my 11th week (I believe the fetus is near the size of a plum now). Things are slowly getting back to normal — the dry heaving and dizziness has cooled down to a minimum. I have been able to work full days with no problem, and I’ll probably go back to the gym this week. My food aversions and cravings have calmed down — I had two salads today AND fruit! I hope I have turned a corner, never to return to the world of 24/7 sickness.

Well, we’ll see what the next few days bring. I have learned that I no longer have any control over my body!