Jessica Writes

My eyes! My eyes!

I saw one of these nifty contraptions in the store the other day and its image has been burned into my mind. The sight of this hands-free breast pump literally has me shaking in my boobs, er, boots. This is NOT normal! I don’t even want to think about strapping one of these medieval torture devices on several times a day!

Ok, and who the heck would talk on the phone while a machine sucks milk out of your boobs? I can just imagine catching up a friend while I am being milked. How would that convo go?

“Hey, Jess, how’s it going?”

“Things are great! I just got a hands-free breast pump so I am making lunch for Baby Ennis as we speak, isn’t that delightful? It’s so convenient to be able to milk myself and go about my daily tasks at the same time!.”

“Uh, I gotta go, umm, wash my hair. Talk to you in 9 to 12 months after I receive extensive therapy to purge the mental image of you, a mini-dairy farm, out of my mind.”

Click.

Before I got pregnant, I heard people talking about baby brain aka placenta brain where the baby basically feeds on your brain cells therefore making you suffer from memory loss, forgetfulness, confusion, distraction and disorganization. I now know this horrible condition is not a myth, it is indeed yet another freaky symptom of pregnancy.

Great, another thing to add to the list! I am really beginning to feel I was abducted by aliens because I can’t think, I make no sense when I talk, I walk around like a 90 year old woman and I look like I have been eating for about 10 people, not two.

Anyway, so far this week I have managed to confuse dates of things with four people and its just hump day. This does not bode well for me. So far, no major screw ups, but I really, really cannot keep dates straight at all.

I am just 14/15 weeks pregnant (I am getting some conflicting info between the ultrasound tech and my OB.GYN) and I am already beginning to lose it. I fear what is going to happen when I am really pregnant. I think I am being totally over-dramatic about everything, but I really can’t help it. Sorry for all of you who have to put up with me during all of this!

I know am a very sensitive person (to pain and sensitive in general too), and I swear everything that I am going through is amplified because its me. I really feel like a big dork. I am already starting to waddle! I’m barely even showing and here I am walking around like a duck! This is not right! My joints seem all wonky and when I sit for a long time, it takes me a while to stand up straight — I do this waddle, hunched over limp for the first couple steps.

Last night, I had to get Chris to buy me a heating pad because I am having the worst lower back pain on my left side. I used it for 30 minutes and then I freaked wondering if I am cooking the baby! Augh! Like I said, what kind of shape am I going to be in (mentally, especially!) at 6 or 7 months? Its a scary prospect!

Last night was the first night of childbirth class for me and Chris. I knew it would be a little early for me to take the class, but my friend who is 10 weeks further along and her husband wanted us all to take the class together so that’s what we did. I am probably 10 weeks less along than anyone else in there. Some people look like they might drop a baby at any second and this is a five week class!

I learned some interesting things tonight:

Although the video we watched suggested bringing a rolling pin to the hospital as a massage tool, that is NOT recommended. I wonder if anyone beat the crap out of their significant other with a rolling pin during labor at some point.

The video was a lovely gem from the early 1990’s. It literally looked like the actors were pregnant crack whores and their lovers snatched from the street. One girl’s baby daddy had a skin head hair cut (shaved on the sides, long everywhere else) and another girl’s partner appeared to molest her stomach with what I would call more than enthusiastic tummy rubbing. It was a little disturbing.

Most of the fathers-to-be in the class said their wive’s emotional state was the worst part of the pregnancy for them…including Chris!

I am fearful of next week — that is when we’ll be watching births on video. I don’t think I am ready to see that and think I’ll be doing that in less than 6 months. Augh!

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.