Category Archives: pregnancy

baby dances to the funk

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I decided amidst my anxiety last week to start seeing a therapist. Sure it was only 4 days of anxiety, but for this mama that was 4 days too many. I know myself well, and am quite familiar with the ghosts that like to lurk around in my soul. Those ghosts have lost much of their power over the years as I’ve built a strong wall of therapy, support groups and unconditional love around me, but I know all too well that with the right combination of hormones, significant life changes, and lazy brain chemicals they can grab me and suck me into their world. That’s a place I am not eager to visit, especially when my life is about someone else right now….a tiny someone else who is relying on me to nourish her and keep her calm. Besides, I love the idea of therapy while pregnant. It’s so natural for issues from the past and anxieties about the future to come up throughout your pregnancy. It’s an enormous life change and there are so many unknowns from how you will experience pregnancy to the birth to becoming a mother to totally altering your lifestyle. Anyway, it’s great to have someone (professional) to unload all that on so you can focus on creating a healthy, peaceful environment to bring your baby into.
So what’s so interesting about seeing a therapist? Well, if you live in “the happy valley,” as they call my area, you might get a little more than talk therapy (i.e. there may be singing bowls, energy work or dancing involved). This is one of the reasons I was drawn to the area—the hippie factor. It’s pretty similar to the culture of San Francisco (where I thrived) with its open-minded community, focus on natural living and natural healing, and a wealth of intuitive people who seem to be living on a totally different spiritual plane than mainstream America. That being said, I wasn’t surprised when my therapist asked me to go home, put on music that I love and dance with my baby. I admit, I was somewhat skeptical of this assignment and put it off until the last minute, but it was honestly the most therapeutic thing I’ve done in a long time.
Normally, my life is chock-full of therapeutic activities—yoga, painting, exercise, meditation, weekly support groups, etc. It is that lifestyle that keeps me sane, creative and motivated. But, I left that lifestyle back in Stamford, CT when I moved into temporary housing over the summer while insanely trying to find a house to buy in “the happy valley” with just 2 months to do so. All those therapeutic activities that make me “me” were pushed to the side….then I got pregnant and we moved. Don’t get me wrong, learning I was pregnant was a joyous occasion and my husband and I were intentionally trying to conceive, but the reality of the timing meant being catapulted from a stressful few months of fearing we’d have no place to live to suddenly being in a new place, surrounded by boxes I couldn’t for the life of me unpack, and spending my days throwing up and passing out from severe exhaustion. Where was I in that mess? I was lost. There isn’t much you can do for yourself other than try to survive when you have a tough first trimester (which for me was more like a tough 17+ weeks).
So, by the light of a string of blue Christmas lights last night I turned on some music. At first I wasn’t drawn to dance though, I was drawn to sing. And with one song, I found my voice again—the voice that is so full of emotion and passion, the voice I haven’t heard in so very long. Halfway through the song I started to cry, partly due to the hormones, but partly due to remembering the “me” that has been lost in the shuffle of a chaotic transition. The tears made me feel like I was not following my therapist’s instructions very well so I changed the music. Where would I find my joy, where could I dance? Phish.
Back before Alex and I were trying to conceive, Phish concerts were our thing (at least one of our many things). The hot summer nights, the freedom and carefree energy in the air, and the insane music….music that can transport you to places so enthralling and hypnotic. There is nothing like it, and the experience is such a release that you leave feeling light and euphoric for days.
With the flickering of blue lights in my dark living room, and my eyes closed, I was able to transport myself to a Phish concert. The memory of those experiences immediately grabbed hold of me….and of course, I started crying again (oh the hormones!). As I suddenly found the energy to dance to the entire 20 minute 57 second version of “You Enjoy Myself” after not being able to summon enough energy to get off the couch all day, I found myself there, dancing to the funk. It was amazing to feel my old self again—the self that was not stressed by mortgage applications, seemingly fruitless housing searches and attempts to conceive, never-ending lists of house projects, fighting to stay healthy while living on rice cakes and preggie pops, parades of contractors waltzing through my house, and the fear that I will somehow mess up this whole mothering thing. Ahhhhh.
As I danced though, I experienced a completely new sensation—the co-mingling of my old self/life with this new one I am growing into. I was lost in the music, but very aware that I was dancing with a partner. It was an ah-ha! moment of realizing this new, strange experience would be my life from now on….a balancing act, an attempt to be my own, whole self while being a fully present mother. As long as baby girl doesn’t mind being strapped to my chest while I dance in hippie circles, I think we’ll be all right:)
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21 weeks

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When I look at my belly these days I am nothing short of awe-struck. The bigger and rounder it gets, the more aware I am of the human life growing inside it….something that never ceases to fascinate me. I obviously understand the biology and mechanics of the whole operation, but I still cannot get beyond the magic of it. It’s insane that this fluttering, somersaulting creature who kicks me when she’s hungry is going to emerge into this world and be her own, wonderful self…my daughter…and someday a mother herself. I cannot wait to watch her live and grow, but there is something so comforting about this part of her life, her beginning. For now, we are living as one, completely intertwined and connected by a magical cord that allows us to share everything. That is downright incredible…and an honor. And this sacred connection is what makes all the aches and pains, the months of toilet-hugging and disorienting exhaustion, and the constant emotional/hormonal rollercoaster somehow seem like the most amazing experience of my life.
Speaking of connections…the tiny kicks I’ve been feeling have become more of a communication or interaction between me and my baby girl, rather than just a random sensation in my abdomen. She tells me when she’s hungry, she tells me when she’s happily full, she tells me to calm down when I’m upset and in some sort of crazy telepathic way we have conversations at times. Of course, her favorite time to communicate is 4 am….but hey, it’s better than waking up at 4 am to puke.
Aside from my obviously wildly surging maternal hormones (which only means I’m writing this while the roller coaster car makes its way up the hill;), since we found out the gender last week we’ve been able to get moving on the nursery. I cannot wait to start putting the room together, especially since it’s been a construction zone/hot mess since we moved in! We picked out a nice neutral colored paint and I have started to collect colorful decorations.
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mama guilt

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Have you seen the show I’m Pregnant and? It’s a reality show that features a different woman each episode, and a different ending to the sentence “I’m pregnant and…” For example, “I’m pregnant and addicted,” “I’m pregnant and a stripper,” “I’m pregnant and have an eating disorder.” I had never heard of this show until about a month ago when I decided to watch it out of curiosity. One show turned into at least four or five that night (not proud). I found myself obsessed with knowing what kinds of mistakes other pregnant women were making, because the truth is I feel like I am constantly making mistakes. Granted, my body is a pretty pure vessel given my obsession with organic foods, not drinking or using drugs (pregnant or not), exercise, food-based supplements, specially filtered water, avoidance of parabens, BPAs, and heavy metals, refusal to eat processed food….and the list of obsessive healthy practices goes on. So how can I feel like I have anything in common with a knocked up meth addict, how can I feel like I am not taking care of my unborn child as well as I should be? Because “I’m pregnant and a perfectionist.”

It might sound crazy, and it probably is, but I have this overwhelming guilt that I am not doing enough and am somehow negatively affecting my baby girl in numerous ways. I attribute this problem in part to my over-zealous thirst for pregnancy-related information. I have read so many books and devoured so many websites, which makes me an incredibly informed expectant mother who can make sound decisions about what she wants as far as care providers, support, parenting and how I want this whole giving birth thing to go down. But, all that information can be anxiety-provoking and completely overwhelming. I’ve suddenly found myself collapsed in this guilt the past week and I think it’s because I’ve read one too many books. The pressure of all the lists of “10 foods every pregnant woman should eat every day in order to have a healthy baby,” “30 essential exercises and stretches you should do every day in order to have a successful birth,” “6 different types of kegels that you should do 100 reps of every day if you don’t want to end up with a c-section,” “5 relaxation habits you should adopt if you don’t want to emotionally scar your unborn child,” “3 classes you need to take before you give birth”……gasp….can’t breathe….pressure. I need to do all this to be a healthy pregnant woman and good mom? I don’t go to a 9-5 job every day and I still say who has the time to do all that, especially while they are pregnant?!!

I know there are women out there who have fabulous pregnancies, who feel healthier and more energized during their pregnancies than they did beforehand, but these women are the exception. And I am not one of them. The simple fact is being pregnant is hard work! Growing another human being is no small task for your body and can make getting through each day a challenge unlike anything you’ve ever known. I’m not saying it isn’t magical, it isn’t an honor to experience or it isn’t worth it, but the reality is you have very little control over how your particular, unique body responds to pregnancy (something that is very difficult for me to accept). You may go into pregnancy with the best intentions in the world, you may be like me and have a list of healthy foods, exercises and relaxation methods you intend to use when you finally get that positive on a pregnancy test…..but if you have terrible morning sickness, exhaustion or any one of a number of pregnancy complications, you will have no choice but to abandon your intended “plan” and do what you have to just to survive. And that’s where I find myself today—doing the best I can, but constantly thinking about that obsessive list I made in my head pre-pregnancy, feeling guilty about not having it in my usually disciplined, but now incapacitated self to follow.

Yes, part of my guilt and self-imposed pressure comes from all the books I’ve read and suggestions I’ve heard, but it’s obviously more than that. It is the pressure my unrealistic, expect-too-much parents put on me as a child that I have unfortunately taken to putting on myself as an adult, that causes me to interpret all these suggestions as necessary….and if I’m not doing those necessary things, I’m not doing enough. So what if I feel nauseous or dizzy or like the living dead, that’s what dirt is for…rub some on it and walk it off. But guess what? A pregnant body and a growing fetus do not care about your self-imposed psychological pressure—I’ve found you simply cannot push a pregnant body, it calls the shots and you have no say.

It’s probably no coincidence that the universe gave me the type of pregnancy I’m experiencing (horrible 24 hr nausea, food aversions, uncontrollable dizziness, 20 weeks and still completely exhausted and weak). I cannot control it, but the perfectionist in me tells me I can and I am failing. Really though, I have no choice but to learn to surrender and cultivate compassion for myself….to feel proud of all the good, healthy things I am passing on to my child just by sharing a body with her. And perhaps I need to consider that I’m probably not the first pregnant woman who has struggled to incorporate exercise into her life as often as “the books” tell her to (or at all) or hasn’t been eating 7 servings of veggies a day or who cries and screams and gets upset sometimes instead of striking a yoga pose. Because the truth is, I can be as hard on myself as I want, but it is not a clue that I am a bad mother. It is a clue that I care so much (maybe obsessively so, but I care nonetheless) and I want to give my baby the best I possibly can just like any other mother.

Why I’ve allowed this anxiety to take me over this week I have no clue. But, after 4 days of feeling this way I’ve decided to admit it and move on. The funny thing is, amidst all of my worry, baby girl has begun kicking me with more strength than I thought was possible at 20 weeks (so much so that you can now feel her on the outside of my belly, which isn’t supposed to happen for a few more weeks—so exciting!). Honest to god, whenever I start talking to my husband about my guilt or how much I’m not doing, she starts to flail about like crazy. I think it is her way of saying I’m here, I’m strong, I’m okay….now stop beating up on yourself and get me a sandwich!

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20 weeks: sugar and spice

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Yes, my maternal instincts were correct! It’s a girl! And she’s a funny little lady already. The ultrasound took SO long yesterday because my sweet little angel was in what the technician referred to as a “bizarro position.” She apparently really prefers to be upside down at all times, folded in half with her legs straight up against her body, knees to her nose. This is obviously NOT a great position for ultrasound purposes, but that stubborn little Taurus was not about to move. She was a wild woman who would not stop flailing about, just not out of her little yoga pose (you are so right Natalie, she is already practicing yoga in the womb—that’s my daughter!). Regardless, it was pretty fascinating to take a peak at all her organs and blood flowing through her body. We got right inside all 4 chambers of her heart, which was insane.
It’s incredible how much more connected I feel to the baby now that I can frame my daydreams in terms of gender. I can picture our little girl running up to the front door when daddy gets home at the end of the day, mother/daughter moments, Alex and I calling her downstairs for dinner. It’s also nice being able to refer to her as “her” instead of “it” or “the baby.” And we are already calling her by her name and trying out all her possible nicknames, which definitely makes it feel more real.
I also had a real “mother” experience this week when I clumsily missed the last 3 stairs on our staircase and fell down hard. Thankfully I didn’t hit my belly at all, but I still immediately burst into crazy tears. Alex was completely stunned by my reaction and how hysterical I was. I could not stop crying for a good 20 minutes. All I could say in the moment was that I know the feeling of being a mother now—it was heartbreaking for me to consider that my child could’ve been hurt, painful in a way that I couldn’t bear to even consider it. Of course, she’s absolutely fine as you have to suffer major trauma to the belly in order to come close to disturbing the protective womb the baby is living in. But, I was still wide awake all night worrying about the minor fall and anxiously monitoring her movement inside me. It was definitely a good preview of the intense emotions that accompany parenthood. Woah!
Alex put together the baby swing this week even though we won’t need it for another 4 months. He’s just too adorable—he could not be stopped, he wanted something to look at that would remind him of the reality about to hit our household. I’m really glad I let him have at it, because he gets so excited every time he walks by the swing now….sometimes he even pushes it or turns on the lullaby music. It’s amazing watching him blossom into a daddy and to see his excitement grow every day….which is why I asked him to start writing about the experience. Coming soon!
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boy or girl?!

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I can’t believe I only have a few more hours of not knowing whether I will snuggle a little boy or little girl four months from now! [Please cooperate little fetus and show us the goods!] I honestly would’ve wanted to know the gender immediately if there was some way to determine it upon conception. I love surprises and anticipation, and it has been sort of fun being able to dream up both scenarios in my head for the past 20 weeks, but I’m more than ready to know. I’ll even admit that I followed a link to “10 ways of predicting gender” that included some insane tests and ancient prediction games when I was about 7 weeks pregnant. P.S. All the old wives tales and tests have told me it’s a girl and my gut agrees….we’ll find out today though! 

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19 weeks

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 I am *ThisClose* to being halfway there, which has sent Alex and I into preparation mania. Time was moving so sloooowly the first half of my pregnancy that it felt like we had all the time in the world to get ready for the baby, but now it is just as my midwife warned me….as I approach 20 weeks, time is beginning to move so FAST! It seems like we have a never-ending list of things to get done before the baby arrives just in terms of finishing the house up (as much as possible). Let me tell you, moving during pregnancy is not recommended. Our house is still not fully unpacked or put together, and we are scrambling to finish the many necessary renovations we took on in buying this house. The house is one thing (and the most consuming), but there are still stacks of pregnancy/childbirth/baby books that I insist on reading (4 down, 1/2 way through 2 others, at least 4 more to go), meeting with and deciding on a doula, hypnobirthing classes, birth center tours, shopping, setting up the nursery, teaching Alex what to do with cloth diapers and nasal aspirators….and so. much. more.
On a lighter, less panicked note, I started feeling the baby move on Thanksgiving! I had thought I was feeling it a few weeks ago, but now realize that was probably my organs finding new homes or something of the sort. This is unlike anything else. It’s so bizarre to feel the tiny, gentle movements of a 6-inch human being inside you—it’s mind-boggling, oh-so-magical, and incredibly alien-like all at the same time. The less pleasant part of Thanksgiving, though, was when Alex put my plate of food in front of me and I instantly freaked out at the sight and smell of it, insisting he take it away immediately. I ended up having a plate of toast and cupcakes for my Thanksgiving meal, with an organic frozen burrito for dessert. Oh, pregnancy!
I also took my first trip to a maternity store, and holy crap was that overwhelming! So far I’ve been buying all my maternity clothes online, but I desperately needed some assistance with figuring out how to holster my new….uh…..twins? I can’t think of a polite way to put it, and apparently I’m more into over-sharing while pregnant. I will say that I highly recommend buying new bras early in your pregnancy. I did not heed that advice and have been in so much pain every day as I’ve been cutting off my circulation. Over-sharing aside, what is with maternity stores?? Maybe it was a freak occurrence, maybe it was because I went in the middle of a workday so the salesladies were bored, maybe it’s because I look like an easy target? I don’t know, but I went in looking for one thing and a saleswoman immediately jumped on me, figured out all my sizes, and honestly within the 5-10 minutes I was browsing she filled an entire dressing room FULL of clothing…..10 head-to-toe outfits and then a myriad of random items. I don’t get it. But, I left there so overwhelmed and exhausted. Back to online shopping for me!
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baby dreams

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In exactly one week Alex and I will find out the gender of this tiny person growing inside me….eeek! I don’t know if other couples get this excited about it, but Alex and I are craaaaazy excited! Alex has been doing a countdown since 10 days before our appointment (so cute:) and I find myself lost in daydreams of who this child will be.

To me, there is no element of surprise lost in finding out the gender now rather than in 20+ weeks. The gender is exciting, but inconsequential to the surprises I will begin to uncover the day I give birth—the biggest being who is this little being?!! Followed by many other little things like whose eyes and whose nose does he/she have, what name fits him/her (I think we have to meet before we 100% settle on a name so we have picked out a few options), what kind of personality will he/she come screaming into this world with?? All these things are far bigger surprises for me than whether I buy pink pajamas or blue. But, for now, finding out the gender is a little baby excitement hit while we wait (and wait!) for the big day to finally arrive….and it means I can finally start decorating the nursery!

In the meantime, I thought it’d be fun to look back through Alex’s and my childhood photos, studying our little faces in order to help me imagine my future child. We had great fun doing this, but it actually made me feel even more impatient to lay eyes on my child:) I can’t find the better pictures of me as a baby at the moment, but here are a few….

Baby Alexa, 2 months and looking nothing like I do now (pictured with my aunt)
I look quite delirious.
Baby Alexa, 1 year
If we have a little girl, this is what Alex pictures
Alex the day he was born. Would you look at those chubby cheeks?!
He was born a month late and you can tell.
This is what I picture my little boy looking like—so freaking cute,
I cannot stand it!
He looks like such a relaxed baby, like he’s thinking “hey there, this is my floor,
this is my rattle, what’s going on?”
Little boy Alex (on the left, pictured with his brother). Cuteness.
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18 weeks

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For whatever reason, the excitement level in our household really ratcheted up this week. My belly went on a crazy growing spree, which was part of the excitement for Alex and I. There’s no denying there’s a baby in there now…..and there’s no way I can sleep without my “new husband,” the pregnancy pillow now that I have a substantial bump (something Alex isn’t the biggest fan of given his side of the bed is getting smaller and smaller, inch by inch;).

The other thing that was exciting for us was taking our first trip to Babies R Us, which is something I thought Alex would hate because he thinks shopping is about as fun as watching a Lifetime movie marathon. Much to my surprise, though, he was ALL about it. He actually allowed me to peruse every section of the store, which is unheard of (normally, he is dragging me out of every store I spend more than 45 seconds in). I will admit, I sort of felt like we were playing house/pretend picking out baby swings and strollers. Alex, on the other hand, felt pumped to be a father-to-be. It made it feel all the more real for him, which was exciting for me to see since I often feel he (and all men) gets cheated out of physically and spiritually experiencing the transition into parenthood, because it’s not happening inside his body. But, he’s about as connected to this experience as any man I’ve ever seen….and I think he’s quite all right with not having to be pregnant.

I have to say, while I am enjoying this experience more and more, I am also more and more afraid to go out in public. It’s not a vanity thing either, it’s that…..well, I’m kind of scary at the moment. I’ve read that in month 5 even the most passive, quiet (pre-pregnancy) women can become confrontational as heck. I definitely used to be pretty passive with people I didn’t know pre-pregnancy, but now….let’s just say there were quite a few people fearing for their lives as I made my way through Whole Foods yesterday. It’s so bizarre, because at times I feel more open and connected to people than I was before I was pregnant, but in an instant my mood can switch and it will appear as if I want to rip your face off. It’s usually for a totally irrational reason too, such as flipping out on a Whole Foods employee (poor guy!) for asking me if I needed any help, because he interrupted my conversation with Alex . Oh, hormones…

I also went a little nuts taking pictures this week. I haven’t really been “into it” up until now, but I suddenly felt like showing off the bump during this week’s shoot and I felt a little crazy while doing.

I can’t believe I am SO close to being halfway through my pregnancy….insane! In just the blink of an eye there will be a whole new life here, a tiny person who will completely shake up the quiet life Alex and I know. I cannot wait!
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belly art

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There are so many creative ways to turn pregnancy into art, from maternity photos to belly casting to body painting to henna, the possibilities are endless. All of this, of course, makes my head spin because I can’t seem to narrow down the list of ways I’d like to commemorate my own pregnancy. This is such a beautiful, meaningful experience and a time in my life that I not only want to remember forever, but would love to be able to share with my future child someday. But, there is only so much time and I have only so much energy. Currently on my list: weekly belly shots, full maternity shoot, journal, a few paintings, videos, belly cast, and a children’s book for the baby telling the story of how he/she came to be (I got this amazing idea from my oh-so-talented friend Hannah, love it).

I think this is an amazing idea, but my husband does not agree so we’ll see…

I really like the idea of painting my belly cast gold.

For DIY belly casting or belly painting kits, visit Proud Body Pregnancy Art.

I hadn’t considered doing a belly painting, but this one is pretty incredible.
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17 weeks

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I feel myself blossoming into a mother more now. The crazy protective instincts and constant worry about doing everything perfectly for my growing child while pregnant have been there for a while, but the spiritual shift from individual to mother has been more slow to come. But, as difficult as it is for a stubborn, independent girl woman to let go of the reigns and allow this tiny little being to guide my every move and totally reshape my life before I ever meet him/her…I feel myself finally surrendering. Prior to getting pregnant, I found it totally natural to give myself to children, to jump into their world and forget myself almost entirely. But, this is completely different. There are no breaks or days off (from pregnancy or motherhood) like there were when I was taking care of other people’s children. And at the moment, there is no more alone time to recharge, because I am never alone….the bean always makes its presence known. One of my very first moments of “oh my god, I’m really pregnant, I’m really going to be a mother” was when I was only 2 weeks pregnant. I was in a house full of loud people so I decided to go upstairs to be alone….which is when it occurred to me that (technically) I wasn’t alone. That continues to feel strange, always having a little passenger with me everywhere I go, but it feels more magical at this point.
I think it’s the fact that I naturally want to give children everything I can that has made me resist this great transition, and feel anxious about my future as a mother. Of course, like most mothers, I plan to strive for a balance between nurturing my child and nurturing myself….but, historically I haven’t been so great at finding balance. My passion has always caused me to dive into what’s in front of me with abandon until I’m burnt out. So, that will be my struggle in motherhood I’m sure.
Being pregnant has clouded my former ease with giving myself to a child, because it has been more difficult for me to conceptualize what, or more appropriately who, I am making all these sacrifices for for the past 17 weeks (really, for much longer than that given all the changes I made while trying to conceive and then before that, when preparing my body for “trying to conceive”). It’s been hard to surrender fully to the fact that I haven’t slept through the night for 17 weeks and won’t for some time, that I have grown to hate all my favorite foods, that I can’t hop on a plane and travel whenever I choose because my pregnant body is suffering from X, Y or Z, that I don’t have the energy to paint or work on my photography business….that I haven’t been “me” for the past 17 weeks (and when will I be again?).
Magically though, I have begun to feel more at peace with all those sacrifices. Maybe it was the nerve-wracking (but false alarm) pregnancy scare I had last week, or the hour I spent watching birthing videos with an uplifting friend, or the crazy Kanye West life-affirming moment I experienced during a car ride….whatever it was, I’m beginning to feel more like a mother….I’m beginning to see everything I do as something I’m doing for my precious child rather than something that is making my life difficult or less enjoyable (for no reason at all). I know that thought has been in my head this whole time intellectually, but it’s taken a while for it to really make sense. Perhaps it’s as simple as the mother-child bond that is growing in me day by day, and the indescribable feeling that I am beginning to know who this little person is even though we have yet to meet.
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