I’ll preface this update by saying, this blog is not about to become a pregnancy diary. I’ve been fairly quiet and private about this cuh-razy news online and in my real life for a number of reasons. For one, some of it just seems weird to share. For another, there are [very important] people in my life going through some completely unfair, unfathomable circumstances with regards to babies right now and while I feel their love and also completely blessed, it’s not entirely comfortable to be celebrating in such a public way at the same time that people I adore are suffering.
So, I don’t really plan to make many changes in the way of content around here (except, God willing, showing up more often). Here and there, sure, but mostly I’ll continue to ramble. Today I thought it would be fun to reveal what I’ve been up to for the past few months while growing this little creature.
Truthfully, it still doesn’t seem entirely real. With the exception of the fatigue and heartburn I mentioned last week, I’ve felt really pretty normal. My appetite has been really small — embarrassingly — like on Valentine’s Day when we went out to dinner and I could only manage two bites of my filet mignon. Literally. Small ones. Eating too much made me feel like I was going to be ill, but not eating at all left me completely depleted and obviously, empty. My solution was packing myself elementary school lunches: single serve applesauce, pears or peaches “in light syrup”, an apple… maybe, a handful of raisins or like 10 almonds. Yogurt. It was sort of pathetic. Lunchtime was one of those times I was really grateful to be in a new job. My old colleagues would have figured me out in about two-point-two seconds.
I was sick about a half dozen times, only in the morning, and then it went away until resurfacing last week. I ate sleeve after sleeve of saltines, alternating with oyster crackers when I was feeling adventurous. Each moment I generally had a pretty crappy moment, but had usually forgotten about it by the time I got home and crawled into bed (before eight). I slept a lot. Oh, and peed constantly. Fun fact: pregnant women pee all the time because of hormones! I always thought it was weird when that kicked in right away… It’s the size of a thumbnail. It is not pressing on your bladder. Please. And honestly, that’s sort of it.
I’ve continued working out since we found out the news and have felt totally fine. As I mentioned last week, I ran through the first few months on a treadmill (slightly slower and more cautious than usual), which seemed to make me feel better in general. That’s one thing I’ll say, though. I made the switch to the treadmill quickly and definitively: the idea of falling on ice COMPLETELY freaked me out once I found out I was having a baby. Almost as soon as I got the news, I also returned to the barre studio. I wonder if anyone gets in better shape while pregnant, I pseudo-challenged myself. Barre workouts are super low impact and super results oriented and as soon as I knew there was labor coming up at the end of the summer, I knew my core needed as much help as I could give it.
Barre class has been amazing. Truly. I actually think I have gotten in better shape over the past six or eight weeks I’ve been in class. My arms are definitely toning up, my butt and legs feel strong, and I think my face looks a little bit leaner, too. Most importantly, I feel so good during and after class, and have found the sense of community I’ve been missing since leaving my yoga studios in the city with the job change.
Late last week was the first time I looked in the mirror and thought, oh wow, maybe my belly is growing. Since I carry my weight in my middle to begin with, nothing has looked all that different to me, so I haven’t been taking weekly or monthly photos at all. I snapped one in the fitting room when I changed for class because I guess you have to start documenting sometime.
In hindsight, maybe not so much yet, but soon!