My adventures in a multilingual, multinational marriage.

Thursday, November 29, 2012

Ninja baby and ziplock bags


The first time I felt little Baby kick, it was pretty weird. Pretty soon I got used to his occasional movements and it was reassuring, an affirmation that he was still doing okay in there. Now he moves around so often that I’m sure I would start to worry if a whole day went by and I hadn’t felt him even once.

From what I’ve heard, some babies are more active than others. It may have just as much or more to do with the mother’s body than the baby’s actual movements, but I’ve had some women tell me that they didn’t feel their babies kick very often. In the same way that before Baby kicked, I wasn’t really worried about him kicking or not, if he’d never kicked much, I don’t suppose I would want him to kick more. Now that he does, it just seems normal that he should continue to do so.

And, man, does he kick. I’m actually looking forward to my next ultrasound, hoping to get some good movement while we’re watching, because my imagination is starting to run wild with the things I’ve felt. He’s big enough now that he can simultaneously hit both sides of my abdomen. Sometimes it’s a series of hard jabs. In which case, I’ve found that I can calm him down by moving around a bit. Other times I feel more of a pressure, like he’s trying to stretch out my uterus to make more space.

Some of my most common fantasies about his activities include mixed martial arts or acrobatics training, swimming and dancing. I have a feeling that this kid is going to cause some trouble in the next few years. I imagine turning my back on him for only a second and finding him scaling the dresser drawers just like his uncle used to do.

The strangest and probably least expected thing for me about Baby’s daily yoga practice is not how it feels, but rather how it looks. I don’t know why it never occurred to me that I would be able to see him moving from the outside. It just didn’t. When I was first able to feel the kicks, everyone I talked to sprang this news on me, but it wasn’t enough time to process before it actually started happening. That’s some really exorcist shit to see a little creature moving around inside your belly.

I get the feeling that Baby is not a big fan of flying, especially the landing. He’s been particularly rambunctious today, and it kinda felt like he was trying to make a break for it as the plane landed in Houston. He started to get a little buck when we landed in Omaha, but I did a little dance and he chilled out. I can’t say I blame him. I find travelling to be pretty uncomfortable myself. On the bus from Xela to Guate, I had to break out the trusty ziplock bag to vom. While the “morning” sickness subsided a couple months ago, the motion sickness is still on in full effect it seems. I remember when I was little EVERYTHING gave me motion sickness: cars, planes, trains, milk. I think I spent more time throwing up as a kid than anyone I know. As I got older, it never went away, but it got more tolerable. Now I feel like I’m starting from scratch again. I guess parenthood is the second childhood. Baby, all I’m gonna say is that you just better be cute.

Thursday, November 15, 2012

The Belly Project

Ever since starting the secret baby blog, I've really started to miss my regular blog. I guess it's true: You don't know what you've got 'til it's gone. Luckily, I'm inconsistent enough with my blogging that my absence went completely unnoticed, but now that the news is out, I'll be moving all of my blogging- baby and otherwise- back here. Let's be honest, though, pretty much everything worth writing about at this point is the ten extra pounds sitting on my bladder.

The growing belly is a magical place. I'm not totally sure how it works, but one minute I'm sporting the tiniest of bumps and the next I look like I'm smuggling a beach ball. I've definitively reached that point where, even at its smallest, I often get confused looks from Guatemalans on the street that say: Who knocked up the gringa? But, somehow, I had imagined the growth process to be more linear. This is more of a two steps forward one step back type deal, though.

At my checkup last week, I had gained ten pounds since getting pregnant. Baby also looks almost two weeks older than he really is. (We're not finding out the sex until the baby is born, but I'll be using male pronouns. Most of you know that I'm not one to use male pronouns as default, but I had a dream and you can't prove me wrong yet. I wish there were a pronoun specifically for babies that meant: Who cares what the sex or gender of a person who has yet to form an identity is.) I realized after leaving the doctor's office that when Cris and I met a few years ago, I weighed about what I do now. So why do I feel huge now if I felt normal then? My theory is this: When I weighed ten pounds more a few years ago, it was a well-distributed ten pounds. Everything was bigger head to toe. Now, the only parts that have grown are centrally located. My hips have spread a little and my boobs have gained half a cup size, but most of that weight is all in my abdomen.

The result of such concentrated weight gain? Well, for one thing, it's a constant battle to keep my posture. I often catch myself with my back seriously arched and the belly all out there. Also, unlike normal weight gain, my abdominal wall is seriously stretched out. The muscles still work, just not in all directions. Particularly my lower abdominal muscles are unable to move in a crunch type motion. Since I have no desire to do crunches, that shouldn't matter, right? Well, think about all the positions that the easiest way to get out of is with that very movement. Now imagine (or try if you’re adventurous) getting up from one of those positions without using your lower abdominals. For the most part, you can get up by just swinging around to the side, no problems. But once in a while, something impedes that motion. Some of my more amusing solutions to this problem have been Cris having to pull or push me and, my personal favorite, the time that I had to roll sideways onto the floor to get off the couch. In my defense, I had my legs elevated and the position was deceptively easy to get into. So far, this has only provided a few moments of hilarity for Cris and I, but as the belly grows, I can only image this situation becoming more comical, and with any luck, my evil genius of a spouse will manage to get you all some evidence of it.