I moved!

So, in my quest for a fresh start (or "A New Start" if you will), I started a whole new blog. It's HERE. I hope you'll follow me!

Once Upon A Time...

Once upon a time, I had a blog. Then I got busy. Yesterday, I remembered my blog, but not long enough to actually do anything about it.

I miss blogging, but I feel like my blog was never really what I wanted it to be. But then again, I'm not really sure what I want it to be.

I don't think I'll ever make money blogging. I enjoy writing, and I enjoy talking about myself.

So, I'm not sure what to do. I am, however, considering scrapping the whole thing and starting over.

I'm all about fresh starts these days. I think it's the whole "turning 40" thing.

But what part of my life should I make the focus of the "new" blog? Parenting? There are probably enough Mommy bloggers out there.... Librarianship? I can never compete with some of those top librarian blogs, and I don't really want to. Fitness? Well, I could document my journey and my current failures and challenges....

All of it? Should I just blog about being a working mom who is a librarian and getting a doctorate in Education who loves to work out and if she can ever get herself together may have an organized house and compete in a physique competition?

I don't know....But I'll let you know when I figure it out... if I do....

This is me at 40, by the way...

The Birth of Lil' A....

I know I need to write down a super detailed birth story, so I can remember it (and tell my daughter REPEATEDLY)... but I'm not sure how much I can focus at this point. I did want to get some pictures posted, so there's that...

Tuesday morning was a particularly hard day. Physically, emotionally... it was hard. I did not feel well. Wednesday morning I woke at 4:00 am having contractions. As usual. I woke my husband up, only because he had asked me to wake him early so he could finish grading papers for class.

By 5:00 however, I knew I wasn't feeling right. I hadn't really felt the baby move, and my stomach was almost CONSTANTLY hard. I decided to take the kids to school and then possibly go to the hospital.

I kind of half assed timed contractions while I was getting ready. I showered, fixed my hair, put on a little make up. They were about 10 minutes apart, but it was getting hard(er) to breathe, and I found myself gasping for air almost constantly.

Got the kids to school. After I dropped them off, I noticed I felt like the contractions were much closer than every 10 minutes. I had no idea how close, but I was able to keep driving.

Went to the hospital. They checked me in.

One of the nurses asked, "Are you here by yourself?" I said,  "Yes, I wanted to make sure I knew it was the real thing before I get my husband here." They checked me and I was 3.5 cm and 80% effaced.

Around 8:30 I think was when I got the news that I would be staying and having a baby!!

I called my husband to tell him and since he was on his way to school to teach a 9 am class, he went ahead and went in just to tell everyone. Then he arrived at the hospital.

The doctor started by breaking my water. Things progressed quickly from there.

I knew going into this I wanted an epidural, so I ordered one right away. My poor husband watched while they started it, and it seemed to make him very nervous. It was more uncomfortable than I remember it being the last time. I felt a couple of odd shooting pains. And to tell the truth, the epidural never did give me the all out pain relief I was hoping for. More about that later.

I love large green hospital gowns.

The contractions were 2-4 minutes apart, but they needed them to be closer. So I was given a low dose of pitocin.

I sent my husband home to rest and started to watch Castle.

 Or Firefly.

I think there was a little of both. All I know was there was Nathan Fillion.

I've never had a medication-free birth, so I don't know how bad the worst contractions can feel. But, I do know that I was still feeling them quite a bit. My wonderful nurse called the Epidural Guy back at least 2 times to "top me off". Even then, it just never felt quite right. Although I was numb down there, so I guess that's something.

I think it was around 1:00 when my doctor came by and checked. I was at about a 7. She suggested I tell my husband to start making his way back, especially since I had gone from 7 to 10 with my second baby in a matter of just a few minutes.

I kept feeling like pressure down there. They checked and the baby was engaged. Every contraction was so strong and I felt like she was just going to walk out on her own.

They started to get everything ready:

I knew it was serious when they took the table away that had my computer on it. That meant I had to stop watching Firefly. I remember being kind of disappointed... but then realizing that was ridiculous.

I sent my husband a text. "How close are you? Shit's getting real..." Apparently that sent him into a speeding nervous frenzy.

After that everything happened super fast. I told my husband I wanted to time the pushing, so I asked him to keep track of the time. I started to push. I tried to count them but I lost count. I pushed hard and often- with breaks in between just long enough to catch my breath. I'm pretty sure it was less than 10 pushes. Lil' A was 8 pounds 2 oz and 20. 5 inches long. She was born at 2:05.

I was pushing little heart out and my doctor said, "Sarah, open your eyes and look down." And there she was. My little alien baby. I said "Holy Crap!" and they took her off to get her checked and fixed up.

My husband reported that I pushed for 7 minutes.

Because I pushed so little, she initially had some breathing issues. Lots of fluid. Of course, she cried immediately, which was reassuring. But I watched as they put oxygen masks to her fact and flicked her feet. I have no idea what her Apgar was.

I was able to hold her for a bit before they took her to the nursery:

For the next few hours, she was in the nursery. They were worried about her breathing and her circulation. She had some discoloration around her mouth which made them think she wasn't getting enough oxygen. She also had some mild shoulder dystocia from coming out. It seemed like an eternity before I got her back, and I was a bit worried. But eventually they brought her to me and I was able to nurse her and love on her.

Big brother and big sister didn't make it by until pretty late. Daddy took them to a birthday party they were really looking forward to. So at around 9:30 they showed up.

Very sweet. They approve.

 I chose to have a tubal ligation, and they scheduled it for Thursday morning. Because of this, they left the base of the epidural attached overnight. This meant no shower. It also meant lots of discomfort.

Thursday morning I had my tubal. They knocked me out. I finally got my relaxed, pain free nap. Honestly, I don't remember falling asleep, I just know that the next thing I remember was them waking me and telling me it was all done. And I felt sooooo relaxed.

Once the pain meds wore off it was very uncomfortable though...

We are home now and getting used to the new normal. Those last few days of pregnancy I had a terrible time breathing. I realize how bad it was now because of the difference- as soon as she got out, I was able to breathe easier. So, even though I'm recovering from childbirth and surgery, I feel a million times better. I can walk from room to room without getting light headed and breathless. These past few weeks were pretty hard on me.

But it was all so totally worth it:

My May Day Baby Girl

The one where I curse. A lot.

If bad language offends you, you should probably not read anymore. I'm having an emotional breakdown, so I figured I should record it on my blog and post it for the world to see.

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I've been pregnant twice before. I've made it to 39 weeks, 2 days with both kids. But I have never.... EVER... had this many contractions before they were born.

I've had so many "this is it" moments I can't even count anymore.

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Yesterday I sat through an hour long meeting timing contractions (and probably frightening co-workers). That's when I decided I think I'm done with work.

However, since I'm not independently wealthy, it's probably very irresponsible to take time off without pay. But at this point it's so hard I don't care.

Of course, I stayed home today because I woke up all through the night with a headache and feeling like I was going to throw up IN ADDITION to the contractions. But then at about noon, they all stopped. But you see- if I had gone to work, I would have had contractions all day. And probably thrown up AND had diarrhea.

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I do remember a point in every pregnancy where I completely give up and have a crying fit that lasts for a day and decide I absolutely can't do it anymore. With my son, it happened just before my water broke. Seriously. I was watching fitness infomercials and crying, and then I started watching "The Devil Wears Prada", and crying because they threw the steak away, and I was SO HUNGRY. I stood up, and my water broke.

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With my daughter, my dad was in the hospital in another state, and we all thought he was going to die. My family had told me the doctor said I could call him and ask him questions, but when I tried to call him, the receptionist said, "He said anything you need to know your family can ask him. He's not going to talk to you on the phone."

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Today was that moment with this pregnancy. This is the best way to describe me right now:

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So, I apologize if I've alienated everyone. But I just needed to let it all out. I do have it in perspective, deep down, and I'm looking forward to meeting my daughter. It's just at this point, I'm a) convinced it will never happen and b) concerned that by the time she gets here I will have lost my job, been evicted, and be living in the car I can't pay for.

At least then I won't have to pay $1300 a month for childcare...

Eff this ish..

Today I got fed up with the contractions. They got really bad, I called the doctor's office, they said if they continued to go to the ER.

I went to the ER.  They admitted me. They checked me.

After having contractions every day since my last doctor's appointment- on Tuesday- I had progressed ABSOLUTELY EFFING ZERO. Nothing. 2 centimeters, 50% effaced.

I hate everything.

EFF THAT.

Even though they hooked me up to the monitors and we were able to physically SEE the contractions happening, the nurse explained to me that what really matters is the effect the contractions are having... not the contractions themselves.

EFF YOU CONTRACTIONS.

So, at 5:15 they told me they would have me walk to see if we could get things going. She said, "You can have a cup of ice and go walk. Don't come back until 7:00- unless your water breaks, you can't walk because the contractions are so bad, or you're bleeding." (Well, she said it nicer than that... but still.)

So I walked.

I really got to know not only the Labor and Delivery unit, but the Post-Partum unit.

I made friends with nurses.

I did walking lunges. (Wow. That's a whole new kind of pain- doing a walking lunge with a baby in your pelvis. Holy crap.)

I walked by the nurses stations repeatedly. By the end of my walk, they all knew I had a 5 year old boy, a 2 year old girl, and was doing my best to get the baby girl out of my body.

I squatted through some contractions, until a nurse saw me and came running and asked if I was okay. So, after that I tried to do it when no one was around. Didn't want to alarm anyone.

I thought about Captain Mal, and applied his wisdom to my childbirth experiences:

"It never goes smooth! How come it never goes smooth?"

I returned to my room at 7, convinced that something had happened, because I was incredibly sore and tired.

Guess what:

NOTHING. 2 cm. 50%.

MOTHERF****ER JONES

So they sent me home.

That felt like a special kind of failure. I cried. A lot.

So I get to do this again until May 7. Because I'm pretty sure I can't handle another false alarm, so I'm not going in again unless my water breaks all over everything. I mean, those people on "I didn't know I was pregnant" have stomach aches, and then end up having a baby on the toilet or in the bathtub, right before the act break. But seriously, I'm not going to go through this again.

Oh Tobias. You blowhard.

The plan (as of right now) is as follows:
- Pretend I'm not pregnant.
- Ignore contractions
- Try working out again
- Do housework tomorrow
- Go to the hospital on May 7 and coerce her out.

So don't expect me to be nice. Or patient. Or friendly. And if you ask me "What's the hold up?" (like a co-worker did on Friday) I will probably punch you. And kick you. Hard.

As my son said as we drove to the hospital today: "I know you really want the baby to come out. I mean, that's why you cry a lot and pee all the time, right?"

And just to make me feel better, here's this:

"I'm a leaf on the wind..." Yes I know Captain Mal didn't say that. You want to argue with me?

Week 17: Dear Santa...

Dear Santa:
Since I can't control what my body does or looks like, and I can't control my skin and it's regression to age 13, I would like the opportunity to at least have good hair. Please set me up with a GOOD haircut and color. My roots are horrible and I can see little gray hairs that help to remind me of my "Advanced Maternal Age."

The roots are pushing 40 with the skin of a 13 year old.

I did much better working out last week, but I had a terrible time with food. I downloaded an app to track points, which is awesome (like Weight Watchers for poor people), and here's how every day went:

1. I start off the day determined to stay within my range.
2. I eat something I shouldn't.
3. I try to make room for it within my daily points.
4. I use my bonus weekly points to try to feel better about it.
5. Eventually I just give up, eat a bunch of crap, and reset my weekly points for the next day.

FAIL!

But, I'm happy to announce that today, Monday, I did MUCH better. Of course I weighed at the gym and gained 4 pounds in a week. I bet that was from the binging. This brings me back up to a total weight gain of 20 pounds at 17 weeks. GRRRRR.

Here are the workouts I did today:

In the morning, I dragged myself out of bed (with the promise of a non-fat, no-whip Salted Caramel Mocha) at 4:15 am, and did Body Beast: Build Chest and Triceps. I had to do every single pushup on my knees, and the tricep pushups were almost impossible. My butt was way in the air and I kept having to take breaks. So humbling.

Remember when I had muscles? (source)

 Then, at lunch I "ran". I am doing a "0 to 5K" with the 5K Runner app (I really should find links to these apps. Y'all look them up in the Itunes store.). Today I did Week 3, Day 1. I'm not sure if I will make it to the complete "Run 5K" workout... I may stay with one of the earlier weeks, since as I work up to running more, my belly will be growing. But anyway, I like it right now.

In other news:

1. I have caught up on "Once Upon a Time", "Revolution" and "American Horror Story: Asylum." All but "Asylum" (the hardest to watch for me) are on "hiatus". What am I going to do with myself? I may have to finally try watching "The Walking Dead." I know Cely raves about it, and I trust her judgement, and today my Facebook feed is BLOWING UP because last night was the "mid-season finale" (btw, when did they start having those? SOOOOOO lame). So, should I invest the time and watch it? Is it really like "Lost", or are those just empty promises?

2. In case you have been living under a rock, you may not yet know that Kate Middleton is PREGNANT! I'm so glad I could inspire her in that way. Although, I bet she looks fabulous EVERY DAY, never has roots, and gains about 5 pounds the whole time. In all honesty, I feel bad for her because the whole reason they had to announce before the magical 12 week mark was that she was admitted to the hospital with Hyperemesis Gravidarium, a very severe form of morning sickness. I have been really lucky in all 3 pregnancies that, even when I was nauseous, I never had to deal with that. So I hope she feels better soon. But darn it, I bet she can take a nap whenever she wants, and that makes me a little jelly.

3. I've set a date for the start of my new leaning out/working out/contest prep-like program, and it's July 1. I figure it's about 6 weeks after the baby comes, and it's a Monday (I just like starting new programs on Mondays). I would love to compete in bikini or figure, but that ****'s expensive... and I'll have 3 kids to support and the student loans of a doctor without the ph.d., so I think I'll just pretend I'm prepping for a contest, and get someone to take my picture in a bikini.

4. My baby is due in 161 days. #Tydb

Week 16: I had fun running once...

Who would have thought that, 16 weeks pregnant, I would rediscover a love affair with my ex, Running. Well, to be honest, I think removing some of the high expectations I put on myself when I was running regularly has helped. I'm doing a 0-5K plan and allowing myself to repeat as many weeks as I feel like... but I'm enjoying it, and really think I can keep doing it until the end (although I'm sure it makes people uncomfortable to see a pregnant woman running. Too bad.)

Yesterday when I dropped my son off at school, I picked him up. His teacher was horrified and said, "You need to be careful in your condition." I tried to explain that I am hardly a delicate flower, but I just gave up and laughed about it later when I squatted 65 pounds (which is lower than I used to. I mean, I'm cutting back. I'm a delicate flower, remember?)

I did pretty well with eating and I even lost a few pounds according to the scale at the gym, putting my total weight gain so far at 16 pounds (Yay! A pound a week!) But last night, I had a complete out of control stress induced binge. It was awful. My kids were stressing me out. I knew they were stressing me out. I just went with it and stuffed food in my face. Then, I kept waking up during the night feeling guilty. Yuck. So today, I'm working on doing better.

Tard the Grumpy Cat is my soul mate these days. I am the grumpiest pregnant woman ever, so I just can't get enough.

Anyway, I'm running, I'm tracking WW (like) points ("Poor Girl's Weight Watchers"). I'm lifting weights. I'm parenting. I have headaches. Surely the time between now and the birth of 3.0 will just fly by, right? And hopefully by then I will have figured out how to fit 3 carseats in my P.T. Cruiser.

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Thanksgiving 2012: The Day I Do Something (Kind Of) Crafty

When I was pregnant with my son and had fantasies about what parenting would be like, I imagined doing cute crafts and projects with my kids and being the best mother ever. I had no idea how challenging it would be, and I kind of forgot how bad I was at anything artistic or creative.
(I also tried to learn how to knit during this time, which was hilarious).

Anyway, a few days ago my son saw a picture of some Christmas truffles on the cover of All You magazine (which I subscribe to but rarely read... all part of my fantasy about how crafty I'll be one day). He has been begging for days to make "Christmas Cookies". So I got the stuff at the store Wednesday to make "My version" of Christmas cookies (because I forgot to bring the recipe).

Magically, they turned out pretty cute:

See? Kind of crafty..

Look how happy he is!

However, there was extra batter, so I made some mini-muffins and one miniature cake. Then on Thursday, I ate them for breakfast. Then I had several of these cupcakes. So, by the time we got to Thanksgiving dinner, I had exceeded my calories for the week, I think.

I also have had ZERO success working out at home since Wednesday. No workout Wednesday (but my husband and I went to see "Skyfall". Which made me want to work out and be prettier.) No workout Thursday.

So, let's try for Friday. It's going to involve help from my husband in herding the children away from me for about an hour. We'll see how that goes. Also, I figured since we moved into this house on August 13 and today is November 23, maybe it's time to finally finish unpacking. Maybe. I have lofty goals for today.

Week 15: Oh look. Only 175 days to go.

So we've hit week 15. It's finally getting a little less embarrassing when people notice my belly. It's not just fat, bloating, or gas.  It's my humongous uterus. My uterus that has pretty much given up, like a balloon that has already been blown up twice.

I have been in a rut. I've talked about it. I've shared. There are things going on. But, I'm determined to get control over my life. And, I must admit, Fat Betty Francis helped a little.

In the episode "Dark Shadows", we see that Betty has joined Weight Watchers. However, she's still kind of a terrible person. But she seems to be getting a hold of herself. She has a run in with her ex husband's current, young, skinny wife, and then goes home and shoots whipped cream in her mouth. BUT, here's the thing- she spits it out AND rinses out her mouth. I was so proud of her at that moment. I've been there (I don't usually spit it out though. I get caught up in the moment and then feel nauseous regret later. So, good for her!)

Of course, she's still using her children to manipulate and do all kinds of mean things, but the point is: She is struggling with using food as a crutch, and she's winning. Maybe I can too..


I made a decision that I'm going to follow a variation of Weight Watchers. This is not a weight loss plan. This is a "everything in moderation no crazy pregnant candy or cookie binges" plan. When I last did weight watchers, my points were at 22. So, I've set them at 32 (I did some research on this). Now, imagine my shock when I discovered that my current favorite, peanut butter and jelly sandwiches are a whopping 6 points, and a tall salted caramel mocha is 5 points... It was a wake up call. So, I feel good about this decision, logging my food but not being too restrictive.

I will always love you.

Plus, I'm changing my workout goals. I didn't workout again all weekend. It's really hard with my kids around, and I have to admit, I didn't have the motivation to go through the struggle. But I managed to get up this morning and do a 30 minute Turbofire workout. I realize at this point, I'm not going to have abs, or my beautiful toned arms of which I was so proud... but you know what? I'm in a much better mood when I workout. So EVERYONE WINS.

I'm also going to lift Monday, Wednesday and Friday. Hopefully it will be a bit easier since it's a holiday weekend. Even if a normally 45 minute workout takes me 2 hours because SOMEONE wants milk and SOMEONE pooped on the floor... it's better than nothing, right?

I have no idea what you're talking about.

Anyway, here's me at the gym today.

Week 15. Pssh. I got this.

The Test Results....

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So I finally got the call about the test results. Actually, I called them and asked for them to call me back. I was really REALLY tired of waiting. Did I mention I was tired of waiting?

Anyway, the nurse called me back and told me they had not gotten the results yet so she called and they sent them. So I guess it pays to be annoying.

She said the baby tested NEGATIVE for all Trisomies, which is EXCELLENT. That was the part that worried me the most.

I said, "Can you tell me the gender?"

She said, "Okay, you want to know? It's here..."

"Yes, I want to know!"

"Okay... y chromosome.... It's a boy!"

Yay! So I text my husband, and all the family, then post on Facebook....

About 10 minutes later, she calls back:

"Sarah, I read it wrong. It's actually a GIRL!"

After I laughed a lot and asked her to double and triple check, I was satisfied that yes, it's a girl.

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Week 14 and I have an "I don't care"/Fat Betty Francis problem...

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Okay, so there are some things I *do* care about. What happens on Once Upon a Time. The current Phillipa Gregory book I'm reading. Money. Budgeting. Paying bills.

But right now at the top of the list of "Things I don't care about": Fitness.

I was sick this week. Not just "pregnant" sick, but I'm sure that contributed. I took Thursday off sick. I had Friday off anyway and spent most of the day in bed. The last time I worked out was Wednesday, November 7.

I did well working out on Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday. But here's the thing: I finish my workout and I think, "What's the point? I'm not going to see any progress. I'm not going to get stronger. I'm not going to lose weight. Who cares?"

I couldn't even motivate myself to do an "endorphin raising" workout like Turbofire. It's sad.

And the eating. I'm not gorging myself on Cheez Its anymore, but I have had a couple of bad nights with some leftover Halloween candy. And also one of the only things I want to eat are peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.




It's always peanut butter jelly time in my world.

To be honest, I think there may be some depression involved. I'm waiting for test results STILL and it's driving me a little crazy. I'm concerned about how I'm going to parent 3 kids. I don't even think I can fit 3 car seats in my PT Cruiser. And I'm in that weird stage where I keep forgetting I'm pregnant. I'm not sick anymore, but I can't feel the baby. Can't forget that I'm fat, however. That reminder is always there. However, it's just not enough to make me care too much. I just stare at myself in the mirror and cry a little.

When I came here in August and started a new job, I didn't think I would be sick for 5 weeks.  I'm thankful I'm not nauseous anymore, but I still feel like I'm not doing enough.

So, I'm eating badly and completely aware that it's probably due to stress and emotion. I'm drinking my allowed TWO Via a day. And I don't know what I'm going to do about the workouts. I'm thinking I may just do whatever's fun for a week. Whatever feels like fun at the time, just to get my mood up.

Last night I watched the episode of Mad Men (Spoiler if you haven't seen Season 5) where Betty Draper Francis realizes she is  fat. And at the end of the episode, she eats a Sundae, and then finishes her daughter's Sundae as well. I totally get this. I'm in that stage of "Well, I want to change, but what's the point?"

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Not sure what I'm going to do about all this, but I'm just putting it out there. I feel silly having a page called "Sarah Fitness" when I can't even keep myself motivated.

I'm comforted by the fact that I was able to lose the weight and get into the "best shape of my life" twice after giving birth, so hopefully I'll be able to do it again. But for now, I don't know......

Week 13: Waiting is The Suck

So, I'm still feeling a lot less nauseous, and for that I am extremely grateful. In fact, I've made multiple promises to people who probably don't care that I will NEVER AGAIN take feeling NOT nauseous for granted. (If I had to diagram that sentence, it would be horrible).

I went to my 12 week appointment last Wednesday (on Halloween), and was given my choice of prenatal tests:

The standard Nuchal Translucency scan, which involves a sonogram and a blood test. It's a screening, so it would just tell me my chances that something might be up with the baby (Downs or other Trisomies). If that were the case, I would have to have more invasive testing, like an amnio or something equally horrible I imagine.

or

MaterniT21 test: This test involves them taking blood (lots of blood, as it turns out) and doing the analysis from that. From what my doctor said, though, it is NOT just a screen, it is actually a diagnostic test. Also, it can tell you gender, and I'm the kind of person who can't wait at ALL so I want to find that out as soon as possible.

I chose the MaterniT21. And now, I have to wait "about a week". Wow. Waiting is the suck. Yes, I'm curious about the gender, but of course, I'm *really* wondering about the other issues. Even when I get the results, I suppose there could be things going on with the baby that we won't know about until the anatomy scan, some time around 20 weeks.

So I wait. While waiting, I'm trying to keep my mind off of the fact that I'm waiting. That's working out about as well as you might think.

In other news, I'm doing Body Beast workouts for weights, and running. Yes, running. Something strange happened: I started to like running again. Pregnant. I mean, really? Anyway, no pressure. I'm running with walk breaks, usually only about 2 miles. It's just enough to calm my nerves and hopefully slow down the colossal weight gain (I've gained almost 20 pounds in 2 months).

And here's a Week 13 picture:

My uterus has already given up.

Oh hai, Week 12.

Oh, Week 12. For the love of David Boreanaz, it's about time you showed up.

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Here's how things are looking as we start Week 12:

 

Last week, the nausea was pretty bad. It was also exhausting. I went home early on Wednesday, and struggled through Thursday and Friday. But, over the weekend, it wasn't so bad. The only time I started to feel sick was when I went too long without eating. We visited a new church on Sunday, and when church was over, everyone in the whole world wanted to talk to us, and all I was thinking was, "I need to get to the snacks. For the love of DB, let me go eat something."

I have my next doctor's appointment tomorrow, and we'll be doing some testing. Apparently, there is a new test that just involves a sonogram and drawing blood, but it's as effective as the more invasive tests. Yes, sign me up for that. I'm also kind of hoping they can tell me the gender, but since this is a new test, I haven't been able to find out for sure (even using my mad research skills).

Workout wise, I've been kind of enjoying running again. Well, run/walk-ing. I need to get some kind of support because I'm already having stretchy round ligament pain after I bounce around.... this has resulted in my holding my belly on the treadmill at the gym, which may look stupid. (It's good that I don't care about those things, then.)

I've also been doing Les Mills Pump and Turbofire. Mainly, I just need something that's fun. Pump may not get me the humongous muscles I love, but it's SOMETHING, and will keep me going for a while.

Okay, now I'm just starting to ramble. Here are the basics:

- Not nauseous so much

- Working out daily

- Not at all nervous or afraid of genetic testing.

- David Boreanaz. Duh.

Have a great Monday folks...

Week 11: Still pregnant. Still a bit punchy

Something funny happened to me over the weekend. I started to feel better.

Well, let me correct myself.... Saturday I did NOT feel great, but there were a number of factors involved:

- I was unable to pry myself out of bed to workout (or do much of anything) before the kids woke up, so I woke up frazzled with their demands starting before I even went to the bathroom...

- My husband was playing at an outdoor Jazz fest and wanted me to bring the kids... so I got them ready (which is always a special experience) and carried them there, parked in an odd place, walked a really long way, then tried to get them to sit still for an hour. In the Texas heat.

- I felt like I was going to throw up pretty much the entire time, and I also needed to pee, but couldn't figure out a way to get all three of us into a port-o-potty, so I just did my best to ignore it.

After my husband's set was over, we agreed to go to a restaurant. My hunger/fatigue/nausea/bladder issues led me to dive into the bread and butter offered to us (once I had gone to the bathroom, of course). I also had bacon cheese burger. And it was really good.

After this, everyone had to have a shower. I couldn't believe some of the sticky stuff on my two year old. It's probably better that I didn't know what it was. But then we laid down for a nap. I was pretty miserable at this point (so hot, so tired...)

Then for dinner, I made frozen banana ice cream :-) I figured that made up for the burger. At least a little.

Sunday, however, I woke up feeling great. I was motivated to clean. I got to the things on my to-do list. I cleaned the garbage out of my car. I cleaned the heck out of the hall bathroom. I threw away 2 garbage bags full of paper. I read some of my book. It was a miracle.

I also noticed that my belly didn't feel as huge as it had been. It wasn't hard like it was the past few weeks. The only thing I can think of is maybe some of the awful pregnant bloaty-ness has gone away.

But today (Monday) it continued (for the most part). I did have some episodes of nausea, but for the most part I had energy and was able to function without feeling like my mind was in a cloud.

So, I'm hoping it will be like this for a while. I'm hoping to get back on track with nutrition and slow down some of the weight gain. In fact, today I weighed at the gym, and I have lost 2 pounds! Now I weigh in at 148. Much more reasonable, right?

Anyway, here are some Week 11 pics:

The belly hasn't grown too much, and I still have delts so WIN.

Also, ignore the look on my face, because I swear I saw a vein.

Here Comes Week 10...

So I figured, Week 10 is starting, and I'll go ahead and do a weekly documentation of all the exciting details of trying to stay in shape and grow a person at the same time.

10 weeks. The baby is the size of a grape. Why is my stomach so big?

And from the front you can really see how my hips are expanding in preparation for childbirth

I'm in this fun stage where I just look fat, not pregnant. Of course, the fact that I have eaten terribly for a month surely has something to do with it.

However, as I predicted, I started to feel a bit better the past few days. I had a terrible sick headache that started Friday night and lasted into Saturday, but by Sunday, I woke up feeling lots better. I didn't crave crap (as much), and felt like I had a little more control over what I ate (as opposed to the overwhelming urge to consume EVERYTHING lest I vomit for the past few weeks).

Workout wise, though, I have no motivation to do CrossFit. Part of it is that it's easier to workout at home rather than leave the house by 4:45 am. Part of it is the dread factor. I just want to do the stuff I like. Or as my 5 year old says, "I just want what I want!"

I just don't feel like pushing myself until I feel like I'm going to pass out. So I'm not sure what I'm going to do about that. To be honest, as I look at the budget for the next 7 months and I think, "What can I cut back on?" and add that to "I just don't feel like doing CrossFit pregnant"... well, there's some money I could save. However, I've paid through November 5, so there's the need to get my money's worth until then. That and, oh yeah, I don't like to be a "quitter". Oh the drama.

What I *do* enjoy right now: Turbofire, Lifting, Yoga. And eating. Wait, that's not a workout.

So. 10 weeks down (pretty much). 30 to go. It's going to be a while.

And God laughed....

I have been a little quiet lately. Hopefully someone noticed. It would be a little sad if I came in and said, "I'm sorry I've been so quiet" and everyone went, "Wait? You were gone? I had no idea..."



Anyway, life has thrown me a little bit of a curve ball.

Remember how this summer I was in absolutely great shape. I actually would venture to say I was in the "Best Shape of My Life" (and I think I did, which was one way to tempt fate a little).

"I am in the best shape of my life! Look at the delt veins!"

"Woohoo! I'm looking good!"

Then I started the Whole30 and CrossFit. I was on top of the world. New job, new town, new way of eating, new workouts....

Well, I got a little surprise....

Apparently, God thought it was hilarious how I had everything planned out. It was especially hilarious how we gave away EVERYTHING that had anything to do with babies when we moved from Tennessee to Texas this summer.

Source

I don't want to make a huge big announcement. It took me a little while to get used to the fact that my body was going to basically belong to someone else for nine months again, and that I will be a mother to THREE children. But, I do feel like it explains some of my lack of posting.

Here are some of the things that have been going on:
- Nausea. I'm not one of those ladies who loses 10 pounds in the first trimester. I get the kind of nausea that only eating crap can fix. So I've been eating crap for a month, and have gained 10 pounds.
- Tired. I can't believe I'm about to say it, but I have absolutely no interest in working out. None. I gave it a good effort for a while, but for the past 2 weeks or so, I'm really having to push it. If it comes to a choice between sleeping and working out, I'm sleeping.

So my new  goals are:
- Survive until May 13-ish, and then probably never sleep again.
- Gain less than 40 pounds.
- Get back to a more regular workout schedule sometime in the next few weeks.
- Keep going to CrossFit twice a week
- Get that diet under control once the nausea stops demanding I eat CheezIts all the time.

Every pregnancy I try to do a little better. So, maybe this will be the one where I finally get it perfect, right?

(*I should add that once I got over the initial shock, in all seriousness, I am quite happy. Every baby is a blessing, even the ones who were the surprise of your life...)