We are headed to Washington, D.C. So far, so good. TSA assured me that there are no issues with the body scan machine (and that they can’t actually see the baby), I got the seat next to my co-worker (he always carries my bags), and Baby T is staying still.
On Monday, she started to “kick” hard. I was having lunch with a long, long, long-time friend (who was my triathlon training partner and room mate in the early 2000’s) when my folded arms were catapulted right off my belly. So weird and so cool. Now, I sit with my hands on my belly waiting for her to wake up. I look like a weirdo and don’t really care. S felt it last night too.
This trip is really making me anxious. It’s too long and I am not interested. We are launching a new program at a fitness conference. The conference is hosted by a company that I used to work for and I will likely see scores of people that I know. It has every chance to be fun. But, I’d rather spend all my time on S’s couch and continue to get to know him.
We are simply going for it and the pace is overwhelming. Moving in together. Letting my friends host a party for us. Spending weekends at his parents’ house.
However, for now, I need to reel it in. My job is to ride out this job. Yes, it’s 50/50 that I get the new gig (I had an awesome, live interview with the entire C-suite) but, I don’t have it yet.
This is my responsibility. It’s not bad, a no – cost long weekend in D.C. that is UBER-distance from Equinox with a roommate-free hotel room and dinner plans with my former work-husband. Plus, if the new role doesn’t work out, I need to retain my golden status as a kick-ass Director.
Blah. I’d rather be with S, I feel safe with him and I like it.
Greetings from the sofa of S's parents living room. I am allegedly researching Dry-Aging meat for a website I am writing and preparing for my 4-hour job interview on Tuesday--but--had to document the moment.
Since I agreed to move in with S, I am more and more excited every day. I'd love to accelerate it and move now. However, I can't due to work trips the next few weekends (unless I get my new job!) and am trying to be patient. We've been spending even more time together and I totally dig him. He is smart, well-spoken and knows a hell of a lot more about today's world than I do. I read headlines. He does research.
We're a good balance. My strengths are developing the physical and spiritual sides of the self while his are more cerebral and fact-based. We have a similar sense of humor and I'll admit it, I am envious of how freely he can laugh!
On Thursday, he decided he wanted to head north to snowboard--would I come? I didn't have other plans. I've fallen into assumption that we will "hang out." We drove to his parents house on Friday so that he could get an early start (they are out of town, and, it's perfect, I have to work and really need some yoga).
He took off early this morning and I used the time to take a walk, do some research and go to yoga. His mom decided to come back early to hang with me and we met for lunch apres yoga. Now, we are relaxing at her house. Me on one sofa, writing. Her on the other sofa, grading.
Three months ago, I thought this was going to be me, my girls, my gays and Baby T. Now, I have the extra support of a family. Thank god I didn't try to control this. My best case scenario would have paled in comparison to what has unfolded.
The doctor called this morning with results from the ultrasound. Well, the assistant called to relay her notes.
She said. "Everything is measuring fine. Your placenta is a little low and the doctor has put in an order for another ultrasound in 10-weeks, she wants to watch it to see if it moves up. Until then, don't lift anything heavy, don't have intercourse and don't do anything that puts pressure on your pelvis."
I heard: "Hey dumbass. Why have you been lifting weights and taking Barre class? You're pregnant and you are blowing it! Sure, she's fine. But, how is she going to get out if your placenta is blocking the exit?"
I asked her to define "heavy" and to be clear what activities were off limits including: Barre, Pilates, yoga, orgasms . . . she didn't know so called me back.
When she called back, I was told that "heavy" is 15 pounds, that yoga and orgasms were fine (partial win?) and that Pilates and Barre were out. Now, I doubt her and the information she provided. I've been teaching yoga for nearly 10 years and have been taking it for 20. Trust me, the movements in yoga are not too different from Barre or Pilates.
Down the rabbit hole we go. I scour the internet and there is no shortage of conflicting information.
What is a low-lying placenta? According to multiple sources, it simply means the placenta is near or overlapping the cervix. This is a problem because it blocks the baby's exit route and may lead to early bleeding.
If it is low-lying at week 20, it is called "placenta previa." However, in 9 out of 10 cases, the placenta moves up in time to deliver the baby vaginally.
What are the risks? From what i can find, if the placenta does not move up, a C-section is required. In rare cases (with a lot of bleeding) there are blood transfusions and even hysterectomies!
What about exercise? This one is all over the place. Some say to "do nothing" while others encourage Pilates, yoga, swimming and walking.
Now I am just confused. However, for some reason, this seems like my fault. Of the 3 likely causes (prior C-section, over 35, smoker) I only qualify for one -- and it's out of my control.
I decide to talk to some friends. Here is what I learned:
"You shouldn't even worry about where the placenta is until you are in your third trimester. Wait a month and then see where it sits."
"I was diagnosed with this too. I was told there was nothing I could do and should just be ready for a C-section."
"I had a low-lying placenta. I kept doing OTF and scaled back on hot yoga. It self-corrected by the last trimester."
I call the doctor back. I don't want to do anything that is going to harm Baby T. I also don't want to take precautions based on misinformation.
I feel better and am proud of myself for digging in to this. My number one priority is to have a healthy baby. Sure, I prefer a natural birth. But, if a C-section is in my cards, I will do it with grace.
Have you ever had "that day" where everything changes? I just did.
After a fairly routine morning that included coffee, 5-minutes of meditation and a workout, I had an interview for a new job--and it was awesome!
In July, I was aggressively looking for a new opportunity and leveraging all my contacts to earn interviews. One was promising. But, the chase slowed down as they shifted and then downgraded the role and I learned I was pregnant. I quickly lost my drive to change and committed to the job I have today -- at least through my pregnancy.
On Wednesday, I got a call from the recruiter. He had a new role and immediately thought of me. What an ego boost. He sent me the job description and I have to admit, I was excited. Not only is this role in my field, it's doing two things I love. Creating a completely new program and helping people have better lives (plus, it pays $20K more and is 50% work-from-home). He scheduled an interview with the project consultant for this morning.
The call was at 8 am. I was prepared, focused and authentic. It went really well.
Next, I "returned" my car to Volkswagon (I had a diesel that was part of the emission scandal) and paid off all my credit cards!
Then, I leased a new car at half the price of my last loan.
At 1:40, S picked me up for Baby T's ultrasound and anatomy scan. While we were waiting, I got called back to reception for not completing the forms.
"You missed a question. What is your relationship to "S"?"
I laughed. "I don't know. But, we are both here. You are welcome to fill it in however you'd like."
We are called back and I lay (lie?) down. Pants down, shirt up. Warm gel is rubbed onto my belly. The technician gets right to it. She’s very good. Efficient and patient. She gets her measurements and answers all our questions.
The procedure is a little uncomfortable. I am emotional (duh) so S leads the questions and provides the commentary while Baby T dances through my uterus.
“She’s just like her dad—camera shy!”
My heart cracks wide open as the next layer of reality floods in. We are having a baby. Me and S. Half me. Half him. I hope no one notices the shuttering of my belly as I hold back my tears. I’m not sad, just effected.
I refocus on what’s happening. We see her heart, liver, hands and feet. She weighs 13 ounces which is the right size for her age. My placenta is a little low (in position) and we will get the results of all the measurements next week.
We go back to my house so I can gather my things for the evening and show-off my new car. Fast as it is, S still beats me to his house. I don’t get it. We both have work to do (I work from home on Fridays) so choose our spots. He’s in his office. I am in the living room getting help from the hounds.
I am deep into a Power Point when he comes downstairs.
“I think we should talk about us.”
“I’ve been really anxious the last few weeks.”
He has. I noticed this and did not want to pry.
“I want to ask you to move in and don’t know how, so I am asking you now.”
What? It’s too soon. I am not ready. I am ready. Yes. No. What?
I’m not sure how long I am silent. My excitement is matched by my fear.
“Yes. Of course. I’m just not sure when.”
We wrap it up with ghetto (cooked) sushi and a few too many episodes of “The Office.” I decide to go home to process and to be sure I get some rest (I agreed to teach 4 hours of yoga on Saturday).
What a day and what a blessing that I have stopped trying to control what’s happening.
Friday will be 20 weeks and I'll be halfway through my pregnancy! I can’t believe it. Baby T is the size of a mango and she is practicing swallowing. My uterus is up to my belly button (and will keep growing a centimeter each week) and my blood volume is increasing.
Guess that’s why I am so tired My iron is always low and I was anemic for several years. More blood means I need more iron. And just like that, S texts me that he is cooking tri-tip tonight. Score.
As he cooks, I lounge with a hound and start watching “Goodfellas.” This is so out of character for me. At home, I’d be checking e-mail, doing laundry, cooking, watching TV and likely on the phone as well. The delusion of productivity is attractive. But, this feels a lot better. The dog is content. I am happy. If S thinks that I am lazy—I can’t care. I am beat.
Since Sunday, the deep, deep tiredness has come back. My energy is fine during the day but come 6/7 pm I am done. I'm following all the tips to get reprieve including reducing exercise intensity, increasing calories and trying to get more sleep. It will work. My mood has been great! I've added 5-minutes of meditation most days and it's totally helped me to be present and avoid "future tripping." I take other people's excitement with grace and embrace the uncertainty the next 4 months and 18 + years will bring.
Dinner is served. S is a great cook. We have tri-tip and salad--made with lettuces from his garden. I feel better immediately. I finish the movie while he catches up on the news (glad one of us is informed) and Baby T starts to move. He tries to feel it, but, it's at the stage where she flutters on the inside and only I can feel it. Maybe he thinks I am just getting fat (check out the evolution of my belly below).