A-Cute Craving

One of the most common things I’ve been asked while pregnant has been about cravings.

“Any weird cravings?”

“You wanted anything unusual to eat?”

Or,

“Any aversions to anything?”

I don’t mind these questions myself because they were always my own go-to questions when I would encounter a pregnant woman.  And to be honest, it IS interesting to think that there are odd flavor combinations that you would suddenly, out of nowhere, kill for.

If I could sum up my cravings, I would simply say “junk”.  I have eaten so many chips, pretzels, and crackers with sugary sodas and juices.  I have wanted birthday cake, cupcakes, snack cakes, pancakes, icing, ice cream, cream pies, and brownies.  I could polish off two different dinners without much trouble.  It’s disgusting; at least, it would be for the non-expectant person.

Now I was never 100% health conscious before I got pregnant, but I was able to keep my junk food in check.  Have a brownie but drink it with milk or water, I'd tell myself, or drink the soda but have no other sweets.  And make sure to jog extra long to make up for it.

The fact that I wanted Spaghettios and onion rings one day about nine months ago, two things that I don’t even like, I figured I needed to buy a pregnancy test.

And then weeks later, when I was given the good news and free range to eat whatever I wanted (so long as it didn’t violate the pregnancy list of no-no’s and I made sure to keep it balanced with actually healthy things) I got a craving for something I hadn’t had since I was in middle school- pizza topped with French fries.  And it had to be the wide, steak fry variety.  For some reason, the mix of hearty potato and crispy coating amidst gooey cheese and tomato sauce brought me back to pizza parties at the local pizzeria in our town.  God love Joe for trying to recreate it for me with the pizza place near us.  It wasn’t exactly the same, but close enough.

After that, my cravings pretty much stayed on anything deep-fried, smothered in cheese, or covered in chocolate.  No other weird cravings hit.

Until tonight.

Joe and I were texting back and forth about what to do for dinner tonight, a common volley of suggestions and vetoes.  As it was back to my turn to launch a suggestion, I tried to search my Rolodex of food items to see what hit on a craving button.  I looked down at my swollen ankles and doughy feet as I contemplated.

“God, I don’t know what I want to eat but I am going home and flinging these feet up in the air to get the fluid down.  So whatever I have for dinner will have to be handheld,” I thought as I wiggled my feet in midair to loosen the swelling. 

It was then that two foods began to emerge through my clouded mind.  Pizza.  Specifically, I wanted pizza from Oceanport Pizza, the pizzeria in the next town over from my hometown.  I could probably count on both hands the number of times I’ve eaten there, and the last time was probably over a decade ago.  But there it was, fresh on my mind and tongue.  Because it was just slightly unreasonable to expect Joe to fly a pie in from Jersey by tonight, and because we JUST had pizza the night before, I let my mind settle on something other than pizza. 

So what was the second craving?  Something crispy and cheesy as well.  A quesadilla!  It fit the bill: something hand-held, and something…triangular.  Why triangular?  I thought about it for a second and reasoned I wanted something that I could easily bite into even while laying on my back.  

Joe was waiting for my suggestion and without thinking I just texted back.

“I want something triangular.”

I didn’t get a response until I got home.

“Triangular, huh?” Joe asked, bemused.

I tried to explain my logic and reasoning, but instead he just smirked and picked up his phone to post about my odd request on Facebook.  Then we set to decide on what “triangular” food we should get.  In the end, quesadillas won the night and I happily feasted on my cheesy triangles.

Who says cravings have to be based on flavor?  Cravings can take any form…even triangular ones.

Soooo how about you?  Any weird cravings??

1 Month

1 Month.

4 Weeks.

30 days.

And if my math is correct, 720 hours.

That’s it.  That is how much time I have left before this human being that has been encased by my skin and organs, that has only existed in pops and bumps and heartbeats, and that has only been realized by the limits of my imagination, will go from abstract to concrete. 

Barring his insistence on coming early or late, and let’s face it, if he takes on any traits of mine, I’m sure my tardiness will be a dominant gene.

Of course, I’m excited.  I’m excited to see what features of mine he inherits, if he uses his hands a lot like Joe, or if exhibits the same habits of someone completely randomly like our siblings or grandparents.  I’m excited for the birthdays and Christmases, the bike rides, the school plays, the little league games, and all that other stuff that you typically see on a children’s vitamins commercial.

But how do I get from here, where the basic requirement is to keep this thing alive, to there?  Panicking probably doesn’t help, yet I can’t help it.  There still seems to be so much to do, so much I haven’t anticipated or prepared for. 

Panicking doesn’t even cover it, actually.

To give you a small glimpse into understanding why I am so freaked out, let me run down my To Do list (granted, you’ll no doubt think some of these things are unimportant or not even necessary, but they are still things on my mind).

1.) Clean baby’s room. 

Take out everything that still sits in there to bring in a heavy vacuum cleaner and dust the ceiling fan.

2.) Get crib. 

Joe’s coworker has a crib we could just have, but until we physically have it ready and in the baby’s room, it’s still going to be weighing on me.

3.) Get changing table. 

We are going to see if we can get one this Saturday at a few consignment shops, but again…until it’s here and ready to go, it’s still something to think about.

4.) Get bassinet. 

Some people swear by them while others tell me they are unnecessary.  We do need a place to put him down to sleep every night but I think I might have a solution in-house that wouldn’t require the use of a laundry basket or dresser drawer.

5.) Get organized. 

Once the furniture is purchased and assembled, I need to get the whole room organized with diapers, wipes, lotions, extra sheets and blankets, clothes, and anything else.  And speaking of clothes…

6.) Wash baby clothes. 

Not all of them, because I have no idea how big he will be at birth or even how long he will be any size.  And I’ll want to return any excess I have.  Yet, I want to make sure he has actual clothes to leave the house in, plus back-ups in case of projectile bodily fluids.

7.) Wash, well, everything.

Bottles, sheets, towels, toys and anything else that baby will physically touch.  And while we’re at it, just clean and sterilize every room in the house.

8.) Decorate baby's room.

I was so jealous as I sat in my last Prepared Childbirth class listening to all the other couples talk about their adorable themed nurseries.  I especially wanted to slap the ones that were “all done and just waiting for the baby now!”  Seriously?  These are the people that would ask for extra credit assignments.  At the end of the school day.  Right before summer vacation.

9.) Install the car seat.

Yep, still need to do that.

10.) Meet with the pediatrician.

Joe has done his part in finding a good pediatrician, but I’d still like to schedule a time to actually meet the man who’s going to be my mental stabilizer when I’m running on 45 minutes of sleep and freaking out that the baby sounds weird when he’s swallowing.

Not to mention…

Pack the hospital bag.  Download song playlists for when I’m in labor (and afterwards).  Pick out the outfit I’ll take the baby home in.  Buy a baby monitor.  Finish up my baby preparedness classes.  Look up freelance writing and other work-from-home jobs.  Prepare and freeze some meals.  Decorate the house for the holidays.  Get a pedicure.  Buy nursing pads, bras, and shirts. 

And a partridge in a freaking pear tree.

So yeah, I’ve got just a few things on my mind.  But here’s where you (yes, you reading this) can help.

Which of these things are important?  Which are not?  Which do you wish you did that you didn’t?  What were your most basic essentials when you first welcomed home that little bundle of love?  Give me some advice (and piece of mind).

The Breast is Up to You

Ok, I know my next statement is going to alienate some of you, my friends and readers, but bear with me.

Breastfeeding is gross to me.

Again, stay with me, and I promise I’ll win you au natural mother Earth-types back.

Yes, it IS natural.  But you know what?  Defecation and urination are also natural, but we are a civilized society with a place for us to perform these natural and beautiful functions.  And I love these mothers that get so offended when people are either staring or uncomfortably trying to look away, like the onlookers are the ones with the problem.  If you feel comfortable enough to whip your boob out, you go do you.  But don’t start barking at the rest of us that are pretending to be overly engrossed in a street sign or something stuck on the ground.

All that being said, let me add this.

I am planning to breastfeed.  Though I’m not looking forward to it, I do have to acknowledge all the research and doctor’s advice I’ve heard that states how breast milk is extremely beneficial for both baby and mother.  For the baby, they get all the nutrients they need to make them strong and healthy.  For moms, it helps with your health too plus it’s cheaper than formula (and I heard it helps shed those pregnancy pounds! Guess which reason makes me the most excited lol)

So, since I plan to breastfeed, I knew that I would need to order a breast pump.  My sister-in-law was kind enough to gift me hers, but I thought since I could get a free one through my insurance, it wouldn’t hurt to have a fresh back-up.

I finally took the time to call my insurance company.  This was the call I was dreading more than any other.  Fearing a long, drawn-out call filled with constant wait music and repeated transfers, I was preparing for the worst.  Surprisingly, it didn’t take too long to finally get to a representative.  When she picked up, she was all business.

“Hello, this is Rhonda, can I please have your full name, date of birth, social security number, group number, etc.”

I gave her what she needed.

“Ok, now what can I do for you today?” asked Rhonda.

I explained that I was pregnant and that I was calling to ask a few questions about what to expect with paying for the hospital stay and how much an epidural would cost.

“Oh, and I’d also like to request a breast pump,” I added.

She finished typing something before speaking again.

“Oh ok, yes we can supply with you a breast pump at no additional cost,” she said.

“Oh good!  I was hoping that would be the case.  I’m nervous enough about doing it, I was hoping the pump at least would be free,” I joked.

At this, I could hear her voice relax and become more comfortable with me. 

“Yeah, you know, it’s not so bad, but you know, it’s not for everybody.  I just had my own little girl a few months ago,” she said, her tone easy and friendly.

“Oh?” I said.

“Yeah, but I had to go onto formula because breast-feeding just wasn’t happening,” she said.  “She’d be sucking on my titties and not getting anything out of them, so this whole time I thought she was getting something but nothing was coming out of my titties.”

I chuckled and immediately liked her even more for her frankness and honesty. 

“Oh, yeah, that could be a problem.  So did you bother using a breast pump since you had to go to formula?” I asked, genuinely interested.

“Oh yeah, but make sure you request an electric one.  Because the manual one can make your hand get sore, but the electric one just sucks everything out,” she offered.

I laughed again, and after thanking her for her help, we hung up.  I don’t know why, but talking to a stranger about something that makes me so uncomfortable somehow made me…comfortable.  Like it wasn’t such a big deal, after all.  And it’s also comforting to know that if for whatever reason I can’t breastfeed, it’s ok because a lot of women struggle with it.

I’m not saying one way is the right way or the best way.  I think, like everything else, it comes down to personal choice and no one should make you feel ashamed for feeling one way or another about breastfeeding.  Whether it’s formula or the boob, as long as you and your baby are happy and healthy, that’s the most important thing.

Talk about food for thought.

And speaking of thoughts, these are just my own personal opinions about breastfeeding.  What are yours? 

Top Most Inconvenient Baby Movements

It’s funny to think that only a few weeks ago, I would be lying on my back waiting to feel that first flutter of baby movement.  I would question every pop or roll wondering if that was him or just a bad bout of indigestion.

But now that I’m a little further along, feeling him move is an everyday amazement.  In fact, he moves around so much I’ve begun to notice times I wish he would settle back down.

Here are my Top Inconvenient Times the Baby Moves:

1.) When I’m Talking/Listening

Please ignore the grimace on my face.  I am not actually horrified at your choice of outfit or a movie you recommended.  I am just busy dealing with a fetus that is kickboxing in my uterus.  It always seems to be when I’m trying to talk to someone about something that he decides its moving time, and I end up looking like a pained and disinterested listener.  But I promise you my eyes may be saying “ow”, my heart is saying “aw” or “wow” to your story.

2.) When I’m Sleeping

Sleeping has become both a blessing and a chore.  I feel tired all the time, but when it comes to actually sleeping, I find it so difficult to relax my mind and body.  Mostly because I am constantly fearful of drifting too far on my back (putting pressure on the baby) or front (REALLY putting pressure on the baby) that it takes me a good long time to find a comfortable safe position.  Add to that, the baby makes the weirdest-feeling motions at night.  So just as I’m about to finally drift off, I get a squirmy swishy feeling in my gut.  It sounds soothing, but it ends up being distracting.  Ugh.

3.) When I’m Working

My job is spent in front of a computer all day, so it’s pretty easy to let my mind wander.  I try to stay focused and on-task, but it seems anything is able to distract me, especially the baby’s movements.  I’ll be in mid-thought, trying to concentrate when all of a sudden I get such a swift kick that it knocks me right off my train of thought.  I give my belly a little comforting pat and try to get back to it, but just as I get going again, BAM!  It’s as if he knows my attention isn’t on him so he’s already pulling a temper tantrum…not sure I am looking forward to the toddler years.

4.) When No One is Around

I have a few people I know that seem to get a kick out of the baby’s kicks, especially people at work.  Whenever they come into my room and ask excitedly if the baby’s moving, more often than not he is as quiet as an angel.  But as soon as they leave, he starts a brand new floor routine.  I hold my belly as if I can keep him in this active state while I scan furiously around the room to see if anyone is nearby.  A few times I got lucky and people have gotten a chance to feel him, but most of the time, he saves his show for me.

And maybe that’s a nice thing.  Maybe I should look at these vigorous punches and rolls as a sign that he likes showing off for me.  Maybe this means he will be a little performer. 

Or he’s just already learning to test me.  I guess I’ll find out in a few short months…