The first time I was kicked from within, I was lying on my back (when it was still safe to) and had my hand just resting down near where many moons ago my appendix was ripped out of me...ever so lovingly. (And for 7,000!) I was trying to convince myself I ought to get out of bed when I felt a sharp thump against my hand.
I froze.
Had she just kicked me?
I waited a moment for it to happen again, but I didn't feel anything. But, I knew it was a kick. My baby had kicked me for the first time.
Later that day, I put my hand back down in the area and waited for her to do a repeat performance. It took hours, but I finally felt little jabs of her tiny foot. (Or fist, but I think it was a foot.)
Pilot Boy couldn't feel anything. He thought I was making up.
As the weeks went on, the movements got stronger and more pronounced. There were also clear kicks, head-butts, and just random movements (like rolls or something). Basically, I spent a lot of time with my hand down my pants just to feel my kid move around.
Finally, shortly before the winter holidays, Pilot Boy felt his daughter move. It was a bit movement. It felt like an earthquake going on in my uterus and I said, "You've had to have felt that one."
"Yep."
And that is when the kicks stopped and the earthquakes really began. Seriously. Sometimes they are concentrated earthquakes-- like in the area where my former appendix lived till it decided it hated me and moved out. It moved on to green pastures seven years ago, yet when my daughter decides to beat up on it, it hurts. Her other favorite thing to do is stomp on my bladder. Or one night, she decided to do headstands or something on my poor bladder. I spent the entire night thinking I had to pee, but I really didn't. I just had a baby on my bladder.
Rumblings tend to happen at night, like when I'm trying to go to bed. Since I hit week 25, the little quakes have been happening more often. I'll be sitting around during the day and suddenly the book, laptop, phone, Kindle will just go tumbling over from where I had it perched because my kid decided she didn't like it there. Or my arm jerks.
"What the hell was that for?" Pilot Boy asked when I accidentally elbowed him this weekend in the side whilst we sat on the couch reading.
"Your daughter wishes you to know my pain," was my reply.
He didn't buy it.
Sometimes all this movement (which is a good thing, as she's old enough now she ought to be moving and shaking and channeling a soccer player) is fine with me, while other times I just wish she'd kick me in the stomach. Or the spleen. Or somewhere other than my bladder or my former appendix. I've no clue what it is about the scar tissue hanging out there, but man...each time she hits that spot it feels almost as bad as when I made the mistake of going bowling two weeks after I had it removed. Or when I went bowling three months after it left me for some jar. (Or whatever they do with infected appendixes.) Or when I went bowling almost two years after it was cut out of me.
I shouldn't go bowling. I tend to hurt myself in the area where the appendix used to live.
I also shouldn't be pregnant as my kid loves to kick me there and it's freaking annoying. It's either a sharp paint or a dull pain, depending on how much oomph she puts into her movement.
I've yet to see anything, like a foot or hand poking out. I've yet to see anything really as when I'm paying attention and staring at my bare belly, she decides to do all her moving towards my spin or something. I do know it moves, though, the belly. My shirts sometimes ripple during earthquakes.
She is kicking me down. Just little jabs right behind my belly button.
I like it best when I do catch her out and get to feel her little foot as it rams itself into my innards. There is just something completely mind blowing about the whole thing--you know feeling it inside and on your hand and knowing it's a little foot and some day there will be a little human outside who will kick you in the face with the same foot. (And not on purpose. It'll just likely happen. Most likely whilst changing a nappy.)
21 January 2014
16 January 2014
I Heart Water
We went away for two weeks.
Now, since we've owned this house, we've not left it alone for more than hours at a time. I did not honestly think we had to sit around looking after the house, as it's a house. We've lived in a house before and left it for extended periods. It was always perfectly fine when we returned home.
Of course, this one wasn't okay.
Yeah, it looked fine. Everything was where we'd left it and from the outside it appeared to be perfectly normal.
It felt good to be back, out of the car, and not going anywhere anytime soon. The whole upheaval of the holidays was over. Brilliant!
I went to get the dog some water, as she hadn't had any in quite awhile.
I turned the tap and nothing happened.
"Did you turn the water off?" I called out to Pilot Boy.
"No. Why would I do that?"
"I don't know. It doesn't work," I replied, moving the tap up and down some more.
Nothing happened.
Seriously. Nothing.
It is winter. Since it got "cold" we've seen signs telling people to leave their taps dripping, which to us former residents of Alaska sounded idiotic. It doesn't get that cold here.
And it DID NOT get THAT cold here while we were gone. Sure, they had some winter weather, but it wasn't THAT cold. And our house is NEW(ish).
Pilot Boy didn't think the pipes were frozen (it was 60 degrees), so he called the water company. I payed the bill (and the new bill I had in my hand claimed I did as well). But, he called them and asked if they'd turned it off.
Nope. Our pipes must be frozen.
It was sixty freaking degrees out. And the day before it'd been forty. Why are our pipes frozen?
Pilot Boy went about calling plumbers and "thawing" the pipes.
Nothing happened. At least unlike the a/c guys, the plumbers all ANSWERED their phones. They couldn't show up that day but they ANSWERED.
Pilot Boy at some point talked to this guy he knows down the street who'd been around and he told him it'd been warm throughout the entire time we'd been gone. (Except the day we left, of course.) Basically, our pipes shouldn't have been frozen.
(I lived in Alaska for three years. It actually GETS cold there. Our pipes never froze. And we left in the dead of winter quite a few times during those three years and never came home to frozen pipes.)
Let me tell you something: it sucks not having water. You do not realize how much you use water until you don't have any. Yeah, our toilets flushed and you could get two flushes out of them before they needed to be reloaded and yeah, we went out and bought drinking water, but you can't do dishes, you have to carry around water to wash your hands, and you cannot bathe. (Well, we could if we went to the gym or the neighbor's house, but still. I'm pregnant. I don't want to shower in a stranger's home or a gym.)
Luckily, the plumber showed up the next afternoon. He was confused when he was told we have frozen pipes and no water pressure.
"It's been warm," he informed me.
"I know," I said.
He went to investigate at the water thingy in the front yard and discovered it was turned off.
"Did you call the city?"
"Yes. They said they didn't turn our water off."
"Someone turned your water off."
I could only shrug.
He turned the water on, then turned it off.
During his quest to find the water thingy (you know, the thing that turns water to the house on and off), Pilot Boy had done something to cause the sprinkler system thing (I've no idea what it is but it's for the sprinkler system) to spout water off straight into the air next to the house. The plumber had no clue how to fix it, as he'd never seen anything like it before. He suggested in the spring we call the company that installed it and have them look at it. Or they (the plumbing company he worked for) could look at it. He did shut it off, cutting off the water supply to the sprinkler system.
Then he turned our water back on and oh, how it was lovely to have water again. (After I spent an hour running water through the pipes and getting all the stale water out or whatever my dad said I ought to do. I had no clue, but it made sense at the time.)
Moral of the story?
Someone turned our water off. Our pipes were not frozen, our water was off. Thanks city. You're really on top of things.
Now, since we've owned this house, we've not left it alone for more than hours at a time. I did not honestly think we had to sit around looking after the house, as it's a house. We've lived in a house before and left it for extended periods. It was always perfectly fine when we returned home.
Of course, this one wasn't okay.
Yeah, it looked fine. Everything was where we'd left it and from the outside it appeared to be perfectly normal.
It felt good to be back, out of the car, and not going anywhere anytime soon. The whole upheaval of the holidays was over. Brilliant!
I went to get the dog some water, as she hadn't had any in quite awhile.
I turned the tap and nothing happened.
"Did you turn the water off?" I called out to Pilot Boy.
"No. Why would I do that?"
"I don't know. It doesn't work," I replied, moving the tap up and down some more.
Nothing happened.
Seriously. Nothing.
It is winter. Since it got "cold" we've seen signs telling people to leave their taps dripping, which to us former residents of Alaska sounded idiotic. It doesn't get that cold here.
And it DID NOT get THAT cold here while we were gone. Sure, they had some winter weather, but it wasn't THAT cold. And our house is NEW(ish).
Pilot Boy didn't think the pipes were frozen (it was 60 degrees), so he called the water company. I payed the bill (and the new bill I had in my hand claimed I did as well). But, he called them and asked if they'd turned it off.
Nope. Our pipes must be frozen.
It was sixty freaking degrees out. And the day before it'd been forty. Why are our pipes frozen?
Pilot Boy went about calling plumbers and "thawing" the pipes.
Nothing happened. At least unlike the a/c guys, the plumbers all ANSWERED their phones. They couldn't show up that day but they ANSWERED.
Pilot Boy at some point talked to this guy he knows down the street who'd been around and he told him it'd been warm throughout the entire time we'd been gone. (Except the day we left, of course.) Basically, our pipes shouldn't have been frozen.
(I lived in Alaska for three years. It actually GETS cold there. Our pipes never froze. And we left in the dead of winter quite a few times during those three years and never came home to frozen pipes.)
Let me tell you something: it sucks not having water. You do not realize how much you use water until you don't have any. Yeah, our toilets flushed and you could get two flushes out of them before they needed to be reloaded and yeah, we went out and bought drinking water, but you can't do dishes, you have to carry around water to wash your hands, and you cannot bathe. (Well, we could if we went to the gym or the neighbor's house, but still. I'm pregnant. I don't want to shower in a stranger's home or a gym.)
Luckily, the plumber showed up the next afternoon. He was confused when he was told we have frozen pipes and no water pressure.
"It's been warm," he informed me.
"I know," I said.
He went to investigate at the water thingy in the front yard and discovered it was turned off.
"Did you call the city?"
"Yes. They said they didn't turn our water off."
"Someone turned your water off."
I could only shrug.
He turned the water on, then turned it off.
During his quest to find the water thingy (you know, the thing that turns water to the house on and off), Pilot Boy had done something to cause the sprinkler system thing (I've no idea what it is but it's for the sprinkler system) to spout water off straight into the air next to the house. The plumber had no clue how to fix it, as he'd never seen anything like it before. He suggested in the spring we call the company that installed it and have them look at it. Or they (the plumbing company he worked for) could look at it. He did shut it off, cutting off the water supply to the sprinkler system.
Then he turned our water back on and oh, how it was lovely to have water again. (After I spent an hour running water through the pipes and getting all the stale water out or whatever my dad said I ought to do. I had no clue, but it made sense at the time.)
Moral of the story?
Someone turned our water off. Our pipes were not frozen, our water was off. Thanks city. You're really on top of things.
15 January 2014
This Is Mostly About Clothes
So, I'm pregnant. You know, knocked up, preggers, with child, blooming, glowing, kind of round...that thing women of a certain age tend to do.
I don't know why anyone gets pregnant.
Okay, I do know why people do. They want the baby you get at the end. At least that is why I got pregnant. I've heard some people ENJOY being pregnant.
I hate being pregnant. It's like having a never ending period, only no bleeding. You get the cramps, the headaches, the upset tummy, and on top of all that you loose your waist. And there is this tiny being inside who decides it'd be a great idea to do headstands on your bladder all night long. (I swear to god that was what she was doing last night as I had to pee all night long.)
I spent the past six months feeling completely rotten, throwing up, and not looking pregnant.
Yeah, that sucked.
I only began to look pregnant about two weeks ago. And I'm six months pregnant. I didn't even really start gaining wait till about three weeks ago. Yeah, you think I'm lucky. I might not have been gaining weight, but I was loosing my hips and waist. One doesn't realize how vital hips and waists are for holding up pants until you don't have them. I couldn't wear my maternity bottoms because it was all too big (I had no bump), nor could I wear my old stuff because it didn't stay up. Yeah, I could button my jeans, I could wear my skirts without an extender (till about last week), but they didn't stay up. Just like all the new maternity pants I'd gotten.
I still only have ONE pair of maternity jeans that kind of fit. They are still uncomfortable. I do, though, like the whole pull up concept going on with maternity jeans, but I do not like the whole...panel up over my stomach thing as I am always hot and it itches. I don't know why it itches, but it does. And it never stays up. It is dumb. I've got pairs that are "under belly" and I like those, only two pairs are way too big and don't even stay up, while the other one claimed to have a 32 inch inseam, but they don't. I took them down, but they still are too short. And I'm not tall.
It's been hit or miss with shirts. The maternity tops I got from The Gap...they are all made for third trimester bellies. Or something. They are HUGE in the belly area. They still look baggy on me. The tops I've picked up from Ross...not sure other than the ruching on the sides how they are maternity tops. But hey, they're only five bucks. I've gotten tops from lots of places and they all claim to be wearable through all stages, yet quite a few of them I can't really wear yet because my belly isn't large enough and I look like I'm swimming in the top...on the bottom. While I don't think my boobs are huge, they are (hence why I can't really wear my pre-pregnancy tops. My stupid boobs don't fit).
The most success I've had with anything maternity is in dresses. They fit me like dresses from before I got knocked up. And I've gotten them from ASOS. The best tops I got were from there as well.
So, besides being unable to clothe myself, the never ending nausea, the random throwing up, having no energy, loosing my waist and hips, and having a tiny being inside of me who likes to kick and do headstands on my bladder-- it's been great.
I don't know why anyone gets pregnant.
Okay, I do know why people do. They want the baby you get at the end. At least that is why I got pregnant. I've heard some people ENJOY being pregnant.
I hate being pregnant. It's like having a never ending period, only no bleeding. You get the cramps, the headaches, the upset tummy, and on top of all that you loose your waist. And there is this tiny being inside who decides it'd be a great idea to do headstands on your bladder all night long. (I swear to god that was what she was doing last night as I had to pee all night long.)
I spent the past six months feeling completely rotten, throwing up, and not looking pregnant.
Yeah, that sucked.
I only began to look pregnant about two weeks ago. And I'm six months pregnant. I didn't even really start gaining wait till about three weeks ago. Yeah, you think I'm lucky. I might not have been gaining weight, but I was loosing my hips and waist. One doesn't realize how vital hips and waists are for holding up pants until you don't have them. I couldn't wear my maternity bottoms because it was all too big (I had no bump), nor could I wear my old stuff because it didn't stay up. Yeah, I could button my jeans, I could wear my skirts without an extender (till about last week), but they didn't stay up. Just like all the new maternity pants I'd gotten.
I still only have ONE pair of maternity jeans that kind of fit. They are still uncomfortable. I do, though, like the whole pull up concept going on with maternity jeans, but I do not like the whole...panel up over my stomach thing as I am always hot and it itches. I don't know why it itches, but it does. And it never stays up. It is dumb. I've got pairs that are "under belly" and I like those, only two pairs are way too big and don't even stay up, while the other one claimed to have a 32 inch inseam, but they don't. I took them down, but they still are too short. And I'm not tall.
It's been hit or miss with shirts. The maternity tops I got from The Gap...they are all made for third trimester bellies. Or something. They are HUGE in the belly area. They still look baggy on me. The tops I've picked up from Ross...not sure other than the ruching on the sides how they are maternity tops. But hey, they're only five bucks. I've gotten tops from lots of places and they all claim to be wearable through all stages, yet quite a few of them I can't really wear yet because my belly isn't large enough and I look like I'm swimming in the top...on the bottom. While I don't think my boobs are huge, they are (hence why I can't really wear my pre-pregnancy tops. My stupid boobs don't fit).
The most success I've had with anything maternity is in dresses. They fit me like dresses from before I got knocked up. And I've gotten them from ASOS. The best tops I got were from there as well.
So, besides being unable to clothe myself, the never ending nausea, the random throwing up, having no energy, loosing my waist and hips, and having a tiny being inside of me who likes to kick and do headstands on my bladder-- it's been great.
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