99 More Days

I am one day shy of being completed with 26 weeks of pregnancy. Woohoo! That is a lot of weeks.

This week also brings my second trimester to a close, making me that much closer to jeans without stretchy waist bands, putting on my own socks, and sleeping without 3-hour pee-break intermissions. Oh yes, and that much closer to meeting my little blessing :)

This morning I bought myself a $10 left hand ring to be a place keeper for my real one, seeing as my fingers are little swollen sausages these days and my slightly-more-than-$10 ring is no longer an option. I don't like my hand looking naked and I don't like to look single. As if my watermelon belly wasn't evidence enough.

July marks the start of bi-monthly OB appointments. This is both annoying and great. Annoying because I have to make my way to seaside and pee in a cup twice as often. Great, because it is one more milestone indicating that I am inching my way to the finish line. My next appointment is next week. I am getting my blood glucose testing and my RhoGAM shot in one day. Lucky me. I hear great things about this orange-flavored sugar beverage. (sarcasm implied.)

As for the baby, things seem to be going really well in there. My little 14-inch, two pound eggplant-sized baby is making it's presence known more and more every day. I have noticed that s/he is most active first thing in the morning and right when I am settling down at night. My favorite part of the day as of late is laying in bed early in the morning and just watching my belly jump around. Yesterday it was grooving it up during worship at church, so naturally, I'm pretty sure it's a musician. Will and I have been singing and playing guitar quite often, so if it doesn't come out a singing Chris Tomlin, I'll be surprised. Well since that's all I have for now, here's a picture of my volleyball-sized belly:

 And here's a picture of Liam's volleyball sized head.

The F Word

Fat.

Repeat after me, I am not fat, I am growing a baby.
...Nope, still feel fat. 


We live in a word that is centralized around beauty and vanity. Since we are young girls, we play with dolls that are inhumanly thin, busty, and have perfect facial structure. Our media floods us with the idea that thin is the only beautiful, and that we should do pursue this image at any cost. When we see each other, it's not uncommon to greet with, "You look nice", which propitiates the idea that what we are on the outside is what gets us attention, success, and favor in life. Many of us shaking and moving women like to think that we are too educated and mindful to fall into such traps, and that we love our bodies just the way we are. Welp, I was one of those girls, until the body in the mirror was suddenly looking less and less like the body I had chalked up in my mind. 


I've gotten criticized for feeling this way about my looks since being pregnant. People have said, "You're PREGNANT. Don't be stupid. You aren't fat, you look great." I think to myself, oh, suddenly since we're growing a child, we're supposed to embrace our smurf-shaped waist line, jiggly arms and newly titled thunder thighs? Rationally, yes. I know in my head that growing a baby is a beautiful thing and that the changes to my body are a large part of the process. That said, it's not as easy as it seems to forsake all that we have learned about beauty for the nine-month grace period of pregnancy.

My doctor told me that I should expect to gain 25-30 pounds over the duration of the pregnancy. She said that 5-10 of those pounds should be expected within the first trimester, and then a pound a week after that. At no other time in your life are you told that you should expect to gain a pound a week and be totally kosher with the idea. I kept crossing my fingers that I would be one of those miracle women that gain exactly 7 pounds 10 ounces that come right out when that baby is born, and look like a million bucks as soon as they leave the hospital. Alas, the doctor was not wrong. At 25 weeks, I have raked in an extra 14.8 pounds (yes, those .2 pounds count, you rounder-uppers). Bless my husband's heart, he is constantly being prodded to remind me that my arms look SO SKINNY in this shirt, my booty looks perfect in these jeans, and I hardly even look pregnant from the back. Until I start walking, that is. Thanks honey.

I'm trying to if not embrace, then at least accept and respect this new body of mine. I mean, hey, I might  not look like Hiedi Klum, but I am growing a child in my uterus. That is something I can love my body for.

Belly Buttons and Other News

I have been trying to make a conscious effort to write in my blog more regularly than I have previously. Accent on the word trying, because I have been about as successful at that as I am fighting my pregnancy-induced narcolepsy. I have lots of really great excuses for my lack of time management, actually. You know what they say about excuses. My sister kept reminding me that she "hopes I am writing all of that down, or you're going to forget it". However well I think I am going to retain all of these precious (or sometimes not so much) details, my pregnancy brain has certainly shown itself a force to be reckoned with- therefore, I won't doubt it's ability to forget even the biggest of pregnant milestones. Hence, the trying to write more things down. The problem is, I have a lot of things that seem to small for a blog post all to themselves, so, my apologies in advance for a display of scattered word vomit, also known as a peek into my brain.

I always feel like I am somehow failing as a semi-mom because of my lack of questions/concerns/need for extra insight whenever we talk to the OB/GYN, so I was really excited when this appointment, I came equipped with a big concern. Go me. My (albeit, slightly weird) question was of all things, about my belly button. Of all the parts on the body to be in pain- my belly button? And it's been as terrible as it sounds. My doctor explained to me that I most likely have an umbilical hernia that was distressed due to the pregnancy. Oh, so my guts are just pushing their way through the cracks in my abdominal wall? Sweet. NBD.

In other news, the baby's kicks have been on rapid-fire mode. I felt pretty prepared that the kicks would inevitably increase in strength, but now I am a little frightened that I have an insomniac fetus. I was feeling kicks at 1-3 minute intervals for HOURS this afternoon. HOURS! Don't get me wrong, queen bee (I know there's one reading this and reveling in my pain) - I love the feeling! I just would really love it if I were about to catch some z's between it's kick-boxer training sessions.

Well, that's all I have for now. Stay tuned for more of an inevitably scrambled bunch of things I forgot that need to be noted.

Too Churchy, Too Young, Too Pregnant

I got my first "you're too young to be a momma" comment when I was 13 weeks pregnant. My parade got showered on just three days after going public with our big news. At just 20 years old, I knew these statements would be inevitable; I didn't know that I would be so bad at letting them roll off my back. Those words stung and stuck with me for a few days before I was able to let it go. I am still not entirely positive of the intent of a comment like that, but I certainly know how it's perceived as the recipient. I have always been sensitive and care too much about what people think. I still remember where I was, who I was with, and what I was wearing the first time I was told I was too young to get married. I guess I am a people pleaser with her heart on her sleeves, even when it comes to my personal life. 

I usually try not to get in to things like this in this forum, but I felt it was relevant and needed to be talked about. Plus, where there is one person saying it out loud, I'm sure there's 10 more who are thinking it inside. 

I was struck by a comment the other day that I read. Someone said to another something to the effect of, "When did this get super religious and get married and pregnant fad happen?" I wasn't aware that there was such a fad, but I suppose, by default, I would be fall into it. This struck me for several reasons. One: I don't know that anyone gets into any of those things because it's a popular thing to do. I mean, being a bible-thumping Jesus freak isn't exactly pop-culture's idea of "trendy". In fact, I'd say the opposite. You're automatically the minority if you don't drink, smoke, party, swear, have sex before marriage, or spend your weekends "making up for the week's worth of work". Not to say any of those things are exclusive to non-Christians, but that is how the situation is perceived. Anyway. Moving on. I also don't know anyone that gets married or has children to be cool. I mean, you're stuck with these kids and spouses for quite a while. I would hope that the people getting into these committed relationships are doing them because, I don't know, they love each other, want to spend their lives together and build a family together. But that could just be me. Perhaps there really is a Christian/marriage/pregnancy pact that I don't know about.

My other reason that the comment struck me is simply this: Who cares? If you're not the one with the ring or the pregnant belly, why does it matter what others do with theirs? I have come to the conclusion that it is just in our human nature to analyze and judge the world around us. It is how we learn what we like, don't like, choose to emulate, and choose to dissociate with. I understand. We are curious people. We like to know what others are doing with their lives, and track our successes against theirs. But do we have to do it in such a critical way?

So, for those who wonder, I would like to address a few things.

• I am young. I know. I also know that to most, my age means that my marriage will surely fail, my dreams will be left in the dust, and I will fail as a parent. I know that it is a scary concept to most that someone at my age could possibly know what they want in life so soon. To you, I say you're right. I don't know what the world has in store for me. All I know is that whatever that may be, I would rather face it with my husband by my side than by myself. To me, getting married so young simply means I get that much more of my life spent with the one that makes me happy, makes me the best version of me, and supports me in all that I do.
• I am a Christian not to be "churchy" or religious, but because I love Jesus and what He has done for me. No one really needs God until they need God. It's easy to think, "I can pay my bills, put food on the table. My life is pretty good. I don't need God." You're right. But there may be a day in your life when you have nothing left to turn to but Him. For me, that happened young in life.  I was born with a chronic illness and cheated death more than once. My childhood was spent more in hospitals than out of them. And when I was home, there were years of my life spent in poverty and situations of abuse. I needed God. I still need Him. That is why I am a Christian.
• I write about things I think about. I often fill my status updates with things about my husband, my dog, my pregnancy, my home, my family, and my Jesus. I don't write about them to proclaim anything, but just because those things often consume my thoughts. If I am stuck in traffic and mad about it, I write about that. If I am tired and grouchy and in pain, you'll know. But if I am happy and thankful for something to do with my husband, baby, family, or God, you'll probably read about that too. 

It was 5 years ago this summer that I met William. I knew I would marry him. There were people back then voicing their opinions on my boyfriend choice. We proved them wrong. It was two years ago next month that William asked me to marry him. I said yes. People disapproved. We got married anyway. It was a year and a half ago that we said "I do". Many thought I was too young. To their surprise, we are happy, strong, and yes, young. I am 23 weeks pregnant now, and I suppose there are those who disagree with that decision as well. We will mess up. But we will be the best parents we can be, despite our lack of years under our belts. You will see. :)