Not Telling

Starting yesterday, I have had to eat almost constantly, because as soon as I stop eating I feel like my stomach will empty itself in an unconventional and unpleasant manner.

What does this have to do with not telling? The convention of only sharing the big news with a few close friends or family until after the risky first trimester is over makes total sense. I get it. I've adopted it, slightly modified to include total strangers. But here's the trouble: all of my close friends and family live in the States. Which means I can only call them on the weekends, and I really want to complain to my Mommy right. now.

And so in addition to nausea, I'm feeling pretty isolated. I know this will go away in February when we tell the world, but I'm really missing being able to whine about stuff on facebook and twitter, and almost immediately have someone advising or commiserating or telling me to buck up and stop whining.

So, for now, you're getting all of it, blog. Sorry.

Pregnancy brain

It's official. It's real. My brain has turned to mush.

I forgot to put salt in three separate things while cooking Christmas dinner. (Is the baby anti-salt? I don't think that's okay with me.)

I misread "hospital" as "museum," and consequently thought there was a London Chest Museum in Bethnal Green. (But wouldn't it be great if there were?)

I cannot count the number of times I have gone somewhere to do something specific and then forgotten what I went there to do in the first place.

I can't count this mostly because I can probably no longer count.

On the plus side, there's supposed to be a thaw today and tomorrow. Maybe a good run will clear my brain.

Baby talk

The other night I overheard my husband talking to out loud to himself from the other room. Except he wasn't talking to himself, he was apostrophizing our wee-one-to-be. Obviously I teased him about this a bit (he did sound pretty ridiculous), but he just asked, "Don't you talk to the baby when you're alone?" Uh... no. Usually I just forget there's a baby at all. My initial euphoria has given way to a feeling of detachment.

Apparently it's pretty common early on in the first trimester to feel like it's all just a dream. That's certainly true for me, but there's another side to that which I haven't heard anyone mention before. In some weird train of logic that only makes sense on an emotional level, that because the pregnancy isn't quite real to me, the possibility of my not carrying to full term seems much more reasonable than the thought of ending up with a real, live baby in 9 months' time.

Until yesterday, my body hadn't been helping out much with this impression. The only physical manifestation of the pregnancy was low-grade cramps that persisted for about a week as my ligaments stretched and my body made room for baby. Even though this is one of the first real signs that there's life in there, as far as I was concerned, it just felt like I'd be getting my period any second now. Each day that I didn't came as a surprise.

I know that part of this detached feeling is my enormous fear of not carrying to term. The pregnancy might feel like a dream, but it's a beautiful dream and I don't want to do anything that might cause it to end. The snowy, icy weather recently has encouraged me to cocoon myself at home, discouraged me from doing anything that might wake me to a pregnancy-less reality. And so I've used the weather and icy sidewalks as an excuse to not go running, even though I know keeping up running is good for the baby, and even though I've got Janathon coming up in (yikes) a little over a week.

But the other day things started to thaw a little bit. (I mean that metaphorically, although it's literally true as well. Our back garden went from winter wonderland a few days ago to almost snow-free this morning.) In my post-test high, I had emailed a friend from back home for advice on running. I know it's fine to run during pregnancy, but I wasn't sure if it was okay to continue doing what I would consider training runs: tempo and interval runs. The friend I emailed works in a sports-related medical field, is an expert long-distance runner (Iron Man athlete, no less), and is the mother of a beautiful and healthy toddler. So, not a bad person to ask about preggo running.

She got back to me with some excellent advice, but one thing in particular that she said really resonated with me. "Most of all listen to your body," she wrote, "...If you have spotting with intensity, I would tone it back." I've heard the whole listen to your body thing before; it was the second half of that that really struck me. Because, in other words, what that says is, if you screw up a little, it's okay. If you try to find your limits and end up going a little past them, it's cool. You'll know better for next time. You get do-overs with babies. And unless you do something really freaking bad, or do something bad chronically, you're not likely to hurt the baby. 

Needless to say, this makes a lot of sense, and I think I already knew it. But only about other people's babies, who, let's face it, are a leetle less precious than one's own. (And if they get screwed up, it's a whole lot less my fault.) When it came to my baby, this was mind-blowing stuff. Live your life, train, because it's probably going to turn out fine.

And then, just yesterday, something else mind-blowing happened. My boobs expanded like the Grinch's heart. On one hand, this was not so great, because if there's one thing my life does not need, it's more boobage. But, on the other hand, this was not caused by all the cute little Whos in Whoville singing their happy little heads off. No, this was caused by hormones. Baby-type hormones.

This pregnancy might not feel real yet, but those boobs sure do.* And that means, holy shit, I just might be pregnant. This morning I muttered a word or two baby-wards. And I've resolved to get right out there and start running again. Not just running, but tempo running, my favorite. Starting a little slower than I would've pre-baby, but cranking it up notch by notch until I reach my limit. Our limit.

Then I tried to go for a walk yesterday, and decided to wait on running for a day or two until they de-ice a little more. I think by tomorrow they'll be ready and I hope so, because I think I am, too.

Has anyone out there experienced this fear? Any sage advice?

And has anyone tried these? I've heard they're pretty good on packed snow, but was wondering if they work as well on ice.

*I came very, very close to using this sentence as the title of the post. You're welcome.

Heeeeeeeeere's blastocyst!

Yes, that's right. We have pregnancy! I'm trying not to get too attached to the idea, because I live in fear of the m-word. That sounds flippant, but I really don't want to jinx us by even typing it. This tiny little bundle of cells inside me feels so precious and delicate, I want to hug it to me and protect it, but at the same time I want to pass my joy along to everyone I know and don't know. Really, the past few days I've had to stop myself from just casually slipping it into conversation with close friends, like the cashier at Tesco. "Would you like your receipt?" "Oh, well, I'm pregnant, so... no."

The timing of all those secret special plans I had for my husband worked out pretty spectacularly. I took the test the morning of his birthday (on Wednesday), then spent a few minutes jumping around and yelping. (The cat looked mildly concerned, but he's over it.) Then I made a treasure hunt, just little tags with clues on them, leading from one to another and then to his first present (gorgeous vintage tweed jacket). Some more clues led to his second present--a little elephant onesie. He was a little confused about why I'd get him a onesie, until I pulled the test from my back pocket. (Hey, urine's sterile.) More jumping and yelping. A very good birthday, I think.

Almost the first thing I did after telling the hubs and making a doctor's appointment was to email two friends, who are experts in yoga and running, to ask for advice on preggo exercise. The running lady's also a pretty new mom (she has an 18 month old), so I knew she'd have great advice.

I couldn't wait to hear back from them before starting on a healthy pregnancy kick, though, so I did a very gentle 20 minute prenatal yoga session and then went for a run. I really enjoyed the yoga. It focused a lot on what are called "locks," basically training the muscles of your pelvic floor and abdomen. The classes I took back home, the hardest yoga I've ever done, used locks quite a bit, so I think this one will stay in the repertoire post-natally as well.

The run was not quite as excellent. Well, I say run. I started running with the intention of doing so for 30 minutes straight, but kept feeling very sluggish. Ended up doing a 9 min./1 min. run/walk ratio for 30 minutes instead. I don't know if it was general out-of-shapeness that made the run so yucky, or if it's first trimester-induced exhaustion.

It feels like I shouldn't have the right to be tired out by pregnancy yet, only being about 4 weeks in. But even being chatted up--whilst running through a quiet, wooded area--by a highly sketchy dude on a bike (and therefore easily as fast/faster than me) wasn't enough to give my legs the energy to pick up the pace. Neither was the really hard rain that started about 22 minutes into the run.

On the other hand, I ended up with about a 10:00 pace including the walking, so maybe I just went out too fast. A problem with me.

And just so this isn't all negative running talk, I did start listening to Haruki Murakami's What I Talk About When I Talk About Running. Nice listening for an easy run.

Anyway, to sum up:
Distance: 3 miles
Time: 30:05
Notable stuff: First (knowingly) pregnant run! Felt sluggish and leaden-legged. Not helped by fairly strong rain or sketchy biker guy.

please please please

Boobs: tender*
Abs: slightly crampy
Hopes: middling to high
Mood: not too optimistic (trying, anyway)

please please please please**

*don't say I didn't warn you about the whole TMI thing

**I want it to be this month extra a lot b/c I have stupendous plans for telling my husband in a cute way, either on his birthday (next week, possibly a little too soon to be sure) or Christmas (which would mean I'd have to keep the secret from everyone in the world for, like, a whole week. yikes.)

TMI Dilemma

I've been thinking a lot about this blog, believe it or not, imaginary reader. It's kind of a weird thing. It started out as just a super-secret blog about wanting a baby just because I need an outlet. Like, not even my husband or my mom know about this blog. And then like two seconds later it became a super-secret yet semi-public blog about running, since half of Janathon is blogging your runs.

Which is kind of weird, yes, but the really weird thing is I'm not sure what kind of TMI I can go into here anymore. 'Cause in the Venn diagram of allowable running and pregnancy/trying/motherhood TMI, there is an overlap, but not really. To illustrate my point, literally, here are some diagrams. It may appear at first that there's a lot in common:

But here's the real story:

Or, in a little more detail...

TMI stuff runners can share:
-Stories about poop (getting the trots, almost getting the trots [I like the 2 Gomers' appellation of "code brown" for that one]*, seeing people get the trots, what kind of food gives you the trots, etc.)
-Stories about bleeding (that time you fell on your ass*, that time you saw someone fall on their ass, that time you lost a toenail, etc.)
-Stories about vomit (your vomit, other people's vomit, what kinds of food you blame for your vomit, which types of gel pack taste like vomit, how many miles you ran after vomiting, etc.)
-Stories about other bodily fluids (that gnarly blister you got after your first marathon and what it contained*, what happens to your nose when the temperature dips below freezing, the best kind of glove for dealing with below-freezing nose syndrome, etc.)

*Asterisks indicate subjects on which I have excellent stories that I might share one day if you're really lucky. Especially the one about the first time I got the trots, when some mobsters let me use their bathroom. True story.

TMI stuff pregnant ladies, hoping to be pregnant ladies, and moms can share:
-Stories about poop (what each trimester is doing to you number-two wise, hemorrhoids, what comes out of your baby's butt and what it might mean, etc.)
 -Stories about bleeding (when you got your last period, the horror show that went on after you gave birth, etc.)
-Stories about vomit (morning sickness, spit-up, projectile baby vomit that made you freak out and call the pediatrician again, etc.)
-Stories about other bodily fluids (breast milk, colostrum [which just sounds wrong, doesn't it?], weird gunk coming out of your baby's right eye that made you call the pediatrician again, etc.)

(You'll notice that there are no asterisks in this section. Yet.)

So... not sure what to do about that one. Except to say, if you're here for the running, sorry for the baby stuff. And vice versa. 'Cause I'm not good at non-TMI. Deal? Deal.

Getting Healthy

All the experts tell you that being a good parent starts before you become a parent. I want my kid(s) to have a much healthier lifestyle than I did as a child. As I've got some unfortunate epigenetics on my side, and some not-so-good habits of my own, I'm resolving (once again) to get as fit as I can, both before and during my eventual pregnancy. So far, this has been a decidedly mixed effort.

Here's the good:
1. Downloaded some prenatal yoga and aerobic exercise videos.
2. Signed up for Janathon.
3. Added 1 orange to my daily breakfast, and subtracted 1 slice of toast. (Leaving 1 slice of whole wheat toast, 1 mug of South Indian tea, 1 orange, and 1 400 mcg. folic acid tablet.)
4. Found some free running clubs and yoga/pilates classes in my area.
5. Discovered that I still have 1 month left on my gym membership!
6. Resolved to cut down on butter in general.
7. Actually managed to only have dessert once or twice a week since returning from vacation. (Until Thanksgiving, of course.)
8. Have bought/will buy much less alcohol than normal this holiday season. After all, I may or may not be able to drink it anyway, so why have it around?

And here's the bad:
1. The Lindt Advent calendars that the mister brought home the other day.
2. Thanksgiving pies + Christmas parties + Christmas + Boxing Day.
3. Keep forgetting to sign up for those free classes/running clubs (which you have to do each week). The one time I did remember, I felt too sick and crampy on the day to even go.
4. Only actually did the yoga and exercise videos once each so far.

So, what's the plan? That's a really good question. At the moment... get changed and go for a run as soon as I stop typing this. Here's the plan, longer-term:

1. Dessert-wise, eat only the Advent chocolates and stuff we have at home. (This still means 1 chocolate per day, plus cookies, mince pies, and hot chocolate. But, hey, it's December. Almost.)
2. Run 3-4 times per week, even if it's only a few miles each time.
3. Go to the gym once per week, through the end of my membership (end of December). Use this time to do some interval or tempo training on the elliptical.
4. Once gym membership ends, Janathon begins! This means running daily, and blogging about it. (Don't know which will be harder.)
5. Keep up the folic acid, add some iron (both through food and vitamins).
6. Do yoga 1-2 times/week, either the free class or the free video variety.
7. Start doing push-ups and core training again, while I still can.
8. To keep myself accountable, and as training for Janathon, blog about it all.

So... I'm not.

I was all set to write a post about how I bought a pregnancy test, in preparation for a really exciting Thanksgiving. And how I was having trouble keeping my hands (and other things) off of it. It's a good thing I restrained myself, though, because this morning I got a little surprise.

Well, not really a surprise. Just an unwelcome, unhoped for bundle of un-joy. I tried to kid myself it could just be a little spotting, but that only worked for about two minutes.

No need for the test now. At least not until next month.

So, now instead of anticipation and butterflies, my abdomen (and back) is filled with horrible cramp, and instead of going to yoga class in town, I'm stuck at home on the sofa, watching The Indian Doctor.
 
Boo. Well, here's to next month. (And The Indian Doctor. It's quite good, really.)

So... am I?

Last month my husband and I went on a trip. This was a big trip in many ways, but the only one relevant to this blog is this: that trip was when we were gonna start trying. Ya know. Trying for real.

But we hit a few snags. After being on a nice regular 23-24 day cycle for the last six months or so (yeah, I didn't really bother to do things like "track my period" until six months ago), my period decided to arrive 4 days late. Which threw projected prime baby-making time right into the week when we'd be splitting our time between visiting relatives and doing some sight-seeing on our own. Neither the husband or I really felt comfortable getting it on at the in-laws'. In the end, we did manage to have a little us-time, and on peak-fertility days, too. At least I think so.


I mean, what happens when your period is late? Is it due to delayed ovulation? Or is stress (like the stress leading up to a long vacation) just putting the beginning of your period on hold for a few days? And how does all of this affect your fertility?



And what does it mean for your next cycle? Will it slip back into its normal time slot right away? Will there be additional delay next time, or maybe it'll try to play catch-up and come a little early?

I've never wondered or cared about any of this before, but it all of seems highly pertinent right now, because--if it had come on time last month--my period would have started around last Sunday. If it's back on a ~24 day cycle, it should start this Friday(ish). Of course, maybe it'll be slightly delayed.

So I'm doing lots of period-math (ugh, two of my least favorite things) and there's an anti-hope brigade fighting a losing battle in my mind. (Have you noticed that I can't bring myself to use the p-word? Not period, duh, because clearly that's no problem for me. The other p-word.) How do I know this is a lost battle? Because both a baby and a bird pooped on me during our vacation, and this, according to my MIL means that I will a. have a baby soon and b. have good luck. And I kinda believe this nonsense.  These are the straws I'm clutching at.


If I hadn't been experiencing some symptoms, I probably would be tripping about carefree, with nary a thought of period-math or anti-hope campaigns, let alone baby poop. But the nausea I've been experiencing off and on, particularly while preparing food, can't all have been in my head (could it be smell sensitivity?). The headaches, unfortunately, have all been in my head, but in a different way. And I definitely didn't imagine the wave of vertigo that washed over me for a few seconds last night.


There are, of course, problems with this. First, all or some of the above-mentioned symptoms could be a million other things, like a. malaria (yes, this is a possibility, though thankfully remote), b. some weird flu that doesn't cause muscle ache, c. just a bunch of random, unrelated stuff, or d. (despite my protestations) wishful thinking that has taken a weirdly masochistic turn. Second, according to everything I've read, this is pretty early on to be experiencing such signs. Not unheard of, but not exactly common.


So, what's left to do? Wait, I guess, and I'm not so good at that. Which makes me wonder how I'll handle it if the answer turns out to be no this time. It also makes me wonder how I'll handle the 9+ months to come if the answer is yes!


I know I can't be the only one out there who has experienced these confusing thoughts and weird period-related equations. Does any know how pi should factor in? Why does the answer always end up being infinity?* Any help, ladies? (Or men? Hey, the BabyWorm doesn't hate. Or, possibly, you know, exist.)


*That's just a little quantum physics joke for you all. Hey, no problem, any time.