Glucola!

Doesn't that word sound like it should be something really fun?

It's not... it's the term for the first trimester Gestational Diabetes screening I did this morning. While the Orange-flavored Tang knock-off was better than what I envisioned drinking, my hopes were still just the tiniest bit disappointed... after all, don't promise a girl GLUCOLA! (to be read in a Spanish "Ole!" inflection) and deliver glucola (to be read in a post-nasal drip 90 pound wuss inflection) :(

I got to hear the baby's heartbeat again on the doppler... today was 160 beats per minute. Old wives, that means girl apparently. However, the last reading was 125... so either my little hermaphrodite switched teams between the scans, or that old wive's tale isn't particularly reliable. I am getting eager to know what the baby's gender is. I took a quiz online at Parents.com, which told me it was too close to call. The Chinese calendar says it's a girl. My father in law told my husband to finish his dissertation so his grandson doesn't have to suffer through it, too... apparently 1 vote for the boy camp. I've read about these over the counter tests sold at Target and Walgreens... I'm so tempted... but, my next appointment is October 27. I suppose I can wait until then!

Hope you all are having a Glucola! day... not a glucola :( day...

I may be pregnant, but some things don't change :)

This is the one that makes me cry... Mandy Gonzalez is a goddess!



This one also makes me cry... Usnavi finally makes peace with the barrio... it's beautiful... and so latin... I LOVE IT...



Is it possible to register for for tickets to "In the Heights" when it comes to DPAC in February? Or, would that be an appropriate place for a baby shower? :)

This one doesn't make me cry... I just love the immigrant theme and the way Lin Manuel Miranda knits the stories together... AND, the way he integrates every Latin genre from the Bolero to the Salsa to the Merengue to Reggaeton... Genius...



Makes me so proud of the people who came here from those same Hispanic countries to give me what I have...

Piccolino WILL speak Spanish... :)

1 almost down...

Tomorrow marks 12 weeks... I am, officially, almost done with my first trimester. Very rarely in my life have I looked forward to something so much. While my complaints can't possibly measure up against the women who face multiple instances of sickness each day and crippling exhaust, I have noticed a significant change in myself... and I am not a fan of surrendering control to this little parasite (not trying to be mean, but the child is LITERALLY mooching off of me right now... without reserve... just soaking up whatever I have to offer... parasitic, no?)...

Most notably, I am EMOTIONAL. I know this is a departure from the usual, stoic character that I am... haha! But, seriously... I work hard to be a logic-oriented person. I have had to have my heart broken and boundaries tested and many other difficult lessons taught in order to reign in my naturally very strong emotions. Thanks to Piccolino, I now have very little control, if any, over my emotions. For instance, I cry while listening to "In the Heights" in the car. There is a song toward the end, after Abuela Claudia passes, where one of the main women characters sings about how Abuela Claudia kept every scrap of paper about the lives of those she loved in boxes. The character (Nina) sings that she's sorting through these boxes while the woman she loves is gone... it reminded me of my Great Grandmother, Manuela, to whom I always referred as "Aye Aye" after the sound she made standing up. And I cried... in my car... listening to an iPod on radio... crying. As in tears.... from my eyes... cried. WHAT?

Thankfully, some of those pains which initially indicated there was something askew in my womb have subsided. I cannot wait until I can say that about the daily nausea, ridiculous emotionality, and fluctuating between excitement and anxiety.

However, my fear is that these things may never revert to "normal." My mother was known in our youth for crying at Hallmark commercials. She never was able to cope with either of us driving, even when we lived out of the house. Her anxiety induces calls to me every 20 minutes of a road trip. She's never had nausea, but her behavioral anecdotes lead me to believe maybe this is my new normal... uh oh...

In only slightly related news, I started my new applications to universities. I am applying to Masters and Doctoral level programs in either Public Administration or Public Service. I am so hoping this is my last year of applying to universities... I've had QUITE enough of it all...

So, you see, even in the midst of worrying that a new norm I am not ready for is being established, I am also being an agent of change in my own life.

I guess I know where Piccolino gets it from :)

A little wager...

So... Nathaniel and I are thinking it's time to make things interesting. He doubts my intuition and belief in the fact that my burgeoning hips mean I am having a girl. Being the obstinate man that I fell in love with, he says we're having a boy... just because he can.

We decided to make a wager... only thing is, we weren't creative enough to think of anything to wager on our own. We thought at first that the we should say that if I'm right, he has to come to see "In the Heights" with me when it comes to DPAC. If I'm wrong, he gets to stay safely at home. We thought about $10, but that's not exciting... it all comes out of a joint account! He offered to let me choose the destination of his graduation trip if I'm right... but that seems to be silly, as it is HIS gift for finishing HIS PhD... So, we're kind of at a placenta-brain induced, creative-less dead end...

Which brings us to our first truly interactive blog post... What should we wager?

Auntie E comes to visit...

We've been so happy to have our baby's "Aunt" Elizabeth come visit us from Boston. She has brought laughter, relaxation, fun, and "I [heart] N.Y." t-shirts to cover the baby bump. Nathaniel and I are so fortunate to have such a wonderful friend who takes the time, energy and resources to come spend time with us and shares our joy so much! Tomorrow, we send her back to Boston, back to her PhD program, back to the cool weather we are wishing to see here soon.

While Elizabeth has been here, we've taken the time to sit down in the comfort of our own home and enjoy time as a family. We've eaten well, rested well, and laughed well. All of which are, undoubtedly, good for the baby - a welcome relief from the stresses of my 2 jobs and endless dissertation writing and application completions.

Nathaniel and I are cramming the first year of marriage, his dissertation year, and pregnancy into the same 365 days. Everyone I know says that the first year of marriage is one of the most stressful. Additionally, the statistics about relationship failure during a dissertation year are staggering - that level of dedication to a single-minded pursuit really takes a toll on learning to live with another person in peace and harmony. The hormones of the first trimester also make peace and harmony a continuously elusive target. Add to that the incompetent functioning of North Carolina's Department of Mental Health, the kids at the school I struggle to enjoy, and a financial crisis that plays out severely to our demographic and you have a recipe for implosion (or explosion... either way, a mess).

Even in the face of those circumstances, we feel fortunate to have family and friends who take time to show love and encouragement. The flow of support and sympathy have been ever increasing, too - last night we got some news that made me smile from the pit of my soul to the tips of my fingers. We'll save that for another post. But, Elizabeth is a friend who is here with us, through it all, even when she is working against social and academic pressures on a daily basis as she pursues her PhD.

And that's why our child will call her "Aunt" Elizabeth.

My REAL first child...

Many of you know that Hector is more than just a dog. He was a band aide on my heart when my world was dark and scary. He is my nap buddy, car buddy, and especially meal time buddy. When I wanted to start completely over again, Hector was with me. When I came back, Hector came with me. His love is simple, pure, unadulterated, and sustaining. As a matter of fact, one of my husband's very earliest positive qualities was the way he took to Hector. Hector is my REAL first child (he's actually a second, as Gustave was here first... But, Hector is the big brother in the current scenario).

I have ALWAYS hated the scene in "Lady and the Tramp" where Lady goes from being the pampered, beautiful Christmas present to the annoying incidental being when Jim Dear and Darling have their first baby. I have watched this scene play out in real life even among some people I know and love: an animal that was integral to the family is suddenly just a nuisance to the new dynamic. I am TERRIFIED that Nathaniel or I would make Hector feel even slightly put out.

I acknowledge that Hector is going to need some new boundaries. He'll have to share his mother and father and the love seat is going to be REALLY crowded with 2 grown adults, a 20 pound dog, and a breastfeeding baby.

However, Hector is a part of our family. When I adopted him, I committed to loving him throughout the span of his life. I am aiming to keep his life as normal as possible. He's already the toast of the town in our little apartment complex, with the newly-ambulating little children taking the quickest steps of their young lives across the courtyard to get to him. He's a little short on patience when they try to ride him like a horsey or pull on his fur, but that's what under the bed is for. I am anticipating that our first child is going to maintain that status, and expect him to be the best big brother on four legs.

I guess I'm going to have to learn the La La Lu lullaby if this is how I really feel, though :)

Hello, again...

We had our first "regular" visit. I guess this is the time other people would start their monthly check ups, since they were not alerted by an in utero drama at 3 days along.

I took my mother, and NOT my husband, as this visit included many gross womanly things, as well as the full family history. The coolest part, however, was the ultrasound.

One may conjecture that the 5th ultrasound in 10 weeks of life would be a routine event by now. However, this ultrasound was different and made me sad that my husband's stomach wouldn't have sustained the rest of the visit. This time, I saw my child move. And it was AWESOME. (How am I going to react when this child is valedictorian of his or her class when an arm wave and twist are so awe-inspiring right now?)

Our child now has an identifiable head (bodes well for valedictorian status), arms that move, and little legs. Every time the ultrasound got close, the baby would turn away. Modest, perhaps? In any case, the baby was playful and looked like a real being. At 2 centimeters long, still sporting a tail bud, and no working eyes and ears, our baby was beautiful! My mom looked like she could cry at any moment.... not really new for her, but still a cool moment to witness!

My name is correct on this one, so I am married to Nathaniel, not M.C. anymore. The baby is to the right of the dark sac, with the larger portion on the top the head and everything following logically from that point.

I am having an early test for Gestational Diabetes when I go for my visit in October. They are taking me off of the medication I have been on since I was 21 years old starting tomorrow in preparation for the test.

This medication has made my life normal. All of the negative side effects from my Polycystic Ovarian Syndrome have been relatively normalized thanks to this medicine. I am more than just a little terrified of going off of this medication - especially since the last time I went off of it, I gained 10 pounds just existing. I want to do what is best for the baby, of course, but am having significant separation anxiety from my medication which has been so magical. I intend to still eat well and work out, but feel so discouraged, since I was never able to control my weight before this medication. The doctor I saw today was great and told me that my body was going through something that is unlike any conditions I have experienced before, so my reactions may be different as well. I just don't want to return to the way things were before.

Again, if my child ever says I don't love him or her...

Rocky Mountain High...

Piccolino is visiting his father's homeland right now. We left Raleigh yesterday morning and got in to Salt Lake City about 8 hours after that. On our second flight, we sat next to a very attractive lady with a nearly 2 year old in her lap. I WAS TERRIFIED.

Many of you know that I am a baby magnet. On a plane, I will ALWAYS end up near the child who is inconsolable because of popped ears or thinking that cheerio volleyball is an appropriate way to spend the duration of the flight. While I fully understand the right of the family unit, in part or in whole, to use air transportation, I always wonder at their ability to pick the seat next to me. I still have those same concerns and reservations, but now, I have the added terror of knowing that I, one day in a future not as distant as I thought it would be, will have the pleasure of disturbing some young academic during a flight with my offspring. Needless to say, seeing the toe-headed little boy next to me was not exciting to my soul.

He started off chanting "Stuck... stuck... stuck... stuck..." and his mother reassured him that was the point - he should be stuck in the seat with her until they got to see grandma. Every reiteration of that word "Stuck" in 23.5 month old little boy dialect tore into the wound of fear and anxiety that is currently adorning my psyche. Takeoff was the usual wrestling match/popped ear tragedy/excitedly loud exclamations that led me to believe I would NOT be developing any maternal instincts during this trip. However, this attractive woman with the Blonde son was quite the surprise.

She had implements to keep him from kicking me and was able to direct a child without full understanding to stop what he was doing. She provided him with access to "the Wiggles" and other non-invasive enjoyments and even (brace yourself) GOT HIM TO TAKE AN AFTERNOON NAP THAT LASTED MORE THAN HALF THE PLANE RIDE!

As we spoke to each other during various phases of the takeoff, flight, and landing, I learned that she was an Air Force brat, having spent most of her life in Germany. She became a teacher in DODDS schools and returned there, where she met her husband, who was recently deployed AGAIN to Afghanistan, despite being labeled "undeployable." He left her with a gift, though: she was 5 weeks pregnant. We discussed growing up military, practiced our German, talked about how we wanted our kids to have the same benefits our childhood afforded us, the effects of altitude change on early pregnancy symptoms, and my fears that my child would be a terrible traveler.

Before deplaning, I told her of my previous nervousness. I told her that traveling with a child (which will be unavoidable for us, as our families are spread very far apart) was one of my top 5 things I did not want to have to do, but that being with her son and her was an incredible encouragement. She told me some of her secrets, which include just doing it frequently enough that the child has no choice but to acclimate and participate.

Now, I sit with my husband in a coffee house in a very trendy portion of downtown Salt Lake City. It is quiet. I have been able to get some work done and will be able to bill while I am here. I know these moments are coming to a close. I know that the peace we shared while watching a favorite show on his laptop as we soared at 30,000 feet will probably not occur for several years to come. Being with his family and meeting other people along the way who know what they're doing are starting to make it all feel better... After spending the evening watching my beautiful sister in law try on wedding dresses while laughing with 2 other sisters in law and a sweet mother in law, I'm convinced our sacrifices will be worth it.

Our poor child, though, is being born into a seemingly predestined role once again: Get ready, Piccolino... we're traveling!