As Requested

I'm actually pushing out a little, trying to look pregnant. Most of the time you can't tell. Or if you can tell, the people at the hardware store that watched me lift heavy wet bags of cedar mulch into my Subaru without offering to help are just jerks. :) Total weight gain to date: 11 pounds.

What I Tell Him

I talk to him. Maybe this isn’t something that I should admit to more than a few people (if that), but at night when we’re alone I talk to him. Sometimes during the day I forget that I’m pregnant until he reminds me with that familiar little tickling feeling inside, but at night in the dark before I fall asleep I know he is there. I lay in my bed with my hand on my abdomen and think about the little guy growing inside of me and the way my life is about to change. And I can’t help but talk to him. I tell him how much I love him already… sometimes even tearing up anticipating how much I am going to love him when I hold him in my arms. I tell him about all the things I hope I am able to teach him… about being kind and loving and giving and honest. I tell him about all the places I want to take him and all the discoveries I hope we’ll make together. I tell him that I’m not perfect, but that I will do the best I can to give him everything he needs.

This weekend I went out to get the mail, and a bulky manilla envelope addressed to me “and Baby Matousek” leaned against the side of the front porch. I brought it in and tore at it with my fingernails before getting out the scissors. Brooklynn watched in anticipation. The return address was from my dear friend Lisa who I met when she joined my writing group. She has been so incredibly supportive of my journey to motherhood. Last year she sent me a homemade card with a drawing of a sperm on the cover. “I know you’ll pick a good one!” she said. A few months later she sent me a delicious smelling fertility candle from Hawaii. And this past weekend she sent me a little brown box that contained something that said so much to me with just its contents. The two tiny blue Keen sandals told me that she loved me and supported me and was excited about my little boy. And they said “I know who you are and what’s important to you, and I know you will take that little boy on adventures that you will both love.”

Last night just before I drifted off to sleep, I thought of the little feet that will some day fit in those sandals and how they will likely clop along clumsily beside me as I hold his hand. “I can’t wait for all the adventures we’re going to share,” I told him, and I went to sleep excited about whatever comes next.

Breaking In and Bubble-Bubble-Bubble

Picture this: the back of a 4-season porch of a tiny neutral colored home with gorgeous perennial gardens, the purple conflowers and lavender liatris and dark red monarda all in bloom, the tall tomato plants teaming with fat Early Girls that vary in color from green to pink to bright red, a small aged cedar table dragged next to the window, a torn screen, a pair of legs dressed in black maternity capris sticking out the window, kicking as a 40-year-old pregnant woman breaks in to her own house.

I can name about ten people who would have yelled at me for doing what I did this morning, for pushing myself up and over the window sill and dragging my stomach across the wood while pulling my body forward into my family room. But I didn’t really have a choice and I actually thought I was being resourceful.

As soon as I got in to my kitchen and found my keys, I removed the spare key and buried it in the yard, so the next time Mark and Carrie (my neighbors who have the other spare key) go camping, it won’t matter if I lock myself out of my house at 6:30am. I don’t know what happened to the pregnancy hormones this morning, but I didn’t even come close to crying or raising my voice. I laughed from the second I realized I didn’t have my keys until I got in to work and told the whole story to my boss. It helps that last night was cool and dry, and the temperature on the thermostat in my house said 61 this morning. It helps that I got my AFP blood test results yesterday, and everything is peachy keen with baby… no neural tube defects. It helps that it’s Friday, and I’m spending the weekend with my favorite ten-year-old girl hiking and making cookies and being girls. It helps that as I ride in my car to work every morning, although the sunlight on the river is gorgeous and majestic eagles fly overhead with fish in their mouths, I am completely distracted and enthralled by the feeling of bubble-bubble-bubble from inside of me that reminds that he’s in there sharing a life with me already.

A Whirlwind Tour

Because the arrival of the second trimester has allowed me the energy (and the lack of nausea) to travel, I spent the weekend on a whirlwind tour of the state of Wisconsin (minus one of my favorite parts... the forests of northwestern wisconsin and Lake Superior... but we'll get to that later). The Reader's Digest Condensed Version:

Milwaukee - a visit that included fabulous homemade pizzas, kelly's famous salsa, baked salmon and lots of soccer. Imagine a tall fair-skinned woman with dark hair streaked with blonde standing on the sidelines of a soccer tournament using phrases like "frustrated" and "knew this would happen" while a shorter woman in a black maternity top and stretchy capris hides behind her sunglasses crying and saying "don't be mad at me." Can I blame it on the hormones? :) After we kissed and made up over baked salmon and fresh green beans coated in real butter, Kelly and John and the boys and I hung out and laughed at ourselves and each other. Those boys are two of my favorite boys on the planet, and even as teenagers they're enjoyable and respectful and fun to be around... even if they wash their bodies with an Axe body wash thats fragrance is called "Snake Peel." Am I ready to be a mother of a boy? :)


Green Bay - Surprise!!! Mom's friend (and, apparently, Executive Vice President in Charge of Parties) Heather threw a surprise birthday party for Mom's 65th, and Ann and I met at the Lake Express ferry in Milwaukee for the trip to GB. TT was definitely surprised, and we had a great late afternoon get-together in Heather and Wendy's backyard. I had my first taste of being a pregnant woman in public as many of Mom's family and friends told me congratulations and asked about due dates and gender and "how are you feeling?" We all thought back to when Ann worked at Mom's office and she was pregnant with Zachary.

Back at Mom's house after the party Ann unpacked a bunch of baby boy clothes she had brought from her neighbor (onesies and gowns and newborn mittens and tiny little footies and an adorable three-piece Winnie The Pooh outfit that Ann had bought her when she was pregnant) as well as several adorable outfits Ann bought me new...including a little terry cloth sweatsuit with matching orange and white striped undershirt. When she pulled the first outfit out and laid it on the carpet in front of me, I looked at the dark blue jumper with a big macho bull dozer on the front and thought "holy shit, I'm having a boy. A boy." I held up the soft, little onesies, and the texture of them brought my mind back to the hours I spent rocking a football-sized Zachary as he snuggled against my shoulder during his first month of life 6 years ago. I've been deeply in love ever since.

In the car on the way back to Milwaukee the next morning Ann went through a list that I had found in a recent pregnancy magazine.... things to buy before baby arrives. I handed her a pen and asked her to tell me what I really need and what is a waste of money. She crossed out some things (like bibs and sweaters and a baby brush and comb set) and added other things (like a Snuggli or Baby Bjorn) and told me which brand of diaper creme to buy (Balmex). "And make sure you get the nipple cream with lanolin." Lovely.

It's fun to think about preparing for baby's arrival, and I'm so glad to have Ann around. She's been really great about helping me when I ask but not overhwhelming me with unsolicited advice. I'm very lucky to have a sister who is a great mother who has been through this all ahead of me.

Milwaukee Part Two - Monday it was back to Milwaukee to drop off Annie and to meet Missy (who I tried to call Melissa but who has been Missy---or Sisaya--since the fifth grade) for a great lunch at Water Buffalo in Milwaukee's Historic Third Ward. It's amazing to me that even though our lives are quickly becoming so radically different, every time I see her we instantly connect and laugh and cry. She is "giving birth" herself as she plans the process of becoming a business owner. The next few months for her will be exciting and scary and crazy as she prepares for a major life change, and although the changes we are making are very different, the experiences seem similar. I am so excited to see what will happen to her over the next year (or years) and I know without a doubt that she and I will remain friends for a lifetime... even if it's going to be a few years before I can find the time to sit in her wine bar or she can tolerate my child(ren). We hugged goodbye on the corner of East Buffalo and Broadway in Milwaukee, and she told me to call her if I ever need her for anything. Anything. And after we spent a few minutes laughing about the way in which she was giving me directions to get back to I-94 and I started walking to my car, I thought about how I knew she meant it, how I knew that she would be there for me if I needed anything. (Well, anything except, apparently, a date for a Packer game. How is it possible that a girl like me can't even bribe people with free tickets to attend the home opener with me? Is it the pregnancy belly? :))

Johnson Creek - my first venture in to a maternity shop... on my way from Milwaukee to LaCrosse. I tried on $10 shorts and capris and summer tops after strapping on a 3-month belly pad. Wow. I'm not ready to be that big yet.


Galesville - After driving around and looking at homes in the area, I spent the night at Sarah's again. We ate chicken kabobs and steamed green beans while Zack fought daddy and got sentenced to a time out for screaming and not listening. It was nice to spend an evening talking to Sarah about what she's going through (her feet were elevated to deal with the swollen ankles) that I can expect several months from now. We paged through What to Expect When You're Expecting and read Dr. Seuss to Zak and shared stories about recent emotional breakdowns. How do you make those around you understand that you really don't have as much control over your emotions as you'd think? I told James (Sarah's husband) that there's a reason that it's funny when comedians talk about their pregnant wives. The comedy routines that talk about the bitchiness and emotional breakdowns wouldn't be funny if they weren't true. "62 more days," Sarah tells me. We're all hoping she goes earlier than that.

All in all a great weekend filled with family and friends. And now back to the reality of trying to move my entire life in 3 months.

The Best Pedicure EVER!

Yesterday I started my day with my monthly OB appointment… officially 16 weeks. Blood pressure 102/68. Total weight gain 8.5 pounds. Right on track. (I told the nurse it sure feels like a lot more than that. She said that’s because everything has shifted up and out. Tell me about it. I am officially unable to wear my regular pants without pain.)

Dr. Brown and I talked about what to expect during the next few weeks and whether or not I should draw blood for the AFP test (which checks for neural tube defects such as spina bifida). He warned me that although the level 2 ultrasound in August will be fun and exciting to see the baby, it can cause some anxiety because the ultrasound technicians’s job during that exam is to find anything that might be wrong. So they spend a lot of time following every little thing that catches their eye. Dr. Brown told me not to worry.

I hopped on the exam table and he felt just a few inches below my belly button.

“There it is,” he said. “Right where it should be at this point.”

I’ve been reading about the size of my uterus and the baby lately (baby is 5 inches and weighs about 3 ounces), and the night before while I was laying on the couch watching Shaq’s Big Challenge on ABC, I found my uterus quite easily. Very hard compared to the belly fat that has been pushed up above it. I told Sarah you can tell I’m pregnant because I’ve never had weight up under my boobs before. My extra weight has always been below my belly button. Well, Baby has pushed all that up, and I’m getting that tell-tale rounded pregnant belly.

On the exam table, Dr. Brown smeared my belly with gel and we listened to the heartbeat. Boy, what a difference a month makes. He didn’t have to search at all. Baby’s heartbeat was loud and strong. He told me that the baby could probably hear sounds outside the womb now and that I should be starting to feel the baby move, if I haven’t already. I have been having some strange, very brief flutters (especially after scarfing down a bunch of pasta covered with butter and cheese) that I thought might be baby movement, but nothing long enough for me to be sure.

He asked me if I was starting to panic about paying for daycare and school and college yet, and I told him I have my moments where I think “Holy Shit, what have I done.”

“You thought about this for a long time before you did it, Barb,” he said, “You’re ready. You’re going to be a great mother.”

Everybody keeps telling me that. I hope they’re right.

Later in the day Brooklynn and I tried a new nail salon, and we decided to get our first pedicure together. We sat in two adjacent cushioned reclining chairs, and I soaked my feet in the hot water and delighted over the mechanical massagers kneading my back. As I watched the young, friendly asian man who smelled slightly of cigarette smoke bend over Brooklynn’s feet to paint a tiny white and silver design on top of her bright red toenails, I felt a definite twitter, a longer lasting bubble-bubble-bubble than any I’ve felt before. And I knew it was baby. I didn’t tell Brooklynn. The first person I told was Ann. I called her on my way home, and we both reminisced about the first time she felt Zachary during the third quarter of the Ravens/Giants Superbowl. Again, hard to believe that was six years ago.

This weekend I'm headed to Milwaukee for some good food and fun with my friend Kelly. I've been dreaming about her salsa all week. I wonder if I should warn her that I now have, as the pregnancy websites call it, "a truck driver's appetite."

Four Girls (and a boy)

Preggo Barb, sprinkler-soaked TT, suntanned Ann, and Hula Girl Sarah

I had barely pulled into the driveway and gotten out to hug Ann when Sarah T came running around the house from the backyard to tell me about the neighbor’s bunny. She lifted her eyebrows and made her eyes huge and smiled her adorable grin and started talking a hundred miles an hour from the second I arrived. And neither the smiling nor the talking stopped much while I was in Green Bay for our first “Girls Weekend.” Zack stayed behind in Michigan with his dad, so it was just the girls (and the incubating boy) for the weekend. Ann brought me a Graco Pack N’ Play that she recently found in her basement and a stack of pregnancy and parenting books. Mom immediately wanted to see my tummy. I only flashed her briefly and she threatened to touch me all weekend. She finally got away with the belly grab when we were all posing for a picture on the front lawn. For pictures of the first (and probably last… at least for a few years) family Girls Weekend, check out more pictures on my website.

A Date on a National Holiday

There’s a scene in the movie When Harry Met Sally in which Sally (played by Meg Ryan) tells her girlfriends over lunch that she and Joe just broke up. Her friend played by Carrie Fisher cannot believe it. “At least you had someone to go out with on national holidays,” she says. This year Rhonda and I decided to be each other’s “dates” on the Fourth of July, and we headed into Festival-land in the hopes of finding an outdoor concert and little arts and crafts booths filled with trinkets where we might buy cute one-of-a-kind baby things.

On the Stone Arch Bridge over the Mississippi River

We started in Minneapolis along Riverwalk and St. Anthony Main. This is a great little area with outdoor cafes that look out over the Mississippi River and downtown Minneapolis. Both Rhonda and I used to hang out here during earlier times in our lives. I even remember dancing here to The Monkees’ “I’m a Believer” when Kelly visited several years ago. Rhonda and I walked along the cobbletone street to the stone arch bridge that crosses the Mississippi, ate some bad fried food and watched a lot of other people get drunk while the band (which was actually pretty good) jammed on the grass across the street. Rhonda said that sometimes she really misses a glass of wine. I told her I miss my hazelnut lattes more, but a Mike’s Hard Lemonade sounded really good as we watched the band in the heat.

Eventually we packed up and headed over to the Taste of Minnesota. When Rhonda presented me with our festival options earlier in the day I told her the absolutely last thing that would appeal to me was the Taste of Minnesota. “I’m crowd averse,” I told her. But somehow (must be the hormones) she managed (with little effort) to persuade me to drive into St. Paul and walk with the crowds over the bridge to Harriet Island. And it was definitely not an event for the crowd averse. But I’m glad I went.

An Outdoor Concert at Taste of Minnesota

We looked at cute little booths selling their wares along the river and Rhonda even bought a dark red dress made out of light fabric that will be perfect for the summer heat. We spent quite a bit of time discussing how it is going to fit her. She’s six weeks behind me, but I tried to warn her that she is going to suddenly pop out a lot more than she expects. I did not buy any clothes for myself.

The woman at the lemonade stand asked Rhonda if her nails were real, and Rhonda and I compared our hands. Ann’s kids always talk about “Aunt Barb’s fingernails” but even I hardly recognize my own nails. One of the added benefits of the increased blood flow during pregnancy is that both my hair and my nails are growing faster and stronger than ever. I’ve had to trim my nails every week or so just to keep them manageable. Of course, the increased blood flow leads to other less desirable things like an increase in mucous…. Hence the constant congestion and one plugged ear that I haven’t really been able to hear out of for about 2 months.

We grabbed the healthiest snack we could find (heavily salted and buttered corn on the cob) and sat on the grass and listened to the band. We didn’t stay for the fireworks (pregnant ladies need their sleep), but during my drive home I saw displays in Rosemount and Prescott and Red Wing. All in all a great national holiday, thanks to my date. :)

This coming weekend I’ll be getting together with the family to celebrate TT's 65^th birthday. I can’t wait to see the kids. I haven't seen them since Christmas. It’s hard to believe that it’s been six years since I lay on the living room floor of Ann’s house near Pulaski and felt little Zachary kick for the first time. I will treasure that moment for the rest of my life.

The Soapbox My Parents Taught Me

The Matousek Clan circa 1982

Someone sent me a diatribe allegedly written by Jay Leno about the way Americans need to be more grateful for what they have and stop paying attention to media. “Shut off the TV, burn Newsweek, and use the New York Times for the bottom of your bird cage,” it said. “We are among the most blessed people on Earth and should thank God several times a day, or at least be thankful and appreciative."

And the question I have to ask is: If I am grateful for my own life, does that mean I shouldn’t care about others who are less fortunate?

I remember when Kelly and Brian were planning to have children and Kelly told me that one of the reasons they knew they wanted to have kids was because the world needed more responsible people, more people who would take care of others. (She doesn’t remember this conversation, so perhaps I made it up a decade and a half ago when their first child was born.) Kelly and Brian looked at the world and knew they wanted to help raise the next generation that would continue to do good work and be compassionate and responsible and work for change in our world.

I have been thinking about this a lot as the 4^th of July comes and I remember the last days I spent with my father. I am so grateful for the time I had with him and the things he taught me. And I have been thinking about what things that my parents have taught me I will pass on to my own son. Compassion. Integrity. Responsibility. Courage. Nourishment of the Soul. Knowledge.

And because all of that is just under the surface of the emotions of what I’m feeling about the anniversary of my father’s death, I couldn’t help but get angry about this email that told me to throw away my Newsweek and stop paying attention.

I am very, very grateful for everything that I have. I appreciate so much about my life and understand how incredibly lucky I am to live where I live. But that doesn't mean I don't want things to change. That doesn't mean I don't want things to be better. Since the beginning of time the major positive changes we've seen in our world were because there were people who said, "We can do this better. We can do this differently." Our country exists because there were people who left Europe knowing they were willing to risk a lot for a better way of life. People who looked at things and said, "I am happy with MY life but I want things to be better for others” are responsible for the end of slavery and the end of the Holocaust.

I read Newsweek cover to cover every week. Not because I am looking for reasons to be unhappy about my life, but because I want to be informed about what is going on in the world. I want to look at the good, the bad and the ugly. I want to know about the genocide going on in Darfur and the millions of American children living in poverty and the millions of American citizens who have to choose between putting food on their table and paying for their medication because they have little or no health care coverage. I want to know about people who are treated with hate because of the color of their skin or their income level or their country of origin or their sexual orientation. I want to know about people around the world living in conditions so much worse than my own so I can understand and help to put people in power who want to do something about the working conditions in China, the living conditions in North Korea, the oppression of women in Afghanistan. I read Newsweek cover-to-cover every week because I want to look at those that have less than me and say "What can we do? How can we change this? How can we make this better?" The alternative is to turn and look away and say "Hey, I'm happy. I have everything I need. Who cares about the rest of the world?"

By and large the media is NOT a negative media. It is a media that wants us to see what is going on in our world, to reveal the truth, to not look away because our own lives are good. Jesus Christ wouldn't ignore the poor and the weak and the suffering of the world, and neither should we.

Both of my parents have taught me by example to be grateful for what I have (when we whined about wanting something others had Dad would say, “Don’t be a me-tooer), to help those who are less fortunate (as kids we had penpals in third world countries that we sent letters and money to), to give a helping hand to those who need help (we took in friends who were having difficulty and gave money to causes we believed in…Ann and I both put money in the collection plate at Mass every Sunday), to have compassion for people whose circumstances have not been as blessed as our own, to stay informed about what is going on in the world (I was probably only ten years old when my Dad brought me to see Gerald Ford speak at the Brown County Memorial Arena), to be the change I want to see in the world. Every single day I am grateful to have been raised by parents who believed in me and taught me these things at a very young age, and I hope that I will be as good at passing on these messages to my child(ren) as they were. The world is going to keep on changing, and I want to teach my son the tools he needs to change it for the better… as my parents did for me.

The Baby Bump Revealed

When my boss called me in for my annual performance review, I sat down across from him and rested my forearms on his desk. I was a nervous wreck. Not because I thought I had “performed” badly this past year, but because I knew it was time to tell him about my growing baby bump. We went over my performance evaluation, and he said a lot of reassuring things that made me less anxious about my upcoming maternity leave. (Do all women get anxious about the security of their jobs before they go on maternity leave?) Then he asked me if there was anything else I wanted to talk about.

"Yes," I said, and I looked back over my shoulder towards the door of his office. He sat up a little straighter in his chair. “I don’t know if Randy told you what all my doctor’s appointments were about?” {Randy was my boss before him.)

“No.” He shuffled the papers on his desk.

“Then this might be a little surprising, but... I’m pregnant."

He didn’t take his eyes off mine.

“Well, congralulations.”

“I’ve been anxious for my review so I could tell you."

“Well, that’s no big deal. We can work around that.”

And then he changed the subject.

So... the deed is done. The boss knows about the baby bump, and it feels great. Now I don't care who gossips about me at work, and I don't have to worry about trying to hide the bump. The cat is out of the bag.

My Weekend Retreat

I spent my weekend in the most idyllic setting surrounded by the rolling wooded hills and farmlands of western Wisconsin. I volunteered to watch my friend Sarah’s ranch while she traveled out of town for her sister’s wedding, and I spent the weekend watching the horses graze in the pasture out back, walking Tasha and Max (her dogs) down the quarter mile long driveway several times to get some exercise, and reading her collection of pregnancy magazines while sunning my baby bump on her back deck. It was an absolutely gorgeous weekend, and the only noises I heard were the wind in the trees, a couple dozen species of birds, and the occasional snort of one of the horses. (And for ten minutes on Saturday night, Dave and Stacy flew overhead to buzz me just before sunset.) It was blissful and relaxing and rejuvenating. I even saw two new mommies: a turkey hen with her five little ones and a large doe with her two tiny spotted fawns. It won't be long before my baby bump becomes my son, and after such a weekend I’m starting to feel really good about my decision to move to the area.

By Request - A Current Photo of The Baby Bump---STAY TUNED