Not Just Gas

My 24-week belly poses in front of the lake in Winona

Once again, a moment I have to share. Baby is so strong and solid now that his kicks feel like real kicks, and I’ve been feeling him a lot during the last week. I can really feel that it is him in there making those movements and not just gas. But he's still small enough (about a pound an a half) that he's got plenty of room to move around, so there is lots of kicking all over the place.

A few days ago I couldn't believe all that activity was coming from just four limbs, and I asked him if he had invited some friends over for a party. It really is the coolest thing. Yesterday when I felt the kicks I sat at my desk and closed my eyes and put my hand on my belly. The kicks were hard enough that it was possible to feel them with my hand from the outside. Mom says she can remember when she was pregnant with me and she watched my fist pounding on her belly. I don’t have movements that graphic yet, but he’s definitely in there announcing to me very clearly that he’s happy and healthy.

12 more weeks.

Door County Part Two

Taylor, me and Uncle Ron at Cave Point Park

When I got to Door County Friday I did the usual hugs, and I even let Aunt Judy rub my belly. Just a little. We chatted for a little while, all of them giving me their input about names. (Uncle Ron suggested that I name my son Samuel with a middle name that starts with an A so his initials would be S.A.M. I told him that was exactly the joke Jimmy Joe would have told.)

Inside Taylor and I rolled our eyes and watched the circus of the three grandparents cooking, TT and her sister singing and debating over how to make Ann’s famous dill sauce while Uncle Ron escaped outside to grill the fish (your mother’s idea, Johnny). We sat down to a dinner that started with TT’s famous fresh summer salad and ended with Mom raving about the fish and the dill sauce over and over.

“And I don’t even like fish,” she said as she took her fourth piece of tender, pink salmon.

Mom, Uncle Ron, Taylor and Aunt Judy before digging in.

After we were full, we sat and picked at the remains on the serving dishes and mom continued to dip her finger in the dill sauce (“I could put that on the steak tomorrow,” she said). TT and I argued over who would sleep where. She insisted on sleeping on the couch and giving me her bed, telling me that last night she woke up to read at 11, 1, 3, and 5 anyway… and in between those times she got up to pee. “Odds I’d read. Evens I’d pee,” she said. I told her THAT was going on the blog. It seems we're on the same schedule.

The three of them laughed about how this family always enjoys talking about bodily functions and how much fun it’s going to be to teach that to my son. Taylor went to the living room to watch TV, and I rolled my eyes and started washing dishes.

After dinner we sat around a beach bonfire and played a round robin story-writing game that resulted in a tale of a spaceship coming down from the sky so aliens could urinate on our fire and compare the smell of morning breath to a skunk.

The evening ended with Uncle Ron and I sitting by the last embers of the fire while the moon that peeked through the clouds reflected off Lake Michigan. I could hear the waves slapping the nearby shore, and as Uncle Ron told me about the miracles of his grandchildren – the way Taylor focuses at basketball, how he knew how strong Jack was and everything with him would be okay, how Malia brings him to the big front window to watch motorcycles on Ravine Road—my own child put the flutter-flutter-flutter behind him and moved on to his first real firm kicks. Uncle Ron continued to tell stories of Julie and Johnny and Michael and how proud he was of each and every one of his children, and I sat content with my hand resting on my belly feeling the solid kicks that had me imagining a real knee bending and unwinding to connect a foot with its surroundings.

Earlier in the evening Mom and Aunt Judy and Uncle Ron had joked about who the matriarch and patriarch of the family were and who would be in the future, who would outlive who. And as I sat there feeling amazed by my son unwinding to punch and kick, I realized how much I love and enjoy these people, and how much I hope all of them are still around years from now so my son will get to love and enjoy them as much as I do.

Door Dounty 2007

Are these the cutest kids ever, or what?

Our family's annual Door County gathering is one of the highlights of my summer every year. I adore those kids so much, and life around them is full of fun and laughs and curiosity and imagination (and the word "poop"). This year's trip was no exception.


We played in the sun and went to The Farm. TT kept wanting to touch Aunt Barb's belly, and Ann warned the kids to be careful of the baby in Aunt Barb's belly. When TT tried to get the kids to touch it, Zack said, "Are you scared to Sarah?" Neither of them ever did touch my belly, but I got lots of hugs and laughs and memories that I'll cherish forever. Zachary and Sarah make it easy to be excited about being a parent.


See lots of pictures of the whole family on my website.

The Greatest Feeling

I know I just posted earlier this evening (and I won't make a habit of posting so often), but as I sit here watching all the local networks interrupt regular programming to tell us about thunderstorm and tornado warnings all over the area, I can't stop smiling. Baby is really active right now, and that little flutter-flutter-flutter is just the greatest feeling I've ever experienced. It makes me so happy that I have a big grin on my face and tears in my eyes, and since there is nobody here to see it, I just had to tell you all about it.

The Coke Effect Without the Coke

Imagine you have just chugged at least half a can of Coke (and, yes, in the black and white world I live in, the world in which I am all the way left and not even partially moderate, it has to be Coke, not Pepsi…. Blame it on the fact that I grew up drinking ice cold Coke from 16 ounce glass bottles). So you’ve just finished swallowing at least 4 ounces of bubbly Coke and your stomach is an eruption waiting to happen. You know that feeling where you have to force yourself NOT to burp, where it hurts if you don’t burp? Well, now imagine feeling like that all day long no matter what you eat or drink.

Apparently the new digestive symptoms of the second trimester have arrived. I spent the day suppressing air that seemed determined to make its way from my now much higher stomach up into my esophagus and out my mouth. Lovely.

I’m also finding that my new changing shape is creating interesting physical challenges. Last week’s 20-week OB visit showed a total weight gain of 13 pounds. You wouldn't think 13 pounds would make that big a difference in mobility, but it's where that 13 pounds is concentrated that makes everything so tricky. My entire digestive system is pushed way up and my diaphragm is compressed, and my center of gravity is shifted forward. It makes anything physical a little more challenging... on both my back and on my lungs. I’m starting to notice that I get out of breath much easier, and reaching for things or squatting for things requires more exertion than it used to. Even turning around to back out of a parking spot is quite uncomfortable. And I still have at least 15 weeks to go!

This coming weekend I’ll be on the beach in Door County building sand sculptures with my niece and nephew and showing off my stunning maternity swimsuit. (In case it’s not obvious, that is meant to be facetious.) At least out there nobody will care about the Coke effect. As a matter of fact, knowing my family, they’ll actually try to compete with me. I can’t wait!!! (And that I did not mean facetiously.)

Family Pictures

Baby's First 20-week Picture

My first views of Baby were amazing. He was laying head down on his right side, his feet bent up towards his face, one hand in front of him and the other arm constantly moving back and forth between his belly and his mouth and his forehead. Once in a while he'd put his arm up over his head and rest his elbow across his face. His little chin was moving, and he practiced swallowing, and once in a while his whole head would bob. Just as he always is around this time of day (10am), he was wide awake and kicking. The ultrasound technician had barely finished saving the first image and labeling all the parts of Baby's first picture when he kicked his foot into the center of the screen and announced himself.

"Look at that toe," the technician said. "He's got a long second toe. Now that's not from you. Who is that from?" I told her how just a month ago I was subjected to a foot comparison because my mother and my sister and my sister's daughter all have that long second toe. I have my dad's short square boxy feet.

"They say that a long second toe is a sign of intelligence," the technician said.

"That's what my mother always says, but I'm not buying it."

She told me that she had an Indian couple in once, and they said that in their culture the long second toe was a sign of sneakiness.

"That I buy."

She snapped a picture of the toe and labeled it for TT.

Grandma's Second Toe

After that the technician fell into a rhythm, talking the entire time, narrating what she was doing as she looked at the hands and feet, measured the diameter of the skull and the tummy, looked at all his little boy parts and his kidney and his bladder. He really resisted letting us see his little fingers, keeping his hands clenched tightly with only his thumb and index finger extended. But because I had a CVS which can sometimes result in missing digits if it's not done properly, she was determined to see every little bone in his hands and fingers. She even banged on my belly a few times.

"Come on Buddy. Open up and let us see those fingers."

Then just like that he fell asleep. So she abandoned the search for his little pinky and decided that while he was sleeping would be a good time to look at the heart in detail. She spent a lot of time looking at the chambers of the heart and veins and arteries running in and around the heart. She measured blood flow and checked the sizes and shapes of things from all different angles. Heartbeat 136. Total weight 14 ounces. Normal for a second trimester fetus. As he slept he eventually loosened his grip and we were able to count the little digits of all his fingers.


Just before he woke again, the technician got a great shot of his back in which you can even see his left ear and his left shoulder.

Baby's Back As He Sleeps

After we looked at baby, we did a little perusing of the rest of the system...placenta, cervix, etc. It looks like the placenta has placed itself right where the fibroid from my previous surgery was. This is not uncommon, but it means that the c-section will be little riskier than usual. The placenta might have grown into the uterine muscle which could make it difficult to separate it. If bleeding is severe during my c-section, a hysterectomy might be necessary. The perinatologist said that she doesn't want to alarm me, but it's just something I need to be aware of before I go in for my c-section. I also have some large fibroids on my cervix. All in all it looks like Barb is doing this in the nick of time. :) I feel so incredibly lucky to be able to do this. The perinatologist said that these are issues we can deal with pretty easily nowadays. 100 years ago it would have been a very different story. How truly lucky I am. But I do have to go back at 28 weeks for another ultrasound just to keep an eye on things, but we're not anticipating any problems. My little peanut is perfectly healthy and all his parts are growing just as they should.

My Favorite Time of Day

Believe it or not, my favorite time of day has become 9am-11am. And considering that's when I'm sitting at my desk in a gray-green cubicle surrounded by artificial light and white concrete block, it might be hard to understand. But it has become the time of day when Baby says hello to me. Like clockwork every morning at 9am, I first feel him kicking and moving and stretching, letting me know that he's still in there growing and bumping up against me. This morning on my way in I was cranking my PAMFA "Songs We Hate to Love" CD and singing along to Air Supply and The Partridge Family and Prince and Rick Springfield and Looking Glass (Can you figure out what song that is?), hoping to get the little guy to wake up early and give me a little kick like he did last weekend through the entire John Travolta Hairspray song and dance. But nothing. It was just me singing in the Subaru. And once again, as I sit here at my desk looking at a computer screen filled with engineering drawings and complicated chemical formulas, he kicks. "I'm here, Mom. I'm here." I love it.

19 Weeks

Yesterday ticked off another week in the 40 week journey to baby. And since I’ll be delivering by c-section early, 19 weeks is beyond the halfway point for me. Yay!!!

At 19 weeks the baby is about 6 inches long and weighs over half a pound. His arms and legs have caught up and are now in proportion to the rest of his body. His kidneys are functioning. His hair is sprouting. And this is the time when his senses start to develop…his brain is designating special areas for smell, taste, hearing, vision, and touch.

Just this week I started really having what they call “round ligament pain.” This is a strong achiness in my lower abdomen and occasionally sharp, stabbing pains on my sides. These aches and pains are caused by stretching of the muscles and ligaments that support my uterus. I’m getting used to it, but it seems every day something else about my body changes. My skin is drying out as it stretches and my stomach constantly itches. I’m also starting to get the splotchiness and skin changes that are inevitable all over my body. Lots of pretty little capillary veins popping up on my upper thighs. Fun.

Next week I go in for an extensive 20-week ultrasound and I should have some wonderful new pictures of baby to share.

(Again, not my picture at the top of this post. It's from one of the dozens of pregnancy websites that let you track your pregnancy. This is what a 19-week fetus looks like. Very exciting.)