Feeling hot, hot, hot

Most people consider Memorial Day the official start of summer, but I think summer arrived down here awhile ago, Like I mentioned in my last post, it is getting super hot. I think the thermometer in my car was reading 94 in the shade today.

I’m already having a lot of trouble dealing with the heat, which scares me because it’s only going to get worse in the next few months. It typically doesn’t start cooling down significantly until late September or early October, by which point this baby will already be born (I hope).

Keeping cool is proving to be a challenge. So far, I’ve found a spot on the couch directly under the air vent for the AC (it might be the coolest spot in the house), which is where I park myself when I’m not at work. I have stocked my freezer with popsicles, I have invested in several lightweight maternity tank tops, and I pretty much always have my thermal tumbler of ice water next to me. We have a pool in our neighborhood, but I’ve yet to find a maternity swimsuit that A) I actually like and B) doesn’t cost an arm and a leg.

Of course all of this is only good when I’m not at work or running errands. The real challenge is during the weekdays, when I’m in and out of the heat all day long. You can only make business professional so cool, especially when you have to wear dress shoes. I’ve already decided to put popsicles in the breakroom freezer, and I’m considering buying a personal mister/fan. I’ll even wear it around my neck if I can get away with it.

No one in my family has ever been uber pregnant (like me) in the middle of the summer, so mamas of late summer/early fall babies who have been there, what did you do to beat the heat?

I hope everyone is having a fabulous Memorial Day, and a special thanks goes out to all the mommys and daddys out there who have served our country :).

Nursery dreams

Ever since we’ve moved into to the new place, and especially since we found out Baby A is a girl, the nursery has been a constant source of both agony and excitement. Agony because I have no idea where to start with it; excitement because, well, I get to decorate a nursery. But it has been extremely stressful to figure out how I want to do that.

This is what the room that will serve as the nursery looks like now.

As you can see, it’s still very much in transition. We put a lot of stuff in it while moving to get it out of the way, and it has been a very slow process getting it out. My goal for the long weekend is to finish emptying it of non-baby related things. Right now, the only things in the room that are staying there are the rocker by the door (you can kind of see the top of it directly to the right), which will go by the window, and the bookcase on the opposite wall. Both of these items hold a lot of sentimental value: My mom rocked me (and my brothers) in the rocker, and my dad built the bookshelf which I had used all my life.

(This room mostly stays closed, so every time the door opens our little cat, Harleaux, likes to take advantage of the jungle gym within.)

I know I want to do something that isn’t necessarily baby-ish, I’d really like it to be a room with a versatile enough theme we could adapt for at least a few years. This leaves out things like Winnie-the-Pooh or Peter Rabbit. I have no desire for characters anyway. What I really want is something clean, maybe even a little sophisticated, but still reminiscent of childhood. It’s taken a little while, but I’ve finally narrowed down what will serve as my inspiration for the nursery.

I saw this on Pinterest a few weeks ago and immediately fell in love with it. It’s very DIY, but easy enough I think I can handle it. I love the how it feels very classic and sophisticated, but you can still make it fun and playful by using different sized circles and fun fabrics. I plan on using one of my grandmother’s handkerchiefs in one circle and fabric from a dress my noni made in another to also keep it sentimental.

And after much deliberation and visits to Babies R’ Us, I’ve decided I want to go with a spindle crib, probably this one or something similar.

I also really love something like this for the wall over the changing table.

Using black and white family photos, vintage prints, silhouettes, etc.

I also want to refinish the bookshelf and paint it white, which I’ve never done. I’m sure that will be a huge project for me in and of itself.

It’s nice to finally have a plan for how I want things to go in her nursery. It’s a little project intensive, so I’m hoping to start on some things in the next couple of weeks. Even though it isn’t technically summer, we’re already having 90+ days, so I’m moving a lot slower, even in the AC. I figure if I start now, maybe I’ll actually have everything done by my due date. If I’m particularly motivated, maybe even before!

At least, that’s the goal.

Perspective

I’ve always been a pretty whiny person. I complain a lot, and I have a low threshold for discomfort and pain, so you can imagine how awful it’s been to be around me for the 5 months. But, sometimes things happen that jar you back to reality.

Last week I read on Facebook that an acquaintance of mine from college has cancer. I don’t know her that well, but we had the same major so we were often in the same classes, and we traveled to Europe together with a group a people the summer after junior year at LSU. Mostly, she is someone I passively pay attention to on my news feed, which given the circumstances, now sounds horrible.

Generally speaking, humans (myself included), like to think we live in a bubble where bad things can’t happen to us.  It’s always shocking when someone young is diagnosed with an illness like cancer. It’s even more shocking when it’s someone you know. Things like this pop that imaginary bubble and really make you realize crappy things don’t discriminate who they affect.

So I have spent the past few days being thankful. Thankful for my backaches, my sore arm, my heartburn, my exhaustion, because all of these things mean I have a baby growing inside me. And I am so very blessed for that.

If you are interested, she is blogging here. Her first couple of posts have been extremely inspiring, and I highly recommend giving it a read.

Touch the belly and die

A few weeks ago I wrote this, which judging by my stats has been my most popular post thus far (so, you know, go re read it, leave some love and send it on to other pregnant parties should you be so inclined). Number 5 was one I hadn’t actually been asked or experienced, but I knew from others it was one that had to be on there.

Well I’ve experienced it now. Last week at work, my belly got touched for the first time by a client, and I wish she had extended me the courtesy of asking. It was probably one of the most awkward experiences I’ve ever had. It almost seemed to happen in slow motion. We were saying goodbye, and she just reached across the small gap between us and patted my baby bump. Mind you, I had just met this woman maybe 10 minutes prior to this happening. By all means, she was more of a complete stranger I was beginning a work relationship with than even an acquaintance.

I’m not sure why pregnancy is so bizarre. What makes people think that such a blatant violation of personal space is okay, much less wanted? In some ways, I almost felt violated. Part of me really wanted to reach out and touch HER stomach, but I’m not really in the mood for a harassment issue at the moment.

But if it’s not socially acceptable to do while someone is not pregnant, why would someone think it’s okay when you are pregnant? Last time I checked, I didn’t sign anything that said people had the right to be really invasive about my personal life and body just because I decided to procreate. And if someone is going to touch my stomach without permission, they could at least buy me dinner first. Or a milkshake.

Or maybe I just need to invest in a shirt that says, “Hands off, someone beat you to it.”

20 week update

Last week marked 20 weeks pregnant, meaning we are officially halfway through this pregnancy. WOO!

I’ve had a theory going for awhile now that time actually slows down when you’re pregnant. You know when you’re a kid, and it feels like you’re constantly waiting to grow up and for something to happen? And then you do grow up and time starts to go super fast. Well, I’ve found pregnancy is a lot like being a kid again. There’s a lot of things you are no longer able to do and time creeps by.

Case in point, I’ve been pregnant 20 (21, really) weeks now, and I feel like I’ve been pregnant for about 2 years. I have subscribed to  several of those “how big is your baby this week” newsletters, and when I read “Your baby is about 10 ounces!” I just think, “ONLY 10 OUNCES?! I feel like I’m carrying a small ham in there!” It’s ridiculous. On one hand I’m like, “Yeah, halfway there!” but on the other it’s more like, “You mean I’m only halfway there?” Cue sad violins.

I know I should be thankful, and I am. I have had a very low-risk and healthy pregnancy thus far (knock on wood), and I know many women would kill to be in my position right now. So I am very, very thankful. Even if I do whine a lot about backaches and hip pain.

So yeah, halfway done!

In other news, I go to the doctor next week. One thing is for certain, this is the first time in my life I’ve actually looked forward to doctor’s appointments. I’m curious to see how much weight I’ve gained. At my last visit (18 weeks), I had finally started gaining weight BACK after losing it my first trimester, and I was up about 2 pounds over my pre-pregnancy weight. I definitely feel like I’ve gained a crap ton more, which probably means I’ve only gained another pound. The one time in my life it’s wanted and needed to gain weight, and my body won’t do it easily. Typical.

Happy Mother’s Day

So far my unofficial first mother’s day is going quite swimmingly. John made me breakfast, and later we are going to brunch with both his mom and my mom. Now, he’s out running errands to get everything together for our a after-brunch dessert we are hosting at our house. I can’t wait to celebrate this day with Baby A next year.

Anyhoo, I just wanted to take a quick moment this morning to wish a very Happy Mother’s Day to all the beautiful mamas and mama-to-bes out there! I hope you all have a lovely day filled with love and laughter.

And if you aren’t pregnant, drink a mimosa or two for me at brunch.

My biggest fear realized

I had plans to write about Baby A’s nursery, now that I’ve finally found inspiration for it, but today I’m going to write about something a little off topic.

As I’ve said before, my husband is a pilot. As a contract/corporate pilot, he flies a lot of planes, one of which being a Cessna 210, a small single-engine. This morning, that airplane crashed.

Before I go further, HE IS OKAY. The only passenger on the plane with him is ALSO OKAY. I stress this because as soon as I got the text from him saying “I crashed the plane, but I am okay,” I immediately began freaking out. From what I understand, there was an issue with the landing gear, and he had to declare an emergency. As only half his landing gear was functioning properly, he “veered” off the runway.

This is something I think about every time he goes up, and I usually don’t breathe easy until he lets me know he’s landed safely. It’s not that I don’t trust his flying capabilities, I know what a great pilot he is, it’s just that anything can happen, to anyone, at anytime, and today really proved that point. I’m pretty sure his next few flights are going to be twice as nerve wracking (for me, and maybe a little for him, too).

As far as crashes go, his was pretty tame, and it could have been so much worse, but as a pilot wife, hearing “The plane crashed” is my biggest fear. Today, I am just thankful it was my husband sending the text. I’m also thankful he is as good and well trained as he is. He did everything he needed to do get his passenger and himself down safely.

(And apparently today was a slow news day in Midland, TX. Look, honey, you’re pseudo famous now!)