When 'Perfect' Isn't (part 1)

Another sleepless night. I've had a number of them during this pregnancy. Micha lost his job just a little over a month after we found out we were expecting. Needless to say, worrying about our finances has kept me up a few nights. But last night it wasn't money that was troubling me.

With Charlie I became convinced that my Ob/GYN's favorite word was 'perfect'. Everything was always 'perfect'. Funny word; perfect. I used to hate the word 'perfect' because of all the pressure and preconceived notions that accompany it. Now, I'd give anything to hear it.

Scarlet's first ultrasound was May the 8th. That was the first time Dr. McFarlane didn't say "Everything looks perfect." Instead, he told us that measurements of Scarlett's left and right ventricles of her brain didn't match. He assured us that this was not uncommon and that, often, it resolves itself. He scheduled us for a follow up sonogram 3 weeks later. I was a little uneasy leaving the appointment but Micha reassured me. I forced myself not to Google anything for fear I might find something totally horrifying but Micha did and told me he was even less worried than before.

Three weeks passed and Micha and I went back. While we waited for the results, we joked "What if your doctor entered the room like Cramer? Would you go back to him?" We made bets about whether the hair the sonographer spotted on the ultrasound was red. I was so certain that Dr. McFarlane would come in and tell us that everything looked 'perfect'. But he didn't. He told us that we'd be sent to see a specialist and encouraged us to have an amniocenteses, if that was the recommendation. I was so shocked, I couldn't process what he was saying. I couldn't ask any questions. I just sat there nodding and blinking and trying to breath. As Micha drove me home, I silently screamed at God "I hate you for this" like a petulant teenager.

Truth be told, I've been angry with Him for some time now. I've prayed and prayed about Micha's employment situation. The longer he's gone without a job, the more unfair the whole situation seems. We're grateful for our lives, the blessings in them. We didn't take for granted our children, our home or even our jobs. We didn't deserve this. Was it really too much to ask to just enjoy the excitement of our new baby? Our last baby? And now, this? I am supposed to have normal, healthy, perfect, clinically very boring pregnancies. I am one of those women who could just have my baby in the bathtub at home because I am so low risk. So why is this happening? But as the week went by and I spoke with Micha and my Mom, I became more and more confident that everything was going to be fine.

Someone stole my ass

A few weeks ago I was fresh out of the shower and slathering moisturizer on when I caught my reflection in the mirror and discovered; someone has stolen my ass. The ass in the mirror was not one I recognized and therefore could not have been mine. I have no idea when the theft occurred because my maternity pants and unders all still fit and my husband still says it looks great. But I am telling you, that ass is not my ass.

With my first pregnancy I stayed ridiculously small. I was 19 and had the metabolism of a rabbit. I didn't even buy maternity clothes because even at 9 months, I could still see my toes.With my second pregnancy, 14 years later I obviously started out weighing more than I had at 19. I ate well and continued to walk and do yoga nearly every evening, so I stayed in relatively good shape. After I had Charlie though, I really fell off working out. With this pregnancy, I've eaten horribly and I've walked or done yoga maybe twice. Sometimes, I suck at life. Luckily, tomorrow is a new day. 

Mover, Shaker and a Dress Maker??

Lying awake at 4am (because that's what time I have to get up to go pee) on March 28th, I got to feel the first flutters of Baby Bear moving. Now if I pay attention after I eat, I can feel him/her kicking around on a pretty regular basis. About a week later, on April 4th, Micha got to feel the baby kick. Pretty good for something about the size of a turnip.

Also, I have a confession to make. I sent the following text to my bestie:

"I hate bitches that look put together at Target. I look like I just came from the gym except instead of glowing and tone, I'm sweaty and giggly. And this bitch has the nerve to come in looking like she just came from her personal stylists house."

Now do I really hate the woman in Target who looks totally cute in a casual and Pinterest-worthy way? No. My actually reaction to seeing her was try and get as far away from her as humanly possible so as not to look even worse by comparison. And it certainly wasn't her fault that unlike me, she took the time to put some effort into her appearance, while I was busy cleaning and trying to get ready for a house full of Easter Sunday guests. I can't really blame my appearance on Easter Sunday or my usual domestic duties or even pregnancy. If I'm being perfectly honest, I've been in a bit of a slump for awhile now. I don't have to dress nice for work so I don't dress up.. or wear make-up... or brush my hair for that matter. I'd just rather be sleeping. Actually, if I could sleep in and still arrive at my destination looking effortlessly fresh and cute, as if by magic, that would be great. The best of both worlds. Of course, I was painfully aware of my style slump upon sending a text that offended my own sense of feminism (and really rationality). So I decided I needed style rehab.

Now for those of you reading this that are all "I'm a Mom, that's what I care about and I'm fine with looking however I look blah, blah, blah...", congratulations on being more self-evolved than I am. Seriously. I just happen to be at a point in my life where I feel better when I look better. From time-to-time, I find myself feeling blah or frumpy and it typically ends with me cutting all my hair off. Since I'm trying to grow my hair out, I thought I'd start with some cute clothes. Ha haha ha ha! I forgot that all maternity clothes (that aren't ridiculously expensive) are just sacks. Big sacks for shirts and even bigger sacks for dresses. There are two color options; giant floral print or black. If you want something more figure flattering, you can get your sack with a draw-string just under the bust. So Kim Kardashian, if you are out there somewhere reading this, I get why you are hesitant to plunge into maternity wear. It's ugly. It even sounds ugly. I was shopping online and looking at shirts that were being referred to as "Slub Maternity T-Shirt". I'm fairly certain that immediately upon putting on the 'slub' t-shirt, the wearer would have the overwhelming desire to eat a gallon of ice cream directly from the carton while watching a horrible LifeTime movie starring Meredith Baxter-Brooks.Nothing that isn't pajamas should be called 'slub'.