well i’m finally on my way. almost 6 months pregnant now :) 11 months ago

Ahh… now I get why pregnancy is so hard. It’s not much fun anymore. I’m a lot heavier and my back hurts and I’ve got constant heartburn.

I want juice, more than anything, juice. Any sort of cold juice. Apple, cranberry, blueberry, aloe….

I’ve got a low grade headache, my leg hurts. I’m tired of my expanding belly (even the doctor agrees it’s quite big) being the topic of conversation—of every conversation.

Luckily, the bright light is that the renos at our house are almost complete and will be with four weeks to spare before baby. We still have to get basics like furniture and diapers—but even if the baby was born today, we’d be just fine. 19 months ago

‘m at 33 weeks and my handy pregnancy app tells me it’s time to write a birth plan. What is a birth plan you might ask; well I’m asking the same question.

A birth plan is, according to babycentre.ca: “a way of communicating with the midwives, doctors, and nurses who care for you in labour. It tells them about the kind of labour you would like to have, what you want to happen and what you definitely want to avoid.”

I thought most communication when I was in labour would be pretty old fashioned. “Does it hurt?” “Yup, it hurts.” But now I need to write a birth plan about the type of labour I would like to have. Like to have? Do I get a say in the end?

It’s pretty easy. I’d like to wake up in the morning and realize that I’m having gentle little contractions. I’d stay at home and hang out while that first stage of labour moves along. At some point, I’d call my husband and we’d head to the hospital. No dramatics. Maybe we’d stop for a hot chocolate on the way….

Read the rest at: http://hollyiswhere.blogspot.com/2011/10/writing-birth-plan.html 19 months ago

I think when my mom was pregnant with me, people might have started conversations asking if she was pregnant. Or perhaps when she was due. That must have snuck into modern etiquette as bad manners. But I’m not sure the alternative is much better. The only question I get asked is, “Do you know what it is?”

It’s so odd. At first I’d look around in a bit of fear and wonder, “Oh god, what IS it? Where is IT?” before I realized they were referring to my expanding waistline.

I’ve gotten used to it, particularly as my thoroughly pregnant waistline says more than any clever t-shirt could. I’m so tempted to answer, “I hope to hell it’s a baby, because if not it’s a hell of a tumour!” Instead I usually say, “Oh, our parents don’t want to know so we’re not telling anyone until it’s born.”

I could lie. But why? Does anyone need to know? Really? What does it matter? The next question will be about names—and frankly, I’m not willing to talk about baby names on the train, in line at Starbucks or anywhere else…

Read the rest of my entry here:
http://hollyiswhere.blogspot.com/2011/09/what-is-it.html 20 months ago

So I’m in the third trimester. I have 98 days left. The baby is practicing its dance moves all day. My pyjamas don’t fit anymore.

Strangers have started to touch my belly (don’t touch a pregnant woman’s belly unless she asks you too!)

I keep going to the doctor expecting some shocking or bad news and keep getting the same answer—“Everything is normal and healthy, just keep doing what you are doing.”

I’ve had problems buying baby clothes because I don’t believe the baby will be small enough to fit any of them. But I think I’m getting over that. Thank goodness I know the gender of the baby—it makes clothes shopping a bit easier. 21 months ago