Worry of the Day: Are My Pants Hurting the Baby?

Time for a particularly crazy one, folks.

So at 23 weeks, I'm firmly in the full panel-style maternity pants, but today I decided to do a throwback to the "half panel" that I wore in the first trimester.

Bad. Freaking. Idea.

The pants have been cutting me mid-bump and now I'm convinced that my bump looks smaller today than it has lately. And if I'm correctly identifying the bean's little kicks, then I am being kicked IN THE WAISTBAND. The baby is clearly not digging me going back in time on pants.

Which got me thinking ... could I be hurting the baby with my clothing choices? Am I denting my ute with what I chose to wore today? More importantly, did I really just type that?!

Off to go put on some pajama pants ... and to knock some sense into my dumb self.

First Tri Friday: The Phrase That Will Save Your Sanity

In the throes of one of many near panic attacks in my first trimester, I searched online for a way to calm down. And I found pregnancy affirmations.

It's a little hippy dippy, new agey, but it worked wonders for me. The theory is that if you repeat a phrase or mantra to yourself enough your subconscious will eventually catch on to the mantra and you'll begin to believe it.

The magic phrase?

MY BODY KNOWS EXACTLY WHAT IT'S DOING.

Instead of wondering how it's possible that x is happening inside you, or feeling like you have to will yourself to have a healthy pregnancy, just let go. Trust your body to do its thing. If the pregnancy is viable, your body will most likely do its job to maintain it because ... Say it with me ...

My body knows exactly what it's doing.

Here's to a happy, chilled out weekend for all.

I Miss Sudafed, Still Scared of Tylenol

Sorry for the delay in posting. I have a nasty cold/stomach bug combo deal that's kept me pretty sidelined. I never realized how much I love Sudafed until I couldn't have it any more.

Not that I'm considering taking any, no matter how desperate I may get.

From the beginning I've been pretty much terrified of taking anything OTC, even when my own friggin' doctor tells me to do so. For example, she says Tylenol is A-OK while pregnant. But all I can do is imagine that foreign substance creeping through me and into my little bean. What if I'm the one with a babe who's allergic to the stuff? Or what if it contributes to some sort of disease? Maybe doctors don't really know whether Tylenol is safe and they just think it's a good bet!

Clearly, I've lost it, but this is nothing new.

So I'm suffering through this monster bug, sipping a Coke for my nausea and trying not to worry about the 32 mg of caffeine (yep, I looked it up) or whatever other baddies might be lurking inside. Also trying not to stress about the fact that I've been using the Neil Med squeeze bottle for my sinus pain and pressure. It's just saline (like in a Neti Pot) but I refuse to Google it and freak myself out. I'm sure it's fine.

Did I really just say that? Talk about progress.

Hope everyone else is hanging in there and fighting off change-of-season colds. Hopefully it'll be truly spring soon!

Complaint of the Day: My Bloodhound Nose

I'm putting my worries aside today to complain instead. Hello, pregnancy hormones! I'm only feeling tiny kicks intermittently these days and haven't felt one in a while, come to think of it … but I'm going to put that worry aside for now in favor of some bitching. How's that for progress?

Like many of my fellow pregs, my sense of smell has become insanely acute, pretty much since the day I got my positive test. And just when I thought it couldn't get any more sensitive, it did.

My husband says I should intern with police dogs.

But for some reason, my olfactory prowess when there's a pleasant smell in the vicinity does not appear to be any better. I only smell the foul stuff.

Sometimes I'll be on the subway and need to cover up my mouth and nose, so intense is the stench coming from somewhere in the car. And yet, no one else seems to notice. I'm starting to think I'm picking up an unpleasant odor from the day before. That's how sensitive my nose has become.

Take what's going on now for example. I'm sitting on an Amtrak train to Virgina where I'm visiting one of my best friends (who's taking me to register at Buy Buy Baby … I'll report back on that adventure later). After a pleasant journey from New York City to Philadelphia, my contentment has been shattered.

A woman who boarded there told me she was directed to sit in 3C. There are no assigned seats on Amtrak, mind you. I told her as much, but she sat down anyway.

AND SHE REEKS OF CIGARETTE SMOKE.

I really don't know how I'm going to make it all the way to Virginia. I feel like I'm suffocating in another person's odors … and now that I've written those words, my nausea has returned. I may need to switch seats by Delware.

To make matters worse, this is not my usual, Quiet Car-equipped Northeast Regional Train. This is a "Carolinian," and apparently, the staff think they're cops. I was directed to sit in a certain car, deterred from sitting in certain "party of two" designated seats, and scolded for putting my bag down on the seat next to me while it was still unoccupied and we were careening through New Jersey, clearly not picking up any passengers who might need the seat.

WTF, Amtrak? Where's the southern hospitality up in this car?

Update to come later when I throw this woman's stinky coat off the moving train or give these asshat Amtrak employees a firsthand look at pregnant rage. 

Worry of the Day: Will I Ever Be (Hormonally) Normal Again?

I almost cried at the nail salon today. True story. After a totally routine, normal OB appointment (the best kind), I decided to treat myself to a manicure. Choosing my polish was quite a task ... I probably stood in front of the wall of colorful little bottles for a good five minutes before picking a variation on my usual color.

And instead of relaxing through the mani—one of my main reasons for going in the first place—I fretted. I came up with everything new that I have to worry about in my pregnancy now that it's four weeks 'til the next OB appointment and I've got no ultrasound in sight.

At some point in the process, I got a little nick on my middle finger and imagined all the horrible infections that could result.

But the real hormonal whammy came when I decided I did not like the color I'd chosen. As my technician painted it on, I actually had to fight back tears. Over a nail color.

And so it goes in the land of crazy pregnant hormones. One minute you're a mess and the next you decide that maybe a coat of subtle silver sparkles will save you from weeping at the nail salon and voila! the mood improves.

Here's hoping we won't be crazy forever, mamas ...

The end result ^

Worry of the Day: Oh F*#%, I Just Ate ...

There's no way our mothers went through this, right?

Back in the 80s, women weren't worried about a long list of foods that they were banned from eating for 40 weeks. They just cut back on their booze and their smokes, and look how well we all turned out, right?

Of course, this means nothing when I'm faced with the panic of, "I just ate ____!"

Here's a small sampling of the foods to avoid that I've eaten while pregnant ... and then freaked out about.

-Roast beef
-Smoked salmon
-A box of popsicles while sick (not an actual no-go, but my nutritionist says to avoid food dyes, pregnant or not)
-A bag of Luden's while sick (see above)
-Bacon (I don't know, something about nitrates?)
-Coke (only thing that helps my heartburn)
-A teeny, tiny, practically microscopic sip of an alcoholic beverage at 7 weeks (we weren't telling people yet and a relative asked me to taste a cocktail she'd made ... I faked it as best I could)
-Mexican-style cheese that fall into the bad category
-Cookie dough (how do you take this away from a pregnant woman?)
-Chicken salad made in a store (the only protein-rich sandwich filling that appeals to me)

Reality check: I'm sure it would be very, very bad to get listeria, E Coli, Salmonella or some sort of awful mercury poisoning while pregnant. Or EVER. But the best we can do is just to be careful and follow the guidelines that your doctor provides. And by doctor, I mean your OB, NOT Dr. Google. Because that bitch tells me I can't get my nails done, wear perfume, have any fun, or look nice.

I'm pretty sure you could search your way to a reason not to do/eat/drink absolutely anything while pregnant. So K.I.S.S. (keep it simple, stupid), trust your OB, and be as careful as you can. And eat a cookie. You're pregnant, stupid, you deserve it. And I can't find anything wrong with those.

A Laugh ... and a Confession

Happy Monday, fellow neurotic mamas. Seems like people are enjoying the Worry of the Day posts, so I'm thrilled. Thank you so much for reading! As much as we all need to indulge our worries, I'm going to start adding in a little variety as well.

Because, let's face it, worrying is tiring.

And really, isn't it healthy to take a break now and again and partake in some distraction? I'll be sharing the helpful tips for relaxation and pregnancy stress-relief I've come across, along with some distracting laughs. Like this quote, which I just adore.


“Life is tough enough without having someone kick you from the inside.” – Rita Rudner

Even though we worriers love -- or are eagerly awaiting -- those reassuring baby kicks, I'm sure they won't be so pleasant as our babes get bigger. Thanks to Poppy Montgomery who shared this gem on her pregnancy blog!

... (10 minutes later) Aren't I cute, being all, "let's laugh today! Take a break from the worries!" Here's my latest: I changed my signature on The Bump from my ovulation chart (which has been up there since we began TTC) to a link to this blog.

And now I'm completely terrified I've jinxed myself by doing so. Here we go again. If anyone else has fun/funny quotes, please share 'em in comments! Off to go distract myself now ...

Worry of the Day: The F Word

No, not THAT F word. I'm talking about fat. As in, I am getting.

It's trivial, for sure, and it's not really a worry so much as a reality. I also feel like I should be nothing but happy and grateful to be pregnant, so fretting about gaining weight makes me feel guilty. But I do.

Especially when my sweatpants are now tight. My sweatpants! The pants that are supposed to be loose and easy and make you feel deliciously lazy when you wear them.

Time to invest in a men's pair. With a forgiving drawstring.

Reality Check: Eating donuts and pizza only makes you feel worse. 

Worry of the Day: Is the Baby Still in There?

Boy, this worry is a doozy, isn't it? Personally, this fear has plagued me since the very beginning of my pregnancy. And despite some telltale signs that my little one is, in fact, still inside me, I have yet to stop fretting. More on that ridiculousness later.

**Quick disclaimer: I am well aware that all too many women experience an actual loss of pregnancy and I don't want to offend anyone with the tone of this post. I truly feel for anyone who's been through that. My intent here is to provide some relatable feelings (and maybe even some laughs) about this common pregnancy worry, even for those of us who have been lucky enough to have complication-free pregnancies.

Before getting pregnant, we've all had those dreams about peeing on a stick and coming up with two beautiful, hopeful pink lines. I had that dream more than once before actually getting to see those two lines outside of my subconscious.

So it's only natural that we can start to doubt ourselves about actually being pregnant in the first place. This went on for several weeks for me, but the perplexing thing became how much I continued to worry about it later on.

I was able to get early visual confirmation of my little bean via ultrasound at 7 weeks, then again at 8 weeks (due to a minor spotting scare ... that's a whole 'nother post) and yet again at 12 weeks. But I always had that niggling doubt that he or she wasn't really there any more.

It's the most bizarre thing, isn't it, to see your little one on the screen in the doctor's/radiologist's office but not be able to feel a darn thing? I just went to my 20-week anatomy scan and I swear, I held my breath as they squeezed the gel on my belly and only relaxed once I saw our babe onscreen.

Before you start feeling your baby move, there's a total disconnect about what's going inside of you. I mean, how could there possibly be a lime/plum/orange/(insert your baby's fruit comparison here) inside of you and you have little to no confirmation of its existence? My husband finds this worry particularly funny, but to me, it's actually got some legs.

Remember how I described your uterus as being a previously unoccupied vessel for the past 20-30-some years? Well, now it's got a little person LIVING INSIDE IT. And other than nausea, tiredness and a bloodhound-like sense of smell, you've got no actual proof that it's really there.

See? Pretty logical that we worry about this after all.

Reality check: All I've got for you on this one is that you're not crazy. Some days you feel pregnant, some you don't, so you will likely worry about this. And for those who haven't had all the early ultrasounds that I have, more power to you. I think I'd be condemned to the funny farm by now if it weren't for those reassuring scans. So if you're early in your pregnancy, just do your best to relax. Whatever will be, will be, and your worrying about it won't change the outcome. And despite the scary percentages about the m-word, the odds really are in your favor. So get some ice cream, have your significant other rub your feet, or indulge in a guilty pleasure TV marathon. Just don't let Dr. Google drive you crazy.

And if it helps, there's this. I was in the car today, worrying for the umpteenth time whether it's normal that I don't feel much movement yet, when I yawned (out of sheer exhaustion from all the worry, I'm sure). Then it happened. For the very first time, I felt two little taps on the lower right side of my belly. And those sweet little kicks have kept me smiling -- and temporarily NOT worrying -- all day.

Worry of the Day: Disappearing Symptoms

Let's call this a "First Tri Friday," as this was one of my regular first trimester worries. Not that I'm done worrying about it. Pssh. Never done worrying.

Beginning for me around week 6 or so, my boobs were incredibly sore, all the time—a common first trimester complaint.  Putting on or taking off a bra was a torturous experience, and if anyone or anything were to brush against my chest I'd lash out like a caged animal.

So.

When I woke up one day, 'round about the 9-week mark, and my boobs didn't hurt anymore, I reacted like any rational neurotic and worried mom-to-be. And I freaked the f- out.

Instead of being, ya know, grateful to no longer be in pain, I took it as a sign that something had gone horribly wrong and this was a sign of imminent doom. (Notice a pattern here? Always with the imminent doom!) And instead of enjoying my brief, pain-free respite, I worried away the few days where my girls felt like their old selves again. I may have even jumped around my bedroom, braless, to try to bring back the soreness.

If I wasn't a crazy before, I definitely am now.

Reality check: Of course, the oddly reassuring boob soreness came back, and my other symptoms have come and gone throughout my pregnancy so far. We're not machines, we're human beings, after all. And hormones play by their own rules. That's why some days I bust out crying because my husband looks at me funny, and other days I feel like skipping down the street because the sun came out and it's above 40 degrees. And so it goes.

Love and good vibes,
R