What is it about us Vaicius women? We cannot seem to get through a pregnancy without some sort of oral issues....
I went to a dental specialist today because last week, I was struck down with a raging headache...so painful that my OB actually prescribed Tylenol with codeine. After the headache went away, the root of the problem became evident: a toothache. Great.
The specialist, who was a very nice gentlemanly man, told me that a tooth that I'd previously had a root canal on was infected. What does this mean, you ask? Several things: firstly, I have to treat the infection (which means I have to call my poor OB AGAIN to find out if I can take the antibiotics that will undoubtedly make me sick to my stomach because I'm allergic to penicillin so they have to give me the other stuff); secondly, they may have to re-treat the root canal (which entails them removing the crown and post, going up into the tooth and into the root to clean it out again but may not work because it appears that the canal is blocked). The third option, and probably the BEST and most cost effective scenario, is that they perform a simple surgery to go into the gum and around the tooth and surgically remove the small portion that is currently infected.
So what's the problem, you ask? Why not go for the surgery? Oh, because they have to use a drug that he is pretty certain I cannot take while pregnant.
Lovely. Simply lovely. So for now, I'm going to take the antibiotics in hopes that the abscess is what is causing the tenderness....and hope that the situation will remain stable until I give birth. Can I smack someone now?
Wednesday, January 28, 2009
Sunday, January 25, 2009
Me and My Continent
Hey, have you heard? I have my own continent! And it's rapidly growing...so fast, in fact, that I fear if I blink, it may turn into a planet.
Here's some pics from the other night. We went out to dinner with our wonderful friends Sarafina and TJ (who were so gracious in attempting to convince me that I'm all belly) and then later when we were heading out to brave the horrible stocked shelves in the crowded aisles of both Babies R Us and Target. That's a story for another time, but thankfully, we did manage to get our registries done.
I found myself asking the same question over and over again as we tried to figure out the bottles and the nipples and the carseats and the strollers....why do people do this on purpose? Scott had fun with the little zapper gun but he was not amused to find that there aren't many choices out there for those of us that do not know the gender. Although, I am completely NOT one of those people that go ga-ga over booties and onesies and the like, I have to admit that I did emit a tee-hee or two over those little newborn hats. And Scott found the perfect bedding set at BRU....
Anyway, back to me and my continent...I mean planet....I mean hobbit....
Here's some pics from the other night. We went out to dinner with our wonderful friends Sarafina and TJ (who were so gracious in attempting to convince me that I'm all belly) and then later when we were heading out to brave the horrible stocked shelves in the crowded aisles of both Babies R Us and Target. That's a story for another time, but thankfully, we did manage to get our registries done.
I found myself asking the same question over and over again as we tried to figure out the bottles and the nipples and the carseats and the strollers....why do people do this on purpose? Scott had fun with the little zapper gun but he was not amused to find that there aren't many choices out there for those of us that do not know the gender. Although, I am completely NOT one of those people that go ga-ga over booties and onesies and the like, I have to admit that I did emit a tee-hee or two over those little newborn hats. And Scott found the perfect bedding set at BRU....
Anyway, back to me and my continent...I mean planet....I mean hobbit....
Tuesday, January 20, 2009
Hobbit Update
Although I'm really tempted to post a blog about Obama's inauguration, I'll hold off until tomorrow because it's still currently going on. I will insert this, however: during his inauguration speech this morning, I not only felt like I was a part of history but I also likened the event to how American citizens must've felt when Kennedy was sworn in so many decades ago. It was that poignant. I think this day will be remembered ages from now with the question of "Where were you when Obama took office?" And most everyone will remember.
That being said, Hobbit kicked and stretched and flipped while the President was giving his speech. I'm proud that my child will enter the world in this new era.
OK, on to the Hobbit update. All is going well! Nothing too much to report except weight gain (to which I'm still bothered about). Hobbs (as Stacey has affectionately dubbed it) has been hopping around in there but there's no rhyme or reason to its movements. Last night, we started our first baby class which was definitely fun and informative. This Saturday, we go on our hospital tour and we're probably registering for all the baby goodies this weekend as well. I started looking into pediatricians and filling out my maternity leave forms so that it'll be done when I need to start sending it all in. And of course, I started contemplating making the many lists that I have to make: what to register for, what to pack in the baby bag (besides the bottle of wine to celebrate, lol), baby names, etc, etc, etc. I think I might have to make a list of all the lists I need to make.
It's now officially starting to feel "real". Not saying that it hasn't been real since the first little fetal nudge to this point, but there is a moment where it suddenly becomes an attainable event....something that will be tangible....
Throughout this entire process, I've been fairly even-keeled. I'm not normally overly emotional anyway (there was that horrible hormonal stretch at the start of the second trimester where Scott couldn't say hello without me screeching at him but I'm choosing to forget that teeny tiny lapse of emotional balance) and I'm not really much of a worrier. I'm not bothered by the prospect of giving birth...perhaps because I've been present at one? Not sure....I suppose I just know that the baby's got to come out somehow. I suppose, when we hit March and we're getting the room ready for Hobbit's entrance into the world, it'll then feel overwhelmingly real but I've got to be honest, I'm not the least bit scared, apprehensive, worried....none of it.....it'll happen when it happens and the way it's going to happen.
I'm more so at a happy place. I'm starting to really get energy back. I'm starting to feel normal again (as normal as I can be anyway, which in actuality isn't really normal but hey, you know what I meant). Sure, it'll be weird as hell to be a mom at first but I don't think I'll be the usual mom....yes, I'll change it and feed it and clothe it, but I know I have something unique to offer and I'm kind of looking forward to it.
And hey, if I screw the kid up too much, there's always therapy.
Yesterday, at baby class, there was another fun little gender-predicting moment. There were 13 couples in the class, and of course, we're the only "surprise" to-be-parents. The teacher asks me to stand up so she can guess the gender and proclaims that it's a girl by the way I'm carrying. I then explain that since the start of this pregnancy, nothing has actually pointed toward one sex or the other: yes I crave sweets but I'm all belly. The heart rate is in between, my feet are always cold, my looks haven't been affected, etc, etc, etc. I've heard them all. The Chinese gender chart predicted a girl for one of my friends but then told me a boy when I did it. So why should last night be any different?
Out of the 13 couples in the class, 6 were having girls and 6 were having boys. So, of course, we're the tie-breaker. Scott and I got a little chuckle out of that...this baby is determined to stay a mystery until it finally squeezes it's way out through the vaginal canal and comes shrieking into this world. Strangely enough, I kind of like the whole gender enigma. It makes it so much more exciting when you actually think about giving birth...because you have NO FREAKING CLUE what's going to come out.
I wanted to throw a shout-out to my poor sickie Momma and her sick Momma. I hope you both feel better soon. We love you and we're thinking about you both!
That being said, Hobbit kicked and stretched and flipped while the President was giving his speech. I'm proud that my child will enter the world in this new era.
OK, on to the Hobbit update. All is going well! Nothing too much to report except weight gain (to which I'm still bothered about). Hobbs (as Stacey has affectionately dubbed it) has been hopping around in there but there's no rhyme or reason to its movements. Last night, we started our first baby class which was definitely fun and informative. This Saturday, we go on our hospital tour and we're probably registering for all the baby goodies this weekend as well. I started looking into pediatricians and filling out my maternity leave forms so that it'll be done when I need to start sending it all in. And of course, I started contemplating making the many lists that I have to make: what to register for, what to pack in the baby bag (besides the bottle of wine to celebrate, lol), baby names, etc, etc, etc. I think I might have to make a list of all the lists I need to make.
It's now officially starting to feel "real". Not saying that it hasn't been real since the first little fetal nudge to this point, but there is a moment where it suddenly becomes an attainable event....something that will be tangible....
Throughout this entire process, I've been fairly even-keeled. I'm not normally overly emotional anyway (there was that horrible hormonal stretch at the start of the second trimester where Scott couldn't say hello without me screeching at him but I'm choosing to forget that teeny tiny lapse of emotional balance) and I'm not really much of a worrier. I'm not bothered by the prospect of giving birth...perhaps because I've been present at one? Not sure....I suppose I just know that the baby's got to come out somehow. I suppose, when we hit March and we're getting the room ready for Hobbit's entrance into the world, it'll then feel overwhelmingly real but I've got to be honest, I'm not the least bit scared, apprehensive, worried....none of it.....it'll happen when it happens and the way it's going to happen.
I'm more so at a happy place. I'm starting to really get energy back. I'm starting to feel normal again (as normal as I can be anyway, which in actuality isn't really normal but hey, you know what I meant). Sure, it'll be weird as hell to be a mom at first but I don't think I'll be the usual mom....yes, I'll change it and feed it and clothe it, but I know I have something unique to offer and I'm kind of looking forward to it.
And hey, if I screw the kid up too much, there's always therapy.
Yesterday, at baby class, there was another fun little gender-predicting moment. There were 13 couples in the class, and of course, we're the only "surprise" to-be-parents. The teacher asks me to stand up so she can guess the gender and proclaims that it's a girl by the way I'm carrying. I then explain that since the start of this pregnancy, nothing has actually pointed toward one sex or the other: yes I crave sweets but I'm all belly. The heart rate is in between, my feet are always cold, my looks haven't been affected, etc, etc, etc. I've heard them all. The Chinese gender chart predicted a girl for one of my friends but then told me a boy when I did it. So why should last night be any different?
Out of the 13 couples in the class, 6 were having girls and 6 were having boys. So, of course, we're the tie-breaker. Scott and I got a little chuckle out of that...this baby is determined to stay a mystery until it finally squeezes it's way out through the vaginal canal and comes shrieking into this world. Strangely enough, I kind of like the whole gender enigma. It makes it so much more exciting when you actually think about giving birth...because you have NO FREAKING CLUE what's going to come out.
I wanted to throw a shout-out to my poor sickie Momma and her sick Momma. I hope you both feel better soon. We love you and we're thinking about you both!
Monday, January 12, 2009
Weird Moment for the Day
I can almost hear the collective "What?" coming from all of your mouths but I had to share my weird moment for the day. In fact, it might take the prize for the weirdest moment in my entire pregnancy.
I went to the gym today, and as I was changing in the locker room, a woman approached me (keep in mind that I was clad only in my panties and a sports bra), cupped my stomach like it was a genie lamp, rubbed it, and said "Oh, you look so cute!"
I froze. What does one do? I momentarily envisioned myself rearing back and delivering a nice solid punch to her face but my usually-buried demure side surfaced and took control. I think the only reason why I didn't deck her was because she was clearly not from this country and I don't think she understood her creepy faux-pas. Instead, I put a shirt on quickly and hurried along....but seriously, who does that? I almost want to write to Dear Abby and ask her what to do in the event that it was to ever happen again.
I mean, I've had strangers touch the belly before but I'd always been clothed. Very, very weird moment indeed.
I went to the gym today, and as I was changing in the locker room, a woman approached me (keep in mind that I was clad only in my panties and a sports bra), cupped my stomach like it was a genie lamp, rubbed it, and said "Oh, you look so cute!"
I froze. What does one do? I momentarily envisioned myself rearing back and delivering a nice solid punch to her face but my usually-buried demure side surfaced and took control. I think the only reason why I didn't deck her was because she was clearly not from this country and I don't think she understood her creepy faux-pas. Instead, I put a shirt on quickly and hurried along....but seriously, who does that? I almost want to write to Dear Abby and ask her what to do in the event that it was to ever happen again.
I mean, I've had strangers touch the belly before but I'd always been clothed. Very, very weird moment indeed.
A Milestone!
The homestretch is officially here! Today, I am 28 weeks, which officially puts me in my third trimester! I am very, very excited about that.
I've heard that in the past, women do not like the third trimester but I think it's had an adverse affect on me: I'm actually starting to feel my energy come back, and I've started cooking again....albeit smaller meals that don't require too much prep time, but hey, gotta take those small steps back to "normalcy", right? Next week, Scott and I start our childbirth prep classes (six weeks of breathing, watching videos and wrapping dolls up in diapers) and soon, we'll be registering.
I have started going back to the gym because I really didn't like yoga all that much. I should've taken a page out of Julie's book and went for the prenatal pilates, but the gym should serve me just fine. I didn't realize just quite how out of shape I am, so it'll be an uphill battle but at least I have the energy to do some light cardio and even lighter weights. Of course, the discomfort is still there, but I've managed to create a little haven for myself on the sofa to try to minimize the back aches as much as possible. I have been sleeping a little better but I've gotten used to sleeping on the sofa, so that might be part of the reason....I'm going to try to move myself slowly back into the bedroom. We'll see how that goes.
Tomorrow I have jury duty (pray that they pass over me) and also this week, I have that blasted glucose test to take. I've got to try to limit my chocolate intake for the week which might be difficult to do....we'll see. And today, as a big "F You" to all those people that say I won't wear heels in my third trimester, I'll have you know that I have on some five inch stilettos. Take that, you non-believers!
I went to the doctor a week ago and all was fine. Baby's doing well, heartbeat was strong, belly growth is on track. Nothing overwhelming to report. Hobbit's movements have changed from violent kicking to light squirming. I'm appreciative of this, even if the squirming does kind of feel like a snake worming itself around in my intestines. Slightly creepy, but whatever. I suppose it's better than a fetal ass-kicking.
On an off note, congratulations to Julie, Christian and Lucy for the safe delivery of their new son!
I've heard that in the past, women do not like the third trimester but I think it's had an adverse affect on me: I'm actually starting to feel my energy come back, and I've started cooking again....albeit smaller meals that don't require too much prep time, but hey, gotta take those small steps back to "normalcy", right? Next week, Scott and I start our childbirth prep classes (six weeks of breathing, watching videos and wrapping dolls up in diapers) and soon, we'll be registering.
I have started going back to the gym because I really didn't like yoga all that much. I should've taken a page out of Julie's book and went for the prenatal pilates, but the gym should serve me just fine. I didn't realize just quite how out of shape I am, so it'll be an uphill battle but at least I have the energy to do some light cardio and even lighter weights. Of course, the discomfort is still there, but I've managed to create a little haven for myself on the sofa to try to minimize the back aches as much as possible. I have been sleeping a little better but I've gotten used to sleeping on the sofa, so that might be part of the reason....I'm going to try to move myself slowly back into the bedroom. We'll see how that goes.
Tomorrow I have jury duty (pray that they pass over me) and also this week, I have that blasted glucose test to take. I've got to try to limit my chocolate intake for the week which might be difficult to do....we'll see. And today, as a big "F You" to all those people that say I won't wear heels in my third trimester, I'll have you know that I have on some five inch stilettos. Take that, you non-believers!
I went to the doctor a week ago and all was fine. Baby's doing well, heartbeat was strong, belly growth is on track. Nothing overwhelming to report. Hobbit's movements have changed from violent kicking to light squirming. I'm appreciative of this, even if the squirming does kind of feel like a snake worming itself around in my intestines. Slightly creepy, but whatever. I suppose it's better than a fetal ass-kicking.
On an off note, congratulations to Julie, Christian and Lucy for the safe delivery of their new son!
Wednesday, January 7, 2009
Ghetto Booties Are Good
http://www.foxnews.com/story/0,2933,477434,00.html
Apparently, an oversized rear indicates good health. I think us Vaicius girls are gooooood to go!
Apparently, an oversized rear indicates good health. I think us Vaicius girls are gooooood to go!
Tuesday, January 6, 2009
Doctor Scales Are Evil When You're Fat
OK, so I know it's politically incorrect to call a pregnant woman fat because "she's carrying a child" and all that jazz, but it's OK if I call myself fat because despite the fact that I am carrying a child, I am also carrying an extra layer of lard allegedly in preparation to pop this sucker out. So I'm enacting preemptive strike to all of you who want to write a comment that reads something like "you're not fat, you're carrying a baby" by saying, yes I am carrying a baby but I'm also fat. I'm OK with it. It kind of comes with the territory.
That being said, has anyone ever noticed how evil doctor scales can be when you're fat? I swear to GOD, they calibrate those things to read an additional five pounds. I suppose it doesn't help that they weigh you before you pee (subtract a pound there) and of course, they weigh you with your boots on (subtract two pounds there) and fully clothed (subtract another 1-2 pounds depending on if you're wearing lightweight clothes or not)....so seriously, already, you should be shedding 5 pounds off of your initial weigh-in. And there is still no way in hell I weigh as much as that stupid scale claims.
Now, at home, I have the luxury of what my friends call the "magic scale" because for some odd reason, it is calibrated incorrectly (I think it's because it's an old one) and it removes 5 pounds from your weight. Yes, you read that correctly. It's magical, I swear. So the home scale puts me at 142-143 which means that in actuality, I should be about 147-148. The doctor's scale yesterday put me at *GULP* 154.5.
WTF??????? Even subtracting the 4.5 pounds for clothes and urine build-up, I still weight 2-3 pounds over what I should be. The doctor's scale? EVIL. That's what this means. To further prove my theory, I will be hitting the gym today in a sad attempt at strengthening my less-than-energetic blob of a body prior to childbirth and I will be weighing in butt ass naked on the gym scale.
I'll let you know what it says. Or maybe I won't. It depends on if I'm crying too hard to type without error.
That being said, has anyone ever noticed how evil doctor scales can be when you're fat? I swear to GOD, they calibrate those things to read an additional five pounds. I suppose it doesn't help that they weigh you before you pee (subtract a pound there) and of course, they weigh you with your boots on (subtract two pounds there) and fully clothed (subtract another 1-2 pounds depending on if you're wearing lightweight clothes or not)....so seriously, already, you should be shedding 5 pounds off of your initial weigh-in. And there is still no way in hell I weigh as much as that stupid scale claims.
Now, at home, I have the luxury of what my friends call the "magic scale" because for some odd reason, it is calibrated incorrectly (I think it's because it's an old one) and it removes 5 pounds from your weight. Yes, you read that correctly. It's magical, I swear. So the home scale puts me at 142-143 which means that in actuality, I should be about 147-148. The doctor's scale yesterday put me at *GULP* 154.5.
WTF??????? Even subtracting the 4.5 pounds for clothes and urine build-up, I still weight 2-3 pounds over what I should be. The doctor's scale? EVIL. That's what this means. To further prove my theory, I will be hitting the gym today in a sad attempt at strengthening my less-than-energetic blob of a body prior to childbirth and I will be weighing in butt ass naked on the gym scale.
I'll let you know what it says. Or maybe I won't. It depends on if I'm crying too hard to type without error.
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