January 2014

Pregnancy Week 17: Sweet Dreams are Made of This

January 26, 2014

For the first time, someone asked if I was expecting, and it was both sweet and awkward.

LADY: (looking at my belly) Oh! When are you … I mean, are you?

ME: Yes! July 5.

LADY: Oh. You still have a long way to go. You look farther along.

ME: Um, no. But I had a big bowl of pho yesterday, and I think the sodium kinda made me explode.

It was the truth. I was fat-cheeked and plumper than usual, as if the baby somehow gobbled a few pizzas and a pan of brownies without me. (Things have since settled down considerably.)

Pho king belly.

Then the lady asked the weirdest thing.

LADY: Are you peeking?

ME: Am I what?

LADY: Well, if not already, are you planning to peek?

ME: I don’t … um, I’m not sure what you mean.

LADY: You know. Boy or girl. Are you peeking?

ME: Oh, right. No. My belly doesn’t work that way.

I was confused. I pictured some kind of porthole into my uterus. Or something like Barbie’s pregnant friend Midge, with the removable stomach and pop-out baby.

Damn Midge. She makes it look so easy.

LADY: I meant, are you going to find out the baby’s gender?

I considered telling her that gender is a socially constructed concept. We will actually be finding out the baby’s sex, which refers to the child’s anatomy … but then I realized WHEE! We will find out the baby’s sex this week. Wow, that sure happened fast!

So, to answer her question, yes. I will be peeking.

I have two doctor’s appointments coming up this week, and as always, I am nervous — especially since one of those visits is with a genetic specialist, and it is literally his job to tell me what’s wrong with my baby. But I’m also getting to the point where I’m more pumped than anxious. Woo, I’ll get to wave to my little one on a black-and-white screen full of static again. BEST DAY EVER!

NEW THIS WEEK

Baby: Is the size of an onion, according to my iPhone apps. (I am not sure what variety of onion, but I’m picturing a sweet, bulbous Vidalia.)

Baby’s sex: My guess is boy.

Baby’s first national park.

Me: I feel good. I have had some round ligament pain, but it’s more like a dull ache or a tiny tug, and I don’t mind it. It reminds me that something’s happening in there.

I’ve also been having a lot of strange, particularly vivid dreams lately. Nothing about giving birth to kittens or anything like that. Just colorful, trippy dreams. It’s like dropping acid every night but without all the anxiety that I’ll never be normal again.

Some of the most notable ones:

* On Cyber Monday, everybody who went online turned into a robot.

* My friend Tod From Dayton (not be confused with Tod from Palm Desert), had to give Steven Tyler lessons on how to be a rock star.

* Adonis moved in next door. Like, the actual Greek god. It made borrowing a cup of sugar super hot.

* My friend Eileen took up a low-carb diet that consisted of only quail eggs.

* Heather and I met two men with ridiculous facial hair and helped them carry mattresses. They turned out to be editors at Tin House.

* My friend Agam quit his job as manager of an MFA program and joined a Doobie Brothers cover band.

* I was drinking a beer. Just one very big, beautiful glass of dark beer. And then I took Cheryl Strayed to my favorite place in Hampi, India, a little restaurant full of lavender scarves and clove cigarettes, where we sat on pillows, shared a dosa and wrote lovely things.

* North Korea decided to attack the United States. Specifically, they attacked Rancho Mirage, CA. But then Stephen Graham Jones, a professor in my creative writing program, thwarted their plans by distracting them with a fake Beach Boys band — just a bunch of golfers in Tommy Bahama shirts. While they were singing “Good Vibrations,” Stephen Graham Jones slipped the North Korean soldiers some jelly doughnuts filled with lethal doses of sleeping pills. ‘Merica!

Days until a dirty martini: 161

Pregnancy Week 16: Clinton, Kobe and golfers, oh my!

January 21, 2014

First, there was the pregnancy announcement with Bryan Cranston, who was perfectly lovely.

As soon as I told him my idea for an epic Breaking Bad pregnancy announcement, he was game. “Let’s do it,” he said. “Where should I stand? Should I hold your belly?”

The blue meth made me do it.

That was a couple weeks ago. And then this week of pregnancy, things got really crazy.

I volunteered for the Clinton Foundation’s Health Matters conference, which addresses important questions about health and wellness in the U.S. My job was to act as security for the talent, which included Herschel Walker, Matt Kemp and Kobe Bryant, checking badges backstage.

Safety first.

Like, this Kobe.

This marks the first and only time a Laker will be guarded by a relatively small pregnant lady.

The same Kobe who is chatting up Chelsea Clinton. Like, this Chelsea.

Outside this door? Me with a walkie talkie, ready to kick some ass! And talk to people in CB slang.

Then I brought my dad to the Humana Challenge golf tournament, which featured a bunch of men who are golf famous. Not Tiger, but you know. Those other guys in the pants with the clubs.

Hideous winter weather in Palm Springs.

And then we saw President Bill Clinton, who recognized me from such things as following him around the golf course last year.

Not the father.

This fetus, man. It’s destined to become an A-list celebrity. Or a TMZ paparazzo.

Here’s how everything else is going this week:

Baby: Is the size of a Hass avocado, and my uterus is the size of a cantaloupe. This prompted my friend Abby to say the best thing of my pregnancy thus far: “An avocado inside a cantaloupe inside your belly is like a pregnant vegetarian Turducken.”

Wee baby Turducken.

The interesting thing is that I have not received a single comment about my pregnant belly or anything like that. So all those times pre-pregnancy when I felt so bloated or thought everyone was focused on my extra pounds, NOBODY ACTUALLY NOTICED BUT ME. Right now I am literally walking around with something the size of a melon in my gut, and it still slides under the radar.

Other baby stuff: Baby is growing hair, lashes and eyebrows now. (Weird!) It can hear my voice. (So weird!) Supposedly I will feel it move soon. (Super duper weird!)

At night before I fall asleep, I lie very still and focus on the baby and try to feel it flutter. Sometimes I even feel the tiniest bit of something! And then I’ll realize I ate a lot of lentils this week, and I’m probably feeling what my friend Ashley calls “a cherished moment of gas.”

New this week: I am itchy. All the time. Every part of me. I’m sure part of this can be attributed to living in the desert in winter. But I think part of it is also caused by my skin expanding to accommodate an entirely new human.

These products have been hitting the dry spot: Weleda stretch mark massage oil, Weleda sea buckthorn creamy body wash and Alba very emollient body lotion. Sweet, sweet emollience.

Cream of the crop.

Also my hair has been weird. The curl is weird. Length is weird. Ends are dry. Where’s the glorious, thick pregnancy hair I’ve read about? I want my money back!

Clothes: Still wearing my regular clothes, but I’ve also added this maternity T-shirt into the rotation. It is so soft and so long, and it is black like Morrissey’s soul, and I love it forever and ever.

Liz Lange for Target; very comfortable for me.

I have also been wearing my Thai fisherman plants a lot. What exactly are Thai fisherman pants? Well, they are pants that involve a lot of fabric, very wide legs and a weird, wide waistband that is elaborately folded, then tied.

I was certain these pants would become fashion’s next big thing, and I stocked up while I was in Chiang Mai. I have about six pairs in a variety of colors.

I mean, they still haven’t gotten very trendy yet. And sometimes people point and openly laugh at me when I wear them to Trader Joe’s. But someday, you’ll all see.

Who’ll be laughing then? Me and this guy.

I’d post a photo of me in my Thai pants, but the internet isn’t ready for that much sexy.

Husband: Happy.

Let’s hope we’re better at making babies than selfies.

Pregnancy week 15: I feel good. Too good.

January 12, 2014

Every day this week I woke up full of energy. My belly seemed flatter. I didn’t have any wild mood swings.

I felt so good, in fact, I figured SOMETHING MUST BE WRONG.

Clearly, the baby fell out while I wasn’t looking. Or something.

Yes, exactly.

Right now I’m stuck in this weird limbo: I’m between monthly doctor visits. Most of my first trimester symptoms have gone away, but it’s still too early to feel the baby move. My belly hasn’t really popped yet, I just look like I need to cut back on the burritos. Sometimes I don’t even feel pregnant at all.

I read online that some women can hear their baby’s heartbeat in the bathtub by submerging their belly underwater, then leaning back until both ears are submerged too. So I tried that. The only heartbeat I heard in the water was slow, about half the speed of what a baby’s heartbeat should be. And I totally freaked out — until I realized that slow-ass heartbeat I was hearing was my own.

Anyway, I couldn’t hear the baby at all. And my friend Emily said I’m not allowed to read crazy lady pregnancy websites anymore. So no more DIY baby eavesdropping for me.

Besides feeling suspiciously terrific, here’s how things are going:

This week, baby is the size of an orange.

Hi baby! I’m about to juice you and drink you for breakfast. Which is weird.

But seriously. Oranges are huge. And I remember when baby was just the size of a poppyseed. I can’t even wrap my head around this.

*sigh* They grow up so fast.

This week I went back to work and started school again at the same time, so I haven’t done any major hikes or bike rides. But I still managed to walk a few miles every day. Then I went to my first official prenatal yoga class. (I’ve been doing prenatal yoga videos at home, but I tend to perform better in a class, because I get really competitive with my own reflection in the mirror. Like a betta fish.)

I hope laying by the pool with friends, eating French fries and laughing is also good for me, because I did that too.

It was a great pool party, even with this hideous view.

Pregnancy Week 14: The Salton Sea and No Pee

January 5, 2014

Oh hey, energy. I’ve missed you.

This week brought fewer naps, a 12-mile bike ride, a handful of hikes and a renewed love of berry smoothies.

On top of a mountain, powered by my own two feet.

The Husband and I also made a quick day trip to the Salton Sea for a short (2-mile) hike along the shoreline.

The Salton Sea, created by Colorado River flooding, is one of the lowest spots on earth and one of the world’s largest inland seas. It’s a bizarre place. Though the sea was once lined with resorts and known as the American Riviera (or the Riviera of California), it’s now surrounded by abandoned homes and dilapidated buildings. It’s also an environmental disaster.

Still, it’s really beautiful. It’s an important stopover for migratory birds. It’s filled with millions of fish. Plus, I have a soft spot for broken places and worn things.

All quiet on the Salton Sea.

I love the stillness there. Like someone pressed life’s pause button.

Maybe that’s why I wanted to take this week’s pregnancy photo there. I’m in a happy place right now, and I want to savor this moment.

My hump: Week 14.

About 30 miles away is the desolate desert town of Niland, home to Slab City, an abandoned military training area that now attracts drifters, squatters and others seeking an alternative lifestyle — one entirely off the grid.

If you’ve seen “Into the Wild,” a portion of it takes place here.

Even Bella from Twilight couldn’t ruin this part of the film.

Niland is also home to Salvation Mountain. Part of “Into the Wild” took place here too. Here’s a clip.

Salvation Mountain is one man’s attempt to spread a message of faith and love, and he has spent decades constructing this mountain out of hay, mud and more than 100,000 gallons paint. It’s pretty remarkable, and my photo doesn’t come close to showing the size or the fairytale quality of the place. Inside the mountain is a maze of altars and rooms, elaborate displays of car doors, telephone poles, gnarled tree branches, photos and truck parts.

Salvation Mountain. This photo doesn’t even begin to do it justice.

I’m not the most evangelical person in the world — actually, I’m not evangelical at all. But I can respect someone who has this kind of passion and can channel that into a massive work of art.

Bump in the desert.

The other big thing that happened this week: One day I woke up at 4 a.m. and couldn’t pee. This, as many of you might know, is the opposite of what happens to most women during pregnancy. And it was a dramatic shift for me too. Usually I’m pissing all over the place like an incontinent mountain lion.

Have you ever needed to pee and couldn’t? It’s incredibly stressful. Within a matter of minutes, I was Violet Beauregarde. And I panicked.

Stick a fork in me. I’m done.

What happens if I never pee again? I wondered. Can I pop? What if I pop? Certainly popping is bad for the baby.

Luckily, the internet exists, and I quickly found two possible causes of this problem: A urinary tract infection, which is common during pregnancy. Or the baby was blocking the bladder — another common issue, particularly for women who are in week 13-15 (check!) and have a tilted uterus (check!).

The bad news is that this has happened every night since then. I think the baby settles into a strange spot during the night. The good news is that the problem should sort itself out once the baby gets bigger and stops using my bladder for a pillow.

In the meantime, I found some suggestions online from other pregnant ladies for how to kick-start the flow:

* Go to the hospital and have a catheter inserted.

Yeah, that’ll be my last resort. Thanks.

* Sit in different positions on the toilet.

I tried this. I leaned forward. I leaned left. I leaned right. Then I tried turning around backward, like I was riding a toilet pony. None of it worked, but it sure was interesting.

* While you try to urinate, pour a cup of hot water over your ladybits. It will help get things flowing.

What? Ow. No. Who told you this was ok?

* Push your hand up on your cervix and manually shift your uterus up.

You know, I’m really not confident in my ability to push my uterus anywhere. Generally, I just let it go where it wants to go. I’m growing a free-range uterus here.

* Walk around, rub your belly, wait for the baby to shift a little, then try again.

Yes. This worked.

Resolutions for other people

January 1, 2014

The idea for this post began as a joke. One of my neighbors — I’m not sure which one — regularly leaves dog poop all over the place, so I wanted to make a 2014 resolution for him/her. A mean resolution. Like what precisely that neighbor can do with that dog poop.

But the more I thought about the coming year, the more I realized that making resolutions for other people is not such a bad idea. Resolutions to help others, I mean.

Helping others: In Laos, the monks subsist on the food they receive as alms each morning.

I’m tired of thinking about myself all the time. It’s boring. I’ve spent all these years trying to cultivate good habits, set goals, improve my lifestyle, reinvent myself, look better, get smaller, tone up, slim down, learn more, grow more, be more, do it all. Sometimes I succeeded, sometimes I failed — either way, I’ve been there, done that. I’m very experienced when it comes to self-improvement.

What I haven’t focused on, however, is how my life affects the lives of those around me. So that’s what I want to do in 2014. Here’s how:

* Be a better citizen of the world.

Everything is connected.

The biggest benefit of my trip around the world was that I saw how closely our lives are all connected. Though it seems like we’re so different and separate, what with all these borders and language barriers and miles between us, the truth is that we’re all here together. What I do here can have an impact on someone else’s life on the other side of the world.

This means volunteering in my own community, as well as engaging more with people in other places. It means offering more support to organizations that legitimately try to make the world better, like the Landmine Relief Fund. I’m also a fan of microlending opportunities like Kiva.

We all have the same desires for family, love, safety and shelter. Let’s try harder to help each other with that.

* Be a more active participant in my literary community.

Kickass literary magazine. Photo from dumdumzine.com

When I started grad school for creative writing, I began meeting a lot of authors — people who work hard to develop their craft, devote their lives to art and get very little in return. And that’s when I stopped illegally downloading books. Because writers deserve to get paid. (This goes for all art, by the way. Not just writers.)

But I can still do more. I would rather have fewer nights at restaurants or movies if it means filling my house with more books, putting more money into writers’ pockets and helping them continue to do what they love.

My grad school also introduced me to some badass people who do wonderful things for the literary arts, and I want to support their efforts. For instance, my mentee Liska has the coolest experimental lit/art zine. (You should buy it! And submit to it!) My friend Natashia is the creator of Dirty Laundry Lit, an innovative and exciting reading series in LA. (Go to it!) And my friends are always publishing the most breathtaking work, the kind of pieces that make me so thankful these people exist and live and write. Like this. And this. And this. And this. I could go on and on. (Read these pieces! Share them!)

* Keep reading.

Book love.

I grew up an avid reader, but when I started working in newspapers, I just stopped. It’s embarrassing how little I read. I remember several years ago, a friend of mine compiled a list of her top 10 books of the year and I was incredulous. How could a person possibly read 10 books in a year?

Well, this past year, I read 54 books. My life has improved dramatically since I’ve made reading a priority. My world has expanded. I’ve learned more. I can contribute more to conversations and in a more meaningful way.

Knowing how much books boost my happiness, I’m aiming for 50+ this year. I’d really like to raise that number, but I’m also realistic about my time. I have a great big thesis due this summer, and I know that will take a lot of my energy and attention.

* Consume mindfully.

I already try to consume mindfully, but I want to get better about it. I don’t want my dollars going to CEOs who support things I don’t, companies that don’t operate in an ethical manner, factories that don’t treat their employees with respect. I’m not just talking about Domino’s Pizzas and Chick-fil-A, but also the everyday products I use. If I buy toilet paper and that money ends up in some Koch brother’s wallet, I want to know about that. I’ve downloaded the Buycott app to help me make more informed consumer decisions.

I will also continue to make organic and fair trade products a part of my lifestyle. I am on a budget, but I would rather have less and consume better.

Consuming less overall is part of this too. For too long I bought clothes/shoes/accessories according to what was trendy, and eventually those items seemed to take on a disposable quality. They are not. It takes resources to make these items, I spend good money on them (and the products are usually crappy), and ultimately they end up in landfills. I want to get better about fixing/refurbishing what I already have, purchasing already-used goods or not buying at all. This is going to be a real test as I try to make it through my pregnancy without purchasing a load of maternity clothes that will only be used for a few months.

* Be kind to myself.

Fine. I’ll eat less salt.

I’ve spent years trying to create a better relationship with my body, but that has taken on an increased importance now that I’m pregnant. The better I eat, the more active I am, the more I care for myself, the better I will be as a mother, wife and role model. Also, right now my habits literally have an effect on the baby inside me. If that doesn’t inspire me to be better, nothing will.

I also don’t want to beat myself up anymore. I’m tired of referring to certain foods as “bad” or “guilty pleasures.” I don’t want to feel like I’ve done something wrong if I skip one of my daily walks. I’m an imperfect person, trying to do the best I can.

* Nurture my relationships with friends.

I love these people.

My friends are treasures, and I don’t always treat them like they are. Sometimes I get busy or I don’t want to bug anyone, so I hunker down and don’t communicate. I need to try harder at making phone calls, extending invitations, following up on lunch dates/coffee dates, spending time with them, asking about their lives. I truly love the people in my life, and my actions should show it.

The amazing this is how much all of these things are linked. Reading more widens my literary community and keeps me more engaged with the world around me. Consuming mindfully causes less waste and potentially creates better working and living environments for everyone. Taking care of myself makes me a more active person in the world and gives me the chance to do more for others.

This 2014, it’s not about me anymore.