So it’s summer now, and there is officially nothing on TV. Well, unless you count Losing it with Jillian or Persons Unknown. I will admit I do love me some Jillian Michaels, with her perfectly toned body inflicting suffering on overweight America. Anyway, the other night I found myself particularly exhausted at about 7pm, absolutely unable to muster the strength to tackle one of the billion home improvement and crafting projects on my list. So I decided to browse around Netflix for a movie we could watch while Matt did the bills. I had heard a lot of twitter about this documentary Ricki Lake made, and thought, hey! I’m pregnant! Sounds like a good idea!

I don’t know that I would call it a good idea, but it was certainly an transformative few hours for me. As the name suggests, Ricki Lake takes you on a little behind-the-scenes tour of the baby-birthing industry, from the perspectives of OBs, mothers, midwives, and researchers. Yes, the movie was a bit slanted in favor of midwives and the natural, at-home birthing option. Now, in a previous post I mentioned how I was not really interested in a doula, midwife, or birthing center. I guess I just feel very comfortable in hospitals and have a lot of faith in doctors. I do my research, ask a lot of questions, and consider myself a fairly informed patient. But what this movie really made me realize is that being born is a business, and sometimes, decisions are being made for financial and convenience reasons. And when I am in the heat of the moment, in the worst pain of my life, am I am really going to be able to sort through what the doctor is telling me about what our next steps should be? Who is going to help me stick to the plan? How am I going to avoid unnecessary interventions? Obviously Matt will be there, but he won’t be able to tell if the forceps/vacuum/epistiotomy/c-section is really necessary, or if the doctor just wants to get home to that game of golf.

I do believe I am getting adequate care from my OB. I like him, his assistant, and his nurses. They take the time to listen to me. But they might not be with me in the birthing room. I don’t think a birthing center is right for me. I want to have the option of pain meds. But I want someone with me there at the hospital, reminding me that this is what my body was designed to do. That it knows what to do. I made an appointment for us to attend an orientation meeting at the nearby birthing center where many of the city’s midwives practice. I am hoping that I can find a way to make this whole labor thing slightly less terrifying. I mean, women have been doing this since the beginning of time. Piece of cake, right?

I know, another pregnancy post. Omg, this blog is turning into such a pregnancy blog! Sorry, I just don’t have much else to talk about. Other than how our house is crumbling in on itself and how the flurry of contractors hollering through the house is making me feel like I am on an episode of the Cake Boss, but with electricians. Oh yeah, and how paying for all the repairs is basically raising our monthly living expenses to the equivalent of renting a decent Manhattan apartment. And how it’s a good thing we aren’t adopting right now, forget a new kitchen, we need $15k to fix a retaining wall! Just kidding. We aren’t fixing the wall. Actually, I get really annoyed when people complain about the consequences of the choices they make, so I will stop. We bought the house. It is our bed, we will lie in it. After all, it’s lined with money!

But anyway, this week I started feeling baby boy move. That combined with the fact that I am actually starting to look pregnant, has led me to have some pretty strong emotions about this whole being pregnant thing. It is hard to admit, but it is really cool. And really really strange. My friend K summed it up well when she said, “Pregnancy is totally normal until it happens to you.” How does my body know how to do this? How is it possible that I am growing another human being, inside me? Why am I getting winded while walking?

Other special things have been happening lately as well. My family and friends have started planning multiple baby showers for us. We were gifted with a beautiful crib. I have been lent many piles of maternity clothes from generous, excited friends. We are starting to assemble and plan the nursery. Theses are all things I never thought I would be able to experience, ever. Adoption makes things very different. Showers can be tricky. Setting up the nursery has the potential to just remind you of the waiting game. And you certainly don’t get a whole new wardrobe!

I always said that I am just not one of those people that needs to be pregnant. The parenting part was always our focus. I still feel that way. Even though I am cherishing every weird, fun, and uncomfortable moment of this 9 months, I still think I would have been ok never experiencing them. If I had never known being pregnant, I would not have missed it. But now that I have, I can see why people want to do it again. Why they have a hard time arriving at the decision to adopt after already having a biological child. And now I have a deeper understanding of why adoption is such a profound loss for everyone involved, and I wonder if I could handle it. And that realization scares me a little.

Luckily we can’t afford more than one kid! Unless we start calling our new waterproof garage Junior. Just kidding.

Here’s a shot of me at 20 weeks. Please excuse the claw hand. It’s hard to believe I’m (theoretically) halfway there – I never thought I would ever experience this day (or the previous 140, for that matter). I’m closer to the end than the beginning! Cool.

It’s starting look like there’s somebody in there!

The other day while I was out on my walk, I noticed that our neighbors had a bunch of pink shiny balloons on their front porch and a “It’s a Girl!” sign. I actually had not known she was even pregnant until a few weeks ago, when I got a glimpse of her very pregnant belly when she was leaving for work. Somehow I just hadn’t run into her in 9 months. Anyway, I saw the balloons and I was excited. Happy. I went to work making muffins and delivered them as soon as I could. It was then that I realized, I think I am getting better. I think I am finally getting to a place where I do not feel sad, bitter, angry, or self-righteous when I hear a pregnancy announcement (from someone who has not struggled with infertility). I don’t know the neighbors’ story. For all I know they tried for years for that baby, or perhaps she was an accident. Would either situation make it any less of a miracle?

I have spent a lot of time thinking recently about the root of bitterness. I have experienced how it can completely take over a person’s life – namely, my own. We have a saying in our house (you know, all two of us): “Get over yourself”. We use it when someone is dragging their feet about a chore, or about who ate the last piece of cake, or when we can’t afford to get the things we want.  Many times, I use it on myself. I imagine I will be using it a LOT on myself come October. But the point is, I think our bitterness stems from our human-born tendency to focus on ourselves. To believe that we really DO deserve all the good things in life. That we have lived in a way that should put us in line with blessings and riches and ease in life. That we can’t be happy until we get what we want. I have thought it many times before – “I would make SUCH a better mother than that woman on the corner who screams at her children, feeds them candy for breakfast and lets them watch 6 hours of TV a day. She doesn’t deserve her kids!” or, “It’s not fair that so-and-so has four perfectly-spaced children conceived at the drop of a dime! We have been waiting for years!”. Back when I was really struggling, I put up a particularly vitriolic post about how unfair life was and how I am such a victim. A friend, who also has gone through infertility, gently reminded me that nobody deserves their children. They don’t belong to us, they belong to God, and we are just stewards of those blessings. It took a little while for that to sink in, but it did. I don’t deserve our child. I have messed up just as much as that woman who screams at her children – perhaps just in different, less visible ways. And just because I have had to wait years for our child doesn’t mean I have won the Pain Olympics. I don’t know Fertile Myrtle’s secret hardships.

I suppose the realization that I really don’t deserve the miracle we have been given has led me to be slightly reserved when it comes to real-life pregnancy chatter. I remember when we were in our dark times, hearing friends talk about their pregnancies around me, just being so sad. I liken it to a wealthy person griping about how hard it is to have money, to be unable to decide how to spend it, and to have to pay so much taxes – right in front of a financially destitute person, trying to figure out where the next meal will come from. It’s not quite right. I had to stop reading a bizarrely popular blog when the author became pregnant with her fifth child and continually complained about her pregnancy symptoms. I felt like she was complaining about her blessings. It has taken me nearly 5 months to be able to answer the question, “am I allowed to be excited?” with a “YES”. But I just can’t forget what it was like on the other side. The other side was really, really, hard.

So what changed? Was getting pregnant, “getting what I want”, what made the bitterness go away? I really, really hope not. I said it before about what I thought would be our adopted child – it’s not this child’s job to heal my pain. I would like to think that God healed my heart and helped me to realize that I was just being selfish. I cringe when I think about just how selfish I was – I am not proud of the person I was. So I am still working on it, but I think I am getting over myself.

A funny story about baby names: People have been asking us a lot if we have picked out a name yet, especially now that we know the gender of the baby. One of these people was Matt’s mom. 28 years ago, apparently it was pretty rare to use ultrasound as a means to discover the baby’s gender. Well, Matt’s mom was SO convinced that he was going to be a girl, that she only picked out a girl’s name: Sarah Elizabeth. So when Matt was born, and the nurses were hounding her for the baby boy’s name, she was a little flustered. It turns out that she picked up a copy of the New York Times and scanned names on the Editorial Board until she saw there were several people named “Matthew”. She figured it was good enough and selected it at random. I think I am going to start calling him Sarah Elizabeth for fun.

Anyway, like I mentioned, a lot of people have been asking if we have picked out a name yet. The answer is yes. Strangely enough, we have actually had the name picked out for like 4 years. We are not the types to discuss baby names before trying to get pregnant, but one day the name just came up. We both realized that it would be the most perfect name if we were to ever have a baby boy. It has a lot of significance to us and we are in love with it. Of course we knew that we might not ever have a boy, and back when we were pursuing adoption, we were especially unsure about naming protocol. A friend lent us a baby name book, and we combed through for both boy and girl names before we knew the gender. We had a pretty sizable list of girl names, and like 2 other boy names that were ok, but just not quite right. We realized we just didn’t want any other name and would regret it if we used something else. (Please don’t think I am saying your baby boy’s name is ugly, it’s just not the name for our baby.)

We haven’t been using the name yet because we are afraid of letting it slip. We really want it to be a surprise when he is born. We are still using our nickname for the baby, and will probably do that until we see his little face.

The ultrasound went splendidly, and all HIS limbs and organs are present and accounted for. And he is a serious mover – we had a hard time getting some shots due to his activity. Here he is showing off his guns:

So Matt was wrong, but in his words, he wanted to be “either right or happy”. Ha ha, just what we need, another little Matt running around here. Sorry to disappoint all the grandmas and sisters dreaming of lacy outfits. There are always sailor suits.

So last week at my acupuncture appointment, the therapist asked me if I eat a lot of dairy. I replied that I basically mainline the stuff all day – just short of an IV in my arm all day, pumping melted cheese and yogurt into my veins. Anyway, she suggested that I cut it out, that it might be triggering my migraines. One thing I have learned from all my migraine research is that if you are paying attention to your daily diet, it should be fairly obvious if a specific food is a trigger for you – you eat it, then you get a headache. But what if you are eating it all day, every day? And you have a headache all day, every day? I agreed that it was worth trying. I have been doing it for about a week now and it’s going pretty well. I have found that Rice and Soy Milk are great substitutes and have switched from ice cream to sorbet. I am still working on the yogurt and cheese situation – for now I miss them.

But anyway, I feel a lot better! The last week I have seen an improvement in the headaches. Now, I will admit that this hasn’t been a very scientifically accurate trial here, as I have been trying a few other things concurrently. I switched to all hypoallergenic bedding and am taking Zyrtec daily. Along with the acupuncture, who knows where the improvement is coming from. Maybe God finally got to my name in the queue (just kidding!). But I’ll take it! Also, thanks to everyone for their migraine-relieving suggestions. I have filed them away on my “to try” list if this round of attempts does not work.

In other news, this past weekend we celebrated a friend’s wedding out of town. We, along with some college friends, convened on a small town in New York to celebrate a very special couple. It was so much fun to see old friends and to be surrounded by so much joy. And the wedding was so touching. Maybe it’s my heightened emotional state, but it was my first time crying at a wedding – when I saw L walking down the aisle, and again at the speeches, I got rather teary eyed. I was just so happy for them. It was nice to be in a place surrounded by such happiness. It was so refreshing.

And, while there, a friend gifted Lil’ Meurer with this:

She began knitting it back in the fall when she learned of our adoption plans. How sweet!

And lastly, our big ultrasound is on Friday! What do think we are in for, a Mini Matt or a Mini Hilary?