The Not-So-Cute Side of Pregnancy

Pimples and Acne and Zits, Oh My!
I have acne reminiscent of middle school.  The other night before bed, I washed my face and brushed my teeth, and we were getting ready for bed.  The hubs and I were passing each other in the bedroom, and he stopped to hug me.  He sort of leaned back while telling me some sweet nothing, and instead of looking longingly into my eyes, I'll be darned if he wasn't staring at the giant mountain just above my right eyebrow.

This struck me as being far worse than it was back in high school when you were trying to have a conversation with a teenage boy and he was staring straight at your boobs.  << Can I get an "Amen?" >>

Frequent Urination
I pee ALL THE TIME.  I've always been a really good water-drinker.  << Who am I kidding? The hubs, on a regular basis, accuses me of opening my throat when I have a beverage in front of me- especially when it's either a.) a margarita from Pelancho's, or b.) a bottle of water on a really good hike >>.  I have continued my healthy water-drinking habits, but I swear the kid produces his own urine that transfers directly through my kidneys and on to my bladder.  What's worse, I even have phantom pee!  The sensation of an urgent need to pee travels from my bladder to my brain. I go to pop a squat and get a .7 second trickle. Fail.  Then, approximately 9 minutes later, I've got a FULL bladder and have to race right back.  I see this habit as wasteful of toilet paper, soap, water, and the clean hand towel in the bathroom. << Can I get an "Amen?" >>

Muffin Top doesn't begin to describe it.
Now I've never been a small person.  I'm 5' 7", and I've been athletic since I could lace up my own roller skates.  I love to lift weights with the big boys, and I've always been curvy (at times overweight, but usually within a healthy weight range).  All that to say, this is the first time I have not had a flat stomach.  At first this bump was just plain cute.  But it's getting to be cumbersome << Someone tell that girl to get a grip! She's got 3 more months of GROWTH >>. While the hubs hasn't pointed it out yet, I think I've actually started to waddle.  Getting up and down from a chair, the couch, or even getting in and out of the car, takes more of both time and effort. When I look down, all I see are curves.  I've given up wearing pants altogether, with the exception of stretchy pajama pants, stretchy leggings, and stretchy workout pants.  When I'm in the car, I even have to wear the lap belt part of the seatbelt in such a way that the bump hangs over it. The chest strap rests nicely between the over-sized girls.

Goodbye Pre-Pregnancy Clothes.
At 25 weeks, I've packed away ALL of my pre-pregnancy clothes << if you're one of those women who never had to buy maternity clothes, we can still be friends, as long as you promise not to tell me about it. Kthanks... >>.  This part of the process just plain sucks.  I have way more clothes than I could possibly need, and nothing reminded me of this more than packing them all up for the day (that feels as though it will be a long way off) that I can gloriously sport them again.  My button up shirts and skinny jeans were the FIRST to go.  Soon after were my non-stretchy pants (work and casual alike) and cute work shirts that just weren't long enough to cover the bump. 

At first I shifted these items from the closet in my bedroom to the closet in our guest bedroom. We had to buy a new bin, after all.

Now we arrive to the last of the last, the hold-outs that were staying in rotation as long as they could: the stretchy cotton tops that could no longer conceal the bump; the gym shorts that now create a GIANT muffin top, the cute dresses that have become a flashing hazard as a result of the bump- they all join the others in the bin.  In hindsight, I have some advice. This is a little nugget that, amidst all the other unsolicited advice I've received, no one thought to share with me. When it's your turn, ASK SOMEONE ELSE TO FOLD AND PACK UP YOUR PRE-PREGNANCY CLOTHING.  This is not part of the process that you will enjoy.  Trust me.  Ask your sister, your mother, your significant other, your neighbor- anybody but you should handle that task.

Furthermore, while they are packing away the part of your pre-mommy-to-be-identity << i.e. clothes that no longer fit >>, go to your happy place. Or do something like paint your toenails or listen to your favorite music.  Whatever you do, do not fold up and pack away your clothes that no longer fit. Trust me, avoiding that little emotional roller coaster is a good idea, both in theory and in practice.

How to Throw a Citizenship Party

You become a citizen exactly one time in your life.  Whether it's at your birth or after the naturalization process, it ONLY HAPPENS ONCE.  So this begs the question:

How do you celebrate a Once In A Lifetime event? 

Here's your answer:

With a Citizenship Party, of course!

Here's a glimpse of how ours went down.

Yard spinners were strategically placed.

Outside decorations were essential.

Bells were hung, along with a <3 shaped sign
and a patriotic wind chime.

Sweet tea, soft drinks, water, and underneath the mosquito netting
we had some homemade hummus, carrots and pita chips,
and let's not forget the watermelon.

In order to plan a proper Citizenship Party, we had to have some patriotic activities and accessories.  I called up a friend of mine, Zach, who has always been our music guru.  He's known us since the hubs and I met in 2004 and is a dear friend, even when he lives across the country and we rarely talk outside of FB.  He sent us a party music mix (and a totally sweet after party mix, too).  Some of the magical, USA party-appropriate tunes included Graceland, Shout, Jailhouse Rock, Sugar Pie Honey Bun, One Fine Day, California Girls, and many, many other easily recognizable and fun hits.  The tunes lasted all the way until the kids needed a movie to entertain them.

Also, I created an "Order the Presidents" activity, starting our guests with #1, Washington, and #44, Obama. It would take the collective knowledge of the group to fill in Presidents #2 through #43.  How do you think you'd do?

The "Order the Presidents" game, with some framed photos from the
swearing in ceremony hung too. I built a clue into the game, in that every other
president was either on a blue piece of paper or on a white one.
As the group got closer and closer to being finished, that built-in clue came in very handy.

Just in case it was hot outside, I created some patriotic fans.

Blue with Stars and Red and White stripes kept us cool
(figuratively, not literally, because we had perfect outdoor party weather).

I also pulled together a sampling of the questions that the hubs (and all candidates for citizenship) had to study prior to taking the test.  I thought it would be eye-opening for our native-born guests to be exposed to questions they *ought* to know the answers to.  Could you answer any of them?

19 out of 100 questions that we studied prior to the hubs' test.

We saved the test for later in the evening, and we had the Order the Presidents going on beforehand.  Also, we set up a small liquor bar, but folks mostly stuck with beer and wine we had in coolers outside. The baskets up top (in the photo below) held the cutlery, which eventually were relocated to the food table (duh!).

And no, canned Fresca isn't typically
included with a liquor spread.

The dessert table was covered with an American flag cloth.
This table filled to overflowing once folks started to arrive.

Even the W.C. got some USA attention
on both the toilet and the towel rod.

Toilet decor. Seriously. I went there.

So the invites were sent out early, and we anticipated around 50 folks to come and celebrate with us.  Including our bun in the oven, we had exactly 48 revelers.

After everyone had gone, we took a photo of ourselves
since we had neglected to get one earlier.

The bump and I were beyond exhausted, and OH SO HAPPY!

Amazingly (or perhaps not so much so), we never once played Miley's "Party in the USA". I might be the only one slightly disappointed over this in hindsight, but I'll survive.

What Not to Say to a Pregnant Woman_Part 1

Let me be clear: this is a list of what not to EVER UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCE say to a pregnant woman, FOR THE LOVE OF GOD << yes, I'm SHOUTING WHEN I'M IN ALL CAPS >>.

1. You're looking plump.
- Since when is the word "plump" complimentary? Seriously.  How about something like, "Look at your round belly!" or simply keeping your mouth shut?

2. Maybe the guys hitting on you from their passing hooptie thought you were a prostitute.
- Oh. Em. Geeeeeeeeeee.  Seriously?  What part of this comment is EVER UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCE appropriate to say to a woman, regardless of whether or not she's pregnant?  I don't have an alternative suggestion because there's just no reason to substitute something else for this. FILTERS, PEOPLE. Put your filters on when you're around hyper-sensitive, progesterone-poisoned preggsters.

3. I didn't recognize you since you've filled out.
- A kind alternative to this statement might be, "It's been a while! It's good to see you."  Do not EVER UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCE point out to a pregnant woman that she has "filled out," even when she has the sweetest little 10-fingers, 10-toes reason to have grown in the first place.  THIS IS THE ONLY TIME IN MY LIFE, PEOPLE, WHERE WE SHOULD CELEBRATE WEIGHT GAIN.  It's new life we're talking about.  I'm growing a baby. Filling out is part of the gig.  Back off.

That's all for this week. Stay tuned! I'm sure folks will continue to fuel many more parts to this particular blog topic.

Naturalization complete

My spouse is now, officially, both US American and Bolivian. He's got all the rights and privileges that I << and maybe you, too, if you're a US citizen >> do, with the single exception that he cannot serve as Commander In Chief.  In order to do that, you have to have been born in the US << hence the "Birthers," which has nothing at all to do with labor and deliver and is, quite frankly, offensive to those of us on track to give birth >>.  He can vote, he can be called for jury duty, he can travel with a US passport, etc. etc.

Last week we traveled to Chattanooga for his swearing in ceremony.  It was a wonderful experience!  The ceremony was official, the courthouse was beautiful, and it was a truly compelling opportunity to see what is possible.  Here's a montage of how things went that day.

Mo, Me, DWagg, A, and the hubs posing
for a photo, pre-swearing in.

The judge invited me and the bump to join him
and the hubs in the photo. We're so proud!

It's official!

And then it was time for lunch.
Did I mention Rolo was with us?

He was sporting a blue harness with a red leash- dashing, no?

At lunch, and Mom insisted we drink our water out of
her patriotic, plastic cups!  I'm not sure she could get any cuter.

We raised our glasses! 

Emotion Processor Needs a Re-Boot

My capacity to process emotions is officially on the fritz.

This is a processor. I think. What do I know about computers?

Example 1. There's no more food.
I arrived to church on a Wednesday night about 15 minutes after the start time for dinner.  THERE WAS NO FOOD LEFT. Okay, there was a bowl of corn, a bowl of mixed greens, a variety of salad dressings, and some garlic bread.  I dropped my fiver in the plate and subsequently watched as quick hands snatched up the last 4 slices of pizza that I had been hedging over a willingness to eat in the first place.

I just about burst into tears.

I wasn't *starving* at that point.  I had an hour, at most, before I would be.  It officially became hard to see straight.  Pretty ridiculous, right?  There are pregnant women all over the world who don't get adequate nutrition. I ought to just suck it up when I have to wait an extra half hour to eat. Sheesh.

Example 2. She just fell down (up).
I had 3 letters in my left hand, my purse was on my left shoulder, and I was making my way up the stairs at work to put the envelopes through the postage machine.  Three steps from the top I tumbled forward << Thank God it wasn't backwards >>.  I landed on my legs, and it startled me.  One of my co-workers was at the top of the stairs, and there were 2 volunteers at the bottom of the stairs.  The downstairs group gasped audibly.  The upstairs chick mumbled something about center of balance being thrown off, or else she said something about carrying extra weight being a challenge...  Either way, I was mortified.  I landed on my legs, and it startled me.  I was paying attention.  I was climbing stairs normally.  I was wearing sandals that were well-attached to my feet.

There's no reasonable explanation for the tumble.  I felt extremely embarrassed and a little upset that NO ONE said, "Jess, are you okay?"  So I franked the envelopes and went to the post office,  driving there all the while teetering between bursting into fits of laughter or tears.  Seriously.

Example 3. She was listening to her favorite song. Seriously.
So my current favorite song is "Stand Up" by Sugarland. There's this one part where it's just Jennifer and Kristian singing (all the music fades), and for me it's powerful the way they harmonize the lyric, "Won’t you stand up/ Stand Up/ Stand Up/ Won’t you stand up you girls and boys?"  Literally, it gets me every time.  This song came onto my radar after I got knocked up, so I can't say whether or not this is a common reaction that I'm having to the song, or if it's progesterone induced.  Either way, it's kind of lame how I get teary-eyed and choked up EVERY time I hear this song.


To give you an idea of how ludicrous it is to get emotionally wound up over it, here are the lyrics:

All the lonely people cryin’

It could change if we just get started

Life the darkness, light a fire

For the silent and the broken hearted

Won’t you stand up

Stand Up

Stand Up

Won’t you stand up you girls and boys?

Won’t you stand up

Stand Up

Stand Up

Won’t you stand up and use your voice?

There’s a comfort

There’s healing

High above the pain and sorrow

Change is coming

Can you feel it?

Calling us into a new tomorrow

Won’t you stand up

Stand Up

Stand Up

Won’t you stand up you girls and boys?

Won’t you stand up

Stand Up

Stand Up

Won’t you stand up and use your voice?

When the walls fall all around you

When your hope has turned to dust

Let the sound of love surround you

Beat like a heart in each of us

Won’t you stand up

Stand Up

Stand Up

Won’t you stand up you girls and boys?

Won’t you stand up

Stand Up

Stand Up

Won’t you stand up and use your voice?

Example 4. Did you write your thank you note?
I was raised in the old school where you hand write a thank you note, stamp it, and snail mail it to your gift-giver. Period. No exceptions.  I'm proud to say I've been on my A-Game since the attention, favors, and gifts started pouring in.

Lots of folks will tell you that when you're pregnant, your short-term memory fades.  They're not lying.  A couple weeks ago a gift card arrived in the mail from one of my aunts. .. talk about thoughtful and generous!  Specific instructions read, "Buy something for yourself!"  I can totally appreciate that.  So I wrote the thank you note, hung onto it for a day until I was able to get to the post office to buy stamps, and subsequently dropped the note in to the mail... I think << I have a very clear, cognizant memory of writing the note and stamping the note. Mailing the note is fuzzy because I handled a lot of mailings last week >> .

So my mom calls last night and said my aunt is wondering if we got their gift card.  I toed the edge of turning into a monster at that very moment.  As my father-in-law would say, !Casi me volvi mona! I held it together enough to not snap off my mom's head through the phone... barely.  I did, however, explain to her my recollections, and I got off the phone quickly because my fuse was getting shorter and shorter.

In theory, that particular conversation should not have gotten me riled up even slightly.  But it did, and in a big way no less.  It's absurd how upset I was.  I blame all this silly progesterone for my reactions, and I'll say it again: My Emotion Processor Needs a Re-Boot.

The Name Game

It's begun. Lucky for us, attempting to name our passenger is a barrel of laughs.  During numerous baby-naming conversations, we have in fact laughed until we cried.

Unfortunately, to try to describe some of those conversations would only come across as awkward and not-funny. So I'll spare you the lost effort of trying to understand our strange, parents-to-be humor.

I will say this. We've got a big task ahead of us, for three very important reasons.

First, the spelling.  We want a name that will have the same spelling in both Spanish and English.  That's harder than you might think. An example is found in two of my favorite little boy names: Nicholas and Alexander. In Spanish, that would be Nicolas and Alejandro.  We're not quite in agreement as to whether or not the pronunciation of the name in either language should change, but if the pronunciation doesn't change, then we're even *more* limited.

Second conundrum is the syllabic content. The cadence of the kids name is important.  It's got to have a nice flow.  Last name, Bocangel,  has 3 syllables.  We don't want a 3-3-3 name.  People would start yawning halfway through the little dude's middle name.  I'm thinking a 2-4-3 or a 2-1-3 cadence would sound nice.

Example of a 2-4-3: Jacob Mariano Bocangel

Example of a 2-1-3:  William Luke Bocangel

*Disclaimer: neither of those 2 options are ones that we love- I'm just making a point here.

Third, can the name pass the test? Let's face it: kids are mean.  So let's suppose we get through steps 1 and 2, and we have a viable option.  Then I put on my "cruel middle school thinking cap" and I make fun of the possible name of my child.  I'm as brutal as possible, because quite frankly, kids will be.  And I don't want to set mine up for ridicule.  This part is always where we wind up in tears from laughing so hard because I'm pretty creative when it comes to making fun of names when I put my mind to it.

All of this to say we've got a significant task ahead of us.  So don't be surprised if we call our little man nick names like, "Son, Love, Baby Boy" etc. before actually naming him when he's 5 and we've finally found the perfect name.

It's a... Surprise!

Well, sort of.  We know the gender of our baby.  We even knew for a few hours before our family found out.  As a little girl, I always wanted to wait to be surprised with either a little boy or girl upon their arrival.  I always thought I'd convince whatever man became my husband and the subsequently father of my child to think the same way.  Then there's the reality of finding out we're expecting a baby.  Everything I *thought* I'd do a certain way... well, it seems like I'm not really doing it that way.

Like finding out the gender.  We decided to go for it.  As a bit of a compromise, we opted to have a "Gender Revealing Party."  << Okay, okay, I know. It sounds a little awkward.  Would you prefer we call it a "Baby Sex Party"?  That's 100 times worse, and it would probably land us on the pedophile/predator list... I digress >>.

So the big day arrived (04/08/2011). We show up for our appointment at 9 am for the usual routine- pee in a cup, check weight, blood pressure. Everything looks good.  We take a seat, indicating aloud that we're excited for the ultrasound.  The nurse says, "Um, we don't have you down for an ultrasound." WHAT?  There has to be a mistake. We've been looking forward to our anatomy ultrasound- we've even planned a party to surprise our family with the news that requires an ANATOMY ULTRASOUND.  The nurse leaves, and the doctor comes back.  They can get us in at 3:15 that day. Of course Preggo breaks down into tears, and the hubs is extremely sweet and supportive << he later admitted that he was as upset as I was, but he knew I was expressing enough for both of us >>. The office promises to call us if they get a cancellation sooner.  Distraught, I head back to work. Less than an hour back at work we get a call- they can see us at 12:30.  WHEW!

Well... which is it?!?

The little runt did not disappoint! Within the first 15 seconds we got our answer.  Then for the next 15 minutes, we chased the wiggle worm all around my womb checking for fingers, toes, heart function, brain formation, bone length, and all that good, sweet, 'growing a baby' stuff. My passenger weighs a whopping 12 ounces! We've got a 3/4 pounder on board.

So now we could finalize the details for the big reveal!  Colors for the party were fun and gender neutral: green, orange, and yellow.

We had some jelly beans in a bowl, iced lemon and orange sugar cookies, and in the background of the pic below are the yellow packages that each family opened, contents inside revealing whether we're having a BOY or GIRL..

 We used the balloons to create XX and XY wall chromosomes.

  We had some orange flowers and framed ultrasound photos.

 Yellow flowers and more framed ultrasound pics.

A hand-made sign to welcome the guests...

 A fruit bowl, with - you guessed it - oranges, lemons, and limes!

We also had a couple of pitchers of ice water with slices of lemons and limes, but we didn't photograph those.  Now for the actual reveal, I'd heard about putting food coloring in the cake and then covering it with icing so no one knows until it's cut what the gender is.  While I always like the idea of cake, I don't particularly love the idea of eating a pink or blue cake.  I could give you pink cake- in my head, I can assume it's strawberry flavored... but blue? Yuck!

So we opted for little goody bags for everyone to open at the same time.  They were wrapped in yellow tissue paper, tied with orange and green ribbons.  Inside was a seed packet with wildflower seeds (either pink and red or blue and purple flower seeds) with a label that said either a sweet little girl or a precious little boy was in bloom.

Team XX pictured here!

Team XY pictured here!

I guess you want to know what was in the package.  It would be very cruel of me not to tell you, wouldn't it?

IT'S A BOY!!!

For fun, we added a little package with 2 wrapped almonds, held together with a blue clip.  Here we are, proud to announce that we're having a son... The Bocangel name will carry on for at least another generation!

It's true! XY = BOY.

Bryan was sweet and clever to make us some "Buns in the oven"

So now you know!  Baby Boc is of the sweet little boy variety.  Sorry, no name decisions just yet.  Stay tuned!