A Tall Girl's Adventures in a Tiny World

Just when I start to feel really blech about my body -- when I look in the mirror and think, wow, have you got a long way to go, so long in fact that you should probably just buy a potato sack to keep you warm while you sit on the sofa gobbling all those cookies -- I trip upon something that puts things back into perspective. Read this mommy's love letter to herself , and view the love letter from her husband that prompted it. I defy you not to see the beauty in these stretch marks, or to realize how amazing the human body really is. Yes, I've got a long way to go. But this doughy middle has grown, birthed, and nurtured two humans. Two! Whole! People! The tiger stripes on my stomach remind me of the wonder of those pregnancy days, when every cell of my body rippled and stretched with new life. The scar above my pelvis recalls the pain and the sacrifice and the sleeplessness that I've survived. The slight sag of my breasts tells of the snuggly story of nursing a pudgy, love...

Here we are, kiddo. Just about 12 hours from our first meeting, the first time I see your little face and count your tiny fingers. I can think of nothing else right now. This is what it sounds like in my brain: babybabybabybabybabybabybabybabybaby. There's so much I want to tell you about the world you're about to enter. But most of it can wait. Someday I'll tell you about what a cold, snowy, gray winter it's been -- how I sat around gestating through the entire winter, too big and clumsy to dare walk outside, while your father shoveled almost 80 inches of snow. Someday I'll tell you about how each day I try to watch the news but turn it off after 5 minutes because it just makes me sad. Someday I'll tell you about the political and financial blech that grips our country right now, the anxiety and uncertainty we all face each day. Someday I'll tell you about the giant earthquakes striking across the globe that make me think that Mother Nature is, in fact, t...

Ah, babies. They generate so many questions: How was it made? How will it come out? What will it do when it gets here? What do I do when it gets here? How will it change my life? These are questions even grown-ups wrestle with. But can you imagine being 4, witnessing your mommy expanding exponentially, wondering what the heck is actually going on in there when you see the ripples and hear Mommy giggling (or sighing/moaning/whining) about it? You can barely imagine sharing your toys with your cat, let alone a whole other person -- so you know this is going to be very hard but you'll do your best because it will make Mom and Daddy happy. You keep hearing about how you have to be a big brother, how you have to learn how to get your own sneakers on, how you will have to set a good example. You wait and you wait and you wait, then they tell you that Mommy has to go to the hospital for a few days, where the doctor will help her get the baby out. Hmm. But they still haven't told you, ...

I realized the other day that most of my writings over the last few months have focused on the negative. Gross! I suppose writing is my outlet, the place I barf up all the things that weigh me down. But I don't want to be Negative Nelly or Debbie Downer anymore. So let's talk about something really fantastic and amazing and wonderful and happy that's about to happen in my life: BABY! BABY! BABY! In just over two weeks, I'll be checking into the hospital for my second c-section. While I'm not thrilled about the idea of another surgical delivery (ouch!) and recovery (long, extended ouch!) I have started to feel giddy at the thought of holding a small, warm, cuddly little person in my arms. After discussing an alternative pain medication with my doc, I'm even starting to look forward to a few days in the hospital. Crazy? Maybe...but when was the last time you had a few days to just lie in bed with complete control over the TV remote and let people bring you food a...

Since the moment I peed on the stick and discovered I was pregnant, I have been nervous about delivery. Sweet Boy was very large -- 10 and a half pounds with a 14-inch-circumference head -- and he was born a week past his due date by scheduled c-section. I did not like the c-section delivery. It was not what I'd planned or imagined, it was not like those episodes of "A Baby Story" that I watched on TLC for years. I did not get to hold my baby right away -- not for 5 hours, actually -- and I will always feel sad about that. Oh, and there was the pain...weeks and weeks of pain as that incision healed. In my first pre-natal appointment this time, I told my doctor that I want to try a VBAC delivery. She smiled and said ok, but there was a hint of "this lady is crazy" in the smile. And as the pregnancy rolled along, I had to come to grips with another c-section looming in my near future. Then Sweet Boy and I stumbled across a live c-section birth on the Today Show (a...

[Warning: What follows is a whole lot of "poor me." I won't be hurt if you choose to just skip this and hop over to Perez Hilton or some site more interesting. Or, feel free to comment something along the lines of "Suck it up, you whiny brat, there are thousands of people dying in Haiti now. Your life is just fine."] I am low on patience and compassion this morning, and though I feel a little bad about that, I need to vent a bit now. My husband, who is also my best friend and companion through good times and bad, has a nasty head cold. You know I adore him and I'm sorry that he feels awful, bt I'm also a bit jealous and grouchy that he can lie in bed moaning for two days because he has some congestion pain in his ear and head. I probably should be doting over him, making him homemade chicken soup and rubbing Vicks on his chest or something. But no. I'm griping. You know why? Because not only do I have symptoms of this same head cold, including a sea...

I believe people come in and out of our lives for a reason, whether they step into your path and stay for a lifetime or a few years. Or maybe only for a college semester or a week at summer camp, or for just two days at a professional seminar -- or even for three minutes at a checkout counter. Sometimes you just need to pay attention. Today I had one of those checkout counter experiences. I realized this morning that I'm in my 30th week of this pregnancy. Just 10 weeks left until Baby DeeDee makes his/her appearance. Which, at the pace my life has gone this past year, might as well be 10 minutes. And although I'm excited to meet this little gift, I've spent most of this past, oh, 25 weeks feeling incredibly anxious about the pregnancy and our new addition. Why would we upset the happy balance we have here in our family? Will Sweet Boy love and adore his younger sibling, or will he envy and dislike him/her? How will I be able to give my attention to two children, when one su...

Dear Designers, Manufacturers, & Retailers of Maternity Clothing, We, the expecting moms of the world, have a few requests we'd like you to consider when creating your garments. Realize that even though we are pregnant, we have not become fashion retarded. Surely you can come up with something other than empire waistlines and ties in the back. And I'd kinda like a dress that doesn't look like a mumuu, thanks. Underpants still need to stay put even when one is pregnant. There's nothing that puts me in a bad mood faster than standing up and realizing my underwear has drooped into a bunch across my rear. Please find an alternative to the "under belly" waistband (which doesn't stay up) or full panel (which reaches all the way to my boobs...and still doesn't stay up). I am so tired of pulling up my pants! Why do all necklines plunge so dramatically? And why are these tops so sheer? Do you really think that now is a time, with the gigantic breasts and th...

Once again we sat with baited breath (and maxed-out bladder) at an ultrasound appointment, only to discover that our unborn child is a modest little stinkerpants. Here's the exact conversation as the procedure wound down, at the big drum-rolling climax of the scene: U/S tech: OK, let's find out if this is a pink baby or blue...hmm...here's the legs...here's the rump...here's between the legs...ummm...this is the umbilical cord...umm...hmm... Me: What do you think, Bachman? Do you see a winky? Chris: Um, I don't see what you're even talking about. U/S tech: Well, here's the left leg, here's the right leg, here's the butt...jeez, this kid is in a bad spot... Me: [Wincing as the tech digs that little wand into my belly to cajole baby out of its cozy spot] I don't see a winky...is it a...? Chris: No, wait, I see it...what's that? U/S tech: I'm gonna say girl...but wait...no...what's that? Me: I don't see anything. Chris: What is t...

There's a lot that goes on while one is expecting that is, in fact, unexpected. For instance, there are times you sneeze and come close to peeing your pants...hmm, unexpected. Or sometimes you step on the scale and find you've gained five pounds in a week, even though you've been nauseous and sleeping most of that time...also unexpected. Bad skin is unexpected, since everyone talks about glowing and whatnot. And widening feet is fairly odd and unexpected. But my favorite unexpected moments come when you break the news that you're knocked up to friends, family, and colleagues. Here is just a sampling of my favorite reactions to the big news, collected from both my pregnancies: Are you sure Chris is the father? (asked by one of my husband's female colleagues at a Christmas party...fabulous) Will you breastfeed? (asked by a male coworker during my first pregnancy, while standing with a group of people at a lunch function) Why? Oh, thank God, I was afraid you'd neve...

Hi, my friends. Sorry I've been away for a while. I had to get through August, my most hated, dreaded month. I won't get into my many "boo-August!" feelings, but let's just say now that there's cooler air, I'm a happier girl. It's been a wacky few weeks in a number of ways, and it's time I catch you up. I've been anxious and emotional, swollen and achy. I've been tired beyond reason, most nights falling asleep in Sweet Boy's bed as we say prayers. I've been dealing with 24/7 nausea and a complete lack of appetite, yet I've managed to gain 7 pounds. My exercise routine is suffering greatly; I count it as a good week if I get out for a 45-minute walk 3 days. And I've given up my two favorite beverages, coffee and wine. However, right around last weekend, I started to feel human again (or at least not as nauseous and a tad less tired), even though I have to loop a rubberband through the buttonholes in order to fasten my pants. ...