Baby Fat and Everything Else
Meet Ducky. My friend Brennan gave the little one this nickname after seeing that first ultrasound photo. She thought it was odd to call the baby “it” and ducky’s are cute and yellow and fuzzy and gender neutral so we’ll take it. I promise I will let all of you know what the baby is as soon we find out. I KNOW MOM, you already knowI am having a girl. (Secretly I think she is praying I have a daughter so I can know what it feels like to want to lock someone in their room for a good eight years).
Also in this first ultrasound taken at 8-weeks, I am pretty sure you can make out some fat cheeks that resemble mine when I smile really hard. The possibility of the baby being fat thrills my friend Shannon, as she asks nearly every time we speak if I can guarantee a fat baby. I will tell you what I told her – “Can’t guarantee a fat baby, but I’m pretty sure I’m doing everything in my power to guarantee a fat mommy”. Just so you know, when your boss says, “So, looking for all the clothes in your closet without a restrictive waist?” you know you are showing.
Since I like to live my life as an open book I will tell you that as of of 13-week doctor’s appointment I had gained ten pounds. Now, I must also tell you that I am completely fine with this given that I ran the NYC Half-Marathon right before I found out baby was on board. Based on no medical equation whatsoever, I figure 5 pounds is from Ducky and 5 pounds is because I need a new word for tired…running for hours at a time is not really on my list of things to do right now.
But here is what I am not comfortable with. At the same 13-week appointment, my physician told me to lay down on the examining table and unzip my pants so we could listen to the heartbeat of the baby. I did so and she told me to push my pants further down on my waist so we could get to the appropriate place Ducky is chillin’.
Hmmmm….this was when things became not so funny. As much as I tried to push my pants over my hips, they wouldn’t budge. My kind and honest doctor said, “Looks like you are just about ready for maternity clothes…”
To which I replied, “Really? I hadn’t noticed,” as my supportive friend sat in the corner pretending to be consumed with the blackberry. Thank you supportive friend. I appreciate your ability to withhold a look of amusement with the fat pants comment along with your ability to refrain from looking horrified when the pending postpartum hair loss was discussed.
So as I do my best impression of fat woman in little pants, I discover that success in getting the pants over the hips existed in clenching of the butt cheeks.
FINALLY – we all get to hear my favorite heartbeat in the entire world, loud and clear…which is really the most important part of this blog.
Not to sound totally sappy, but that little heartbeat has already helped me to see so much more love than I knew existed in this world – love from all of you. I can’t thank you enough and I feel bad that I don’t have time to update you all personally about me and Ducky…so I figured a blog might help. I hope you enjoy it, even if it is a bit impersonal.
Next post should include a count of how many times I have peed in a 24 hour period. As of 4:45pm today I am pretty sure we are at approximately 14 times, but since I am serious television journalist, inaccuracies will not do. So look forward to a very accurate number next time around.