Wednesday, June 29, 2011

Pregnant in Over-priced Flip Flops

While yesterday seemed to go well--I had my appointment with the midwife. I heard the baby's heartbeat, I've gained no weight, and my blood pressure is awesome. I've had a two week break from morning sickness. I still couldn't really eat normally (clearly one of those girls who writes those skinny bitch cookbooks is trapped inside my stomach), but at least I didn't want to hide in the covers or have to carry a bag in the car. However, yesterday, my "morning sickness" came back with avengence. To make matters worse, to my child's horror, I got sick in the car on the way to camp. THEN, I found a tick in my hair during my lame attempt at teaching this morning. (It's a little hard to teach when only four students show up) Of course, most woman would be running to the internet to look up TICKS and Pregnancy. I, on the other hand, do not need to look it up. Instead, I am firmly convinced that the tick came from my Lush hair products. I've pulled full-fledged flowers from my shampoo before. Instead of putting, "Inspected by 23453," they put the picture of the person who packaged your product. I swear those people are up to no good. It's freaky to have all those people smiling at you in the shower...






Tory Burch is not getting a cent from me



At my grandmother's request (for while she cannot see me, she can sense all the way from Arizona that I'm starting to look terrible in my normal clothes), I went shopping for a few maternity clothes. Motherhood Maternity is out. Mostly because their clothes are ugly. So, I went to A Pea in the Pod. I'm not exactly sure why I went there. They don't sell clothes larger than, well, a large. However, when I walked in, the lanky, yet cute, bubbly sales girl convinced me that I'd "totally be able to fit in the clothes." I should have known she was insane when she smacked me lightly on the arm and said, "Oh, don't be sillly. You're not big at all. We'll find tons of stuff." I think, I'd rather be called a fat cow that be told that I'm not big at all. Well, that bubbly, skinny, salesgirl with the good intentions, pulled every piece of clothing she could find from the racks and NOTHING...nothing fit. Apparently, my boobs are bigger than skinny pregnant ladies' bellies. Despite my annoyance at trying everything in the store on, I felt rather smug in proving my point.


I don't understand. Why is it so hard to find cute pregnancy clothes? I refuse to believe that every other woman in the world fits into those tiny little tops. Woman are always telling me how they gained 40, 50, 70 pounds during pregnancy. (at which point, I get to be smug...). They can't possibly still fit into things..can they?

Oddly, I'm finding much better luck with regular clothes in regular stores: Old Navy summer dresses still work and Lilly Pulitzer. Somehow, normal xl Lilly Pulitzer fit my ever expanding belly perfectly and maternity Lilly that they sell at Pea in the Pod, I can't fit my head in.



When I was finished not finding much, I thought I'd take a peak at the flip flops my friends all wear. Tory Burch flip flops. I went into the Tory Burch store and they didn't have the flip flops my friends wear. All they had were the hot pink jelly flip flops. $125! $125! Are you out of your mind? They are flip flops! To be fair to my friends, whom I adore, and who I wish I could share clothes with, most of them wear the regular Tory Burch flip flops, which don't cost anything close to $125. However, despite the heavy-price tag and despite my horror, I still really really wanted over-priced flip flops. So, the next weekend, I went to Franklin Mills north of Philly, and bought Diane von Furstenberg over-priced flip flops..on SALE.



So while I can't fit into A Pea in the Pod clothes or wear Tory Burch, I am pregnant in Lilly Pulitzer dresses and Diane von Furstenberg flip flops.


















Tuesday, June 14, 2011

Gabriel--did I hear you correctly?

Yesterday, I forgot to mention the most amusing part of all: the due date. I realize that in the scheme of things, it's simply a guessing game and really, it means nothing. However, this has to mean something. My Jewish baby is due on December 25. I knew there was a reason I like to write about Jews and Jesus!

Monday, June 13, 2011

Morning Sickness Meet Sweet Orange Drink

I'd like to think that despite my on and off boo-hooing over my less than perfect figure, I'm a rather self-assured, confidant girl. Of course, what I'd like to think and what I really think don't always match...


Apparently, these past ten years of being less than perfect were really just a small bump in the road to the ultimate test: The Glucose Test. Most women experience this test after their 24th week of pregnancy. In other words, most women drink the disgusting, sickly sweet orange goo when they are at the height of the glowing 2nd trimester. They are no longer sick; no one has yet asked them if they are having twins. It's just a little break in their day where they get to sit on a comfy lounge chair and watch Rachael Ray with other pregnant women. Of course, as webmd states, " The test is generally given between the 24th and 28th week of pregnancy. If you have had gestational diabetes before, or if your health care provider is concerned about your risk of developing gestational diabetes, the test may be performed before the 13th week of pregnancy."


Who are these lovely ladies that must take the test before the 13th? Either woman that already had gestational diabetes and....me. 9 weeks pregnant and sick as a sorority girl after a frat party there I was drinking the disgusting orange Glocola. If that wasn't bad enough, I managed to fail test number one (where the Glocola has 50 g of glucose and you have to sit for one hour), and I had to take the dreaded test two: the THREE HOUR TEST where the Glucola has 100 g of glucose. There is nothing worse than drinking sugar when your morning sickness lasts morning, noon, and night. There is nothing worse than the nurse asking you over and over again if you are alright. And there is nothing worse than wasting three hours of your day in the doctors waiting room and then the rest of the day in bed, and then finding out...you passed the Test! I can tolerate glucose.


Did I ever have gestational diabetes? No. However, I'm, as my mother says, fluffy, so clearly, I must have diabetes.


When I called my doctors office to make my first appointment, I was informed that my doctor, whom I loved, was no longer delivering babies. Stupid medical malpractice suits...The secretary started listing other doctors that I might want to use. After a few moments, I interrupted her. "Um, I'm a bit, uh, chubby, and I need a doctor that will know how to handle it and will be NICE to me." The secretary pauses, takes a breath, and gives the name of a completely different doctor. Apparently, the 12 other doctors she listed can handle only skinny women with small chests and no butts. My new doctor is a very tall African American woman who tells me to chill out, and then shrugs her shoulders and says, "I guess you shouldn't really gain more than 10 to 15 pounds." I think I love her. Although, when I ran into my old doctor the other day, I had to sit and cry in the car for fifteen minutes because I missed her. (it may have been the progesterone pills crying)


Ugh. It doesn't help that at 12 weeks, I look more like 24 weeks. As Nordstrom pointed about at the pool the other day while she waved her hand at my stomach, " I think it's getting pretty obvious." She's right, it is.