a reminder: i'm not going to be pregnant forever. thank goodness.

Oh man, 38 weeks! I had forgotten how during that last month of pregnancy you wake up each day to an even bigger bump. It's terrifying and awesome and crazy all at once. Truth: I am not the *best* pregnant person out there. With both of my pregnancies I have been moody and generally uncomfortable. I'm not someone who enjoys or cherishes the miracle, unfortunately. Sure, there are a few weeks tucked in there sometime during the second trimester when I can feel the baby wiggle its wiggle and I catch myself thinking, Oh wow this is really cool. But most of the time I'm a total cranky, grump. You know those I'm Sorry for What I Said tees? Well, someone really needs to make me one for pregnancy. 

A question I had a lot lately is whether or not my two pregnancies have been at all similar. The answer is both yes and no. (Both of my bumps are pictured above.) When pregnant with Cecile, during the first trimester I certainly felt fatigued and queasy in a hungover sort of way. That was cruel, too, as I wasn't drinking. But with this kiddo, I was a flat-on-her-back, sea-sick-band-wearing chica. No fun. Also not fun this go-around was that I totally missed out on whatever "honeymoon" the second trimester usually gifts pregnant women. I swear, whatever small sniffle or cough Cecile brought home this winter, I would catch and the disease would just THRIVE. I am not employing hyperbole when I say I was fighting one bug or another from the day after Thanksgiving until mid-March. And now in the third trimester, the Braxton Hicks are strong, yo. I get it that your body has been through all this before and it's just amping up and exercising for the Big Day, but damn, thank goodness I know what real contractions feel like or I'd be checking myself into the hospital with false labor every other day. 

On a positive note, something that has been better this go-around: my skin. Granted, the majority of this pregnancy spanned over the winter months when my complexion is better anyway, but there were no high school-style hormone surges that seemed to mess with it. I'm grateful for that, too, because the last thing you need when your body is going through so many changes and you're often feeling frumpy is to backpedal to a point in your life you felt most insecure, ha. As for cravings, with Cecile I craved all things citrus and sour (lemonade, anyone?), but with this pregnancy it's been more about avoiding certain foods. Fish, for example, I had to steer clear of for the entire first trimester, even though it's been my favorite food for forever. These days I make a point of cooking salmon once or twice a week--it's for the baby, easy to throw together, and Cecile loves it to boot--but I'd be lying if I didn't tell you white fish still turns me off a bit. Hoping that's something that disappears after I deliver.

Speaking of delivery, I'm crazy anxious to find out if this baby is a boy or girl. Because I still haven't a clue, honestly. Last pregnancy I would've sworn up and down to you that Cecile was a boy (we didn't know with her, either), so I am really not confident in any inklings I may have. As for carrying a certain way, a comment I most love (or hate?) is, "Oh you're not that big!" Seriously, people. Next person who says that to me, my response will be, "Neither are you!!" On that note, a funny story: The other day I asked Jon what he thought we're having and he says, "A boy, because you're carrying wider this time." Seriously, love the man, but sometimes the man doesn't think before speaking. And for the record, I think I'm carrying exactly the same as last time, thank you very much.

In any case, the anticipation is killing me, and I'm ready to know for certain that the baby is healthy and alright. Oh! But mostly I'm excited for Cecile! Seriously, I know it's going to be a challenge to juggle two kids instead of one, but I'm lucky enough to know firsthand just how truly awesome it is to have siblings and I am so excited to see the type of big sister Cecile will be :) :) x.

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birth story.

I watched the most beautiful documentary last night. Jon was out of town and so after Cecile went to sleep, I curled up on the couch with a glass of wine and "Birth Story: Ina May Gaskin & the Farm Midwives," which is now available on iTunes. More than once during the film, my eyes welled with tears of joy and awe at the sight of courageous women becoming mothers. Ina May Gaskin changed the way so many people view natural birth--from something to be feared, to something that is challenging but rewarding beyond words. 

I delivered Cecile in a hospital without an epidural. It was my mother who encouraged me to try natural birth. She had worked as a labor-and-delivery nurse at Georgetown University Hospital at about the same time Gaskin was traveling the country with a commune of spiritually-seeking hippies, delivering children on the road with nary a doctor nor epidural in sight. "[Natural childbirth] was not common then," Mom told me this morning. "But there was one other nurse who was a friend of mine who had done it; she really inspired me to try." Late in my pregnancy, after I made the decision to try a natural birth, I was so lucky to have Mom's you-can-do-its to drown out the prevailing "you're crazy" voiced by so many. On the night Cecile was born, I labored on the phone with my mom until Jon got home from work (something that took a while, given that my contractions started in ernest in the thick of the evening rush hour), and then again once I got to the hospital when the contractions were coming one after another after another. She gave me the courage to work with every contraction, to work with my body. Yes, the pain was great, but the highs were greater. And so much of what my mother told me that night is echoed in the film, which is perhaps why it resonated with me so much. There need to be more encouraging voices out there, letting you know that natural birth is possible, it is beautiful, and that you are capable.

Now, to be clear, I do not envision myself delivering a second child on a farm with a midwife in a bath, but back in a hospital with an OB/GYN. What you may envision for your child's birth may not be the way it plays out, which is why I like the option of an available OR just down the hall, just in case. Of course, how to have a baby is an extremely personal decision. And whether you hope to labor with or without medication, with a midwife or with doctor, at its heart, Birth Story is a film about mothers and the courage it takes to become one. And for that reason alone I recommend it to any mom or mom-to-be this Mother's Day, irregardless of your birth choices. Happy viewing.

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onesie cupcakes

 

Apparently when you work in D.C.--where there's a boutique cupcakery on every corner--even your baby gifts come wrapped as cupcakes. Case and point: Yesterday I returned from lunch to find a box sitting on my desk, and inside were four "cupcakes" made of swaddles and onesies. It was--dare I say?--the sweetest gift :) I had to share with you all ... if only for me to make a mental note to do this for a friend in the future. All you need are the onesies and blankets, a baker's box, some basket coffee filters, and twine and bows. Smart! And pretty darned cute, if you ask me.

Thanks, Diana & Eve!

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nesting: laundry room edition

credit: Lucketts

The nesting has taken over. And, no, it's not limited to the nursery. I have taken a keen interest in organizing and cleaning and perfecting everything--everything!--in our house. If it is a tangible object, it can be improved, my instincts tell me. Yesterday, for example, for the first time ever, I ironed sheets. Sheets! Well, OK: not sheets, but the comforter that goes on top of the sheets. Which is maybe worse. I mean, it's a comforter; it's made of down and is supposed to be fluffy. What's funny, too, is that about halfway through my mad ironing I realized that it was, indeed, mad. "Why am I ironing this?" I asked Jon. "I have no idea," was all he could muster, even though his raised eyebrows were saying, What has happened to my sane, rational wife? I have no clue, darling.

In any case, my nesting has brought two new things to our laundry room and I thought I'd share. First: a solution for lost socks. While I don't mind laundry, I absolutely hate lost socks. And Jon's socks always go missing. Nevermind that they all look the same, too. Well, I found this iron sign at the online store of my favorite area antiques shops, the Old Lucketts Store in Leesburg, Virginia. Missing a sock? Just clip until it's mate shows up in the next load or two. Wonderful, I say.

 

Another thing that had been driving me crazy lately was our drippy-drippy laundry detergent. See this icky mess dribbling down the container's sides, pooling on the shelves, and collecting stray lint from the laundry loads? Yuck:

 

Never fear! Despite detergent companies' inability to devise a no-drip container for their cleaning solutions, I came up with a, errrr, solution solution: Buy one of the many beverage dispensers on sale this time of year and pour your detergent into it. Measure out what you need using the spigot, et voila, you'll have clean laundry without the sticky mess on your shelves. I hope, someday soon, when I've been spit-up on, haven't showered or slept in days, and am starting my eighth load of laundry in 24 hours, that I find as much joy in this "solution solution" as I do now, as a semi-rational, partially-mad person with the wrinkle-free comforter.

For anyone who is interested, I used long-lost gift certificates (rediscovered when organizing our desk!) to purchase the Mason Jar Drink Dispenser from Pottery Barn, and our wallpaper is Laundrette in yellow from Thibaut Designs' Canterbury collection.

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diaper dappler

 

As the oldest of six kids, I've changed my fair share of diapers on this earth. But it wasn't until I became a mom-to-be and started talking to friends with kids that I realized the diaper discussion branched out much further than cloth verses disposable. Sure, I anticipated there would be a lot of chatter about cost and sustainability--after all, it is a sad truth that more than 3.5 million tons of diapers end up in landfills every year and eco-friendly brands bump-up the price of an already-expensive product. But I never thought your baby's bum would factor so much into the equation about which diaper to choose.

Before I go any further with this diaper discussion, let me disclose that Jon and I long ago decided to go the disposable route. We're going to be first-time parents and, apologies to all you cloth users out there, I think disposables are the quickest and most convenient way for us to catch a break. Sure, cloth diapers have come a long way since our parents used them and, sure, maybe once we get a handle on things we'll try them out, but for starters, we're going disposable. 

That said, which disposable? Not all disposable diapers are created equal, it turns out. In addition to the eco-factor, diapers differ from brand to brand in fit, absorbency, and leakage control. And while Pampers will likely be the first diaper to hit our baby's bottom in the hospital, that doesn't mean they'll be the best long-term. For example, boys tend to pee more in the front of the diaper (duh), while for girls the middle and back of the diaper does most of the absorbing. Some babies move around a lot and need a really snug fit around the thighs, while others will find that uncomfortable. Some babies have super-sensitive skin, and then there's the whole day-verses-night thing. But without going out and buying and trying several brands of diapers, what's a mama to do?

Enter: The Diaper Dappler ...

 

The Diaper Dappler ships you three diapers of 12 different brands for about the cost of one pack of diapers. I ordered the "Mega Mom Sample Diaper Pack" for $29 and got a box of pre-packaged size-one diapers to try out once our boo arrives. (Once he or she graduates from the newborn size, that is.) Brands included in the pack are: Honest Company, Earth's Best TenderCare, Seventh Generation Free & Clear, Naty by Nature BabyCare, Nurtured by Nature, Huggies Pure & Natural, Pampers Swaddlers, Pampers Swaddlers Sensitive, Pampers Baby Dry, Huggies Snugglers, Huggies Snug & Dry, and Luvs Super Absorbent Leak Guards.

All in, you get a total of 36 diapers, as well as a score card so that you can rate the fit, feel, function, and overall likeability of each brand. So rather than over-thinking it by spending hours pouring over blog posts and Amazon reviews, in the matter of about three days (and several dozen dirty diapers), you'll have conducted your own research and come to a conclusion based on your very own babe's bum. Brilliant! Will let you know how it goes.

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changing the changing table

 

Now that we're in the home stretch, a lot of people have started asking, "Do you have the crib set up?" The answer is no. Despite my increasing tendency to waddle, we have yet to slow down this summer. If anything, knowing we'll be marooned all fall has caused us to skip town a lot, leaving us little time be responsible adults and tackle chores such as clearing off the desk in the room that will become the nursery. There could be a hint of denial at play here, too. After all, it's still hard to believe there will be another human living in our house--living here! not just visiting!--in the matter of weeks. That's a lot to wrap one's mind around. But to be fair, another reason we're dragging our feet is that there's a third party involved (or fourth, I guess, if you count the kid): We're waiting on Mr. Ed, our contractor.

I've mentioned before that our soon-to-be nursery is a small, small space. Granted, the space isn't New-York-City-closet small, but it's small enough that we have to be space conscious. Originally, I was going to ask Ed to dismantle the desk altogether so that we may stick the crib into the empty nook. But as I learned when I was putting together our baby registry, babies have a lot of stuff. So much stuff! And this room does not have a closet and, frankly, furniture is bulky. Then it dawned on me: Transform the desk into a dresser and changing table. (Brilliant, Liz. See: You're not all pregnancy brain.) And so began my search for something on which to base the project.

What I found was the "Madison Changing Table System" from Pottery Barn Kids. Drawers and cabinet space? Check. A place to change dirties? Check. Baskets for quick-grab go-tos such as clean diapers, cloths, lotions, and more? Check, check, check, and check. Though our space isn't wide enough to accommodate everything pictured in PBK's "system" (funny name, right?), it will be much deeper, which I think more than makes up for it. Best yet, when the kid no longer needs his or her diapers changed, we're going to throw a hanging bar or two where the changing table is and put up cabinet doors for extra closet space. So the built-in can grow with us well into the toddler years.

Well, I gave Ed the sketches a month ago. Two weeks ago, he said the project would be done in two weeks. When I called him on Monday to check in, he told me two weeks again. So I lied and said I was due in September. (Hey! It's possible!) So there. Maybe by this time next week I can update you dear, dear readers with how it looks and I can finally respond "yes" when someone asks about whether the crib is assembled. Here's hoping ...

spotted: my waist?

Fall is my favorite. The colors, the textures, the return of layers and boots and scarves--everything about the season's wardrobe appeals to me. Maybe it's because I know I'll be full-term in eight short weeks and that the end is near, maybe it's because patience has never been a strong suit of mine, maybe because it's human nature to want what you can't have, but these last few weeks have been very difficult for me not to purchase thousands of dollars worth of fall clothes. (Poor Jon.) 

 

Well, I have a confession to make: I caved. When this sweater appeared in the glossy pages of the latest J.Crew catalog, I couldn't say no. Just the thought of The September Issue thudding itself at my front door next week while me and my bump are still maxing out the maxi dresses was unbearable. In my defense, I caved in the best (naughtiest?) way possible: with cashmere. 

 

So there. I don't have the waist for it now, nor is 90-degree August heat exactly sweater weather. But I know the knit will be there in my drawer, waiting for me and my waist. Eight weeks until October.

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summer reading: le bebe edition

The day I told my mom I was pregnant, she went to the bookshelf and pulled out The Complete Book of Pregnancy and Childbirth by Sheila Kitzinger. "I've been saving this for you," she said. "I bought later editions as gifts for other moms, but nothing compares to the original." And with that she handed me the very book she referenced when she was pregnant with me. Sure enough, the woman on the cover had long, '70s-style hair fastened with a barrette and was rubbing a large, tented belly. The copyright read 1980.

It was the first of many books for expectant parents recommended or given to me over the next several months. Now that I'm switching to literature covering child care (namely, how to get an infant to sleep through the night, thank you), I thought I'd offer up an honest assessment of each read I thumbed through.

1. What to Expect When You're Expecting, the iPhone app

Okay, so I didn't break the bindings of Heidi Murkoff's iconic book. Like many Millennials, I downloaded the "What To Expect: Pregnancy" app onto my iPhone. For the most part, I liked it. The app gives you week-by-week updates about both your and your baby's development, as well as daily tips about subjects such as mercury levels in fish, swollen feet, or pregnancy-approved exercises. My favorite part was sizing-up our fetus to a fruit or vegetable every week ("Jon! Our baby's as big as a cucumber--your favorite!"). The drawback? As many of my friends have mentioned about Murkoff's book, the tone can be condescending at times and is full of advice that errs on the side of starting helicopter parenting in the womb. But I think the app has less of those drawbacks than the book. It's worth the download.

2. The Hot Mom to Be Handbook, by Jessica Denay

The best parts about Denay's book were in the sections dedicated to looking and feeling good while you balloon into shapes you once thought unimaginable. It was also great for finding the best stuff for you and your babe. Vain and materialistic? Yes. But when you've given up your entire being to create another being, I think you're entitled to some pretty things and pampering. Just saying. Some of the goodies listed are rather lux, and Denay lets you know if they're worth the splurge. But she also lists "bump on a budget" options, which I thought offered fair and honest comparisons. This read was also chalk-full of pregnancy dos and don'ts, some of which were great, some of which were a little cautious for my taste--even though there is a whole section dedicated to dealing with the "Pregnancy Police." While I generally understand the "better safe than sorry" rule, and while I'm no physician (even though I have always consulted mine before toeing the line), I still believe in some wriggle room when it comes to coffee, wine, and soft cheeses for mom. But this book made me feel like a bad person for choosing the occasional glass of red wine with dinner over whipping up a virgin "preggatini." I still recommend reading it, but mostly for the advice on looking good and loot. Just be warned you may feel reprimanded from time to time. Oh, and I completely ignored the blank pages for monthly journaling included at the end of every chapter. This is pregnancy, not middle school.

3. The Girlfriends Guide to Pregnancy, by Vicki Iovine

An OB recommended this book to me after he caught me reading Denay's Hot Mom book on a plane. "It's written by a former Playboy bunny," he said. "You'll like it." And like it I did. Unafraid of going into explicit detail about her four pregnancies, Iovine offers an honest assessment of the "nine (ten) months" of pregnancy. She's both funny and sarcastic, yet offers enough research and authority to be taken seriously when necessary. Iovine gives a lot of advice--from exercise and intimacy to what to expect each doctor's appointment and what to pack for the hospital. She even touches on problems conceiving and postpartum depression. Everything in the book has been culled from her doctors and vetted by the "Girlfriends." This book was informative and cute, without being overly so--if you catch my drift.

4. My Boys Can Swim!, by Ian Davis
I did not read this book; Jon did. I merely skimmed it. In this "official guy's guide to pregnancy," Davis uses quick, snarky anecdotes to explain away why his pregnant wife is acting so differently from the woman he met, dated, and married. (Bonus: There are cartoons.) A friend said her husband read the book at the beginning of her pregnancy and, darn it all, I was not going to be the only one reading about babies and burping in this household, so I added it to our Amazon order. Jon says it was "fine, though not very informative about actual childbirth." Fair enough. Order it if you want a reading partner out of your labor partner, I guess.

5. Belly Laughs, by Jenny McCarthy

A good friend gifted this book to me and I happened to read it at the perfect time during my pregnancy--right when the heartburn started to kick in and things started to get, well, generally unpleasant. If you can put aside the grammatical errors and forget everything you know about McCarthy's feelings on vaccinations, she is very, very funny. I laughed out loud 100 times more often when reading this book than in my entire teenage years watching Singled Out. More than anything, with all the Giseles and Klums out there bouncing around in bikinis two weeks postpartum, it was refreshing to read a realistic (and sometimes vulgar) account of pregnancy from a celebrity. There were times I caught myself thinking, "Damn, Jenny had it baaaad," which I hate to admit, made me feel so much better. And the book is thin. I think I read it in two quick nights.

6. Great with Child: Letters to a Young Mother, by Beth Ann Fennelly

A friend gave me this book as well, and I could not put it down. When Fennelly, a poet and professor, found out a dear friend was pregnant with her first child and moving to faraway Alaska, she wrote her letters of love, advice, and support nearly everyday. This book is the compilation of those letters and, naturally, takes on a more maternal tone than the other books I read earlier in my pregnancy. I picked up Great with Child at six months pregnant, just as I was starting to feel true, maternal affection for this small being kicking and moving inside me. (Getting to that point took me longer than most, I know.) Great with Child is a love letter to motherhood. There was nothing agenda-driven about Fennelly's letters, nor were there any stern dos or don'ts. This book, more than any other, got me excited for becoming a mom, and it shouldn't be reserved for only expectant mothers. Actually, I gave it to my own mom to read. I couldn't recommend it more.

7. The Complete Book of Pregnancy and Childbirth, by Sheila Kitzinger

Honestly, when I first opened this book I wasn't ready for it. I was in my first trimester, could still button my pants, didn't feel like a mother-to-be, and was in denial about what would change in both body and mind in the next several months. (True story: I called my mom angry and crying after opening a page on episiotomies.) But now I can see why my mom likes this book so much. Before she married my father, a physician, and having six children, my mom worked as a labor-and-delivery nurse. This book is very medical. It's the dictionary, the source on all things pregnancy related. True, the women pictured look like their pregnancies began after a wild night following a Mama Cass concert, and much has changed with medicine and childbirth since Mama Cass ate that fateful sandwich. But, at its core, pregnancy and childbirth hasn't changed in hundreds of years. Kitzinger's book has been a great first reference for me--better than Googling or visiting WebMD, for sure--and I check it before bringing questions to my next doctor's appointment. I can't speak to versions with later copyright dates, but I think this book is the perfect reference text. 

I hope you find this small list helpful. And thanks to all you friends (and Mom) for your recommendations. I'll share my next batch of books when I'm through, promise.

...

lemonade head

For obvious reasons, this summer I'm rocking 'rita-free. But what's a lady to do without a margarita in-hand when triple-digit heat bakes the Washington region in record-breaking waves? When water won't quench cravings for sour-and-sweet over ice? Well, I'm happy to report at 27 weeks pregnant I have finally had my pickles-and-ice-cream moment: Last week I sent Jon to Williams-Sonoma to buy a citrus squeezer. Why? Fresh-squeezed lemonade, my friends.

While nothing beats a fresh margarita served over ice in a glass with a salted rim, fresh lemonade sure comes close. The trick, I've found, is to shake the citrus-sugar concoction, not stir. Here's the recipe I've been using to make this simple afternoon sugar rush:

Ingredients:
juice from 1 lemon
2-3 T sugar, as preferred
2 c. chilled water
handful of ice

Combine all ingredients in a cocktail shaker and shake vigorously overhead for 30 seconds. Pour all contents into a glass and serve with a lemon slice. It's that simple. Feeling fancy? Add a few raspberries. Or when a day is particularly mean and hot, I'll juice two lemons instead of one. Somehow the extra punch of sour really puckers me up and cools me down. And, yes, it's worth the trouble. If you have any doubts you're welcome to check out the stack of lemons piled high in our kitchen's fruit bowl.

Bonus: The baby really digs this drink, too, affirming his/her approval with an all-out dance party. Very fun.

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razzle dazzle

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My bump isn't so much a bump as it is a burrito. To take the focus off what looks less like 23-weeks pregnant and more like too many trips to Chipotle, I put the bump behind black and a little bling yesterday. As Chicago's Billy Flynn said, "Razzle-dazzle 'em."

The necklace I snagged is from C.Wonder, a store I discovered on my last trip to Manhattan. (It's in SoHo, where Kate's Paperie used to be.) Their jewelry, more than anything, is awesome. And while my new accessory was certainly a splurge, it won't need to be sized-up during the remaining 17 weeks of this pregnancy (But who's counting??).

xx!