Backache

I am halfway through my pregnancy and already having lower back pain, something I don't remember experiencing the first time around. I did some googling in search of remedies. Alas, while every source kindly pointed out that it's common to suffer back pain during pregnancy, they all came to the same conclusion: my posture sucks, my abs are weak, and I lead a sedentary lifestyle. Time to figure out how to fit the neglected exercise routine back into my schedule.

This morning I managed a short workout by breaking our strict one-TV-show-a-day rule and letting K watch an extra half-episode of "Chuggington". I don't want to make that a habit, though (and usually, while he's watching TV, I'm racing around getting chores done, bags and lunches packed, and breakfast made, not to mention catching up on any early-morning work emails.) My only unscheduled time is at night between K's bedtime and mine, and I'm often working from home during that time. I guess I'll either have to muster the energy for a regular evening workout, or try to get to bed by 9:30 so I can wake up early for a morning workout. Pre-pregnancy, I used to wake up at 5:30 and exercise, but I wasn't so tired all the time, and work wasn't quite as crazy, and we had a dishwasher, and blah blah excuses. I just have to make time. Somehow.

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Body image

During my pregnancy with K, I went through a period of feeling huge and fat and unattractive until I finally realized that I was being ridiculous. It wasn't like I was a bikini model. The only person who ever saw me less than fully clothed was my very accepting husband, and nobody but me noticed or cared if I gained or lost a couple of pounds. I had always thought of myself as being fairly sane about my body image, and hardly the type to eat salad for every meal and spend hours at the gym perfecting my abs. But once I stopped worrying about how my body looked, I couldn't believe how much mental energy I had been wasting. It was refreshing to look in the mirror without being so critical. I vowed to be more self-accepting after my pregnancy.

It didn't last long, of course. I gave myself a break during the postpartum period, but after reaching my pre-baby weight, I was right back to pinching my thighs and frowning when I looked in the mirror.

Now that I'm pregnant again, my only reaction to my reflection is to marvel at the changes in my body. And again, I realize how stupid and unproductive it is to obsess over something that nobody else notices. Maybe the lesson will stick this time. (Maybe. Unlikely.)

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Grandparents to the rescue!

It was a rough week or two. JW never quite recovered from being sick, partly because he's been so slammed at work that he's barely been sleeping. K, it turned out, had bronchitis. After a few feverish and cranky days, he started on antibiotics and was back to his normal, healthy, happy self within 48 hours. I had two ultrasounds AND an OB appointment, all in the middle of the day -- and two of my deals that had been on hold suddenly got scheduled to close on extremely aggressive schedules. Our car broke down too.

My mother emailed unexpectedly on Tuesday, asking how we were doing. I found out later that my brother had told on me for sending him a happy birthday email at two in the morning (I was up doing work, after having stayed home with sick K all day). I told her we were having a hard time but would manage. Next thing I knew, she and my father were on their way up I-95. They stayed for two days and cooked, cleaned, and took care of K. Hooray! We're still trying to keep our heads above water, but we're a lot closer to the surface now. I've said it before and I'll say it again: thank goodness for grandparents!

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The new neighborhood

We only moved about half a mile, but it's like living in a different town. Before the move, I used to walk down our current street and fantasize about living here... and then my little dream bubble would pop as I walked back to my own block, dodging giant trucks backing across the road, bikers revving their motorcycles, hearses parked on the sidewalk, fire trucks zooming down the narrow street with sirens blaring, and the ever-present trash that blew across our old neighborhood like tumbleweed.

The new neighborhood is quiet and green and leafy. When we see our neighbors outside, they stop and say hello and sometimes pass on neighborhood gossip. On trash day, everyone puts a lid on their trash can or securely closes up their bags!

I like our new house. But I love our new neighborhood.

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Sick

JW was sick over the weekend. Now it's K's turn. But while JW just felt tired and crappy for a few days, K seems really ill. I was home with him today and he kept crying and saying that he felt hot, he felt cold, his stomach hurt, he had a headache, his legs hurt... K is not a complainer. I'm worried. We've been giving him Tylenol and Motrin, but his fever has been taking a while to respond, and it seems like it's getting worse. He's completely lost his appetite and has barely eaten for the last two days.

He's asleep and I finally have a little time to catch up on work, but it's hard to concentrate. I can hear him breathing hard in the next room and occasionally muttering in his sleep. Twice he woke up, talking gibberish (the last time, he sat up and glared at me and said, "I WILL!" and then, "Why are you scooting?" and then he lay down and fell asleep again). He's woken up once or twice and moaned, "Mommy," and in the five seconds it takes me to dash to his bedside he's asleep again.

I think tomorrow we'll call the doctor. The usual rest and hydration doesn't seem to be working.

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Ultrasound #2

 [I wrote this part on Thursday. Friday update below.]

I'm going in for a followup ultrasound tomorrow.

At the end of last week's ultrasound, a doctor came in and said there was a white spot on the baby's heart that they were concerned about. She kept smiling and reassuring us that it could go away, and the baby was probably fine. She didn't say what she thought could be wrong and I didn't ask.

K had the same thing and he turned out fine. Of course, last time they didn't make us come in for another ultrasound. They told us that it could be an indicator of Down syndrome. When we got home, I started to cry. It just hadn't occurred to me that I could have anything other than a perfect, healthy baby. Then I pulled myself together. JW and I sat silently next to each other on the couch, each furiously typing away on our laptops. Then we both turned to each other at the same time and said, "We're going to be okay." He had been researching what that white spot could mean and had concluded that it was probably nothing. I had been reading about how to care for children with Down syndrome.

This time around, I am very aware that there are lots of possible outcomes besides a healthy baby. But I feel like there's no point in worrying about it until it happens. I was so anxious during my pregnancy with K: first trimester I worried about miscarrying, second trimester I worried about whether the baby was healthy, third trimester I worried about labor and delivery. After he was born, I felt like I never knew what he needed, and I certainly never learned to distinguish his cries and tell whether he was hungry or sleepy, like they say you're supposed to. But this time around I'm trying to sit back and deal with whatever happens.

Friday update:

It was a marathon appointment -- total waiting time about an hour and a half, total poking and prodding time another hour and a half or so. At the end I was exhausted and even a little sore. The good news is, the baby seems fine. The radiologist said he didn't see any physical problems or any other markers of Down syndrome. He said we'd see what my screening results were like and then we could decide whether to do amniocentesis. I told him I didn't want that and he assured me that it was completely up to me.

After the appointment, I was relieved, but wished I had been a less passive patient. At the end of my first ultrasound, the doctor (not my OB) had been trying so hard to reassure us, and I felt so worn down after going through the whole appointment, that I didn't question why we had to come back in, what was going to be different about the next ultrasound, or exactly what she was worried about. I knew that the spot on the heart could indicate Down syndrome and just assumed that it must be more serious than last time because no one had mentioned coming back in when I was pregnant with K. If I had realized that they didn't see or anticipate any physical problems and that my blood screen, the results of which will be in next week, would give me an idea of our risk, I would have turned down the additional ultrasound.

I told my OB with both pregnancies that we wouldn't consider termination unless there was some  life-threatening medical problem. There's no other in utero intervention for Down syndrome, so if they didn't see any of the potentially serious physical problems associated with the disease (like heart defects), what was the point of the second ultrasound? And we're on a high-deductible insurance plan, so I can only imagine what the bill will be like.

I'm not going the hypnobirthing route this time around, but I still feel the same way about unnecessary medical intervention. Anyway, at least the baby seems fine.

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Columbus Day

I think Columbus Day is becoming my favorite holiday. No travel, no presents, just a day off with no pressure to do anything productive because I'm alone with K all day. I had sort of a rough weekend, mental health-wise, and felt a little like I had a hangover all day today. But I managed to pull it together and be a functional adult.

In the morning K and I went to Wilson Farm, where we took a Haunted Hayride and looked at the fish and a bee drowned in my apple cider.

After lunch and rest time at home (I got to take a short nap, K claimed he took a nap too but during the fifteen minutes I was asleep he managed to go to the potty, attempt to clean himself up, and take out several of his books), K said that he had somehow hurt his foot while "napping." I proposed a stroller walk and amazingly, he accepted -- it can be like pulling teeth to get him to leave the house sometimes. We walked for a while, then at K's request hopped a bus to Harvard Square. I ran a few errands and then we had a snack and walked home along the Charles River, pausing for a while to throw rocks in the water and go fishing with some long sticks. K caught a HUNDRED fish! And I got more exercise than I have in weeks.

By the time we got back to our neighborhood, it was almost dark. We stopped for pizza and looked for the moon as we walked home hand in hand. Back home, we had watermelon and strawberries for dessert, took a bath, and went to bed.

I guess Columbus Day 2011 won't be quite so serene. But even though I could still use a break from being a grown-up, today was a good day.

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Baby names

For some reason, I thought I was having a girl. Maybe because I'm carrying so differently -- K was a bottom-dweller, but #2 seems to want to live in my ribcage. I had started thinking about girl names. When we heard we were having a boy, JW and I said to each other, "Oh no, we'll have to come up with another boy name!" Boy names are tough, unless you're going with something classic. There's a much wider acceptable range of feminine names.

I tried a baby name finder online, but it came up with all sorts of ridiculous names (random sampling: Blayze, Bear, Heathcliff, Cambridge). So I'm soliciting ideas here.

Guidelines:

• No names that start with A, K, O, P, S, T
• Prefer that it not be a classic American boys' name (John, Michael, James, William)
• Prefer no overly trendy names (Aiden, Caden, Jayden, Ethan)
• No explicitly religious names or non-Indian/Hindu ethnic names (no Obediah or Jafar)
• No prep-school WASPy names (Preston, Blake)
• Both sets of grandparents have to be able to pronounce it

I guess the problem with baby names for us is that since we have an American last name, I don't want the first and middle name to be entirely American too. At the same time, most Bengali boys' names are unpronounceable in English. (For instance, my cousin's husband was lobbying for his name, Angshuman.)

All suggestions are welcome!


K's suggestions: Radiator, Flash, or Shiny Frank.

I'm looking through a baby name list, trying to compile a list of names I don't object to (with JW's reaction in parentheses):
Cole ("eh")
Max (not too bad, but has become trendy)
Dexter (veto, because of the serial killer show. JW: "How about Baxter?" Me: "No, that sounds too much like a badger or beaver.")
Gage? ("Sounds like a wrestler. Shiny Frank is better.")
Ray (no, because K's name already means "ray of light")
Warren (veto, because we know someone with this name)
Cade? ("Cade?" "Yes. It means 'round or lumpy.'" "Maybe.")
Colin (actually has some overlap with Indian names)

Me (looking at baby name list): "Kale? Like the vegetable?"
JW: "I'm sorry, did you say something?"

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Crying on the bus

This morning someone elbowed me in the head on the bus. You'd be surprised how often this happens -- I'm so short that my head is right at elbow level of a tall person. One reason I hate crowds. But this time, he hit me so hard that it actually brought tears to my eyes. (In fact, it still hurts a little.)

Ordinarily, I might have sniffled a little and then recovered. But I'm pregnant. Once I started crying, I just couldn't stop. At first no one noticed, because it's the bus and people are making an effort to ignore each other. But then I had to move back so more people could squeeze in, and I ended up right next to a girl who took one look at me and offered to get up so I could sit. "No, I'm fine," I sobbed, because even though until that point I had been crying quietly, the minute someone is nice to me I start crying even harder, like a little kid who's totally fine but starts bawling when his mom comes over. She said, "No, I really think you should sit down," and got up. I thanked her, sat down, and looked as hard as I could out the window. I didn't really stop crying until after I had boarded the subway and was halfway to work. I ended up chatting with the girl during the subway ride. When she got off, I thanked her again and she said, "Anyone who wouldn't do the same is not a good person!"

I was a little embarrassed at first to be the only mess in a sea of functional adults. But it's not like I saw anyone I knew.

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It's a boy!

Full body; head and chest; foot; view from the bottom indicating that he's a boy; thumbs-up!

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K and pumpkins

Proofs of K's school pictures! I don't know how they get him to smile like that. (These are grainy because I scanned them in -- we'll have much nicer versions in a few weeks.)

Pictures of #2 tomorrow, if all goes well.

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We're neglecting his education

This morning K identified a stuffed Ewok as "something like a hodgeheg."

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Uncultured

It's sad that I had to explain to my half-Indian son that a samosa was "like an empanada."

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