Boo

I was wondering this morning, whether you can "scare" a fetus into stopping hiccuping?! I swear, this little guy is a hiccuping machine. It was cute, but now not so much. It's like I am having the hiccups, although a more subtle version. I can shout all of a sudden "boo" and see if he stops? I won't. Not only does he have no idea what "boo" means, I don't know if womb noise perpetrates such a loud noise, and besides, I don't want to scare the little thing. Not a good way to start motherhood.

But, what is a good way? Right now I don't feel so good about myself. I am not working and my sense of identity is withering away. It is very important for me to be a strong role model for my son. Now I am not studying Hebrew a chasm of time has seemed to open up. And I don't want to lie around watching TV (although ultimately this is what I feel like doing mostly since I feel so awful physically).

I want to write, But write what? How to reinvent myself?

I will start yoga again on Thursday. Today I have lunch with my pregnant friends (who I call "the possy") who I now adore. And then I will make my wonderful guy some dinner. That's it for now.

Boo.

I said it softly.

Quit

Today I am a tangled mess of bleakness. I had to quit my Hebrew language course as it was getting too difficult for me. It seems I have miscellaneous afflictions. The doctor can't point to anything in particular and has relegated me to "third trimester" issue person. But, I can't help but think there is something more going on. Lately, more often than not I feel like my heart is racing, I start sweating and feel faint a little. The only thing that helps is lying down. Even typing on my computer makes it worse. So my discomfort was amplified sitting in a class room half the day. However, I am depressed about it as I was enjoying learning Hebrew. I need to learn Hebrew. And as much as I found the 21 year old's in the class beyond annoying ("I don't understand, why does Israel have three emergency numbers and not one like in the United States? Please explain teacher as this is very important to know..."), I was liking the routine and really liking learning. So yeah, I am sad and feel a bit like a failure.

To add to my distress, I cannot walk on one of my feet. I believe years ago I had a tiny hairline fracture that is now compromised due to the weight gain. Now it hurts to step on it and I am limping everywhere. Not good for a fat pregnant woman who needs all the exercise she can get! I am seeing the foot doctor on Wednesday.

So allow me to feel sad a bit today. My body is a mess. I now have to postpone studying Hebrew. And mostly I still just feel like lying on the couch to alleviate my symptoms.

9 weeks to go and

counting

counting

counting...

Floating

The other day I went to a pregnancy water "exercise" class. It was heaven. The "exercise" was just running about in a circle in the water and stretching for ten minutes. The bliss came when we put our knees and shoulders under those floating noodle things and just lay back and floated in the water. Pure bliss. Then the teacher came over and sort of swayed us side to side. It was a cool feeling because I could imagine for a minute what the little thing may be feeling inside me. The constant temperature and the muffled voices from the outside. And the stillness. Although I am a little confused about how gravity affects him in there. Like, does he fall slowly to the other side of my womb when I turn over in bed?

I found out the other day that his head is right smack bang on my bladder. The doctor was like, "Oh, I see this must be difficult for you". Ah, YES. I never knew that going to the bathroom could be such a central part of my life.

The doctor also said that my baby was "normal" sized now. I guess he caught up with himself. I was pleased to hear this. Relieved. He still could grow big in the next couple of months, but at least he is not two weeks bigger than his due date.

So, that's my current life. Rushing to the bathroom. Still feeling faint and sweaty after eating. My other foot now hurts. Two months to go.

I just want to float and float and float.

Childbirth courses and more

So, my boyfriend and I attended our first childbirth class on the weekend. It was interesting. Not so much for the content, but mainly to be forced to recognize that we are actually having a baby. We were sitting in a group of four other couples at varying degrees of pregnancy. It was comforting yet odd. It is a strange thing that one singular generic (but special) event can bring people together. In any event, the class we are taking is called a "Hypnobirthing" class, however it doesn't really focus on the "hypno" element. Its central premise is that fear in childbirth leads to adrenalin which leads to one's muscles constricting and the uterus receiving less blood, which then leads to hospital intervention. The class focuses on breathing and relaxation (and visualization, but less my cup of tea), in order to help a person feel less fear and be with the pain, so to speak. And the theory continues that once one intervention is needed in an hospital environment, a domino affect is ignited.

Ever the diligent student, I raced home to read the course book and read it cover to cover. It didn't really say anything new per se (I have read a lot already!), but did center and ground me on what needs to be done if I want to attempt to have a natural birth. The best part about the lesson was the aftermath when my boyfriend proclaimed that we were going to have a home birth!

Then, yesterday, I watched the Ricki Lake documentary, "The Business of Being Born". Apart from crying every time I saw a baby being born (I blame my hormones going into overdrive), I loved it as it was saying everything I have been ruminating about since I have been pregnant. It was basically a huge endorsement for natural birth and the film witnesses a few women having pretty "easy" births. It is always surreal to watch them moaning and yelling. It freaks me out! But, the endorphin/oxytocin high they seem to get once the baby is born looks pretty cool. I do recommend this film- just to get an overview of how childbirth was treated in the past and how it is now treated.

Which all brings me to, I am still up for it (natural childbirth, that is). That said, again, I give the disclaimer that it is academic to some degree to want this right now. In some ways the intention is very important. If I set out to have a natural birth maybe I can enact some of the relaxation techniques? Maybe I can just be calm and "be with the pain"? This process is different from other pain as there is not only a beginning and an end, but the end is complete with a baby. Who am I? Am I capable of such an act? Do I have the inner resources? The physical strength?

Mostly, as a result of watching the video, it hit home that a real, live baby was going to come out of me. For some reason, this thought has been the most elusive to me. Pregnancy has merely been a physical condition, rather than the baking of a baby.

30 weeks. 10 weeks to go (in an ideal world).

What will happen?

The weight of weight (again)

OK, so it is a known fact that I am overly preoccupied with my weight. However, I would now like to point out that it seems that I have, more or less, put on 50 pounds. 50 POUNDS! That is almost a whole other person. And I still have ten weeks to go. Maybe this justifies my anxiety?

It is painful to me. I don't know how to stop eating. I say, OK, today is the last day I will eat this or that. And then the next day I repeat the eating. It's like I have given up. Yet, I am still mortified at the weight. Again, it is vain I know. Something larger than life is occurring right now. I am baking a human being. My son. Yet, I can't help but be a little heartbroken.

Everyone dismisses this feeling I have. Oh, you're pregnant, don't worry. Oh, you look great (those that say that are either deluded or have never met me in my pre-pregnancy state). It doesn't help. Why oh why can't someone please say to me, yeah honey, it sucks and it is hard to get off too so I get why you are feeling unhappy about this.

It is the loss of control I hate. I used to love eating the food I ate. The green juices and the raw food. I believe that part of the problem for me is accessibility here in Israel and also having a partner in crime living with me. If it was me alone I could probably discipline myself a little more. However, in line with the theory that I am emotionally eating, I take gratification in pigging out with my boyfriend. It doubles my pleasure. He wants to lose weight however. And we both need to. I just feel like I can't do this anymore. Something has broken in me a little. My lifestyle which was so blissfully sustaining previously is somehow completely and utterly elusive to me right now.

The clothes I buy are bigger and bigger and I shower in the dark. My pregnant belly is smaller than my pregnant behind. I swear. And it's only going to get worse...

I feel a bit sad about this today. Maybe it is vanity, but it is also my vitality. I had muscles and strength and energy. My body was toned and flexible. Now my latest ailment is that my foot hurts. Why? Because there is new weight on it and I have flat feet blah blah. I read about it this morning. Aside from wearing orthopedics, I have to suck it up. So now my fat self walks with a limp.

A limp.

*sigh*

Two phases

I have noticed, that this new life contains two stages: pregnancy and after pregnancy. And, there does not seem to be much overlap between the stages. Of course that's an obvious assertion, however what I mean by that is that once a woman has given birth she is now welcomed into a whole new set of language and preoccupations. She has forever left the "pregnancy" group and in fact, can barely relate to it. I see this all the time. Friends that are pregnant and then give birth just seem to disappear off the face of the universe, for a time. Once they come back to the "real world" they are forever altered. What they understand, I cannot.

So, it's interesting. Right now I am on the edge of this new group, however giving birth is like dying, it cannot be known until experienced in that moment. Often lately I dream of my baby in various forms, however in each dream I have already given birth. My unconscious cannot even envision the process. And so I half envy these women who have already given birth. They have finished with this whole nine months business of exhaustion and morphing and not only have they given birth, but they have a real, live baby.

When you are pregnant (well, with your first), it is pretty impossible to imagine a live baby at the end of this. I know with all my pregnant friends, we wander around in a kind of daze. Half preparing, but half claiming our prior lives (the only ones we have known so far). We cannot anticipate this next step. No matter how hard we try.

The other day I was at a friend's place and she was offering me (very generously), some of her baby stuff for us to borrow. The whole thing felt surreal. What was I going to do with a baby bath? Baby cot etc? It was almost comical. Me taking it as if I was ever going to need it? Me? Why? Oh yeah, I am pregnant.

This whole thing continues to be weird.

And, last night he was hiccuping. I know it. So strange. Too strange to even be cute.

Who is he?

And just as importantly, who am I now? I am the pregnant phase woman, soon to be the after-birth phase woman.

Complaining again

So, nobody ever tells you that keeping a bikini line in shape is pretty much impossible when pregnant. I have just returned from a very unsuccessful wax. The point is, I can't see a thing. It is kind of bizarre. It's like there's a whole area of my body which is now, visually, a mystery (unless I look into the mirror with my bad eyesight and try and make out what's going on). I know it's vain, but yet another item of physical discomfort along with the myriad of other disfigurements.

And what else is happening these days? Well, five kilos in one month for one (a lovely portion of 10-12 pounds). In one month! Lord almighty. My arms are as big as my thighs used to be. And yeah, yeah, I will lose it when I am breast-feeding. Heard that. But, alas, I know it won't really be true for me. I know my body, pregnancy or no. I need five days a week of hard yoga to get anywhere near my old self...

And, the peeing! I can't take it anymore! It's almost impossible to sleep for the constant peeing. I was bad enough before my pregnancy, now it is almost unmanageable. I have to get up at least four or five times a night (on a good night). I have this huge sense of urgency only to have the familiar slow trickle for a second. Nothing really comes out. If it does, I consider it a success. It's not fun. Not fun.

One more thing, the weight. Not the fat, but the heaviness. I am starting to feel so heavy. We live up a slight hill and walking up it takes all my energy. I feel like I am dragging five steel balls behind me. It is such a strange feeling. Getting up from a chair? Not fun. Not fun. Not fun.

So, there's my complaining for the day. All I want is a night where I sleep right through and wake up refreshed. Is that too much to ask?

In other news, I attended my second day of the language course yesterday. I was in the bathroom (of course) and saw another pregnant woman in there. I was immediately excited and exclaimed, "Cool, I am not alone". And she was due two weeks before me and immediately we started talking the "pregnant language" about where we are giving birth and what doctor she saw etc etc. I walked out of the bathroom happy. I wasn't the only one and she was due near the time I am (June 25). Maybe back when I was single, I would have gone to a language school like this and checked to see if there were any cute boys or single friend possibilities, but now all I care about is whether there are any other pregnant women for me to talk to!

Hebrew 101

Today I started an intensive Hebrew language course. The reasons for this are: (a) I will not feel like I am stupid when at a supermarket and will be able to participate in conversations at the dinner table (not my own dinner table that is); (b) I can show my boyfriend that I am genuinely making an effort to assimilate; (c) That I am genuinely desiring to assimilate; and (d) for the benefit of my unborn child. And it is (d) I wish to speak about now.

It is still surreal for me to imagine that one day I will have a son and that son will speak Hebrew (and English). It means that no matter how much I really learn, my son will still have his secret (sod in Hebrew. I learned that today) jokes and conversations with his father. I will be the foreign outsider. It also means that my son will most likely take longer to speak than other kids here as he will be bilingual. But the important thing is, I want to be able to understand him. Help him with his homework. Listen to him play with his friends and understand when they ask me for food.

Still, being pregnant and being in a five day intensive (8am to 1pm) language course is no picnic. Firstly, I was seated by the door so that I could get up to use the bathroom more easily. However, that meant that I was the first woman in my row and therefore the first to be asked how to say something in Hebrew. Not a good situation when my pregnant foggy head was trying to stay awake. At the same time mystified by the constant belly moves my little one is making inside me. I was almost self conscious. You just had to glance over in my direction and if you noticed for one second you could probably see the little ripples of movement. Or maybe I am just feeling it on the inside so intensely it feels like my whole body is gurgling away.

Mostly though it was fun. Finally I am actually learning how to speak the language of this country. It felt empowering, despite the overwhelming fatigue.

Yesterday I was lying in bed in the morning and I saw and felt a foot sticking out. I am pretty sure that's what it was and I was so touched by it I pressed too hard (eager to feel its outline), and it vanished into the murky depths of amniotic fluid. Very cute. A Hebrew foot.

Lila tov yeled. Good night child. Yeah, well, I only learned things phonetically today.