Being plus sized and pregnant has a unique set of challenges. While some of the challenges are medical (higher risk for certain pregnancy complications), many are experiencial. For example, because I'm heavy, it will probably take longer for me to feel my Lima Bean moving. While normal sized women are lucky to have access to an increasingly broad range of attractive maternity clothes, the plus size choices are decidedly limited. But perhaps the hardest part of being overweight and pregnant is that it looks less like I'm pregnant and more like I'm just getting fatter. Instead of a bump, it's more like a bigger belly.
As someone whose biggest challenge has always been my weight, pregnancy is a constant reminder of that challenge. I'm acutely aware of every bit of weight gain and am making a conscious effort to keep my weight gain within the healthy recommendations for overweight women, which is quite minimal. Not that it stops me from enjoying the occasional BK Double Stacker (yum!). My pregnancy has also renewed my focus on getting my weight under control with exercise and healthy eating habits. But with the focus comes frustration, because I obviously can't embark on a weightloss plan while I'm pregnant.
My intent is not to complain, but simply to share my observations and my pregnancy experience.
Sunday, March 20, 2011
Friday, March 11, 2011
politicsmanship
At an early age we're taught the value of sportsmanship. We're taught to be good team players and gracious winners. We're taught that there's nothing admirable about being a sore loser or a sore sport. As adults, we find it important to instill these qualities of good sportsmanship in our children, yet grownups often do a poor job of leading by example. Avid sports fans often show children that it's okay to support one's own team by bashing the opponent. That 'YOU SUCK!!' yelled at the opposing team is just as effective as 'GO TEAM!!!' in support of your own. Worse, kids grow up thinking that's acceptable behaviour and quickly lose the values of sportsmanship. I wish that more of us would retain the values that we were taught as children.
I guess it's no wonder that many people display equally disheartening poor politicsmanship. I've never really understood the point of badmouthing the opposing political party without offering constructive solutions to the issues at hand. On Facebook, I try to steer clear of politics (for the most part) because daily I see people using Facebook (and mass forwarded e-mail messages) that do nothing but bash a political party, as if badmouthing one party proves that the other party is superior. And I'm angered when I see members of any party affiliation doing this, even my own! I think that we could all benefit from remembering the lessons we learned as children and should begin practicing good politicsmanship, where we aren't sore losers who bash opposing opinions. Instead, we should welcome opportunities to strengthen our own 'teams' by being part of productive and thoughtful solutions. I have no problem with disagreement or thoughtful debate. But name-calling and insult-slinging do nothing to further our growth as a community or a nation.
Just something I've been thinking about lately.
I guess it's no wonder that many people display equally disheartening poor politicsmanship. I've never really understood the point of badmouthing the opposing political party without offering constructive solutions to the issues at hand. On Facebook, I try to steer clear of politics (for the most part) because daily I see people using Facebook (and mass forwarded e-mail messages) that do nothing but bash a political party, as if badmouthing one party proves that the other party is superior. And I'm angered when I see members of any party affiliation doing this, even my own! I think that we could all benefit from remembering the lessons we learned as children and should begin practicing good politicsmanship, where we aren't sore losers who bash opposing opinions. Instead, we should welcome opportunities to strengthen our own 'teams' by being part of productive and thoughtful solutions. I have no problem with disagreement or thoughtful debate. But name-calling and insult-slinging do nothing to further our growth as a community or a nation.
Just something I've been thinking about lately.
Sunday, March 6, 2011
losing my mind
So far, pregnancy hasn't been the most pleasant experience. So many women talk about how wonderful pregnancy is and instruct the newly-pregnant to really cherish the time. Other women talk about being miserable for their entire pregnancies. While miserable would be too strong a word to describe my experience so far, it hasn't exactly been wonderful. Instead of a glow, my face is usually marked with dark circles under my eyes. While I haven't thrown up once, I have constant nausea. My gums are sensitive and you don't even want to know about the pooping issues! I guess I was a little naive or perhaps unprepared for all of these pregnancy changes. The most unnerving change of all is that pregnancy is causing me to lose my mind. Mostly, it's been little things. Forgetting small details. Having difficulty focusing. But this week the mental incapacitation went to a whole new level. On Friday, I showed up at 12:30 at the Education Center to have my statistics exam proctored. The proctor was surprised to see me, because apparently I didn't have an appointment on Friday at 12:30 and he was conducting soldier testing and unavailable as a proctor. He did, however, have me scheduled for 8:00 the previous morning and had been surprised when I hadn't shown up for the exam. My heart fell to the floor. How could this have happened?! With the exam window closing on Saturday and no other proctoring appointments available until next Thursday, there was no way that I could complete my exam as assigned. I was able to reach my professor by e-mail and she was kind enough to extend the exam window so that I can take it next Thursday. But what if I hadn't been so lucky?
When I returned to my office, I checked my calendar and the e-mail correspondence between me and the proctor. Turns out, the exam had actually been scheduled for Friday at 8:00....both the proctor and I had been wrong! I had initially requested to be tested at 12:30 on Friday and that day and time just stuck in my head. And when I'm not pregnant, my head is pretty reliable. It's strange that I have to learn to mistrust myself because my brain is just not the reliable calendar that it always has been.
Most people who know me know that I'm extremely organized, thorough and detail oriented. So, of all the pregnancy changes, losing my mind is the hardest for me to handle. I rely heavily on my ability to recall details and manage organized systems in my head, without having to write everything down. Or if I write things down, it's usually just to help me commit things to memory. Once the list has been made, I very rarely need to consult it. Now, I'm forced to not only make lists and keep a calendar, but to regularly check them to make sure that I don't make any more mistakes like I did with my statistics exam.
The purpose of this blog entry is not necessarily to complain or whine, but to document my experience, as it is. After our little bundle of joy arrives, I may look back through my baby-tinted glasses and think that pregnancy was wonderful. But I want to document what pregnancy is really like, at least for me. I also hope to regain my mind, but from what I've heard from parents, it just gets worse!
When I returned to my office, I checked my calendar and the e-mail correspondence between me and the proctor. Turns out, the exam had actually been scheduled for Friday at 8:00....both the proctor and I had been wrong! I had initially requested to be tested at 12:30 on Friday and that day and time just stuck in my head. And when I'm not pregnant, my head is pretty reliable. It's strange that I have to learn to mistrust myself because my brain is just not the reliable calendar that it always has been.
Most people who know me know that I'm extremely organized, thorough and detail oriented. So, of all the pregnancy changes, losing my mind is the hardest for me to handle. I rely heavily on my ability to recall details and manage organized systems in my head, without having to write everything down. Or if I write things down, it's usually just to help me commit things to memory. Once the list has been made, I very rarely need to consult it. Now, I'm forced to not only make lists and keep a calendar, but to regularly check them to make sure that I don't make any more mistakes like I did with my statistics exam.
The purpose of this blog entry is not necessarily to complain or whine, but to document my experience, as it is. After our little bundle of joy arrives, I may look back through my baby-tinted glasses and think that pregnancy was wonderful. But I want to document what pregnancy is really like, at least for me. I also hope to regain my mind, but from what I've heard from parents, it just gets worse!
Wednesday, March 2, 2011
read across america
Today, in celebration of the great Dr. Seuss' birthday, is Read Across America Day. In celebration of both the simple brilliance of Dr. Seuss and the wonder of reading, I'd like to share some of my favorite reading memories.
Before I even had memories, I loved books. My first book love, as my parents will tell you, was the Little Golden Book Five Little Firemen.
I wanted to hear it all the time and knew the book by heart. Ever the perfectionist, I would correct my parents if they skipped any words! It was an action-packed book with lots of cool onomatopoeia: with a wheeeeeeeeee and a whoooooooooooo and a cling-clang-cling! What little kid wouldn't want to hear that book again and again and again?!
My first memories of a specific book are my memories of my parents reading Horton Hears A Who to me. It was before I even started school, so I was quite young. I have many memories of this book being read to me, and my parents tell me that's because I demanded that it be read to me frequently. It was read to me so much, in fact, that I memorized the entire thing. To this day, I can still recite almost the entire book from memory.
Even at that tender young age, I was a nerdy pain in the ass. If my parents tried to read creatively in order to shorten the long book, I would promptly correct them. But my parents were great sports and I firmly believe that my love of reading comes from their patience and enthusiasm as they made books come alive for me. I still remember the squeaky Who voice that my mom used and I'm pretty sure that when I read the book to Lima Bean, my own Who voice will sound just like Ma's. As fun as it was to listen to, the book also carried a strong message that has been a foundation for how I live my life: A person's a person no matter how small. Just like Horton, I carry around my own speck on a clover. The image is tattooed on the back of my neck. Probably my most noticeable tattoo is on my arm, an unmistakably Seussian tree with an evil Wickersham Brother handing off the speck to a horrid Vlad-Vladikoff, a constant reminder to protect people from the bad in the world, no matter how small the people! Horton Hears a Who was an amazing vehicle for my parents to pass along core life lessons in a creative and entertaining package. There's no question that books are powerful and have the strength to move people, but it's amazing to see that strength so evident in a silly and fun children's book.
Fast forward a few years to my next favorite book memory. In fourth grade, my dad surprised me with a book. He had picked it out for me because he thought it looked like a book that I would like. The book was Frances Hodgson Burnett's A Little Princess. To this day, I'm not exactly sure if it's the story or the fact that my dad picked it especially for me that makes it one of my all-time favorite books. I think it's a combination of the two. I don't even know if my dad realized that the story had such a strong father-daughter focus, but that made it even more endearing to me. I remember covering the paperback copy in clear tape to provide a protective covering to this most special book!
Growing up, my Grandma Helen began a tradition of giving me leather-bound copies of classics as gifts. Because of her, I was introduced to Black Beauty, Heidi, Jane Eyre, Wuthering Heights, Pride and Prejudice, Anne of Green Gables, and Little Women, among others. From the first book, I was enchanted. I always looked forward to discovering which book I would get next; what world I would be introduced to. I even got a beautiful copy of A Little Princess to add to my collection! My grandmother always envisioned that I would have an impressive library. In an age where books are becoming obsolete, I treasure these foundations of my book collection. And I treasure the woman who taught me that a great library is a thing of value.
As an adult, books are no less valuable to me. Shortly after moving to Asheville, NC, I read Al Franken's Lies and the Lying Liars who Tell Them: A Fair and Balanced Look at the Right. This book was recommended to me by best friend Kathy, who lives in Kansas City. After reading the book, I remember a very long phone conversation, in which we discussed the book at length. More accurately, we read excerpts to each other, exclaimed, "Yeah! Yeah!" and laughed a lot. I loved the book, but loved that conversation with Kathy even more!
My next favorite book memory comes from sharing one of my favorite books. After reading Burnett's lesser-known A Little Princess, I went on to read her famous Secret Garden. And I fell in love. I distinctly remember the descriptions of the garden coming to life and being able to envision it as I read. When Jerry's daughter, Elyssa, spent a summer with us, I was excited to share this wonderful book with a lovely and imaginative 10-year-old girl. I read The Secret Garden to Elyssa, a little bit each night before bed. I loved snuggling up in her bed and making the book come alive for her. It warmed my heart when she'd opt out of another fun activity so that she wouldn't miss out on our bedtime reading. What a special memory that this wonderful book created for me!
As recently as this year, a new book memory has been created. Upon learning of my pregnancy, Ma searched through old boxes to find her copy of Ina May Gaskin's Spiritual Midwifery. This book had such a profound influence on her pregnancies with my brother and sister that she wanted to share it with me. And it was important enough to search through the dusty old boxes to find. I'm so grateful to have this book that was so important to my mother, whose opinions I respect and admire so much. It's also exciting to share books and experiences with my mother from woman to woman, not necessarily from mother to child.
In the process of writing this, I stumbled upon many other reading and book memories, but thought it best to limit the rambling. I hope that you all have many special reading memories of your own! Of course, books have the ability to transport individuals into other worlds and to open their imaginations. But looking at my favorite reading and book memories, it's clear that books also bring people together. And that's what I celebrate today. Happy Birthday Dr. Seuss and happy reading to all!!
Before I even had memories, I loved books. My first book love, as my parents will tell you, was the Little Golden Book Five Little Firemen.
My first memories of a specific book are my memories of my parents reading Horton Hears A Who to me. It was before I even started school, so I was quite young. I have many memories of this book being read to me, and my parents tell me that's because I demanded that it be read to me frequently. It was read to me so much, in fact, that I memorized the entire thing. To this day, I can still recite almost the entire book from memory.
Fast forward a few years to my next favorite book memory. In fourth grade, my dad surprised me with a book. He had picked it out for me because he thought it looked like a book that I would like. The book was Frances Hodgson Burnett's A Little Princess. To this day, I'm not exactly sure if it's the story or the fact that my dad picked it especially for me that makes it one of my all-time favorite books. I think it's a combination of the two. I don't even know if my dad realized that the story had such a strong father-daughter focus, but that made it even more endearing to me. I remember covering the paperback copy in clear tape to provide a protective covering to this most special book!
Growing up, my Grandma Helen began a tradition of giving me leather-bound copies of classics as gifts. Because of her, I was introduced to Black Beauty, Heidi, Jane Eyre, Wuthering Heights, Pride and Prejudice, Anne of Green Gables, and Little Women, among others. From the first book, I was enchanted. I always looked forward to discovering which book I would get next; what world I would be introduced to. I even got a beautiful copy of A Little Princess to add to my collection! My grandmother always envisioned that I would have an impressive library. In an age where books are becoming obsolete, I treasure these foundations of my book collection. And I treasure the woman who taught me that a great library is a thing of value.
As an adult, books are no less valuable to me. Shortly after moving to Asheville, NC, I read Al Franken's Lies and the Lying Liars who Tell Them: A Fair and Balanced Look at the Right. This book was recommended to me by best friend Kathy, who lives in Kansas City. After reading the book, I remember a very long phone conversation, in which we discussed the book at length. More accurately, we read excerpts to each other, exclaimed, "Yeah! Yeah!" and laughed a lot. I loved the book, but loved that conversation with Kathy even more!
My next favorite book memory comes from sharing one of my favorite books. After reading Burnett's lesser-known A Little Princess, I went on to read her famous Secret Garden. And I fell in love. I distinctly remember the descriptions of the garden coming to life and being able to envision it as I read. When Jerry's daughter, Elyssa, spent a summer with us, I was excited to share this wonderful book with a lovely and imaginative 10-year-old girl. I read The Secret Garden to Elyssa, a little bit each night before bed. I loved snuggling up in her bed and making the book come alive for her. It warmed my heart when she'd opt out of another fun activity so that she wouldn't miss out on our bedtime reading. What a special memory that this wonderful book created for me!
As recently as this year, a new book memory has been created. Upon learning of my pregnancy, Ma searched through old boxes to find her copy of Ina May Gaskin's Spiritual Midwifery. This book had such a profound influence on her pregnancies with my brother and sister that she wanted to share it with me. And it was important enough to search through the dusty old boxes to find. I'm so grateful to have this book that was so important to my mother, whose opinions I respect and admire so much. It's also exciting to share books and experiences with my mother from woman to woman, not necessarily from mother to child.
In the process of writing this, I stumbled upon many other reading and book memories, but thought it best to limit the rambling. I hope that you all have many special reading memories of your own! Of course, books have the ability to transport individuals into other worlds and to open their imaginations. But looking at my favorite reading and book memories, it's clear that books also bring people together. And that's what I celebrate today. Happy Birthday Dr. Seuss and happy reading to all!!
Tuesday, March 1, 2011
straining my ovaries
When she was alive, my grandmother expressed herself in pretty amusing ways. Certain situations always called for the same reaction from her. For instance, if I mentioned a boy's name (any boy's name), she'd promptly ask, "Oh, with a name like (fill in the boy's last name), what is he? Jewish? Irish? Italian? Polish? What?" In my mind, it was always that particular sequence, though that could be my memory creating a caricature of my grandmother. I can say for certain that the ethnic origin of my female friends was not important because this question was never asked in regard to them.
Another favorite expression was, "You're going to strain your ovaries!" This was in response to her seeing me exert myself by lifting or moving heavy objects, y'know, men's work. Of course, most of you realize that telling me something is men's work is a sure fire way to convince me that it is Heather's work. Because there's nothing a man can do that I can't! (I'm stubborn like that!)
I've always scoffed at the idea of 'straining my ovaries', but let me tell you, pregnancy has me re-thinking things! Like most tech-savvy moms-to-be, I'm quick to use the interwebs to determine if any and every pregnancy discomfort and sensation is 'normal'. So far, google has been my friend and has provided me the assurance I need that everything I'm experiencing is within the parameters of normal. My strained ovaries are no exception. Since the middle of the first trimester I get occasional pains that, to me, embody the feeling of strained ovaries. Sometimes they're brought on by a particularly robust sneeze or violent cough. And sometimes they're brought on by me temporarily forgetting I'm pregnant and twisting my mid-section a little too quickly for my growing body to handle. But every time I feel this particular pain, the first thing I think is, I'm straining my ovaries! Maybe those thoughts are really grandma letting me know that she's still watching over me and still making sure that I protect my precious ovaries. With a name like ovary, what is it? Jewish? Irish? Italian? Polish? What?
Another favorite expression was, "You're going to strain your ovaries!" This was in response to her seeing me exert myself by lifting or moving heavy objects, y'know, men's work. Of course, most of you realize that telling me something is men's work is a sure fire way to convince me that it is Heather's work. Because there's nothing a man can do that I can't! (I'm stubborn like that!)
I've always scoffed at the idea of 'straining my ovaries', but let me tell you, pregnancy has me re-thinking things! Like most tech-savvy moms-to-be, I'm quick to use the interwebs to determine if any and every pregnancy discomfort and sensation is 'normal'. So far, google has been my friend and has provided me the assurance I need that everything I'm experiencing is within the parameters of normal. My strained ovaries are no exception. Since the middle of the first trimester I get occasional pains that, to me, embody the feeling of strained ovaries. Sometimes they're brought on by a particularly robust sneeze or violent cough. And sometimes they're brought on by me temporarily forgetting I'm pregnant and twisting my mid-section a little too quickly for my growing body to handle. But every time I feel this particular pain, the first thing I think is, I'm straining my ovaries! Maybe those thoughts are really grandma letting me know that she's still watching over me and still making sure that I protect my precious ovaries. With a name like ovary, what is it? Jewish? Irish? Italian? Polish? What?
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