We got to see Baby on the ultrasound screen today and everything looks great! It was such a relief to me as I really let my anxiety run away with me the past couple of days (no, I really do have anxiety disorder and that can be totally fierce sometimes). My husband, my mom and my aunt Melanie all accompanied me into the ultrasound room (yeah, we're those people) and we got to see this fluttery, super adorable little heartbeat that, really, is the greatest thing I've ever seen.

My doctor put me at 7w5d (so I'll resume my weekly posting on Thursday when I hit 8 weeks) and I got a new due date of July 14th (you guys were right -- that date sure does flip-flop around!). We're going to stick with July 14th as Baby's due date. I like the sound of it.

I actually watched the following video an embarrassing amount of times already but I just can't help it! It really is the greatest thing that my eyes have ever seen:

And this afternoon as I sat in the bathroom hunched over the toilet in agony, I couldn't help but hum a couple of songs in my head as I waited for that here-comes-the-puke stomach turn that I've come to know so well: Baby, Baby, Can't You Hear My Heartbeat by the Herman's Hermits and I Can Feel Your Heartbeat by David Cassidy. It just adds such a festive, wonderful happiness to my being sick to my stomach.

(I'm sadly not even remotely being snarky. I think this is the actual definition of 'elated.')



It's been a whirlwind couple of weeks full of traveling for the holidays, my little sister's dance convention and -- basically -- a whole lot of feeling sicker than I ever thought possible before.

Tomorrow is my eight week OB appointment and, no lie, I'm pretty nervous. At my six week appointment, we weren't able to see much via ultrasound. Everyone -- my wonderful doctor included -- assured me not to worry and that it was still early. Easier said than done, especially with the millions of pregnancy forums out there and the ubiquitous posts from other moms-to-be insisting their doctors detected a heartbeat at 6 (or even 4-5!) weeks and anyone else should be worried otherwise. I feel so nervous that I'm grinding my teeth, pacing my house and wanting to just crawl into bed for the night even though it's not even nine o'clock yet. I can't remember the last time I've been so nervous about anything.

I know this is all part of pregnancy and that more or less is why I'm here to document it all. The good, the bad, the ugly. No tales of vomiting or incessant worrying will be spared.

My thoughts right now are 50/50: half of me pictures walking out of my doctor's office full of pure joy and happiness from seeing my baby's heartbeat. The other half of me pictures there being nothing there and trying to make myself tough enough to deal with that. After all, it was our first ever time trying to make a baby. Don't people try for months and months? Don't these things take time? Am I being totally delusional and selfish to think everything will be okay on the first go?!

My mind is a complete mess and I know nothing -- not even the kindest words from friends and relatives -- will calm me down until I'm walking out the doors of my doctor's office tomorrow and don't have to wonder "what if" anymore.



I'm not even 7 weeks yet and pregnancy is totally kicking my ass. I'm quite convinced that I never knew the meaning of the word "fatigued" before I was pregnant. Here's what else pregnancy has been teaching me lately:

  • "THE QUESTIONS." One of my co-workers who knows about my pregnancy said that I should get ready to start answering "the questions." I stared at her with a blank stare until she elaborated: "Do you plan on breastfeeding? Will you go back to work? Do you think it's a boy or a girl?" (et cetera -- these questions never end!) She was totally right. I feel like I need to carry a taperecorder with me so I can just keep pressing 'play' when "the questions" start: "Do you plan on breastfeeding?" (Yes.) "Will you go back to work?" (No.) "Do you think it's a boy or a girl?" (Boy.) "Is your husband excited?" (Obviously.) And so on. And so on. And so on.
  • BELLA BAND. I bought my first one today. Well, I got two: one in black, one in white. I tend to wear white undershirts outside of work and black undershirts with my work uniform, so I'll give both colors a go. It'll be a nice alternative from only wearing leggings everywhere.
  • LEGGINGS. Continuing off my previous bulletin, I at first thought it'd be fun to ditch jeans for leggings when my pants started having trouble closing. The first day in leggings was great. Then I started to feel like there are only so many ways to dress up leggings so you don't look like a little girl in ballerina tights. Now I'm ready for jeans again.
  • CRAVINGS. Ugh, I've seriously been craving eggs. Eggs. How disgusting and random is that? Considering I literally hated eggs pre-pregnancy (you have no idea...I couldn't even look at eggs if other people were eating them), this has been super strange to me. I demanded that my husband make me eggs for dinner last night. I've had eggs for breakfast or for lunch over the past several days. We have literally gone through a carton of eggs in a week whereas normally we end up throwing out all of the eggs that have gone bad in back of the 'fridge. It's frightening. Right now? I could totally go for some eggs. Disturbing.
  • MORNING SICKNESS. This is my least favorite part. I'll take the tights and the eggs anyday over waking up to my head rocking back and forth like I'm in the middle of the ocean. Because my grogginess is so bad that I literally think my head is rocking back and forth with it when I wake up. My queasiness is so bad that I either spend my first hour awake in the bathroom or on the couch sobbing that I'm going to die. I never really die, but driving to work with an empty plastic cat litter box in the passenger seat (for puking in, of course) is getting old.
  • FORGETFULNESS. I literally can't remember a damn thing. I'm absolutely worthless. At work, this could end up totally becoming a problem...but it's no picnic in everyday life, either. As an example: this morning after shampooing, I put conditioner in my hair and combed it through as per usual. I then turned the shower off and climbed out. I got dressed, got ready to go to Target and went to pull my hair up -- only to find it was filled with conditioner. I didn't rinse it out. I didn't remember to rinse out the conditioner! Like, what the hell? Though today's example is totally the worst, I'm guilty of forgetting some very basic things and I feel like I have the attention span of a teenager.

...But there are also good things. Even though I know it's too early and everyone will roll their eyes and laugh at me, we've started reading bedtime stories to baby. This has become my favorite part of the day, hands down (and not just because it means I finally get to go to sleep!).

I also love knowing that next Christmas, there will be a little baby to buy things for and take to the Christmas tree farm (you know, the Florida version) and sit on Santa's lap and do all sorts of fun things with. It makes me want to fast-forward through this Christmas and just go to the next one (and not just because I want this morning sickness/Pukefest 2010 to be over with).

And, obviously, there's the sheer excitement that manages to outweigh the nausea or fatigue or forgetfulness. It's been an interesting journey already!


Goodbye, Pants.

Today I did something super embarrassing.

I went to work with my pants undone. Not just unbuttoned, but unzipped, too. I wore leggings under my pants out of sheer terror that they'd fall straight off of me. (For the record, it came pretty close a couple of times.)

This crazy bout of bloat seemed to happen overnight. I've been feeling incredibly swollen and puffy the past couple of days, but this morning there was simply no way my pants were buttoning. It's crazy, because the damn things fit the day before. As the day wore on, they fit less and less.

(Is six weeks too early for a BellaBand?! Jesus.)


Spoiled Baby!

Baby is already super spoiled and I'm not even six weeks along yet!

Victoria (from the Adventures In Mommyhood blog and also one of my most favorite friends) sent Baby his/her first ever toys!

Victoria sent Baby a Sophie (she is so cute, seriously!) and Take Along Tunes by Baby Einstein! I've been so excited to get a little Sophie and so what a surprise it was to see one pop up in my mailbox! Thank you so, so, so much, Victoria, from both me and baby!

Then yesterday my husband brought in the mail and I saw we had a package. This one was from my friend, Emma, and her super cute son, Sam (he did the fantastic artwork on the card):

And inside the package? Baby's first book!

Guess How Much I Love You! One of the things I'm most excited about is building Baby's library. I can't think of a better first book to start off Baby's collection!

So thank you, thank you, thank you to Victoria and Emma! We appreciate it more than you have any idea!


Not Quite 6 Weeks yet!

Let's start over.

I had my first doctor's appointment today. Just to show you how spot-on my fantabulously flawless math skills are, I'm actually only 5 1/2 weeks along. Not six like I originally thought. Let's hope this baby has his/her daddy's math skills for the sake of all that is holy.

It wasn't a total bust, though. I got the ample amount of bloodwork out of the way and also got the sheer joy of having my internal exam and internal ultrasound done (I'm wincing as I type that, actually). I do have to come back next week when I'm six weeks along for another ultrasound (you know, like I was supposed to do today before I flubbed the calculations entirely) and my pap smear (wince).

I also got to get an ultrasound picture, which made the whole ordeal worth it. I'm a terrible patient, but walking out with that little picture of my ohsoadorable baby (don't lie, you know it's the cutest thing you've ever seen!) kind of made me feel on top of the world. I couldn't wait to come home, scan it and send it over to my husband. His response? "It has my eyes." Okay, mock me as everyone (inevitably) will, but it's adorable and you know it.

So here I go again, but at 5 1/2 weeks instead of 6. This puts my estimated due date at July 9th instead of the originally planned July 2nd. July 2nd being a lot cooler because it's my husband's birthday, but due dates aren't set in stone.

I do have one request, though: please don't let this baby be Born On The 4th Of July:

(I hate that movie.)

6 Weeks.

It would really figure that on the morning of my very first doctor appointment, I am suffering from the worst bout of morning sickness so far. I haven't vomited yet but, in my opinion, those mornings where you're too queasy to move and too nauseous to vomit are worse than just puking and getting it over with. When I woke up this morning, my husband asked how I was feeling. I said I was hungry, because I was. I woke up to dreams of my ice, cold bowl of honey nut Cheerios. "That's not good," said my husband. "Why?" "Well, we're out of milk," he explains as he finishes off his bowl of cereal. I actually think I did a good job of swallowing my pregnancy rage. I'm sure he'll have a different opinion.

But then he redeemed his Caring Husband Points and made me scrambled eggs and a piece of toast. It was going great until, mid-bite, the nausea came forward. It gurgled around in my stomach and made my head so disgustingly putrid that even two Preggie Pop Drops didn't do a thing. If I even shifted my weight to sit up higher on the couch, oh man, it was done. I hobbled to the bathroom to try to puke but nothing happened except for the most awful pangs of queasiness with each step I took. Then I realized this was the morning of my first doctor's appointment. Friggin' hell.

I did manage to take a shower, though. I stared at my toothbrush there on the counter, knowing I would have to put on some toothpaste and brush my teeth soon. Toothpaste has been my #1 Pregnancy Nemesis so far. I'm kind of ashamed to admit that I would probably have just chewed a stick of gum and called it a day if it wasn't for the fact that I had my first doctor's appointment today. And, really, do I want to go to the doctor not only looking like hell but smelling like hell, too?

Post-shower, I rubbed lavender oil on my temples and picked up my toothbrush in one hand. I could do this. I could do anything. I did it, actually, without vomiting -- but I'm pretty sure I feel even sicker now. I have that whole kicked-in-the-stomach tummy-flu feeling in addition to just feeling like I was struck by a bus. But at least my teeth are shiny and clean and, good god, my doctor better notice. No lie. She better say something like, "wow, your teeth look nice" or else I seriously may break down. Damn it.

Then as I was getting dressed, my jeans decided they weren't buttoning. That's not really funny because they're the same jeans I wore yesterday (don't hate, okay? I'm not a dirty, smelly person like this post is making me out to be -- I swear!). I wore them last night when we ran out for a few minutes and, you know what? They buttoned. Now they're not even coming close and I had to shove myself into my pants and lay on the bed to zip and button them. Add "extreme bloating" to my list of problems today and, of course, wouldn't it figure it's the day of my very first doctor's appointment.

I'm throwing in the towel, here. My doctor can deal with my bloated, nauseous, super pleasant (please note the sarcasm, okay?) self today...sans make-up. Because the last thing I want to do right now is run an eyeliner over my eyelids or try to make anyone believe that I feel anything other than absolutely miserable. It would just totally figure -- my luck! -- that the first day I'm bringing a puke bag in the car with me would be my first doctor's appointment. Aw, man.


Growing a Cuban.

This afternoon, my aunt Fran and cousin Edward came in from Pennsylvania. We're having a memorial service for my grandmother on Sunday. My aunt Fran was the last of the People To Tell Right Away about my pregnancy and I was waiting to tell her in person.

If you've never been around the Schneider half of my family (the maternal half), you probably still have your full hearing. So congratulations on that! If you have, you know the deafening sounds that come from standard Schneider conversations.

Let's just say that it's kind of a coincidence that my aunt's name is also Fran:

And let's also just say that we all must adapt by shrieking over one another. This is what Schneider's do. My best friend calls it "the Schneider shrill." Our everyday conversations? DEAFENING.

Moving on, I was trying to get a word in and thinking of the right way to drop the bomb as Fran talked about the book she was reading about France in World War II and mom kept giving me "hurry up! Now!" glares. I didn't think that the news should be shouted out as Fran ranted and raved about Nazi Germany and Adolf Hitler, but finally I had a second in. One second to get my point out there.

So I shouted: "Hey, Frannie! I'm growing a human!"

There's this perplexed look on her face. And then: "You're growing a Cuban?" Immediately, my mother and I burst into laughter that confuses her even more. "Cuban? WHAT CUBAN?" she asks, as if this was the most legitimate question in the world.

"No, Frannie. HUMAN!" "CUBAN? Who is Cuban?"

Once we explain to her that I said 'human' and not 'Cuban,' we wait for it to click. Eventually it does.

Later on, she inquires if we can go to the Cuban restaurant for lunch. I stifled a bit of a LOL inside my brain.

Puke and other delightful things.

My husband and I have been together since I was 15 and he was 16. After nearly a decade together, we're pretty comfortable with one another. I think this is a good thing, personally, but it's also funny. I say 'funny' because my husband works some pretty crazy hours. Especially lately, our time together has been very scarce (i.e. we only saw one another last night because he came home from work past midnight as I was up urinating for the five hundredth time). Our conversations thus look a lot like this lately: HIM: "How are you feeling?" ME: "I think I've peed five times in the last hour." As my first trimester continues on and on with it's queasy, sickly glory, our conversations have also evolved: "I vomited so much this morning, it was sick." "I didn't vomit today, but I had some wicked diarrhea."

I mean, right, it only makes sense that the few minutes we get to talk lately should be consumed with talk about bodily functions and how many times I went to (and what I did in) the bathroom. And I think that's "funny." But in a "isn't life funny?!" kind of way. I remember when I was 15 and he came over for the first time, I hid the toilet paper in my bathroom because I didn't want him to know that I peed at all (because apparently urination is SOOOO embarrassing!). Now I'm just waiting for him to call so I can tell him how I just vomited my lunch all over my mom's bathroom.


Not that anyone really wants to discuss food after my beautiful post about vomit and excrement, but I think I'm keeping this place in business lately with my must-have pregnancy cravings:

I should have known something was up pregnancy-wise when I started craving tacos in the middle of the night. I blamed it on PMS. But, man, those cravings were fierce. I kid you not -- last night, I was literally up from 1-2 in the morning because my desire to consume tacos was so fierce that it kept me up all night. Today, my mom ran me by Lime to pick up my tacos which were delicious and hit the spot -- until my afternoon-sickness kicked in and I promptly vomited them in her bathroom. But, oh man, were they good going down. They didn't feel so good coming up, though.



Dear Baby,

So far, I've only known you were on the way for four days. It's funny how knowledge of your arrival kind of exploded our lives into something bigger and better than they were before.

I just want you to know that, ohmygosh, I am tired all of the time. I'm so very much not joking, either. All of the time. I've been going to sleep no later than 9:00 p.m. every evening. Last night was no exception. It's not even noon yet and I've already had two naps (albeit brief -- thanks to those stupid telemarketers calling!). What else is on my agenda today? Napping. Not moving off of the couch, unless it's to move to the bed to get a better nap in. (I guess my calling as a not-so-cool mom begins now, huh?) Whatever the case is, I just can't get enough sleep! You're already wearing me out. I guess this is a sign of things to come!

Your daddy and I absolutely can't wait to meet you. I'm nervous and paranoid and apologize already for the overbearing, over-protective mom that I will inevitably be! More than anything, though, we're excited. It's already been so fun reading about and learning about your growth and development.

Anyway, I have to get going now. It's time for lunch (I'm craving scrambled eggs. I don't even like eggs. In fact, I hate eggs! What are you doing to me, baby?!) and then, inevitably, another nap!

I love you already!

Your Mom (whoa, that's weird!).


5 Weeks:
Biggest Pregnancy Cravings: TACOS!
Food Making My Stomach Turn: Chicken. I can't even look at the packages of chicken breasts in the refrigerator.
What I've Been Listening To Lately:

This Week, I Think You're A... BOY. I just have this gut feeling. For that, sorry for all that Taylor Swift.


Rainy day.

Today I went to Babies-R-Us and parked in one of those "reserved for expectant mothers" spots. I didn't really need to considering it was 11 a.m. on a Monday and therefore nearly every single spot was available. It was just pretty cool and exciting and made my morning.

I had gone to Babies-R-Us to purchase these, per the recommendation from Rhian:

Today I also scheduled my first prenatal doctor's appointment. I'm so nervous yet so anxious (because I am, quite frankly, the most neurotic person on the planet).


Yesterday was a pretty epic day, too, but I was too tired to write about it. I went to bed at 8:30 last night and slept until 7. I'm pretty exhausted now, though, and I've already had one nap today (shut up, it was less than an hour!). I was hoping to get in a walk around the block but it...is...still...raining. I swear, it hasn't stopped for a second all day.

Anyway, getting back to the point, yesterday we told my parents and my sister that we were expecting. They all came over for Halloween because I was taking my sister and her friends trick-or-treating. I had gotten a book called Grandparents Handbook and put it into a gift bag for them to open. Dad opened the bag first and stared at the book in the style of Steve Martin in Father Of The Bride 2. He had no idea. "Oh, cool, thanks." It wasn't until my mom started shrieking, "YOU'RE PREGNANT?!?!" that dad caught on! It was a mixture of yelling from mom and my sister and "ANSWER THE QUESTION!" from dad which was all funny. It was even more happy and exciting than I anticipated that moment being.

So that's that! My family knows, I'm still peeing and napping a lot, I'm nauseous all of the time, and I have my first doctor's appointment. It's starting to feel real -- a little bit. But not too much yet.
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