Introducing: The Tiniest Planker In the World.

Well, I'm glad ONE of us is getting some consistent ab work.

Little Mini Human has taken to planking. Yep. PLANKING. In utero.

How do I know this? It's the only conclusion I can come to when just one particular section of my abdomen pushes out with enormous pressure (they say Braxton Hicks contractions involve the whole belly, which I have experienced, and this isn't the case in these situations).

If you aren't familiar with the ab exercise planking, here is a picture to educate you (this one has a few different options for the position, and from the feel of things I am pretty sure Mini has tried all of them at one point or another):

Alternatively, I guess it could be possible Mini is performing the downward dog position made famous by yoga:

What do you suppose the Mini is thinking? I have to wonder if the dancing I've done so far this pregnancy has inspired a whole fitness regime in there. After all, the journey down the birth canal (barring a c-section) must take some strong baby core strength, right? What's wrong with planning ahead a bit for the trip?

Listen to me, though, little one: There's plenty of time to plank on the outside. I will even buy you your own little baby yoga mat, whatever color you like. Just stop stretching out that little utero-apartment in there.

It kinda hurts.

It's a Whale of a Time.

Lately, I've felt I just cannot get out of bed.
Not because I felt sick, not because I was too tired (even though I am).
It's because I'm huge.
*insert comments from various people who hear the last statement: "JUST YOU WAIT TILL MONTH 9!!! THEN YOU'LL REALLLLLLYYYY FEEL HUGE!" Yep. Thanks for the reminder.*
So back to my whale-like state, or at least feeling like I'm in a whale like state. I have now officially gained over 20 pounds since January. Maybe that doesn't sound like much to you... And to that I don't know what to say... But it feels like an enormous amount to this person (I'm pointing at myself if you can't tell).

Getting back to this morning. There are two techniques I use to get out of bed these days:

1. Roll to my left side, let my legs fall over the side of the bed, plant feet firmly on the ground, and push myself up with my arms-- at least one of them tingly because it fell asleep sometime during the night.
2. Lay there for awhile thinking of alternate ways to get up other than the "log roll" that is recommended to those women who do not desire any more damage to their widening abdominal wall. Get frustrated because I can't think of any. Sigh heavily, think about the times I was able to nimbly use my abs to sit up straight from a supine position. Sigh again. Finally... roll to my left side, etc etc (see #1 for the rest).

Life is strange sometimes. You deal with physical, emotional, and mental changes over the years you spend on this earth. It's what life is all about. But I never thought one of the issues I'd have is how to get out of bed every morning.
Oh, also, putting on shoes is getting to be kind of a problem. More on that in a later blog post.

Gravity, you are not my friend.

Gravity has been plotting against me lately.
I don't know if you remember an earlier blog post about dropping things more consistently-- like my fork, my bag, and my new favorite, ice cubes-- but it has increased tenfold. My hands just seem to think they have a firm hold on something... But they don't. I dropped an entire fourth of a watermelon on the floor the other week. And this morning had a close call with a dozen eggs. Thank goodness somehow I held onto those.
I am officially in my third trimester today. It's the beginning of week 28 and we could quite possibly have a baby Mini on the outside in a matter of ten weeks.
Wait.
...WHAT?!?
*insert breathing sounds here* HEE HEE HOOOOOO! HEE HEE HOOOOOO!
...Ok, I'm fine now.
Another way gravity is not exactly my bestie lately is getting out of a sitting position. Especially when I'm nice and snuggled down in the couch. Man, that thing is hard to get up out of! And, having to think about the "right" way to get up to not irritate my abdominal wall, I have to use my brain too. What is this, pregnancy school? Ha.
The last and final proof that gravity hates me has showed up in ballet class. I used to be a good jumper. That was one of my better skills-- I'd use my leg and core muscles to achieve that "floaty" quality at the top of a jump or leap. Yeah, that's pretty much gone. I'm happy if I get more than an inch off the ground. But at least I'm still doing it, right? Right.
It will be interesting to have my body back after Mini gets here. I'm looking forward to floating at the top of a jump, getting up off the couch in a nanosecond if I wanted to, and not dropping random fruit all over my kitchen floor.
And mojitos. Yeah... Mojitos.

...So you better get this party started.

Apparently there's a rager going on in my uterus at all hours of the day and night. The patterns of activity inside the "party pad" as Mini likes to consider it, are fairly well established.

• Mornings... Right when I roll over as I wake up I feel the following: Kick, kick, kick, kickety, push, KICK KICK. Fairly tame but surprising for first thing in the morning.
• While I eat... Usually not much happening. Fairly quiet. Maybe a gentle PUSH here and there.
• Ten minutes after I eat (especially if I have eaten any form of sweets)... Kick! Kick! Kickety pushpushpush kick KICK! So I guess Mini has a significant sweet tooth like me.
• Random times during the day... KICK KICK kick kick. Push! Kick. I figure it's a way of letting me know the party is still going, but not in a huge way. Just maintaining the festivities.
• Laying down for sleep at night... Kick. Kick.....Kick. KICK KICK KICK PUUUUUUUSHHHHHHH PUUSHHHHHHH PUSSHHHHH (ie, "I'm trying to break out of this place, but it seems straight out your bellybutton isn't the way. Oh well, I'll try harder"). Very active when I am ready to go to sleep. Which makes sense when you realize the party's just getting started.
• When I wake up in the middle of the night, go to the bathroom, or even just turn over... KICK KICK KICK KIIIIIIIIIIIICK BODY SLAM KICK BODY SLAAAAAAMMMMMMMM!!! "Iiiiiiiii'm coming up SO YOU BETTA GET THIS PARTY STARTED!!!" Apparently, Mini feels even just a turn over in the bed it's time to partay. With a big AY. 

Watch and listen to the Pink video to get the full effect of what happens in the party pad (a.k.a., my uterus) at 2 am, or 4 am, or 6 am (sometimes all three).

I Have a Soccer Ball In My Belly.

"How are you feeling?" is by far the most common question I get lately as my belly grows. And grows. And grows.
"Do you know what you're having yet?" is the second. The answer is: We are hoping for a human baby. OH, you meant the gender! We are keeping that little tidbit private until our gender-reveal shower in July!
I will answer the first question however, with two simple words: Belly Problems. My body has been changing rapidly (at least it feels rapid to me) and dramatically over the last two months. I consistently misjudge how far I stick out in the front. For example, here are the things I've run into lately-- some of which I have LITERALLY run into:

• When Trying on an Ergo Baby Carrier: We were in Babies R Us and I noticed a big old hole out the bottom of the thick belt around my non-existent waist. I got really worried, thinking, "Isn't the baby going to fall out??" Luckily Casey, who often functions as my brain when I'm tired at the end of the day, reminded me I indeed have a significant baby belly. After I give birth that will hopefully go away. Then the Ergo will fit, and voila, baby won't fall out the bottom of the thing.

It, of course, fit Casey just fine and dandy. What's in there, you ask? A 7 pound bag of beans. I knew that would come in handy someday.

•  When Making Food in the Kitchen: While chopping, pouring, or stirring I often find something gets in my way when scooting up close to the counter. Oh yeah. It's that inflated belly with the cuteness inside. Learning to be careful, especially when scooting at a higher speed.
• When Expecting My Body to Feel the Same Despite the Fact My Uterus Is Now the Size of a Soccer Ball: Yes, a soccer ball. Let's just pause for a moment and think about that. Isn't it weird my insides haven't exploded all over the place already, and that the other organs are so polite as to just "scoot out of the way" for the uterus? The uterus must be some big cheese of organs for this sort of royal treatment. Of course there are issues as far as how much I can eat at once. Small meals and more often is the way to go... I've found. Also, the muscles have already gone through some major changes and stretching, which involves some (sometimes a lot of) discomfort. Did not expect that to be my number one complaint, but when you think about the physical implications of pregnancy, maybe I should have!
• When Not Expecting to Feel Heavier: NEWS FLASH!! The belly is heavy. I know, I know, it's gonna get worse (why do people say that kind of stuff anyway? That's like saying "you just wait until you have the swine flu" to someone who has a cold). But it doesn't change the fact that it feels heavy now. I'm carrying around about 18 extra pounds total at the moment, not all of that belly. And it makes me exhausted a good amount of the time. Especially during small jumps in ballet class, which I'm still enjoying attending.

After ballet class at 25 weeks. 

So how am I feeling? In a nutshell, tired. I've found I can choose TWO major things to do during a day. That's all. I try to squeeze in three and it feels like I've run a marathon. I often look at the picture of myself as Sugar Plum Fairy up on our mantel and think, "HOW IN HOLY TARNATION DID I DO THAT?!?" So please don't be insulted if I tell you I can't make it out... I must have already been to Ikea and gone grocery shopping. Or vacuumed, and then gone out to the store to find a shirt that actually fits my huge belly.

Under Construction

Have you ever missed your exit on the freeway? And you know already that the next exit is two or more miles away?
You're just on the freeway, moving along at 65 plus miles an hour, and you can't get off. There's nothing you can do about it.
This whole growing a mini human experience feels a bit like that. Not in a bad way (because when you miss your exit, you desperately want to get off but can't). I don't want to get off this train. Pregnancy has treated me fairly well so far. But there is a distinct feeling of being on a runaway train-- physically, emotionally, financially, and mentally.
Example: My normal attire almost daily for at least an hour and a half is a skintight leotard and tights/shorts. My stomach area started out totally flat, even at about seven weeks along. Then slowly but surely, the bump began to grow.
"Duh," you are thinking, "That's what happens when you are pregnant." But wait a minute-- up until January, my career has been to a) Stare at myself in the mirror, b) Scrutinize my body shape/poses, and c) Sculpt my muscles, lines and positions toward the unreachable ballet ideal. And the appearance of this small but growing melon right in my center kinda sorta throws me off. Mentally and physically. And to be honest, sometimes emotionally as well.

Imagine you are an accountant. Your job and life is to add, subtract, multiply, etc. One day your mind begins to change without you even realizing it. At first it's barely noticeable-- you are making tiny mistakes (ie, like my belly pulling my weight forward in ballet class) in your calculations, occasionally putting a wrong number in the spreadsheet cell. Slowly but surely, the mistakes get a little more frequent and pronounced. Your calculations are pretty much always off. By a lot. And you know it's going to be like that for 10-ish months. You basically must change your entire lifestyle and way of doing your career.
That's what this feels like. A strange, yet wonderful Twilight Zone where there is a cute little mini human inside my uterus. This mini human has begun to totally change my life and outlook in so many ways. I wouldn't have it any other way, but I'm tellin ya... what a perspective shift.

I'm learning to accept my limitations with humor instead of frustration. I have learned to naturally modify my daily ballet class without getting irritated about it. I know and understand this runaway train isn't probably going to stop until around September 20th (my new due date), and I am going to continue getting bigger. And bigger. And heavier too (adding to my already aching calves).
And that's ok. Because, as my good friend Beth told me early on, "You get a prize in the end." What a beautiful way to think about this short period-- looking out of the window of the train and enjoying the scenery instead of just waiting at the door to get off.

The Mini Human Is Planning a Break-Out

Mini human at 20 weeks, planning the escape from the womb by feeling out the periphery.

This is what a 20 week old mini-human looks like, apparently. One that is pushing with all its might against the placenta like there is a lifetime supply of chocolate on the other side... Which, ironically, there is. Maybe the mini is smarter than we thought.
We had our "long" ultrasound the other day (which turned out to be not so long... kind of disappointing but we got a few more pictures and a few video clips out of it, so not so bad I guess). Mini was moving and pushing around inside there, almost like a mime tries to push its way out of an invisible box. It was so nice to see that movement and hear the heartbeat. Strangely, as I watched the pushing and moving on the screen, I could not feel a thing-- although in the few days since then I've felt much more movement than I have in the whole first half of the pregnancy.
The good news? Everything checks out normal and good, I cannot tell you what a huge sigh of relief came out of me when they informed us of Mini's general good health. The bad news? I'm only halfway done and I'm all of a sudden looking like I have a small watermelon hidden under my clothes.

I Felt That.

Current mini-human status: 20 weeks along. He or she is apparently the length of a banana (what!?!) and a little over half a pound. I'm feeling movement coming from inside my uterus now as well... All part of this weird ass experience they call pregnancy. Below are my personal phases of feeling movement so far (more to come, from what I hear):

Phase One: "Oh, that was just gas."
Phase Two: "That felt a little different from gas. Was that something? Nah, probably not."
Phase Three: "Ok, that definitely was super strong and weird... I think that was a kick. But I'm probably just imagining it and wanting it to be a kick. Never mind."
Phase Four: "WHAT. WAS. THAT."

Phase Four is mainly where I'm living right now, because I've learned to ignore the little flutters, being a self proclaimed realist. Also, let's be honest: Who wants to get all emotional over something you ate half an hour ago?

Half the time I feel something I am analyzing how far it was over to the side of my abdomen, which I understand is where some sections of my intestines have moved. If it's fairly close to the side I often blow it off as digestion. More often these days, however, I get the little flutters and what feels like taps (like when someone taps you on the shoulder) near the center. As we speak I'm feeling some little taps near my belly button, but just a little below it. I just ate, which is often when I feel stuff happen. Especially when I'm eating chocolate.

Not my belly, image found on Pinterest-- so funny, especially being at 20 weeks: halfway done.

Many moms tell me they felt this was the time they worried less about the baby because they could tell they were moving around. I'll agree with that one. Along with this though is when you don't feel movement for a while, then you worry a bit. Apparently my placenta is placed directly in front, which my Dr. said will decrease my ability to feel "consistent" movement.

Still- kind of an "alien" experience, to feel someone completely OTHER doing little kicks and punches and somersaults inside of me.

Baby Weight?

If you've never been pregnant, and would like to feel like you are, try strapping a few extra pounds to your stomach and spin around a bit. Then add the desire to spin gracefully without falling over and you've got "Gina's Current Situation In Ballet Class." Turns/pirouettes are sometimes easier when my new baby weight is pulling me in the right direction... Other times it can be bad. Very bad. Not to mention, not graceful. Here's me today after class (fighting with all I've got to keep my arabesque at 90 degrees/hip level-- not giving that up without a fight):

20 weeks along in ballet class.

The Real Bump

"Wow, you finally have a baby bump!"
So, apparently I'm "showing" now. There's no hiding behind baggy clothes anymore (in fact, the baggier the item is, the bigger I look because it extends the bump down further than it really is... thereby making me into a human tent). I find the more form fitting the garment, the slimmer I look. For example, in ballet class I removed my flowy tunic-type tank top and just went with my leotard and shorts-- and found that I look significantly LESS pregnant.

Me at 16.5 weeks (about 3 weeks ago)

The comments are coming in at a faster rate than before, which is expected. What isn't expected is that I'm getting different types of comments regarding my size. One day I find people say that I have a big bump, and the next people say I look tiny for almost 20 weeks. Team"Big Bump" seem to be people that know me and know my body-- i.e., people who see me almost daily and have for years, in ballet class. The leotard is not the most, um, FORGIVING thing to wear when gaining weight shall we say.
I went to the dentist the other day and they found out I am about 19 weeks along. The tech promptly said, "Wow you look great for 20 weeks." Not exactly sure what that means, but was nice to hear. The tailor I brought some pants into noticed my bump and said, "You have baby?!" I nodded yes, and she said, "Must be TINY baby!" At first it was confusing to hear such insanely different comments, but understandable when I think about how well each of these people know me and what I normally look like. My older ballet students recently told me they could tell way back in February that something was up-- props to them for being so observant!
Thankfully I am used to people randomly commenting on my body so I barely bat an eyelash when I get these comments. I know they bother a lot of pregnant women (and I am not ruling out the possibility that in the future I might get tired of it all), but for now it's fine with me. I don't even mind when people touch my belly (I'm a physical touch person). Somehow it makes me feel like this baby is already loved and cared for by others.
And that's a good feeling.

The Long Awaited Confession at the Nail Salon

First off... If you've never seen this video (which I can't imagine that you haven't), you must watch it NOW.

I have been going to the same nail salon, near one of my workplaces, for about five years. And every single time, without fail, they ask me when I'm going to have a baby. After of course, asking if I'm married. When I tell them no, I don't have a baby yet because I'm a ballet dancer and fitting in a tutu is kind of a job requirement, the same conversation always ensues. They first say, "Oh that why you so skinny! I wish I was that skinny!" while patting their stomach or pinching their side (which are actually very slim). Then, I just smile and look awkward, because what do you say to that?
It's kind of amusing how acquring pretty nails sometimes requires you open your personal issues to the more friendly staff. And the even friendlier staff like to share their own lives too. "I have three kid by the time I'm 30," is something I'd sometimes hear, "...and my daughter still live with me! She likes clothes so she spend money on that instead of house." Yep, I did hear that last part at one point.
So the other day, I visited the salon because I desperately needed a manicure. They assigned me one of the quieter ladies so I thought I might get away with not discussing my family choices (especially because I was wearing a longer wrap jacket which sort of hides the belly). No such luck.

not my nails, but I'm thinking now I might have to try this.

The very friendly lady who always harassed me about having babies walks by and says, "You still dancing?"
Here we go, I thought. "Not as much," I said, shaking my head, waiting for the axe to fall.
"Why?" she asked, then half a second later her face lit up. She pats her stomach, taking a couple steps toward me, clearly asking if I was with child.
"Yep," I said, smiling (let's get this over with).
The mild pandemonium that ensued was pretty entertaining, and also pretty fun. They asked me how far along I was, when I was due, and all the other typical questions. I was happy to finally be able to give them the answer they clearly had been wanting for years. They also shared some stories about their pregnancies and that was fun to hear as well.
And I'm willinng to bet a good deal of money that after I have the mini-human, the next question will be, "When you have second baby?"

What do YOU want to be doing at 80 years old?

I found this video just perusing my Facebook feed. Little did I know it would make my whole day. Going along with my "Capable" theme of yesterday's blog, I don't know if I've ever been so inspired. Take a watch at Paddy and Nico.

This is what I want to be doing at 80. Ok, maybe not on Britain's Got Talent (my American-ness kinda gets in the way for that), but I want to be DANCING, flipping, and loving life to the beat of my favorite music, daily.
And right now? I want my child to continue to hear the music and feel the movement even before he/she is born.
It makes me miss my beautiful Grandma Kay as well, who did swing and lindy hop dancing back in the day and was my inspiration for one of my characters in "Birth of Rock and Roll" with Ballet Ariel a couple years ago.
I will carry on the tradition. Don't you worry, Grams.

Capable

Jennifer and Robert Mason, photo by Richard Calmes

Isn't this amazing? We don't see a lot of images of pregnant women dancing out there, and far fewer in ballet. Pointe shoes paired with a baby belly are virtually impossible to find. Which is why I get so excited by this picture above (Jennifer and Robert Mason, photo by Richard Calmes).
As a dancer, I get my heart and soul's life blood from dance and movement/exercise. My body has always functioned better when I'm "in shape" or exercising through the art form of dance. My ballet classes, rehearsals, and what not keep me sane and physically healthy.
I have done a ton of research in what is safe as far as exercise during pregnancy, and what I found surprised me-- that I am, my body is, capable of doing much more than what the "stop doing everything normal, you are a baby oven for nine months so don't do ANYTHING" stereotype says. I have had amazing examples around me for models of fitness during pregnancy (one friend who danced on pointe till the day she delivered!).

This is me after ballet class a few weeks ago (approx. 14.5 weeks pregnant).

I am listening to my body and my Dr., and also continuing in what I'm capable of, for both myself and the baby. Turns out that a good amount of exercise is way better than staying on the couch (for both parties), not to mention facilitates an easier labor process... That's enough motivation to keep me in class for sure.
There are a lot of myths out there, but also a lot of truth. I'm grateful for the truth-- and will be continuing to listen to the fact that pregnant women are capable of a lot more than even they think! The truth literally has set me free in this case, which brings me so much joy.

Adorable?

***This post was written a couple weeks ago. Finally, this is the last back-log of posts I will be posting! We are up to "real time" now in my blogging. Woot!
If you want to hear the story of how we found out, click here (the first blog in this series)

I've been called "cute" and "adorable" a lot lately in dance class... Have to admit-- I'm not use to that. I didn't get a lot of "cute" in the past. I thrived on making my colleagues and fellow dancers laugh, to complete a large jete correctly, to nail an arabesque balance. I have a sneaking (and correct) suspicion this is because I have a small "baby bump" now. And it's hard to hide while wearing skintight leotards (which are slowly getting more and more skintight by the day).

Some of the best words you can possibly hear describing you/your dancing in the professional ballet world are as follows: Amazing. Fierce. Clean. Mesmerizing. Lovely.

Don't get me wrong, I don't mind "cute" so much. But it's a strange departure from the occasional compliment I'd get in class, onstage or rehearsal. I'd savor the moments when I'd hear from a colleague or a friend, "I couldn't keep my eyes off you when you were onstage," or "You had such great lines in that part!"

And now? Ok,ok, I understand that all things baby will now veer in the direction of "adorable," "cute," and "darling." And because I am housing one of these cute beings, people might automatically see and describe me as these things as well. But when I'm in ballet class, I don't feel "cute." I feel tired and most of the time, frustrated. My body does not do things the way it used to. My energy level is about 60% of what it used to be, and therefore my skill level has diminished. My typical deep back por de bras-- backbend-- has reduced quite a bit, for example (something I was pretty proud of being able to do before). Just for scale, here's what I used to be able to do (I am in the forefront):

"figs of my im." with Kevin Burke and Rebecca Dean, choroeg. by Gregory Gonzales (photo by Peter Strand)

 Although I DO feel much more fatigued (comparatively) to what I felt like pre-pregnancy, surprisingly alongside this I occasionally feel fierce. Strong. When I finish a combination strongly and with energy, when I nail a turn, when I stick a balance-- I feel awesome. However, there's nothing about this changing ballet experience that feels adorable to me.
So please hear me: I am happy I look cute to you. I will accept this compliment gladly. BUT-- I look forward to the day when I will again feel 110% amazing and fierce. I look forward to the day I will once again feel like I'm able to kick ass alongside my ass-kicking colleagues. Like how I felt in this moment below:

Pre-pregnancy-- not a problem (photo by Peter Strand)

Maternity Jeans

***This post was written late March . Keep this in mind as you read. In addition, there are a couple more posts I've written documenting my experience during March. I will be posting these last ones in the next couple days.
If you want to hear the story of how we found out, click here (the first blog in this series)

So... I wore my maternity jeans for the first time today.
Oh, yeah. It's ON.
For some reason this made me feel the reality of this huge life change sink in a little more. And the small decision to wear this particular pair of pants for the first time was kind of a big one for me (even though I bought them over a week ago). It's like saying, "Yes. I kinda sorta understand that I now have a living being inside my uterus and I am responsible to keep him/her safe." When you think of it that way... It seems kind of huge, doesn't it? I'm still in the stage of "What the heck is going on here. Wasn't I onstage for Nutcracker just a few days ago? No? Ok then."
Regardless of my mental gymnastics over a silly pair of pants, I must say... They are frickin' comfortable! See below (not me in the picture but check out what makes them so comfortable-- the stretchy fabric holds them up!):

not my belly. found on Pinterest :)

The Fake Bump

***This post was written mid-March . Keep this in mind as you read. In addition, there are a couple more posts I've written documenting my experience during March. I will be posting new ones daily, so check back often if you'd like to hear the whole story up till now!
If you want to hear the story of how we found out, click here (the first blog in this series)

***PREEMPTIVE NOTE TO THE READER: THE PICTURES BELOW DO NOT INCLUDE MY REAL-TIME BELLY. IT'S A FAKE. IF YOU WANT TO FIND OUT HOW I MANAGED THIS GREAT FEAT, READ ON.***

Did you know that maternity stores have fake baby bumps in their dressing rooms, so you can get an idea of what a shirt/pair of pants will look like at 7 months?
I didn't, but I found out after I caved and went maternity clothes shopping. Mostly because the only pieces of clothing in my house that fit me currently are a few shirts... and that's it.
The most mind blowing part of the whole experience (which was mainly delightful with a touch of weirdness) was the big old FAKE seven month bump in the dressing room.
"Make sure you try on the pants with the seven month bump so you can know how it will feel later," the saleslady said to me as I entered the dressing room.
"Ok, yeah, I am so not ready for that," I thought to myself. But then curiosity got the best of me and I strapped it on. This (pictured below) is what she claimed I'll look like at 7 months pregnant:

the front of the (FAKE) bump...

Side view of the FAKE 7 month bump

You get the idea. I think you also get a good idea of what I'm thinking about the enormity of the fake bump  in these photos. By the way, and once again, yes-- for those of you who have not seen me lately, I DO NOT LOOK LIKE THIS YET. It is a fake bump that looks enormously real.
 "This is freaking me out a bit," I said to the saleslady, cautiously exiting the dressing room (half expecting the sheer size of the fake bump to pull me over on my face).
"Oh, you'll definitely be that big," she said matter of factly.
HA! What does she know?!? "Uhm, I don't think so," I replied.
"Ohhhh yes you will! And even bigger later!" she continued.
"So wait... Are you sure this isn't a NINE month bump??" I asked incredulously, feeling the enormity of the bump with my hands from top to bottom. I have, by the way, known a great number of pregnant women in my time. But when the fake belly is on your real belly for the first time, it just feels really bizarre and unreal.
"Ohhhhhh yes," she said, chuckling, "You'll be WAY out here (pointing to a point ridiculously far away from my current belly button) at nine."
!!!!
Good times.
Anyway, after that, I actually broke down and bought some jeans and a few tops including the one I'm wearing in the photo. I must say-- very comfortable! And the best feature of all this? They will last me all nine months and beyond because they stretch out without ruining the garment. Genius!

The Renter in My Uterus

***This post was written a full month ago (today being April 9) . Keep this in mind as you read. In addition, there are a few more posts I've written documenting my experience during March. I will be posting new ones daily, so check back often if you'd like to hear the whole story up till now!
If you want to hear the story of how we found out, click here (the first blog in this series)

My belly is not my own anymore. This has become very clear in the last week or so. When I try to get up from the couch when I'm tired, I (without even being aware of it) push myself up belly first, instead of naturally using my abs to PULL myself up. With great effort. And I'm only 13 weeks along, seriously?
What a difference from before. I had (mostly) complete control of my body. My directors would ask me to jump, I'd say, "How high?" They'd ask me to do five releves in arabesque or a pirouette from fifth position and I'd say, "No problem!" Now, the renter in my uterus (albeit, most likely a pretty cute renter) has a lot of say in what I'm able to do and what I'm not.
I notice a feeling of distinct "other" in my center. Not a scary "Other" like in the amazing series LOST, but a kind of "other" that is not just ME in the driver's seat of my abs anymore. There is a space in there, I can FEEL it, that wasn't there before. I blame it on my growing uterus--which apparently was tiny before. And of course by now the little human is supposedly the size of a small peach. Which brings me to my underlying point of this paragraph: WHAT?!?
Which dovetails into my next point: What happened to my abs? I'm about to start paying for space on the back of milk cartons, featuring this text: "Missing! Gina's abs. In the place they once were, is now a small but distinct layer of poofiness. Reward for any information found."
Anyway, so far I don't think it's obvious (yet!) I am renting out space my uterus to a small human. I of course can tell the difference because it was previously my paying job to stare at my body and make it perfectly placed-- but judge for yourself (me at 13 weeks in ballet class):

at 13 weeks in ballet class

I am still enjoying ballet class. Noticing myself having to make small adjustments in what I'm doing of course, but still very grateful for the outlet and place to exercise and express my art. Hoping my little renter is enjoying the movement and music as well.

Donuts and Chicken Enchiladas.

***This post was written very early March. Keep this in mind as you read-- people have been asking my how my nausea is-- the answer is it's much better right now! These posts are about a month old, so things have changed a bit. In addition, there are several more posts I've written over the last few months (about half not posted here yet) documenting my experience. I will be posting new ones daily, so check back often if you'd like to hear the whole story up till now!
If you want to hear the story of how we found out, click here (the first blog in this series)

The other day I bought a few donuts at Winchell's. Because all of a sudden I needed them. Mostly chocolate ones.

Yeah. You get me.
But then, when I got home, my body no longer NEEDED them. Something in my body chemistry changed in a couple hours. So I put them in a tupperware container, thinking that my chemistry would change back in probably a day. Or a few more hours.
And it did... Except that the next day I really, really wanted chicken enchiladas. I planned to go to the store and get them, but didn't have time. Good thing, because the next day? You got it! I no longer really NEEDED them.

Gah! Can you understand how frustrating this is to me? Not only to my pocketbook, but as a ballet dancer I am used to CONTROLLING my body and telling IT what to do. NOT the other way around. I don't want to go to the store, buy a bunch of things I want at the moment, but find I no longer want any of it the next day. You hear that, body? You're going to eat the donut and like it.  Because I went out of my way to get it on my way home from teaching and I was super hungry, but did it anyway.
Here's what my body replied: "Oh yeah? So remember the on and off queasy you have been getting? Heheheh."
Here's what I said back: "Um YES. So? Thanks for all that, by the way."
My body: "Not a problem G. So, if you force me to ingest this donut, how do you know what I WON'T do to you regarding nausea? Heheheheh."
Me: "Ok ok ok ok ok! Subject dropped! Thanks for everything you do! Love you body! MUAH!"
Today I had already had two breakfasts. Yes I'm eating a lot! Does that shock some of you? It shouldn't, because I already did pre-weird ass state of affairs. But I digress. I have literally doubled my food intake. Not even half an hour after my second breakfast, I was hungry again. For a donut.
So I looked over to the tupperware of goodness on the counter-- still there!
If you're wondering how good a few days-old cinnamon roll can be, the answer is: VERY, VERY GOOD.

It Gives "Pull In Your Stomach" a Whole Different Perspective...

***This post was written very early March. Keep this in mind as you read. In addition, there are several more posts I've written over the last few months (about half not posted here yet) documenting my experience. I will be posting new ones daily, so check back often if you'd like to hear the whole story up till now!
If you want to hear the story of how we found out, click here (the first blog in this series)

As a professional ballet dancer (on hiatus... for now), much of my time has been spent pulling in my center, pulling up my legs, pointing my feet, and other dancer concerns.
Today as I took class, I realized it would become harder and harder to maintain my natural, um... "strong center." My little blue skirt wasn't hanging as, ahhhh, STRAIGHT as it has in the past. My good friend came up to me and said, "I can kind of tell a little bit now!" Meaning, she can see a beginning of a poof.
As a normally slim person, this is kind of throwing me for a loop. The biggest change has been just poofing a bit in the center. It is definitely one of the oddest parts of this overall weird-ass experience of pregnancy.
Soon, I'm not going to be able to "pull in my stomach" any longer at all!
Additionally, I'm praying dancing consistently will help in that my body will adjust to the added "off center-ness" week by week. Adagio (mostly balancing on one leg while doing crazy difficult things with your other leg and arms) has been somewhat of a joke lately. Hopefully I won't end up falling over and embarrassing myself (although I have done that in the past, non-pregnant... so my fellow dancers probably wouldn't be too shocked).
I am MORE than excited I am still able to get through a professional level ballet class (although admittedly not at my same energy level as before), and I hear that regular exercise helps with a good delivery. So off to class I will go, with my growing poof. Wish me luck.

"thump thump thump thump"

***This post was written very early March. Keep this in mind as you read. In addition, there are several more posts I've written over the last few months (about half not posted here yet) documenting my experience. I will be posting new ones daily, so check back often if you'd like to hear the whole story up till now!
If you want to hear the story of how we found out, click here (the first blog in this series)

So. We recently got to hear the baby's heartbeat again (Casey's second time and my third time, my first being the ultrasound at 7 weeks that ruled out ectopic pregnancy). For some reason I thought maybe we'd get a peek at the kid again along with a heartbeat. But alas... with a raised eyebrow my OB informed me usually you only get two ultrasounds a pregnancy. One earlier on, and one at 20 weeks.
For our second appointment, being at 11.5 weeks, we were ushered (on time! miracle of miracles!) into a small room that we immediately noticed was clearly missing the flat screen our first appointment room had. Casey and I looked at each other and I could see the gears turning in his head. "Maybe she has a thingy on wheels she'll bring in here." "Yeah, there's nothing in here that you could even hear the heartbeat on," I said. And I knew for SURE we'd get to hear the heartbeat.
A few minutes later our Dr. walks in with a walkie-talkie looking thing in her hand. "Uh oh," I thought. "This doesn't look good for us getting a peek." That was when we found out we just got to hear the heartbeat. But that's ok, because that part is always very, very impactful. It's hard to explain if you've never experienced it.

This is what the fetal doppler looked like.

She basically moved the wand thingy all over my belly until she found the right spot, and then out of seemingly nowhere, comes the sound of a (much faster) "thump thump thump thump"... From my UTERUS.
That moment is always sort of awe-inspiring. I think I walk around most of the time in denial I have a human LIFE just hanging out in my uterus. "It's the most natural thing in the world, having a baby!" people say. I say, "Um, NO IT'S NOT. There's a MINI-HUMAN in my UTERUS." So, I'm very sorry, but to me it doesn't feel natural just yet.
So the moments I hear the heartbeat are an intense reality check where I cannot deny that there is really something BIG going on. No less inside of me. I am nowhere near able to comprehend it. But I figure that comes later... Meanwhile I will enjoy being dumbfounded by the sound of that "thump thump thump thump" coming from ME... but isn't me.