Clothes woes

Since we found out we’re having a boy, people have bee spoiling him already left and right. We’re well on our way to a substantial little boy wardrobe, especially from my mom, and lately a little from Michael’s mom as well. On Sunday, my mother-in-law surprised me with not only a gift for my son, but a gift for me as well, in the form of clothes.

I was a little apprehensive when I opened the bag, because clothes are such a personal thing. I usually don’t buy clothes for people unless I know for a fact they either wanted it, or would really, really like it. I’ve had some success buying clothes as gifts for my mom and sister, but even those can be a miss every now and then.

To my mother-in-law’s credit, she really tried and it was a very sweet gesture. Unfortunately, the minute I opened the first shirt, I knew it wouldn’t work. Specifically, because it was a perfect square. I know this type of cut can work on some women, but it’s in my experience that on me, if a shirt starts out as a perfect square, it will remain one once on my body.

And with my ever-expanding girth, not to mention a chest that has already grown 3-inches, I could tell that this little shirt was going to look, well…little.

Case in point:

Falls a little short, no? I feel like I should have an open beer can in my hand.

I emailed today thanking her so much, but explaining that the shirt is a little small, and would she mind if I exchanged it? I really hope I didn’t offend her because it was a nice thing she did, but a uni-boob and an exposed gut just won’t cut the mustard around here.

I’m finding that at this stage, nearly 20-weeks pregnant, it’s time to bite the bullet and actually buy some maternity shirts. I’ve been getting away with regular shirts in longer, stretchier styles up until now, but since they provide no definition between my chest and stomach, I’m starting to dislike them. Luckily, I fit into a few maternity tops that were loaned to me by a friend, and the difference is remarkable. I’m also in the market for some simple maternity layering tanks, as all my pre-pregnancy tanks now give me that same exposed stomach look that would be adorable on a sandy beach in Maui, but not so much in chilly Rhode Island. Any recommendations on where to buy some good ones?

My mother-in-law hit the mark with the baby clothes, though. My favorite was a fuzzy lamb-like snow outfit, complete with little ears on the hood. SO CUTE.

Updated to add: for any mommies-to-be, save up to 40% on maternity clothes at Old Navy right now, plus free shipping with code ONGIVE50 at checkout! I scored 11 items for $100 tonight! (I used an old gift card so I didn’t spend any of my own money, but even if I had, it’s a great deal!) Once they arrive I’ll do a post on how the items turned out since I’m ordering without trying on. And for non-mommies, the free shipping works on all orders until February 18th.

Cooking with Molly (and Ina)

It’s suggested that while pregnant, you avoid lunch meat in case it’s carrying Listeria — a type of bacteria that can cause problems in pregnancy. If you really, really want a lunch meat sandwich, it’s said that you can heat the meat through to kill the bacteria. I’ve never been a huge lunch meat person (and the idea of microwaving the meat kind of skeeved me out), so giving it up for nine months wasn’t a big deal.

Until all of the sudden, I wanted a roast beef sandwich. Like, right now.

It became all I could think about. All consuming. Who was this woman lusting over a sandwich, of all things?

I pushed the thought out of my head the best I could and continued about my life, until I caught an episode of Barefoot Contessa on the Food Network, and Ina Garten answered my prayers with a recipe for a homemade steak sandwich. Sold!

I went out that day and bought the ingredients I didn’t already have, which included New York strip steak, bread and fresh thyme. The steak, which can often be expensive, was actually on sale that day, $11 for two steaks, and since I only used one steak for both Michael and myself, the dinner was pretty affordable.

And delicious. OH SO delicious. I made a few changes to the recipe which I’ll share with you (in bold), but I bet the original is equally as good.

Steak Sandwich
Adapted from Ina Garten’s Barefoot Contessa recipe

Ingredients:

1 (12-ounce) 1-inch thick New York strip boneless beef top loin steak

Kosher salt

Freshly ground black pepper

Olive oil

2 yellow onions, sliced in rings (I used one small onion and it was plenty.)

1/2 teaspoon fresh thyme leaves

1 recipe Mustard Mayo (I did not make the mayo, but if you’re interested, it’s in the original recipe linked above.)

2 mini focaccia buns, sliced in 1/2 (I used French bread, because I picked it up freshly baked. Mmmm.)

1/2 cup baby arugula (I had romaine on hand.)

Molly’s addition: enough shredded good cheddar to top sandwich to your liking

Directions:

Season the steak liberally with salt and pepper on both sides. Heat 1 tablespoon of olive oil in a medium saute pan over high heat until it’s almost smoking, then sear the steak on each side for 1 minute. Reduce the heat to low and cook the steak for about 7 to 10 minutes, turning once, until very rare in the middle. (I’m not a fan of super rare, so I cooked the beef a total of 14 minutes, turning once. It turned out a nice medium.) Remove to a plate, cover tightly with aluminum foil, and allow to sit for 10 minutes. Slice the steak into strips.

Using the same saute pan, heat 1 1/2 tablespoons of olive oil over medium heat. Add the onion and thyme and saute for 10 minutes, until the onions are brown and caramelized, stirring occasionally.

To assemble the sandwiches, spread a tablespoon of Mustard Mayo (if you made it) on the bottom half of each bun. Place a layer the steak strips on top of the mayo, sprinkle with salt and pepper, and top with the caramelized onion rings. Place the baby arugula on top of the onion rings, and cover the sandwiches with the top half of the buns.

Molly’s notes: I’m not a big fan of a mayo/mustard combo, so I decided to make a modified garlic bread instead. I sliced the french bread, buttered each half and put them under the broiler until toasty — about 5 minutes. (Keep and eye on them so they don’t burn.) When they came out, I rubbed each half with a piece of garlic. Mmmmm. After I assembled the sandwich, I topped them with grated cheddar (I had Cabot sharp cheddar on hand) because I love cheese. When I make them again (because I will!) I will pop them under the broiler for just enough time to melt the cheese, instead of leaving it cold.

Michael and I were both really impressed by how much flavor came out of so few ingredients, especially since I didn’t make the mayo. I think the star here is the caramelized onion and thyme combo.

I’m definitely making this one again! (And by the way, it totally blew a regular roast beef sandwich out of the water.)

(Photo from the Food Network website, but I think it looked better in real life.)

Belly Friday

Week 19 — almost halfway there!

I must work on mastering the self-portrait.

Happy weekend!

18 weeks

Dear Baby Boy,

You have a pronoun! You’re a “he”, a “him”. This is so very awesome.

Week 18 was my favorite week of pregnancy thus far, because we were able to see you on the ultrasound and this time you were so much more than a little lima bean. You’re a person — an actively kicking little boy, who at one point during the ultrasound put your little fist under your chin like The Thinker. Oh my goodness, you are just too cute.

You spent most of the time on your side, waving hello and kicking Mommy in the kidney. Ouch. The ultrasound tech tried in vain to get you to roll over to get a better view of your other side, but you were too cozy and content to move. Daddy joked that you’re just like him — not a morning person! If you end up being a night owl like him, you will have lots of special bonding time with Daddy night, while I crash into bed by 11…or at least until your next feeding.

Your ultrasound pictures are on the desk in our office — the room that will soon be converted into your bedroom — and every time I walk past the room I have to stop and take a peek. I can’t stop marveling at your little profile, how round your head looks and how tiny your nose. I am unbelievably smitten and find myself pridefully boasting about you and your cuteness to whoever will listen.

They estimated you to weigh about 9 ounces right now, not even as much as a can of soda. According to statistics, you’re a little larger than most babies at this stage, but only a little. And those stats are just an estimate anyway. You probably just had a growth spurt this week — especially since the ultrasound tech laughed and said you have a big belly! Being a worried mommy, I asked if that was OK and she assured me it was — that it just meant you’re a healthy, growing boy. But with a daddy who was 9 lbs. 8 oz. and now stands at 6′4″, you have the potential to be a VERY healthy and big boy. Your mommy was only 5 lbs. 10 oz., so maybe you’ll be somewhere right in the middle. With that round head, I sure hope so for my sake!

The announcement that a little boy was joining our family has been such exciting news for you grandparents, your Auntie S. and extended family and friends. Everyone is so psyched to meet you! This week, two very sweet packages arrived for you, full of the softest and sweetest little clothes I could ever imagine. I held them up to my chest and the smallness of them overwhelmed me. I pictured your Buddha belly filling the onesies and your little legs and arms snuggled inside them and melted into a puddle of mommy goo.

Symptom-wise I feel fantastic, aside from a very stuffy nose (still) and some shortness of breath. Sleeping continues to get less and less comfortable, but we’re down to only one bathroom visit in the middle of the night, and for that, I’m very grateful. Your kicks (I call them “bops”) are getting stronger each day, and I bet Daddy will be able to feel you in the next few weeks.

As I write this, you’re making your now familiar bubbles on my left side. I think we have the Girl Scout cookie I just ate to thank for that. It’s probably a good thing you’re not going to be Girl Scout, because I would buy (and eat) all your cookies!

Thank you for another wonderful week, little boy.

Love,

Mommy

I should bottle this stuff

I’ve always had weird and vivid dreams, but there’s nothing more potent than the dream serum called pregnancy hormones. Every night I have at least two dreams that are so specific and detailed that I think about them most of the day.

Last night I dreamt that I was witness to a drive-by shooting, and spent most of the dream running through a city to avoid the car that was trying to find me. I woke up out of breath! (This can also be because I still can’t breathe out of my stuffy nose and as things move around and more pressure is put on my diaphragm, I’m slightly short of breath occasionally. Fun!)

Then I dreamt that I was a producer on The Real Housewives of Orange County and let me tell you, the drama is REAL. Gretchen was dating some guy I went to college with (??) and everyone was really upset because it looked like they were going to have just the best relationship in the world. Tamera was jealous and wanted to sabotage it.

We, the producers, put together this incredibly cheesy video montage of Gretchen and her man set to horrible music. They were laughing and rollerblading, lunching in the park and holding hands. I don’t think I’d make a very good producer.

Then — cut to a mansion, where Slade is PISSED and threatening to walk off the show if he doesn’t get enough air time. He’s storming from room to room and as he reaches the door to the outside, a fellow producer tells him if he walks out, he’s done.

And he does it! Drama!

Then Gretchen comes chasing after him because she realizes that she either loves him, or she won’t be able to support her lifestyle without him. College guy is left holding a sweat band as the camera zooms in on a discarded Rollerblade, the wheel slowly spinning.

I woke up and told Michael, who thinks I officially watch too much television.

Baby and the Blog

I think there is this misconception that to be a Mommy Blogger, you have to put your child’s picture on the blog. In our case, This Little Baby (This Little BOY!) will not be making photo appearances.

Long before I ever got pregnant, Michael and I discussed it and he was not comfortable with the idea of putting our baby’s face out on the Internet. I pouted about it a little, but realized that in the end, it doesn’t matter. I can still share with you the ups and downs of parenting without posting his face. And I can still get away with pictures of chubby little feet and long eyelashes.

I am hoping to maybe post a few new, new, newborn shots, when he’s really only distinguishable to us, but no promises on that either.

It’s funny. Before I was pregnant I thought this would be a big loss. That not sharing photos of our children would somehow diminish the words I wanted to say. And then we found out he was a boy, and the thought of posting his “boy parts” picture horrified me. Sure, he’s an itty, bitty baby in my womb, but those are his private parts! I’m hardly a prude, but I think I’ll try and avoid embarrassing him until at least the third grade.

And those words? The words that make this blog a blog? They’ll still be here. I think we’ll be just fine.

I will share his name with you, though. After he’s born. There’s a few options being tossed around and I’m excited to choose one.

Although, if you feel like tossing out some boy names, I’d be MORE than happy to look them over. Maybe we’re missing a gem!

Smile EVERYday

On July 31, 2008 I wrote this post. In it I said:

“I have a very strong gut feeling my first child will be a boy. I’ve felt it for years. When the time comes we both agreed we want to be surprised. It will be all yellows and greens until the actual birth day. But I’ll tell you, if I have a girl first, I’ll be SHOCKED.

Unbelievably happy.

But completely and totally shocked.

Can you have mother’s intuition long before you’re even pregnant?”

Obviously, we decided not to wait to find out. It turns out that yes, in fact, you can have mother’s intuition before you’re a mother.

We’re having a BOY!!!!!!!!

I think this is the cutest little profile I’ve ever seen.

Week 17

Dear Baby,

Today is the beginning of our 18th week together and it’s a very special day, because today is the day we find out if you’re a girl or a boy! Every night this week has felt like Christmas Eve to me. I’m so excited to see your little face (albeit a grainy little face, silly ultrasounds) and finally know if you are going to be our little daughter or son. Little Baby, I just have one request of you today: don’t be shy!

My 17th week of pregnancy was a nice one. You’re dancing around more than ever churning up lots of bubbles, even occasionally bopping my insides with some real kicks. Your Daddy has yet to feel them yet, but he really wants to. At this rate, I think he’ll be able to feel you soon. You are especially active after some orange juice or very cold water. You make a big stink if Kodiak barks too loud and yesterday your Daddy let out the biggest burp and you kicked me in protest! I think that means you already have good manners.

Look, here you are!

 

My only discomfort lately has been sleeping. It’s getting harder and harder to get comfortable, but the addition of a third pillow under my neck and shoulders seems to have helped a little. I miss those 14-hour sleep comas from the first trimester, but I suppose the frequent wake ups are good practice for your arrival. But, you’re going to be a good sleeper, right, Baby?

On Wednesday I had my monthly appointment and as soon as the doppler touched my belly, your heartbeat was loud and clear. I couldn’t wipe the smile off my face as I listened to it race away, the loudest and strongest I’ve heard it yet. I will never get tired of that sound.

I love you, my little dancing baby. I can’t wait to see you!

Love,

Mommy

On weight gain

One of the most important things you can do in your pregnancy is gain weight. Of course, it’s suggested you do it in a steady and healthy way (extra veggies, not cookies), but in the end, the goal is the clear: gain weight to promote a healthy pregnancy.

It’s hard to wrap your head around. Four months ago I was still thinking about maintaining a “healthy weight” — feeling a little discouraged that I had gained some of those pre-wedding pounds back. Now the idea of a “healthy weight” has totally changed. Now I have to gain weight, not lose or maintain my weight.

And I will, of course I will. Anything for my baby.

But still, it’s an adjustment.

The “ideal” weight gain for pregnancy is about a pound a week beginning in the 2nd trimester. I say “ideal” because every woman, and every pregnancy is different. Ideal for me is not the same as ideal for anyone else. It’s all dependant on your Body Mass Index, how you gain weight, what you weighed before pregnancy, and a host of other factors. No two women are the same.

As of yesterday, I’ve gained five pounds by the end of my 17th week of pregnancy. I’ve done my best to eat as healthy as possible and I guess it’s working. One thing I want to work on though is incorporating more exercise into my routine. The first trimester really kicked my butt nausea-wise, and exercise was the furthest thing from my mind. The last time I tried to exercise in the first trimester was walking the dog on the beach. I dry heaved into the dunes about six times that day.

And then the second trimester started and it became bitterly cold so yeah. I’ve been lazy. But I’m determined to walk and pratice some prenatal yoga and do light cardio and weights more in the coming weeks.

Yesterday my doctor told me that since my body mass index was on the low side when I became pregnant, a weight gain of 30-35 pounds would be smart for me. That number scares me a little. But I’m not going to stress about it. I’m going to do exactly what I’ve been doing and if I hit that number, I hit that number. If it’s lower, it’s lower and if it’s higher, it’s higher.

In the end, it’s about Baby.

But let’s be honest, I wouldn’t mind if the majority of that weight went right to my belly and not to my face, arms and butt.

What, a girl can dream, right?

The Blighted Ovum That Wasn’t

Or, why you must ALWAYS advocate for yourself and your health.

I’ve received a lot of comments and emails thanking me for being so honest and detailed about my pregnancy. I’m so glad I am able to be a resource for women, even those who have never been pregnant. During my pregnancy I’ve done a lot of reading and research, and if I can be one more stop where you find answers, that’s great. That being said, I wanted to be very honest about the beginnings of my pregnancy, in case anyone finds themselves in a similar situation.

I found out I was pregnant very early on — just 10 days after I ovulated and before I even missed my period. We were overjoyed! I called my doctor immediately and set up some prenatal appointments. My first ultrasound was scheduled for when I was eight weeks along (eight weeks?! But I want to see my baby now!), and I looked forward to that day so very much.

In the meantime, I hit the books. I read as much as I could about early pregnancy including all types of symptoms that I could experience.

So at five weeks when I started spotting, I knew that it was common in early pregnancy.

However, that did not stop me from freaking out. Because common or not, no woman wants to see any blood when she’s pregnant. It’s scary. And especially this early in my pregnancy, if blood did mean an early miscarriage, there would have been nothing that could have been done to save the pregnancy. Here’s the TMI detail for you — the spotting was dark brown, not red, which usually indicates “old” blood. Old blood, in this case, would be better than new, because it could be leftover menstrual blood, or something non-threatening to the pregnancy.

The spotting happened on a Saturday, so when I called my doctor’s office I spoke to the on-call doctor. We’ll call him Doctor X. He was very reassuring and explained to me what I already knew, that so many women experience this, and it’s probably fine. He even said that he expected at least five more calls after me of women in the same situation, that’s how common it is. But to be on the safe side, he wanted me to come in for an ultrasound on Monday.

I was a wreck all weekend. When Monday finally arrived, the spotting was almost gone, but not quite. I knew from all my reading that at this point — just 5 weeks and 4 days into my pregnancy — the ultrasound wasn’t going to show a fetus, because it would just be too small. What we would probably see is the yolk sac — a sac that nourishes the fetus until the circulatory system develops. I was OK with that because I knew what to expect. The ultrasound tech would be looking for signs of bleeding, mostly.

We went to the ultrasound and saw exactly what we were expecting. A yolk sac, confirming yes, I was pregnant. The tech informed us that there was no sign of bleeding elsewhere, and that we would probably come back sooner rather than later for a follow-up ultrasound, to make sure the fetus was growing.

I left feeling so much better and lighthearted.

An hour later, as I was pulling into the parking lot of Panera to pick up lunch, Doctor X called me to go over the results of the ultrasound. I will never, ever, forget the ominous tone in his voice.

“I’ve looked over the results of your scan and I’m sorry to tell you, but I don’t see a fetus…”

I’m not really sure how I managed to park the car, but I did. I sat speechless for a moment, my mind swimming in a thousand different directions before I managed to squeak out, “but, I knew you wouldn’t. I’m not even six weeks yet.”

Doctor X went on to say that I most likely was experiencing a Blighted Ovum pregnancy — “when a fertilized egg attaches itself to the uterine wall, but the embryo does not develop. Cells develop to form the pregnancy sac, but not the embryo itself.” (Source)

“I’m so sorry,” he said.

Fighting back the tears, I choked out, “With all due respect, Doctor X, I’m not ready to give up on this pregnancy yet.”

That’s when he changed his tune, explaining that no, no, no, I’m an OB and I would never give up on a pregnancy.

So that’s when I asked him when I should schedule my next ultrasound. Because I had done my research, I knew I was still so early and the chances of seeing a fetus were less than slim. I can’t explain it, but I knew I hadn’t lost my baby. I knew I was pregnant. And I was going to see that fetus.

“Oh,” he replied. “I hadn’t even thought about that.”

I was furious. He hadn’t THOUGHT about my next ultrasound? He had already dismissed my pregnancy as not viable and hadn’t THOUGHT ABOUT THAT?

He suggested that I might as well go Friday, so that I didn’t have to wait the weekend anxiously. We said our goodbyes, and I drove home in tears to talk to Michael. Michael, who as always, talked me off the ledge and said no, he’s wrong. Call your doctor.

And so I did. I called MY doctor, who I love, and spoke to her about the whole situation. She listened to all my concerns and said that while yes, there was the small chance that I could have a blighted ovum, I also had an extremely early ultrasound, one that she never would have recommended. Because of my reading (again), I asked if it would be OK to push back my second ultrasound until I was in the middle of my sixth week, giving my little baby enough time to show itself on the screen. She agreed 100 percent.

By my scheduled appointment, the spotting was long gone and I held my breath and Michael’s hand as the tech began the ultrasound.

And there was Baby. A perfect little lima bean with a flashing center — its heartbeat. I have never been more happy in my entire life.

As she poked around some more, it was determined that I had a small cyst on my right ovary. Totally common, and probably the ovary that released the egg that became Baby. It’s common for those cysts to cause a little spotting as they disappear, so there you go.

After a follow-up conversation with my doctor, I made a request not to see Doctor X again. My request has been granted and I have only seen two women who are fabulous doctors.

Since that appointment, we’ve heard the heartbeat multiple times, and This Little Baby is dancing away with little kicks here and there. And on Thursday, when we have our next ultrasound, I will probably cry in happiness when I see a little person.

If you take away anything from my story, I hope it’s that you should always advocate for yourself and your health. Do research, get second opinions. And don’t let anyone tell you that you don’t know your body. Because I knew mine.