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A text conversation from yesterday:

Me: I’m sitting in the waiting room. There’s a woman wearing a leather motorcycle jacket that says “Elton John! Saturday Night’s Alright by ME!” Hahahahaha!

Sister: Bahahahahaha

Me: I mean, what? She looks like a tough cookie, too.

Sister: Weird…

Me: Even weirder is that it’s my OBGYN office, so I know why she’s here!

Sister: Haha. She’s getting her Elton John checked out.

And then I died.

…and then I’m done, I promise.

I think I’m giving some people the wrong impression that while I agree that pregnancy — especially for first-time mothers — can make women very belly-centric,  that means I have no life outside of my pregnancy. I find this ridiculous. Someone yesterday said I was “obsessed” with my pregnancy. Obsessed? No. Fascinated, interested, wanting to share everything I’m learning? Yes. I know what I said in the post, but I think I just didn’t say enough to be clear.

This is my forum to dump whatever is going on in my head. I’ve been doing it for years. For awhile, I wrote about shoes all the time. I was super interested in them. Some people loved it, some people said I was vapid. Then, I wanted to get engaged, and I wrote about that a lot. Some people could relate, others called me annoying. Then the wedding…a LOT of wedding. I bet you can guess how people felt. You can’t please everyone.

Now, I’m pregnant. And in this forum, I’ve chosen to share my thoughts and feelings with my readership. I realize I never “marketed” this space as a Pregnancy Blog, but then again, I never “marketed” it as anything other than what’s going on in my life. So as my life evolves, the blog can only do the same.

A life, that I do, still in fact have outside the circumference of my stomach. I do daily things and enjoy activities that have nothing to do with a baby. And I plan on continuing things that have nothing to do with a baby after I give birth.

But because this forum has allowed me to connect with so many different people outside of my every day life, it’s been a great place for me to share. Especially since it’s connected me with so many women who are either pregnant, have been pregnant, or are trying to become pregnant. It’s the same way I became friendly with former brides-to-be (some who are now real life friends) through blogging, because we could all relate to each other.

I realize that some of you are bored and since the nicer ones have stated that you’d like to hear a little bit more of that every day stuff sans pregnancy, I will make an effort to bring some of that back. Along with the pregnancy posts. Because guys? I’m pregnant. And I’m still going to talk about it. Just maybe not all the time.


Said to younger boy from older boy in the cleaning product aisle:

“It’s OK to hit girls as long as you’re under 18. Once you turn 18, you’re an adult, and you can get in big trouble for that.”

A woman who I assumed was his mother smacked him upside the head after that.

Those you following me on Twitter may have noticed a tweet today where I wrote about stumbling across a link to Craigslist, where I was being discussed in thread about blogs as having become a stereotypical smug pregnant woman.

At first I was taken aback. I was annoyed. I took it to Twitter. And then I sat back and thought about what might have given that person the idea that I had become smug.

Not long after announcing my pregnancy on the blog, I wrote a post where I mentioned it only took us six weeks to conceive. The exact words I wrote were “ummm…no. It only took six weeks.” I realize that the way it was written could have made me appear smug. Like I was gloating in my abilities as a fertile woman, when every day thousands of women are struggling with infertility. If anyone took my comment to mean as much, I apologize. What I meant to convey (badly, apparently) was surprise in the fact that it took such a short time.

If I haven’t conveyed it enough here, I feel honored and blessed each and every day to be carrying a healthy baby. I don’t take that for granted for a second.

Aside from that comment, I realize that 99% of my blog since December has been about being pregnant. However, that’s just how it’s going to be. Because, see, I write about my life. And my life right now is my pregnancy. I want to talk about it all the time and while my friends are great about wanting to hear about it, I realize not everyone in the world is. The beauty about blogs is that if you don’t want to read it, you don’t have to. That little ‘X’ at the top of your screen is a quick exit when your eyes start glazing over at another post about me being pregnant.

All that being said, I want to answer my own question posed in the title: Are Pregnant Women Smug?

My answer is yes.

To an extent.

Hear me out…before becoming pregnant, I would listen to pregnant and mommy friends with interest…for awhile. And after a little bit, I too would glaze over and start thinking about when I could flag down the waiter for my next mojito. While I thought the whole experience sounded cool, there was nothing I could really relate to for very long, and thus became uninterested.

Pregnant women talk about themselves a LOT. We become totally self-centered and have a hard time focusing on life outside the belly. I can only speak to those going through a low-risk pregnancy like myself, but I know that I talk about everything from baby kicks to aches and pains because I’ve never experienced anything like it. No other time in my life have I become more fascinated with my own body and even if people don’t care, I think they must absolutely want to hear about it because I think it’s so cool.

I’ve had “smug” moments come back and bite me in the ass. I thought I’d get through the morning sickness without throwing up. (Wrong). I thought I’d gain weight slowly. (This month? WRONG.) I thought a lot of things, because I had never been through it before.

I think the perception that pregnant women are smug (and I think it must be a perception — the author of the forum said I was the definition of a typical smug pregnant woman, so she must know of more than one), comes from the fact that we walk around in this bubble, rubbing our stomachs looking blissed out and talking about how wonderful pregnancy is, the beauty of creating life, blah, blah, blah.

So while I agree that pregnant women can become annoying, I think maybe “smug” is the wrong word. I think we become more cliché than smug. And maybe a bit boring to anyone who’s not in our shoes at the same time.

I am totally and completely in love with the little boy growing inside of me right now, and I won’t apologize for that. But I will understand if some of you only stop by every now and then so as not to be beat over the head with all baby, all the time.

You can call me a cliché, or even a little self-absorbed right now. But I don’t think I’m all that smug. I mean, how smug can I be while talking about smelly farts and expanding bust lines?

A reader pointed me towards this hilarious video, aptly titled “Pregnant Women are Smug”. It makes light of the whole thing and gave me a good laugh.

Now, back to writing about my pregnancy. Mwahaha.

Little Boy,

Welcome to the end of our 21st week together! Tomorrow is my monthly doctor’s appointment, which means Daddy and I get to listen to your heartbeat again. It’s one of my favorite things to do!

This past weekend, your Grandpa came to visit. We had a really nice time, and even took some pictures to show you when you’re bigger. You’ll probably make fun of the one of me lying on the couch, annoyed that Grandpa was tying to take a picture of me with toilet paper up my nose. (I hope you never have a bloody nose. It’s gross.)

The best part about this week is that Daddy felt you kick for real! I was lying on my side and you curled up in the crook of my hip and BOP! I grabbed his hand and shoved it under my side and then…BOP, BOP, BOP!!!!

He was so happy to feel you and it gave me the warm fuzzies all day. It’s becoming more frequent now, and every time he can feel you kick it puts a big smile on his face.

You’ve become quite active, and are kicking around most of the day. You do quiet down in the car, though, which makes me think you’ll fall asleep as soon as the car starts moving. Fine by me!

This weekend your Nonni (that’s Mommy’s mommy!) is coming to visit and she can’t wait to put her hands on my belly. You were stubborn for Grandpa, but maybe you’ll give Nonni a good kick.

My letter to you this week ends with a little advice: as you get older, people will not always be nice. Sometimes they will say mean things and hurt your feelings. It happened to Mommy today — words that stung from a perfect stranger on the Internet! — and it never feels good. (Actually, I think you’re not going to be allowed to use the Internet for a very long time.) But I want you to know that no matter what people say to you in your life, you are already an incredible little boy and we love you with our whole hearts. Ignore the meanies, baby.

I love you, kicking boy!



Know what I’ve decided is one of the most annoying tasks in the world? Buying bras. Wait, let me go back a little. Buying bras isn’t usually all that bad. I tend to stick to one store where I’m always the same size and I know the style I like. So aside for the price tag, buying bras isn’t really all that annoying.

So let me rephrase: Recently, buying bras has become one of the most annoying tasks in the world.

I had to do it again yesterday, the second time during my pregnancy. The first time, I decided that since I probably would have to upgrade at least once more, and I have no idea what size I will be after baby comes, I wouldn’t go to my usual store and spend $50+ on one bra that might only be used for a month or so. I had a coupon for a department store, so I spent some time in there. It’s a little overwhelming, because within the department there were at least 10 different brands, and within each brand, at least six or seven different styles. And oh yeah, just because I was a certain size in one brand, did not mean I was that size in another.


I finally settled on two from Maidenform — a brand I had never worn before, but was comfortable, supportive, and still cute. Plus, I bought two for under $50, so I felt good about it.

They lasted for a while, until the back strap started creeping up towards my neck and the arm straps were cutting into my skin and the only thing I wanted was to NOT be wearing them.

Which worked out just fine until my neighbor came by and I had to run away from the ringing doorbell in search of a sweatshirt that would hide the high beams, if you get my drift.

So. Yesterday, I had lunch with a friend and decided to stop at Kohl’s on my way home since it was right down the street. I figured they might have Maidenform there also, and I could just upgrade the size in the same style as before.



Yeah, they had Maidenform, but it was all disorganized and there were so. many. styles. that it took forever to dig through the racks and find what I was looking for. I wanted a nude and a black — nothing fancy, just something for every day, but when I’d find what I thought to be my size in one color, I couldn’t find it in the other. And I wasn’t exactly sure of whether I needed to adjust the band size and the cup size, or just one or the other, so I needed at least four options to try on.

And since I couldn’t find them all in the style I knew I liked, I had to venture out into the abyss of other brands. Ugggghhhhh.

It was easy to eliminate the ones that felt cheap and scratchy, or the ones that had so much padding I’d be able to wipe my nose with my chest, but after that, it was a free-for-all.

And THEN, then, after finding options, I had to try them all on and the  price tags! And the  big plastic security tags! Scratching me and making it virtually impossible to really tell how things fit under a shirt.

An hour and a half later I left, with two Maidenforms (again) in a larger band AND cup size, totally burnt out and ready for a nap. Meh. (I fell asleep on the couch at 9 o’clock. I’m pretty sure this was related to the Great Bra Debacle.)

This post had no point other than to rant, but can I also just say that the bigger bras get, the less cute they become? I was unaware how many hooks there are on bras of a certain size.

A lot. The answer is a lot.

The day I found out I was pregnant:

vs. the belly at the halfway point, 20 weeks:

(Yeah, I had to rotate the photo. Things like which direction I was facing in the beginning tend to slip my mind. Oops!)

Whoa. That’s my stomach?

Happy weekend!

I’m a little behind, as today is actually the beginning of my 21st week of pregnancy. Which means I’ve officially passed the halfway mark.

I’ve spent the last few weekly updates gushing, so this week I thought I’d share with you the stranger side of pregnancy. Pregnancy, I’ve discovered, is sometimes like one big science experiment. I go to bed each night wondering what tomorrow will bring, and wake up to things I’ve never experienced before.

Like this week:

Baby hiccups. I felt them for the first time last night and it actually made me laugh out loud all alone in my quiet house. He was right under my rib cage and it felt like what I imagine the heart of a small animal to feel like after it’s run away from a predator. It lasted a minute or so, and then he must have moved so I didn’t feel it anymore. But it was such a strange feeling!

Bra size. Well, hello, ladies. I always knew this would happen, as it’s such a normal part of pregnancy, but I guess I just didn’t expect for it to happen as quickly as it did. My band size has gone from a 34 to a 38 and I’m hoping that maybe, just maybe, the growth will taper off a little. Am I just kidding myself?

Gas. Look, I’m being honest here, OK? Pregnancy gas is like none other I’ve ever experienced. And it’s not like normal gas that you can demurely hold in, then shuffle off discreetly to release. No, pregnancy gas is a monster that will attack you without warning, and leave your husband clambering away from you as fast as possible in search of fresh air.

It doesn’t really seem to be related to what I eat, because be it beans or a cracker, the results are the same. The results are gross. I’m so sorry, friends and family.

Unwanted attention. I’ve actually really enjoyed the recent attention the bump as brought on, because it assures me that I actually look pregnant and that’s fun. However, yesterday I experienced what I had only heard of up to that point: an unwanted touch.

I was at the grocery store and the cashier, a woman about my mom’s age, commented “What a cute bump!” I thanked her and we chit chatted as I unloaded my cart. And then, just as I was standing up straight from picking up the chicken…there she was. Patting my stomach. Just reached right over the conveyor and patted me.

It happened so quickly and then she went back to talking, so I didn’t have time to process what had happened. It was weird — I know she meant well and was just excited for me, but…I don’t know her. She’s not even a regular cashier and see and chat with often. It just felt like an invasion of personal space.

Maybe I’ll start walking up to strangers and patting their bellies. What do you think?

– I have a severe case of Pregnancy Brain. Yesterday, I spent the entire day with deodorant on only one armpit. I make a list for the grocery store, then come home with things I didn’t need, and forget things that were on the list. I forget what I needed in the kitchen after walking the five feet from the living room. I find myself stopping mid-sentence to try and regain my stream of thought. I stood in front of the barista at Starbucks with my mouth open like a fish while she waited patiently for my brain to catch up with my voice and order a drink.

I read in some pregnancy book that you should say things out loud to remember them. “I’m putting my keys by the door!”, “I’m going to buy milk!”

I don’t know if this would work for me. And I don’t think the barista would appreciate me shouting “I’m going to drink this chai!” at her.

– I registered at Babies R Us. Have you ever  been in a Babies R Us? It was one of the most overwhelming places I’ve stepped foot in, and if it wasn’t for my good friend who is also a new mommy, I probably would have wandered around, sat in the gliders, and left in search of chocolate. Luckily, she helped guide me and I managed to make a registry full of some good stuff (I think). (I hope). I still have some items to add, but I can do that mostly online now and am glad I got the big stuff out of the way.

– We decided to try and sell our house. Clearly, we are insane. Michael has spent the last 12 hours painting our master bedroom, which was an unfortunate shade of school bus yellow. Even the ceiling. And the back of the door. And the window. It was like the blue bathroom all over again.

Except this time, I’m not painting, because the wee one would not like the fumes very much. So I’ve been trying to clean ever nook and cranny of the rest of the house so it will be presentable to show. It’s amazing the kind of stuff you live with and don’t notice, but a potential buyer would zoom right in on. I know this because I’ve zoomed right in on them in the houses we’ve looked at. My next task is cleaning out my big closet, which is something I’ve been putting off for ages. Meeeeeehhhh.

– I have some events coming up that require dressing up a little. Nothing too formal, but definitely a dress. I attempted to try on some pre-pregnancy dresses in my closet, but the results were laughable. I didn’t want to spend a fortune on a new one, because I’m finding maternity clothes really aren’t worth a ton of money. For the amount of time you really need them (in my case, I only just started to really need maternity tops), I just don’t see the point in spending a lot. Except for pants. My maternity jeans were the best investment I’ve made since the pregnancy test!

I stopped in Target after Babies R Us and was pleasantly surprised to find this dress:

It fist so nicely and will carry me through the events I have coming up. Wee! (Is it me, or does this woman not even look pregnant?)

– Easter candy is out. Which means Cadbury Mini Eggs are out.


Happy Valentine’s Day!

May all your days be filled with love.


Ask me anything!

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Alltop, all the cool kids (and me)