The Magic Belly

When I was on my mission Dad’s job had him traveling a lot. I often received letters that were written while he was waiting in various airports or delayed on a tarmac somewhere. After the mission and college when I started traveling for my job it became a bonding point for us both. Even now I feel like Dad’s the only one I can truly talk to who understands the ins and outs of business travel. It’s a funny juxtaposition now that I’ve recently made Platinum status on American Airlines and he’s now the missionary. He’s slogging it out in the mission field while I have people “powdering my butt” as he used to say. On my flight today from Dallas to Boston I had a lovely lunch which began with hot towels and warm nuts. The salad was good and I had to choose between the BBQ sandwich or the pizza. I declined the wine of course but warm cookies were on their way to make up for it. My glass of water (note: GLASS, not plastic cup) was not less than half empty the whole flight. They called me Ms. Wuehler… and they made sure to pronounce it right.

I have to tell you there is a certain power in being pregnant when it comes to travel. You may have noticed that before they board a flight there’s a small group of well-heeled men standing near the gate. They try to look surreptitious but they watch that gate like Ed McMahon is about to come out any minute and declare them the winner of Publisher’s Clearinghouse Sweepstakes. There’s a reason for this you see, every one of those business men has a laptop bag and rollerboard. Although First Class has many amenities, there is simply not much room in the overhead compartment, especially if EVERYONE has a rollerboard which pretty much everyone does. Much of the space is taken up by FAA required first aid and emergency supplies. So it’s a dog eat dog world there in First Class.

I sat back and watched them; thoroughly entertained by the way they try to edge up on one another. Clearly they're competitive people who are used to mapping out strategies for success. To put it plainly, they’re used to winning. Just before the announcement is made to board, I headed over to the group and soundly destroy their plans to race onto the jet bridge first. Who is going to be the jerk who tries to shove past the pregnant lady? That’s right, no one. The cost of doing so would be to have everyone stare you down for being utterly uncouth. They all must give me deference and it is I who makes it onto the plane first. Even the guy who eyes my belly as if he’s thinking, “She looks healthy enough, I could get ahead of her” ends up standing aside. If I choose to waddle a little slower, they must wait. In this scenario, it is I alone who sets the pace.

Once on board it doesn’t stop there because who’s going to be the jerk who makes the pregnant lady put her rollerboard into the overhead compartment? Again, they must bow to me. It’s women and children first and at the moment, I cover BOTH those categories. I trump their every advantage. They may be CEO's or high-powered salesman, but I am expecting which is something they will never have. Perhaps it’s not breaking the glass ceiling, but it is domination, even if only for the duration of a flight. Veni, Vidi, Vici.

Happy New Year

I've come to realize that when a lot of women say they just want to be a wife and mother, it sounds a lot simpler than it really is. That's the case with me anyway. Yesterday I ended up in the hospital with a nasty bug. Even though it wasn't all that serious, the doctor on call wanted me to come in just to make sure I wasn't going into preterm labor.

We got to bypass the emergency room and go straight to labor and delivery. I was told they're actually terrified of pregnant women in the emergency room. They asked Brent to wait outside while I changed into the paper-thin gown. While he waited, the nurse asked me about domestic abuse. I know this is standard but it caught me off guard. I almost blurted out, "Did you SEE him?" My sweet blond-haired, blue-eyed doll of a husband? Anyhoo, I gave her a negative response along with the questions about STD's and drug use. Ahhhh I love being a Mormon.

They hooked me up to a baby monitor and hearing my girl made me feel so much better. At one point the nurse stopped mid-sentence and said, "Someone's playing with their umbilical cord." That's one I haven't heard before. "She is?" The nurse told us she was squeezing it and then she scratched my belly to distract her and get her to stop. At that point our girl started kicking and the nurse smiled at us and said she was getting her back.

Just for good measure they took a urine sample and found I was dehydrated. The doctor showed me the little print out and pointed at one line in particular. "See that? That's a measure of your ketones... there should be no pluses." Yeah... I had four of them. Soooo I had no choice but to get an IV.

I have a fear of needles. Not pain, NEEDLES. So when someone says something like, "This one doesn't hurt" I kind of want to tear my own arm off just so I have something to throw at them. I thought shots and blood draws were bad but an IV is infinitely worse because you have to have it in for much longer. She tried my left side but apparently when I'm dehydrated I have jumpy veins and she had to take it out and try my right side. Stupid vein. I did two liters of liquids but the second one wasn't going as quickly so they pumped it into me. Not fun. It hurt all the way down the vein into my elbow and made my whole arm cold. After all that, they found there was no change. Since I was doing so much better symptomatically they let me go home with a directive to drink half/half Gatorade and water and start solids when I felt I was ready.

Remember my sweet blond-haired, blue-eyed doll of a husband? Rather than watching the Rose Bowl he sat by the hospital bed (I use this term loosely, that thing was about as comfortable as a Pilate's table), he stroked my hair and massaged my back. He told me stories to make the time pass and ran to find a nurse whenever I needed something. When we got home he unloaded the car while I soaked in a hot tub to loosen up my back and he did laundry while I blissfully floated off to sleep in our bed.

So like I said, I didn't really think all about what being a wife and mother would entail. In some ways it's hard but in others it's so very, very wonderful.

Bad Food I Love to Eat

I ran into CVS to grab some water before work this morning. The water at work tastes like it was stored in a rusty metal drum so I make it a habit to pick up some snooty Evian. I made a bee line straight for the refrigerated drinks when I saw them there in their cellophane packaging-- Combos. I can't adequately explain why I love them like I do. The cheese on the inside doesn't look anything close to natural and the outer shell is petrified. Even so, I found myself picking up the bag and snacking on them all afternoon while my banana sat on my desk. I like to chew off as much of the exterior as I can and then with the last bite have the delicious cheesy center. I had to tear the bag away from myself. What's wrong with me? Then I started to think of the other disgusting foods I love to eat. Keep in mind I don't eat them ALL the time but when I run across them I'm overjoyed. Soooo, for the 3 people who read my blog, here is my list:

• Banana-flavored hard candies: Remember how I mentioned my banana sat on my desk while I chowed on Combos? I don't like bananas because they make my tongue itch but in a strange twist of fate I LOVE the fake banana taste. My very favorite are Runts. If I could get a package of Runts that just has banana and oranges I'd be set. There's a sort of taffy that has a banana flavor I love but I rarely run into them.



• Corn dogs: something tells me the CORN in the corn part isn't really authentic. It might be made of feed grain. Still, corn dogs are on a stick, you get to dip it and there's such a wonderful surprise in the middle. Of course, that "surprise" is probably made of pig's feet and goat lips but it's sooooo yummy.

• Cheetos: I believe Cheetos are like porn. They aren't good for you. They don't even begin to LOOK like they're good for you but they're ubiquitous. Everyone's had some! There's got to be a conspiracy. Kids try to logon to the White House website and hello, porn. I go to the vending machine for some low-fat Jr Mints and hello, Cheetos. You bite into them and they magically turn to dust in your mouth so you're eating mushy whatever-it's-really-made-of by the time you swallow. I usually have a bag of Cheetos once or twice a year but I find myself licking the orange "cheese" off my fingers at the end of it.
  
  
• KFC: Despite the fact I only order the extra crispy, the chicken is slathered in oil which makes it easy to go down. I don't think the mashed potatoes come from Idaho. The corn has a funny taste. Yet once a year (usually on the 4th of July when I wish I had some BBQ food) I find myself frequenting this establishment.

Okay 3 people who read my blog, what are your food guilty pleasures? BTW- I'm totally not offended very few people are fascinated with my own rambling thoughts and read this blog. I barely have time to write entries much less check in on my own friends and family who blog. I primarily write this blog as a record, not as entertainment. Still, I greatly appreciate you 3 people who so faithfully check in with me.

Nawlins

Recently I had a business trip to New Orleans. I've traveled to the south quite a few times for work to Atlanta, Oklahoma City and Jackson so I thought I knew what to expect. I have to admit New Orleans handed me a few surprises. Sooooo, my Top 10 Most Surprising Things About NOLA (as the locals call it) are:

10. All the residual damage from Katrina... even after all this time.

9. Hearing the word "Katrina" spoken with such disdain. Katrina is also the name of my sister and it took me a little while to get they weren't all ticked at HER.

8. All the sushi restaurants and I didn't see ONE Asian while I was there!

7. The GINORMOUS mansions and how many of them there were. I could have looked at those for days and they were all different types of architecture: French, Colonial, Spanish, it was absolute eye candy.

6. The drive-thru daquiri places. My colleague said it's not illegal to have a daquiri in your car as long as there isn't a straw in it?

5. I never ONCE saw a chain store like Gap, Old Navy, even a Dillards or Macy's. We weren't able to go out and explore TOO much so they're probably there and I just didn't see them. Still, that was impressive.

4. The bridge named after an infamously corrupt politician. I have to admit I never finished reading All The Kings Men but from what I understand Huey Long wasn't exactly a saint...

3. All the Mardi Gras beads stuck in the trees and telephone poles. My colleague told me no one takes them down so they're up year 'round.

2. I braced myself for the thick accents I heard in Mississippi, Georgia and Oklahoma. Not so much... Those that had accents actually sounded like they were from Long Island. Weird.

1. It's DECEMBER and it was 81 all three days we were there! We left an ice storm in Boston!

Coming home was bittersweat. On the one hand there is nothing like sleeping in your OWN bed. Still, on the other hand it meant getting back to the office grind in the cold and dreary weather. This morning I was grousing to Brent about how I had so much stuff to do at home and not nearly enough time. Our weekend is completely booked and I feel the need to schedule in some time for sanity before Christmas arrives.

It's almost as if the Lord heard my prayer... okay my WHINE. After completing the absolute essential items on my To Do list at work we received a company wide announcement that the city of Boston had declared a snow emergency and we were shutting down for the afternoon. I was reminded of my childhood when we'd find out school was cancelled for snow. It's almost as if the Lord wanted everyone to slow down so he slowly blanketed the city with heaven's down--big, fluffy flakes of beautiful snow. Ahhhhh, life is beautiful.

Check Up

I had my monthly check up with my OB-GYN this morning. Lately before the doctor comes in they've been sending med students. For the most part, these girls have been nice but I'm always tempted to say something like, "My pee has turned blue and there's a voice in my head telling me to find Xanadu on a wooden horse... but that's normal, right?" Then she'd run for my doctor and I wouldn't have to repeat everything I've just told the med student to my doctor once she arrives. One other thing, the med students seem to have a hard time finding the heartbeat which scares the snot out of me. Before placing the sonogram monitor thingy on me the med student asked me if I knew where the baby was positioned. Either that was a weird question or I'm a really bad mother... it's a toss up. I'm pretty sure she covered my entire belly looking for it and there was a moment when I swear she said, "Did you hear that? Kind of like a horse? That was it." Okay, I've heard my girl's heartbeat before but it's NEVER sounded like a horse. I again contemplated making the blue pee comment.

My doctor and I caught up and she mentioned that I needed to get a flu shot. Oi... I'm not so good with needles and being pregnant has been a "challenge" for me in that regard. It's been made even more "challenging" based on the fact that those who have drawn my blood were the most uncaring, unsympathetic people found on God's green earth. Maybe they all worked for Leona Helmsly at one point or perhaps they've all had a lobotomy. One lady gave me a bruise 3 inches long and another dude went right through my vein and had me screaming in pain. At least that bruise wasn't quite so big. I found my salvation in Luz: she was SO fast and SO kind. I literally jumped up and hugged her I was so happy. But I digress...

My doctor was giving me a hard time about this flu shot and she deflected every excuse I threw at her like teflon.

"Yeah, you guys are out of the kind that doesn't have any murcury soooo, I can't get that."

"No no! We got a shipment that don't have the murcury."

"Ahhhh, wait a minute! I got one the last time I was here! Yes! I DISTINCLY remember getting a flue shot last month."

"Are you pulling my chain?" she says as she looks through my chart. Stupid chart.

"The last one I got actually GAVE me the flu so isn't that more dangerous than chancing it with a case of the flu?" Okay, that last flu shot was 8 years ago in the MTC and I kid you not, I seriously considered not serving a mission just because of it. Then I got the flu which made the whole experience that much more futile.

"Well, considering how much you travel this is a precaution I strongly recommend you take."

Brent was absolutely no help... traitor. The med student watched all this like someone watching a tennis match. She was silent and her head ping ponged between us. Unfortunately Luz couldn't give it to me which was yet another blow. My doctor asked me to wait in the doorway of the examining room while she ran down the hall to the nurse's office. I'm sure she said something like, "Code Red... this one's really psycho so have the straitjacket on hand." So my arm is a little sore and I'm feeling a little picked on.

When I stepped out of the subway the violinist was there again and this time she was playing Chardis. Last time she was there she was playing Ashokan Farewell. All my sisters know these pieces well and now I'm wondering if this subway violinist is a graduate of Mrs. Wiebner's City High School orchestra class.

Cramps & Carter's Clothing

I experienced my first leg cramps the other night. I must have rolled over onto my back and my girl must have crushed some important artery because suddenly I was bolt upright in excruciating pain. I've never had a leg cramp. A Charlie Horse, sure (why do they call them that anyway?) but not a leg cramp. It felt like the muscle in my leg had become a stubborn rubber band which snapped back and tightened. In my pain I woke Brent up and he tried to massage it out which hurt even more. Finally I realized my foot was pointed and I slowly pulled back my toes which seemed to release the cramp. It was still sore the next day but man oh man am I glad it's over. Glad to know Brent's got my back in a situation like that too :)

Over the Thanksgiving weekend we went to New Jersey and on Saturday decided to head to the mall. I am squarely against going shopping at 4AM the day after Thanksgiving. After stuffing myself with stuffing and tryptophan or whatever it is that makes you drunk on bird, I just want to relax and sleep in. Then I like to have leftovers for brunch, lunch and dinner. Anyhoo, on Saturday Mom and Dad were blissfully obligation free so we headed to the mall when the super shoppers would be gone, having done everything Friday morning.

Mom and I spotted a Carter's store and directed Dad over to it. As he parked he sang out, "Staying!" which is his way of saying he'd rather sit in a cold car and people watch than check out the baby stuff. Brent, Mom and I headed in and saw one adorable thing after another and blessing of blessings, all on SALE. There was an adorable pink, plaid jumper but the smallest was a 2T. Brent expressed his concern about buying clothes for a 2 year old and I turned to him and said, "Honey, we have to think ahead. This is the 401(K) of children's clothing." A nearby sales associate laughed.

Mom had Brent occupied and I swiftly walked over to the register. I leaned over to the cashier and said, "I need you to ring these up as quickly as you can before my husband comes over here." She nodded and fast as lightning started scanning madly. Brent wandered over at which point I gestured towards a display in the far corner. "Honey, what ARE those? Are they washcloths? Toys? Go check them out." By now Mom caught the hint and escorted him over. My cashier whispered the total and I thanked her profusely as I scribbled my signature. "I understand" she said, "I'm married too."

Flying High

I'd like to do a shout out to the toilets at the Chicago O'Hare airport. They are among the reasons O'Hare is one of my favorite airports. They have a plastic sleeve that goes around the toilet seat and when you go into the stall you just wave your hand and voila! New plastic for your bootie. I hate to admit I've never actually figured out the paper ones that tend to be hung on the back wall. Are you supposed to tear out the middle part? Throw them away when you're done? Flush them? Too many questions. Oh, and the stalls at O'Hare have long doors so you don't worry about hanging your bag and having someone reach over while you're doing your business and steal all your precious things. The stalls are practically little rooms! Like the toilets in France. Okay, I've never actually been to France but that's what I've heard. There's almost always someone in there cleaning and cleanliness is next to godliness. I'll actually hold it until I reach O'Hare because I love their toilets.

O'Hare is home to my favorite airport fare: the chocolate banana smoothie. Usually trying to find something healthy to eat in a terminal is about as likely as finding you left $1000 in your winter coat last year. You might find a limp salad from a Chili's To Go, and you might find a $20 you forgot about in your coat but not the jackpot. You can also find Chicago style hot dogs which I happen to love. Piled high with slices of tomato and a slice of pickle along with the ketchup, mustard, relish and onions it's like a party in my mouth.

The terminals at O'Hare just make you FEEL like you're in an international airport with the high, curved ceilings and it just so happens they were beginning to put up their holiday decorations. Finally, I guess I love O'Hare because it was more likely than not the last stop before I landed in the heart of the heartland and I was home. Oh the anticipation, I still feel it whenever I step off the plane there! I've heard many people say they avoid O'Hare like the plague but me, I guess I'm lucky because I haven't had a horrible time with delays there. I'm also just a sentimental girl.

Get Your Kicks

I have decided this blog will basically be a retrospective. When something exciting, noteworthy or otherwise anecdotal happens I simply can't find the time to sit down and blog about it. It's always an afterthought. I guess I'd make a horrible journalist.

The other day I'd gotten Brent safely to the subway station and went back home to lie in our warm and comfy bed for juuuuuuuust a little longer. I wasn't really thinking about much when I felt it. A tiny kick in my lower abdomen. Then I felt it again and I was even more sure this was our girl reminding me she was there. I was 20 weeks and starting to feel like a failure because I hadn't felt any kicking but there it was... or should I say there SHE was? I cringed a bit as I called Brent knowing he had a busier than busy day to get through but even over the phone I could sense his excitement as well. When I apologized for bothering him he firmly told me that no, this was important.

The New Testament often talks of how Mary wondered, pondered, marvelled and kept so many thing in her heart regarding her son, Jesus Christ. Although not the mother of the Savior of mankind, I felt a bit of kinship with her at that moment. Maybe my baby did too :)

It's a GIRL!!!

I woke up this morning feeling like it was Christmas. Perhaps it was daylight savings or perhaps it was the anticipation but I couldn't sleep after 5:00 AM. I cuddled with my love and thought about how today was THE day. Today I'd find out if we were having a boy or a girl! Work was pointless and when we were at long last there with the ultrasound tech we gave her our instructions. If it was a boy we were going out for Thai at a restaurant called King and I. If it was a girl we were getting some food from a French delicatessen called Au Bon Pain. So we didn't want to know if we were having a boy or girl, we just wanted a restaurant recommendation. Our tech loved the idea.

I've heard many stories about how the position of the baby can make it impossible to determine the sex. Our little tadpole couldn't have been more obliging. Folded in half, we had a clear shot of the legs, the butt (SUCH a cute butt!!! Must be Brent's genes...) and all the space between. "I'd suggest going to Au Bon Pain for dinner tonight" the tech told us. Brent was beaming and I was thrilled.

There have been many times in my life when I've been happy but this is just... different. I thought I was blown away by the first sonogram. Then the first ultrasound. Now this. It just gets better and better. As I related all this to one of my coworkers he said, "And if you can imagine, it gets even BETTER!"

Cardinal Sin

I confess I did it; I cut my hair. Not a trim but 8 inches to be exact. In spite of everyone's advice that you never, ever, EVER, under pain of death, cut your hair while pregnant. There's great logic behind that reasoning. I'm gaining weight by the nanosecond, my hormones are all over the place and this is not a time for drastic action.

I'm such a rebel :) I also cut the tags off my mattress and go swimming right after I've eaten. I went into the salon and the stylist took one look at my waist-length hair and immediately said, "Just a trim then?" "Nope, we're chopping it off." She stopped mid-stride and eyed my long, long hair again. I pulled out the photo. Now that I'm going to be a mom, I need a supermom haircut. After months of searching and weighing my options I finally found it when I saw Julia Stiles in The Bourne Ultimatum. THAT was what I wanted. When I sat down in the chair I told the stylist it's a truth universally acknowledged that a pregnant woman in possession of long hair must be made to keep it long. I needed her to make this haircut look like it was the best decision of my life. She smiled wryly and we were off to shampoo. Minutes later as she combed through my dripping hair, parted it and pulled out the scissors she commented how calm I was.

The chatty salon went silent as my tendrils fell in long, curly heaps on the floor. Everyone watched. Even other stylists with clients stopped clipping and hair drying to watch. About half-way through, my stylist commented that she'd always wanted to do this with her own hair but was too scared. Yes yes, I was courageously cutting my coif off. When the last long piece tumbled to the floor I felt like William Wallace in the movie Braveheart stretched, disemboweled and about to be decapitated. FREEEEEEEDOMMMMM!!! Unwittingly, she had chopped off years of loneliness, heartbreak, fear, uncertainty, despair, unfulfilled dreams. All that was past had suddenly disappeared and you could see my face so much more clearly. No more hiding behind a curtain of hair, this was me.

With my supermom haircut and my expanding belly I see nothing but the future ahead of me. It sounds silly, but I could see a good mom looking back at me in the mirror. One that just might be an amazing influence on her child. And if that didn't work out, I could always help amnesiac rogue assassins expose corruption in the government bureaucracy. A happy second option :)