second trimester – Paige is Parenting

The return of working mom guilt

This past Wednesday, Jameson got hurt at school. He was running towards the slide, slipped, and rammed headfirst into it. This resulted in a seriously big bump that required me to leave work and take him to his pediatrician to get looked at.

The entire drive to his daycare had my mind reeling with how bad it might be. When the director called me that morning she had told me to “prepare myself” for how bad it looked, even though he was running around again and seemed to be doing fine.

Needless to say I was not doing fine as I pictured how horrific his head might look.

To try and calm my nerves I called my mom…which turned out to be the opposite of a good idea, as she went over the many reasons why she thinks our daycare sucks and we should pull him out of there.

Thankfully, when I got there he was in good spirits. The bump was large, no doubt about it, but still better than what I had been picturing in my mind after the daycare call.

All smiles for mama when I picked him up early for a doctor visit

Even with the relief of seeing that he wasn’t as injured as I had imagined and hearing from his doctor that he didn’t have a concussion, I still felt terrible.

My child got hurt again at daycare. My child got hurt while being in the care of someone else. This wouldn’t have happened if I was home with him, the guilty voice in my head scolded. I should have been there.

Never mind that toddlers trip all the time. Never mind that my son has fallen, tripped, and somersaulted over apparent thin air while in my care. He had never gotten a bump like that, and for that I was racked with guilt.

So what did I do to quell said guilt? Talk to another mom about it to make myself feel better? Journal about it even? Heck no.

I did the stereotypical working mom penance of ice cream and material objects.

One scoop of vanilla ice cream with a mountain of sprinkles and whipped cream at eleven in the morning? Coming right up!

Not one, but two new Halloween books from Barnes and Noble? Sure, you deserve it!

And why don’t we throw in a ten dollar realistic elephant toy since you’ve recently learned the word elephant and it will make mama feel better for having abandoned you at your very pricy daycare all day?

Picking out one of his new books at Barnes and Noble

Now here was my injured but happy as a clam child, thumbing through the pages of his new pop-up book with a belly full of sugar.

And there I was on the other side of the camera, feeling guilty still but placated by the fact that there was a smile back on my child’s face.

D came home later that evening and shook his head at the impulse buys I had made.

“He didn’t need any of this stuff, honey,” he said.

“Maybe not,” I replied. But I needed it.

The myth of balance as a working mother

In a perfect world, each twenty-four hour day would magically fit in all of the things crammed onto my to-do list.

The laundry pile (aka my Everest) would never reach peaks that make my husband give me a sideways glance while casually mentioning that there sure are a lot of unfolded baskets of clothes in the living room.

The floors would be spotless, the toys put away, and the only dishes in the sink would be the ones from tonight’s homecooked meal.

But alas, this is the real world and it can be a total sh*t-show.

My son encapsulating the “lovable hot mess” vibe that his mama does as well

When I get out of work, assuming I don’t have to grocery shop or run some other errand, I have approximately one hour before Jameson needs to be picked up from daycare.

This leaves just enough time to cook something quick (if D is not home and cooking already) or try and tidy up a bit, OR try and tackle the laundry pile.

The hour flies by.

Then Jameson is home and it’s family dinner time, bath time, and chill time with him. Getting any type of housework done while he is awake after school is pretty much a no-go, as he is super cuddly and wanting all of my attention.

I’ve tried folding laundry while sitting next to him and it always ends up with him playing a game of knocking over the folded laundry pile.

It used to be that he would fall asleep at 7 and then I’d go workout or do some housework or work work, but those days are gone too. He doesn’t get tired until 8 now and by then I am also exhausted and ready for bed.

And have I mentioned I’m pregnant? Pregnant and tired? Well I am both of those thing to the degree of very.

Anyway, this rant about finding time to do everything I want to do during the work week is brought to you by decaf coffee and interrupted sleep due to pregnancy bladder.

Now back to our regular scheduled programming.

Dining out with a two year-old

It’s starting to feel like Autumn here in Connecticut and we wasted no time doing some of the most basic Fall things you can do: hitting up the Farmer’s Market and going out for cider donuts.

Jameson’s love for apples has returned just in time for apple picking season. Truly his mother’s child.

D and I took Jameson to our local Farmer’s Market this Saturday and it amazed me at how mature he has grown in these few months.

Our first trip to the market was probably sometime in the beginning of the summer and consisted of D shopping for fresh produce and baked goods, and me chasing after Jameson as he weaved in and out of the seller stalls. An Instagram worthy trip it was not.

Cut to this weekend and our little man was in it to win it. He stood my my side the whole time, named the different kinds of fruits and vegetables with me, and happily chomped on an apple that he picked out with enthusiasm.

Earlier in the morning we went to a local diner for an early bird breakfast after dropping D’s car off at the shop. Which brings me to our title topic: dining with a two year-old.

With a big boy fork and a straw full of juice, who could be happier?

Here too I have seen how Jameson is growing up and into the person he’s going to be.

You see, Jameson loves food but hates standing still. Especially if we are somewhere new like, oh, a restaurant. He thinks its silly to sit and wait for our meal when there are perfectly good nooks and crannies to be explored. Like the giant gumball machine filled with what he assumes to be brightly colored bouncy balls. Or the table of toddlers sitting right behind us who are probably just waiting for a friend like Jameson to walk over and make their acquaintance.

That is where my tradition of bringing a “busy bag” has come in clutch.

Feeling proud of himself for matching the square to the square. He did this puzzle about five times. Note to self: buy more puzzles.

I don’t remember when I first heard of the idea of a busy bag for toddlers in restaurants, but it has been a heaven sent more times than I can count. I’m sure it was probably the result of scrolling on Pinterest one sleep-deprived newborn night.

Either way, it helps D and I stick to our rule of no technology at the table. There is nothing we hate more than seeing a kid sitting at a restaurant with their parents, playing on an iPad the whole meal. It’s even worse when the parents are also zoned out on their phone.

Let’s be real for a moment. Tech addiction is a serious thing these days and most of us are addicted to some degree. It can take some planning and commitment to rein it in and focus on the present moment.

In our house this looks like time limits on television, no iPads for kids, and a self-imposed time limit on my own social media accounts to remind myself to unplug. There’s actually a section on iPhones to set this limit, which is helpful.

But back to our busy bags. They usually work out great in keeping Jameson occupied while waiting for his meal. Of course this time in particular I had recently dumped out his busy bag with the intention of refilling it with new items…and completely forgot to refill it.

What was left when inside when I opened it up in the diner? One shapes puzzle and a hot wheels car. Oh man.

I could feel my heart pick up it’s pace as he finished his puzzle for the third time and pushed it to the side.

“Wow, you did!” I exclaimed, a little too excitedly as I eyed our waitress who was busy with another table. Damn.

“You want to try it again?” I asked. My husband shook his head and handed Jameson a hot wheels car instead.

The joy of playing with that lasted about three minutes and then he was trying to stand up in his high chair.

“No no, Jamie. We’re waiting for our meal,” D said.

Jameson sat down with a dramatic cry that had some of the other patrons giving us the side eye.

Trust me guys, you ain’t seen nothin’ yet. That was just his warmup cry, I thought to myself.

We went back and forth with this borderline meltdown dance for what felt like an hour but was probably closer to ten minutes, before our breakfast landed on the table.

“A bite of the cider donut before breakfast? My parents must really be scrambling here.”

Jameson happily dug into his feast of silver dollar pancakes and strawberries while I pretended my egg white omelet was just as good. It wasn’t, guys. Nothing is as good as syrupy pancakes. But alas, I’m trying to make sure my pregnancy weight gain stays on the healthy track *sigh*.

My two year-old looking like a five year-old somehow. How??

It was a close one, but we managed to have a somewhat relaxing breakfast in public, with a toddler. And no tech.

Just remind me to refill the busy bag next time.

“Why care?” Dealing with volunteering burnout

“Why do you do it if it brings you this much stress? It doesn’t seem like you enjoy it very much.”- A very valid question asked by my husband last night.

Last night I went on a bit of a venting spree to my husband about the state of the volunteer organization that I’m a part of. Specifically, how uninterested so many of our members have become and how hard it is to get people to sign up for events to help out in the community.

This is the third month in a row that I’ve organized a day to prepare a meal for women living in emergency shelters. And it is the second time in three months that we haven’t been able to fill the measly five spots required for volunteers.

I was complaining to my husband that nobody seems to care anymore. That people say they are excited to give back to the community, but when it’s time to show up, its just a few who are left to do double or triple the work when no one else shows up.

To be honest, I’m exhausted. And six months pregnant. And dealing with a number of other things in life that have been requiring a lot of my attention lately.

And to continue being honest, let’s be real: sometimes caring is exhausting.

But I’m starting to think that maybe it’s the way I care that’s the most draining. Maybe I care too much about the outcome. Or maybe I’m letting my passion for a cause cloud over the fact that my time and energy for said cause aren’t as robust as they were last season.

When my husband asked me why I’m still doing it when it doesn’t seem to be bringing me joy, it made me realize that he’s right. Well, partially (sorry, honey).

Helping out in my community brings me immense joy. But helping out at the same intensity that I was last year isn’t anymore. And there is the disconnect.

So I’m going to take some time and figure out how I want to use my free time in the season I’m in right now. More family time before the baby gets here is high on my list. As is editing my novel and setting up things at my job before I go on maternity leave.

I want volunteering to still be a part of my life in the coming months, but I want to do it the way I began doing it, and that is with an open heart.

Have you ever dealt with feelings of burnout as a volunteer? How did you handle it?

Pregnancy Week 27: reality setting in

Next week I will be stepping into the third trimester of this pregnancy and the reality of 1) the due date being just around the corner and 2) things in the world being crazy bananas at the moment is sinking in.

As of now, the May baby shower is still a solid “maybe,” but each passing week makes it seem less and less likely to happen. Since I definitely don’t want to do a virtual baby shower (I am way to awkward to have 40+ people watching just me from their cameras at home), this means that the only other option would be to cancel it all together if COVID-19 concerns and/or shut-downs are still going on in the beginning of May.

Being that this is my first pregnancy, it sucks knowing that I am missing out on this first pregnancy moment even though I know that safety comes first. It also means that D and I will most likely being buying more things for the baby than we had originally planned, since there isn’t a non-tacky way to say “hey, the shower is canceled but feel free to hit up our registry!” lol.

This week I Facetimed with my mom and ended up crying to D after I hung up with her. Because of social distancing, and the fact that my sister and Dad are both living with her and working in jobs that could potentially expose them to the virus, I haven’t seen her (or any of my immediate family) in over a month now.

During our call I showed her my belly and she teared up over not being able to see me and watch my belly grow during my first pregnancy. It made me realize that she was missing out on witnessing something she had been wishing for me for years. It made me realize that I miss my mom and the support of my family during this great big moment in my life.

Even though we talk on the phone every day. Even though we’ll be video chatting more often to fill in the gap of physical distance. It still isn’t the same and it makes me sad.

Other pregnancy-related things that have changed during this time: 1) our tour of the birthing center has been turned into a phone call (better than being canceled all together, so I’ll take it) and 2) as of now, only partners are allowed in the delivery room, meaning my sister won’t be able to be there with me and D as a support. I’m way more bummed about this one and hoping circumstances will change for the better before baby’a arrival date.

I had intended for this post to be more of a summary of week 27 of my pregnancy than a COVID-19 rant but…here we are, lol. Ah well.

**I’ve decided to skip the “lowlights” portion of this week because I think my post was chalk-full of that already. Post-venting, I’d now like to focus on the bright side and leave off on a high note for this week.**

Highlights:

•My bored chef (aka D) making us delicious, extravagant home-cooked meals during our weekend home together.

•Ordering myself a maternity box from Stitchfix as a way to cheer myself up and get ready for spring. It should be arriving in the next couple of weeks! Pictured below, one of the many black and white maternity shirts I currently own. I’m ready for some bright colors for spring!

• We did a 4D ultrasound the other weekend! We got in right in time too, because it was the final day before non-essential businesses had to close all in-person services. I’ll share more pics and details in a later post! Check out that cute face of his!!

See you next week, in the third trimester!

Pregnancy Week 26: social distancing

What a whacky, scary time to be pregnant.

Basically everyone in the world is practicing social distancing and self-quarantining because of COVID-19 aka the Coronavirus.

(Almost) Everything is Closed

Nonessential stores have been closed and restaurants have had to either adapt to offering takeaway and delivery services, or take the risk of being fully closed for an unknown period of time.

All across the maternity chat boards that I follow, pregnant women are facing the real fear of contracting the virus while pregnant.

New + Unknown = Scary

The CDC is currently stating that pregnant women don’t seem to be at an increased risk of complications from the virus, compared to the general population (which is a relief).

But there’s also the fear of the unknown still lingering. As of now, newborns don’t seem to be suffering any marked complications from their mother contracting the virus while pregnant, but I still wonder if there might be something that pops up in these babies as they grow that we just aren’t seeing.

Hopefully not. Hopefully this really is similar to the flu, in that most babies are born free of any complications or defects from it. For now, it seems like time will tell and I’m having my first serious bout of mom-anxiety from it.

A Bad Time for Baby Showers

On a less serious note, a consequence of the virus and the calls for social distancing/quarantining is that large gatherings like baby showers are being canceled left and right.

There are more questions than I can count on the chat boards from moms-to-be who are fretting over whether or not to cancel their showers. Some have already called theirs off, while others are still holding out for hope that mid-April might bring an end to social distancing.

My cousin-in-law has made the call to cancel her April 5th shower because of virus worries, and instead hold a “meet the baby” party a few months after her baby is born.

As of now, my baby shower on May 9th is still on, but that could change if conditions don’t improve.

At the end of the day, not having a shower to celebrate the arrival of our first baby would really suck, but I know it’s not the end of the world (well, hopefully not! Lol).

After all, my health and the health of those I love matters more in the long run than a party. But still, fingers crossed this all clears up soon!

Week: 26

Weight: +30

Highlights:

•people are buying things from our registry

•we’re pretty set on our baby name now

Lowlights:

•Coronavirus craziness

•the pregnancy insomnia is still very real

Pregnancy Week 25: the return of Braxton-Hicks

My old friend (nemesis) Braxton-Hicks has come back into town. This week has been filled with moments of stomach tightening and random mild cramps during the day and at night.

Maybe it’s because I’ve been drinking less water lately. Maybe it’s the lack of sleep and working my butt off trying to prepare for this maternity leave. Maybe it’s a full moon.

What I do know is that Braxton-Hicks towards the end of the second trimester seems a lot more nerve wracking than when it was occurring in the first.

Even though I’ve been reassured that having these false contractions in no way mean that I’ll going into preterm labor, my mind can’t help but flash to that thought when the second pang within an hour occurs.

And every time they happen, my thoughts head into preemptive mom guilt territory. I should be resting more. Sleeping better. I’m doing too much. Not exercising enough. I should be doing XYZ. And on, and on, and on…

I probably should be resting more, it’s true. But rest isn’t a very really option right now, with so much to be done and a counting down of the clock. I am doing my best to rest in the small, quiet moments that I can find throughout the day. That will have to do for now.

And water. I’m starting to drink more of that again too.

Highlights:

• baby kicks and flips that I can geel

•people are starting to buy items from our registry and cute baby things are showing up in the mail

•started reading a new book about caring for yourself in the postpartum period

Lowlights

•INSOMNIA

•my buddy Braxton Hicks

•the pregnancy constipation is real and it’s a bummer (and that is my bum pun for the week, ladies and gentlemen *bows gracefully*)

Pregnancy Week 24: Baby is movin’ and groovin’

I am 6 months pregnant this week and baby boy is as active as ever!

I’m feeling his kicks and flips on a daily basis, which has become my daily assurance that things are going “okay” in there.

To make things even more exciting, D felt the baby kick for the first time this Sunday! This happened after two weeks of me consistently shouting for him to come and feel the baby move…and the baby stopping every time he put his hand on my belly. Oops!

It was disappointing for him and frustrating for me. I swear he was moving just two seconds ago! Then I had a thought. What if the reason the baby stopped moving when D put his hand on my belly was due to me talking to D about the baby moving?

Was the sound of my voice causing our little guy to quiet down in there and listen?

It came to my attention that most of the times I had felt the baby kick strongly, I was sitting down and not speaking to anyone. Coincidence? Maybe. Or maybe not.

So this past Sunday night I decided on a plan to test out my “my baby is such a good listener he must be quieting down to listen to his mama speak” theory. While D and I were hanging out, watching The Office and playing Jenga, the baby started kicking around.

These kicks were the real deal and I could feel the pokes making their way to the surface of my belly.

Frantically, like a silent psychopath, I began waving my arms at D and making quiet snapping motions with my fingers. He must have thought I was trying to distract him from his next move in Jenga, because the man paid me no mind.

“Psst,” I whispered, “psst! Come feel, quick! The baby is kicking!”

I was nervous that even the whisper may have been too loud, as D quickly laid his hand across my stomach.

Then it happened. One big, strong kick from baby to daddy.

D’s eyes lit up in surprise and then he let out a happy laugh.

“That was a big one,” he beamed, “I’ve never felt even the smallest kick from him before, but he kicked me really hard! Oh my god!”

It was a such a great moment.

As a side note: what are the chances that baby boy’s in utero tendency to stop what he’s doing and listen to his mama will continue when he’s outside of the womb and well into his teenage years? High? Slim to none? Ahh well, I’ll enjoy this while it lasts at least!

There’s a little kicker in here somewhere!

Highlights:

•D feeling the baby kick!

•I got a free chocolate croissant at Starbucks for being pregnant (I could get used to that perk!)

•3 months now until we meet our baby

Lowlights

•I know I say this almost every week, but man my GERD is a real lowlight

•What is sleep? Insomnia has been crazy this week.

Week 23: (Unintentional) Belly Shirts

Week 23 of pregnancy means even the loosest pre-pregnancy shirts are holding on for dear life now.

I have reached the point in my pregnancy where even my loosest pre-maternity tops are holding onto dear life against my burgeoning baby bump.

Yesterday, in an early morning rush out the door, I threw on a (once loose) long sleeved shirt with a pair of leggings. Sure, the shirt felt a bit more snug than usual, but I shrugged it off because it had fit me fine the week before.

Well. As it turns out, this week is very different than the week before.

When I finally got around to looking in a mirror, I realized that there was about one inch of tummy peaking out from between my shirt and my leggings. An inch that no amount of pulling or tugging on my clothes could cover up.

I had inadvertently gone out of the house this morning looking like Backwoods Barbie: pregnant and in a belly shirt (with Uggs).

Oy. Not my best fashion moment lol

Needless to say, if you catch me in the maternity section of a Target this weekend, you know why I’m there.

“It’s all fun and games until your pants don’t fit.”

Highlights:

• feeling the baby move will always be a highlight

• almost getting my reflux under control (hopefully by the end of the week?)

• we are almost 100% on a baby name

Lowlights:

• a not-so-fun our of breath feeling after big meals

•weird upper abdominal pain when bloated, which I think could be from my hiatal hernia? Not fun

Week 22: One Chunky Baby!

Week 22 still has me in awe of the fact that I can now refer to the baby as a “him” instead of the gender-neutral “they,” thanks to his anatomy scan ultrasound this past Friday.

After months of being convinced I was having a girl, the realization that my “mother’s intuition” needs a little fine-tuning came in the form of a teeny weenie being pointed out on a doctor’s monitor!

We also got told that our little guy is measuring slightly big for his gestational age, at 1.3 lbs. So he’s a little chunker already!

We are over-the-moon excited to welcome our sweet baby boy to this world in June. And I’m finally able to shop my heart out for cute, non-gray scale, baby outfits. Thank god!

How I’m feeling this week

Round. My belly has definitely popped. Great for cute maternity pics. Not so great for my reflux and GERD. I feel like my stomach is getting pushed up higher and higher to make room for baby (which I think it actually is), making any reflux-related inflammation feel even more pronounced.

Also, sad. My uncle passed away this Sunday and my aunt (his wife) has just been placed into hospice care. With my uncle’s funeral and burial this weekend, and my aunt possibly passing any day, it has been an emotional week. I’ve been trying my best to think positive, as I’m worried that so much crying and cortisol could have a negative effect on the baby. But also, sad is sad and this really sucks.

Highlights

•the baby’s gender reveal brunch

•lots of movement from the baby!

•Actually SEEING my stomach move from the baby once this week

Lowlights

• reflux and GERD, per usual

•as the belly grows, it’s starting to get harder to get comfortable