No Homework Weekend

I can't seem to get into gear this weekend. I know there's nothing horribly pressing going on, though the week after this will be painfully full of tests. I should be studying anatomy and microbiology for next week, but the only test this week is reproductive physiology. I think I'm all up on how that works.

So instead, I've just been taking the time to enjoy the changes in my body and to get used to the idea. I've never felt more beautiful, which is a little strange because two weeks ago I had nearly achieved that perfect, magazine worthy flat stomach and had been thinking about buying bikinis. I'm starting to show, in that if you had Known that my stomach was originally flat, I have gained back the two pant sizes I had lost. Handy, because this means if I had gone shopping and goodwill-donating like I'd been contemplating, I'd currently be running around naked or re-buying the same size. Instead, I'm comfortably in the clothes I've had all along. And my skin is clearing up.

I think I'm going to dedicate the rest of this weekend to taking naps and baths and putting shea butter and vitamin E on my growing curves, and get back into serious business news after my little retreat.
Also, I used my allowance to buy a hairdryer because of the many baths and showers I'm taking, and replaced my broken purse, which I think will decrease my stress levels even more.

I also bought this:

First purchase for Baby

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Which is adorable. And I cried over the transaction, as if having baby possessions is what makes being pregnant real. <3

Yes, we know what causes this.

Clearly, my muddled state of mind didn't allow me to fully go into the questions that I've been asked since my dad leaked the news all over facebook. (and seriously, who expects their Dad, their one and only dad, who can't even upload a photo by himself from a camera to the internet, to leak the news on the biggest social networking site of all time?)
But here I am, it's Saturday morning at 6 am, I had to wake up to go pee (again) and this time I couldn't go back to sleep. May as well not do homework ;)

First of all, the first question I got (and from that notorious dad) was "You know what causes that, right?"
and the answer is, yes. Yes we do. I think it's a little sweet that we managed to get knocked up, even with us working totally opposite schedules and me in med school. Hurray that our marriage is strong enough that we still manage to have sex, despite all of the stress and the homework and the time constraints. Actually, if you really want me to get into it, I just covered reproductive physiology at school (ironic, I know) and I could draw you up the prostaglandin complexes that sperm have riding with them to cause uterine contractions to get up to the infindibulum to fertilize the egg that's still riding the leutinizing hormone spike from ovulation. The truth of the matter is, yes. We knew that having sex could make babies, and we did it anyway. And we enjoyed it.

The next question I'm getting all the time is- when are you due?
According to my record keeping, I'm due on October 4th. This hasn't been confirmed by a midwife, but I figure I've taken vertebrate embryology, justisse fertility awareness, and reproductive physiology. I'm capable, at this point, of figuring out my own due date. I ovulated on January 11th, and had sex 5 days prior, which means I conceived on the 11th or 12th.  (and that conception shouldn't have happened! 2 days of inhospitable conditions for those spermies before cervical mucous kicked in with all it's fructose and protein structure help.) 38 weeks from conception, or 40 weeks from last period, both say early October. My mom ran really late with me, and it's hard to tell if the due date was not calculated correctly, or if my family just runs late.

A collection of questions that I won't answer in depth-
Yes, we're keeping it.
Yes, we have names picked out.
No, we're not telling you the names yet.
No, I'm not planning a hospital birth.
Yes, we're going to see a midwife.
Yes, I've been taking prenatal vitamins for a while.
No,  I can't have sushi.
Yes, I wish I could have sushi.
No, I'm not cleaning up the litter box.
No, we weren't trying for a baby
Yes, we were actively Not trying for a baby.
and Yes, we're both going to finish school still.

one of my favorite questions so far-- "So, I'm confused. I've never slept with a man with a penis, but how is [having a baby] a surprise?"
She was deadly serious too, as if each sperm cell was an egg-seeking, heat-guided decepticon with the end of the world as its only goal. My husband and I have been having sex for years, and we've never run into baby-making trouble before, which is how it became a surprise. Though, I'm pretty sure I knew that something was strange and different three days after conception, which makes the pregnancy test something more like a confirmation of a truth I had been unwilling to face, despite my exhaustion, nausea, and constant bathroom trips.

Speaking of- that brings us to the most common question- How are you feeling (both emotionally and physically?
And well, I feel like I have a uterine parasite. I'm terrified both that it won't be viable and that it will be. Every day, I wake up and say "good morning, baby! You're doing ok. You're going to be fine." and then spend the rest of the day worrying that I'm going to miscarry. I don't know how I'm going to handle school and a baby, or how we're going to afford a baby. I spend all day feeling incredibly nauseous, which reassures me, because hCG is the hormone responsible for that, and that's a baby sustaining hormone.
I drink ginger tea like it might be the only hope left in the world.
I finished my biochem test quickly, because if I went over it a fourth time, like I usually do, I also might've puked in the trashcan next to Dr. D. I felt this would be a distraction to my classmates.
I also spend all day peeing, as my kidneys adjust to extra blood flow so that filtration for two can begin in earnest. I had to leave somatic reeducation 3 times on thursday to pee and throw up.  Plus, it's like I have superpowers. I can smell that guy's fish, six tables away, and subsequently identify the method of cooking, and what spices he used as I run away from the stench. My boobs have grown half a cup size (like they really needed to....) and I can't lay down on my stomach comfortably because of that. I can pretty much fart on command, thanks to my uterus and its newly expanding shape.
I'm excited and terrified, and I have no idea what I'm doing with a kid- I've never done anything but be in  school. But I have a wonderful support network, and my parents are nearby, and my husband is the most fantastic man in the world, and he was made to be a papa. Also, everything makes me cry. I'm very super emotional. So that's how I'm feeling.

And today is my first prenatal appointment! Jerith is going to get home soon, and then we can both shower (because of my heightened sense of smell, I'm pretty much showering twice a day and brushing my teeth three times as frequently, and carrying deodorant in my purse, and...) and get ready to go! I think I might be my Primary's (at the clinic there's a supervising doctor, who is not always in the room, a primary student, who acts as doctor, and a secondary student, who mostly observes) first patient pregnancy.  Exciting for him and for me, but there's no way in hell I'm letting him do my pelvic exam. I would never be able to pass him in the halls again without thinking "he's seen my vagina."  A student doctor who you see in the lunch room induces some unique social awkwardness.

So there you have it- a complete update, answering all of your questions (maybe.)

Surprise

It's always a beginning, in every end.
This month, things have been weird. I was doing everything right, but I was still really tired. I still felt dizzy. I still felt nauseous.
Which, of course, makes sense when one stops blaming it on a detox burden and takes a pregnancy test.
Obstetrical age- 5 weeks. Embryological age - 3 weeks. Due in early October.
I've known for a couple weeks, though I waited for a test to confirm before telling the folks. Then my folks, defying all expectations, told everyone they know in the world (via facebook!). I was going to wait to talk a bit longer, but there it is. Preggers.
Kindof cosmic, considering that almost every class I have just went over reproductive anatomy and physiology. I'm intimately acquainted with the cellular divisions required for my sea monkey, but I've no idea where this path will lead us. I have a photo of each week so far, coincidentally, so I'm going to keep doing that. I may post some up here sometime.

end of one journey

              I've heard that whatever you put on your skin- your amulets, your ink, your oils- they soak in, and become a part of your souls and guiding forces. From the oldest of records to present day, we use our skin as protection, and as the place for the rituals guiding aging take form. Maori believe that tattoos follow on into the afterlife, and the monks of the tiger temple are covered in protective signs and sigils. Cultures around the world use body modification to show that a child has become an adult.

             For me, my spirit has always been wound round and round two things- jaguars, and roses.     Both have taught me, and both continue to guide me.

            I think I was 8 or 9 when I read "The Jaguar Princess" by Claire Bell for the first time.
A basic plot synopsis is that this maya/ inca/ aztec (I know they're different, but the author mixed it up for the story) little girl is captured and made into a slave, but she's not considered pretty so she's just a menial house worker. She can't swim, and she's got awkward bones. The house is a school for scribes though, and she learns how to read and write (which is seriously against caste and stuff. but she does what she wants!) and basically flows with her life, getting upgraded to cooler and cooler writing things, learning that she can't swim because she's a super dense shape shifting jaguar, the usual, until a prince falls in love with her, his father tries to marry her for political gain and maims his son, and she transforms into a jaguar, kills all the hummingbird-on-the-left priests who are a little too blood thirsty, converts the whole area to worshiping tepeyololti (the jaguar god of caves) and settles in to peace and prosperity as queen.


When I was 8 or 9, this meant I terrorized the neighborhood pretending to be a jaguar. (also, I can't swim.)

But as the years went past, it seems to me that I fell in love with an amazing story of what happens when a person does the best they can in whatever situation they find themselves in, and a classic rags to riches story.

I knew I had to have part of the jaguar on me, or in me. Jaguars are brilliant. They never stop coming, they never give up on what they want. The god of jaguars is the god of caves and quietness, which provides balance to the energy of the chase. I needed that energy to keep me whole, but I wanted to be softer than pursuing and killing and caves....

It's a good thing I grew up in rose country. My family had 24 rosebushes in our little yard. Climbing roses, dwarf roses, scented roses, beautiful roses. You may have read before my parroting of a line from Robin McKinley's "Rose Daughter" that "roses are for love. Not silly sweetheart's love, but the love that makes you and keeps you whole." And it's true. Roses don't grow where they're unloved. They take a lot of fuss and care to get established, and a lot of maintenance to keep them beautiful initially, but then, their roots dig deep and they stay grounded in that love. The more blooms you cut off, the more they give, and the air around them is perfumed with their joy of life, their ability to stand up to the storm, and their capacity to love in return. Roses were, for me, the perfect balance. I use rose water (preciously and sparingly, as my jar is my great grandmother's last jar of rosewater) to clear my face, to help with digestion, to clear my homesickness. I can't always have a physical rose to love, but there's always a rose garden in my mind...and now on my skin.

A year and a half ago, I started a journey, to imbue my skin with the symbol of a jaguar whose spots were made of roses.

Today, it's complete.

Eyes open to see where I am

the final roses

The whole piece

Underachieving is for Squares.

I've been working out seriously for 9 days, now, and I've learned a lot about myself in that time.
The first thing I learned is that I'm really good at underachieving because I'm afraid to fail. I've failed a lot, physically, because for the last seventeen years, I thought I had a deficient state of health, and that I couldn't physically attain being healthy. In the last three months, I've gotten stronger, felt more energetic, and started to heal. It's going to be a long process, but I healed enough that when the in-laws got my husband and I a rather intense workout program that they themselves had had success with, I thought I was strong enough to try.
On day one, I was afraid that I wouldn't be able to keep up, that my soft body wouldn't be able to handle the work out and that I'd pay in days of pain for just trying.
But you know what?
I did it anyway. I did the best I could, probably not even 60% of the video, but trying to keep up. And then I did day 2. And then I did day 3. And now it's day 9, and the video sequence is on it's second repeated video. I did so much better this week than last week! Maybe even 60% of the video, and lots of things that I did for the full time, even if there weren't quite so many repetitions.

Underachieving doesn't bring you that satisfaction that working hard to do your best does. Maybe that's not a surprise to you (why am I always surprised that there's two r's in surprise? I always spell it wrong once and then have to correct it.)  but it's been a little life changing over here, for me.
For me, it's been compliment city. The changes in my tone and definition a visibly noticeable, and this achievement (not Underachievement) has allowed me to look in the mirror and say "Hey, You're looking good today, body."  I'm pleased with my progress, and even more pleased that I have a plan to obtain more progress. By spring break, I'll be smoking hot (at least to myself, which is the only person who gets to count in self image anyway) and I'll be able to do so much more without getting tired or needing a break. Or a cookie.
I learned other things too, but I haven't quite thought of how I want to write them down. So instead, enjoy some first week progress shots.

 This is the amount of fitness I had attained with diet and yoga alone. I don't have any "pre-healthy" photos that are useful, but use your imagination to see this as a dramatic improvement.

And then see how much awesome I've worked up in just one week!

And I'm going to get so much healthier!

Leaves to grow on.

I'm pretty partial to years that start off with glorious sunshine and amazing fun.
My new year's party went, I felt, very well. I'd been worrying and worrying because it sounded like a million people were going to show up and they were all going to bring friends, but the guest list turned out to be comprised of 16.
16 people is exactly how many people fit in my house comfortably.
There were drinks, and delectable foods, and the discord of rockband being sung by the drunk and tone deaf. There were shared resolutions, party dresses, and mistletoe. (Highly underused mistletoe, I might add. I think there were only 3 kisses under the mistletoe over the course of the entire 8 hours of active partying. Ridiculous.) We counted down and toasted and laughed.
The world turned over and the sun rose again.

Now it's a new year. The darkest days of the old year have passed, and winter is beginning to pass with it. Spring seems like a possibility, now that the old year is out of the way. There will be cold and snow for a couple more months, but my rosebush thought about it and decided to grow ten beautiful new leaves.

I'm going to take a page from Darling's book (Darling is the rosebush) and turn over ten new leaves myself. (In this public forum, such that I may be held accountable to my new years plans)

1. I'm going to weigh 120 lbs by the end of march.
2. I will devote 30 minutes of every day to keeping my home reasonably clean.
3. I will take better preventative mental health care of myself during the school quarters.
4. I'm going to become more frugal and aware of our finances.
5. At least twice a week, I will prepare meals that have the potential to provide leftovers for not only my own lunch, but also for my husband's lunch.
6. My day planner will be used such that I prepare for life a week before anything is due. (this is not to say that I will not still do homework the day before I need it. I just want to be aware that it exists a week before I need to do it.)
7. I will fold the laundry within 2 days of doing the laundry. End goal- do the laundry, fold the laundry, put the laundry away all on the same day by December of 2011.
8. My communication skills will improve by leaps and bounds and I will enunciate more clearly.
9. I will give away at least one hug a day.
10. I will go to at least one hot springs this year and will follow naturopathic principles while I'm there. (the more sun on skin the better, follow hot water with cold, be at peace with nature's laws, ect.)


How many leaves will you turn this year? How can your life be of higher quality? Make your goals...then tell someone so that in three weeks, when your exercise program really starts kicking your ass, or there's tons of school and no one to see the house, or... that person will inconveniently call you on your slacking off. <3

Here's to changes and difficulty and smiles- it's a whole new year.