why social networking is not for announcing pregnancies.

There's a really big reason for why I was upset that the baby news was leaked to facebook before I was good and ready to really tell anyone.
two years ago, I miscarried. I miscarried so early that it didn't show up on hCG tests and I was told (after I left the emergency room where I'd gotten plugged into some fluids) that I should just stop being so nervous and go home to rest. The next day, at 10 in the morning, I had the worst sensation of loss followed shortly thereafter by the most blood I'd ever seen in my life and the worst cramping I've ever felt in my life. But at least then, I only had to tell my husband and my mom about that trauma.

This time the hCG tests came back positive, but I'm still really worried. And we're not out of the woods yet- 1 in every 5 women miscarries. Last night I had a tiny bit of bleeding- and I know that can be totally normal- but I called my primary and I was shaking so badly that my husband stayed home from work to make sure I was ok. I had just gotten to the point where I was making up lullabies and was really comfortable with the idea of the baby being real- and now I'm back to just being scared. and overwhelmed. I don't even want to think of having to tell everyone if something terrible happens. On facebook, no less...I have no idea who knows and who doesn't.
I'm just so tired and sad right now, and I still feel pregnant, I'm just worried about side symptoms. I can't imagine dealing with a miscarriage this time, this public.

House Bill What??

"I won't say it but it rhymes with shmashmortion."

-Jonah, Knocked Up

There's a lot of furor up in the air about the republican house bill number 3, section 309. In this section, the definition of rape becomes Only defined as forcible rape. This would exclude other forms of non-consent, such as statutory rape, mental incompetence to consent, and drugged rape. Now, the title of the bill is "No Taxpayer Funding For Abortion Act" which sounds enticing.
I'm personally not stoked about the amount of my money that goes towards therapeutic abortions. I love the tiny life growing inside of me, and to me it is already my child. I knew it was there before it had even implanted in my uterus. I feel its energy as distinct and different from my own. I know it is alive, and that it is a tiny person (even if it looks like a sea monkey).
I'm in no way a personal supporter of abortion. I don't feel like it's my right to take away something else's life. But this life taking issue is also why I (personally) am not a hunter, or a veterinarian. I still eat meat. I still talk to veterinarians who preform what I consider to be unnecessary euthanasia. I even usually leave the bugs in my house alive, unless they seem to be bent on hanging out on my person or bed. Life is sacred to me.
The "No Taxpayer Funding For Abortion Act" is playing on this life loving emotion while doing something entirely different. Currently, the US government money (aka taxpayer dollars) is only used in the case of rape, incest, and danger to mother's health. This is the definition of therapeutic abortion- killing the child to preserve the mother (psychologically or physically). What this bill proposes is that the only rape that qualifies as serious enough to receive funding is forcible rape. Incest will only be covered to age 18. Danger to mothers would be left alone. Also, this bill would prevent tax-free health savings accounts (personal money) from being used to fund the abortion procedure.
This basically means that if a 20 year old mentally challenged girl was taken advantage of by a family member, not only would federally funded health care not pay for the abortion, neither would the girl's parents be able to use their own savings to pay for the abortion. It's also possible, using this new legal loophole, that the sexual predator would not be convicted because the girl was over 18 and no force was used.
Think of the number of sexual predators that would no longer be convict-able. Think of the ruined lives resulting from that alone, even if no pregnancy resulted from the rape. Think of the step backwards civil rights would take. Think of the broken hearts, that their rape wasn't "severe enough" that the courts would justify it.
Defeating this bill does nothing to the current rate of abortion. Everything stays as it is- therapeutic only- and rape is not legally redefined. The choice would remain, to be able to say no to abortion.

This is the site where you can add your voice to the others who don't see rape as a negotiable term: don't redefine rape

And in closing, here is a comment on another person's shared (same) link:

"They'd just argue they aren't taking the choice away, though. They'd say they just don't want to pay for it.But with all the restrictions already in place, women are still driven to people like the butcher in Philadelphia. And that was a man who operated for decades in a country where abortion is nominally legal. His clients were teenagers who couldn't ask their parents, immigrants, and women who couldn't get the money together to pay out of pocket until they were late in their pregnancies.This is where hurdles and restrictions lead us, but choking off access is the only thing these assholes can do as long as Roe stands.

That they're so willing to throw rape victims under the bus to do it just proves how much this is about hating women and the under privileged. Because let's not forget: even if Roe were overturned tomorrow, wealthy women would still have access to safe abortions. They did before, they will after."

-N.Johnson

so think about it. And think about the implications of that one tiny sentence, wrapped in appealing pro-life terminology.

continuation of baby talk, 24/7

At this rate, I'm not going to be able to see my feet because of my gargantuan chest-torpedos, not because of an expanding uterus.
I'm not kidding.

I was already an imaginary size in non-custom-fit bras, and I've graduated to an even more ridiculously imaginary size this week. I'm only 6 weeks pregnant, and breastfeeding is months in the future. If the hormones keep stimulating growth, I'm going to have to acquire a wheelbarrow. and a back brace.

In other news, the nausea seems to have rolled mostly under control, if I keep some tea and a snack handy. I have some somatic reeducation points (that aren't polite to work with in public) and some polite acupressure points that are working really well for me. They even seemed to have reigned in my sense of smell- not to say that it isn't still a super power. But now, when I come home and my wonderful husband has been working out for an hour, while I can't give him a hug- I can stand in the same room.

The napping is lovely (though pathological in its frequency). And totally inappropriate for the beginning of midterms season that it is. This week is only organ systems and palpation, and next week is only anatomy and anatomy lab, but the week after that is going to be wicked brutal. Ethics final, micro midterm, organ systems test, biochem test, all one after the other in a non stop cascade of knowledge download to scantron. 
After this time of trouble and tribulation, two of my classes will end. Which is a little sad, because on the whole, I'd rather be in those two classes and pick two Other classes to end. The schedule change will give me back monday mornings and thursday afternoons,which will be helpful for the studying for the rest of the quarter. And for making appointments in. And for being able to call anyone during their business hours.

And really...business hours? Those are awful for anyone else who also has business hours. When I start my clinic, I'm going to have to figure out how to stay open late once in a while, or work a weekend a month or something, just so average people can come in without missing work or school

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