Sunday, December 19, 2010

blah blah blah bitch moan pregnant blah blah blah

I've  recieved a few emails from friends asking me to post a new blog ASAP. How nice! So, in honor of YOU, yes YOU, I am posting today.

Honestly, I haven't felt like writing because I know whatever I write is going to just be one big bitch-fest. I'm so O-V-E-R being pregnant. Yeah-I know my pregnancy hasn't been that bad. I've only  weigh about 119. But on me that's a LOT. I had a ridiculously stupid breakdown in Anthropologie today. I  started crying because everyone in there was cute wearing cute clothes, and I wear the same 5 fucking maternity outfits every week. I HAAATE it so much. I try to mix and match and wear cute accessories, but really I just despise maternity clothes and I hate how my body looks.  I've pretty much refused to let Chris see my naked pregnant bod. It isn't gross or anything, I guess. I don't have stretch marks or cottage cheese thighs/ass, but I just feel frumpy. I always feel off-balance, and I run into tables and things all the time because I sometimes forget how much bigger I am.  I miss my Victoria's Secret stuff. I am going to burn this maternity shit as soon as I have my baby. Who I love-don't get me wrong.  I'm totally blown away by the connection I have with this little thing, and she's what keeps me going.  Yes, I feel that delivering her safely into the world and having her be happy and healthy is way more important that the fact that I hate being fat.  But a girl is allowed to complain, right?

See-I told you .You didn't want me to write anything.

Wednesday, December 1, 2010

I tip my hat to you

Have you ever been in a conversation with someone, and you thought you looked a certain way, but then realized you didn't? I know that makes absolutely nooo sense so I'll describe what just happened to me.

I'm walking Buckley, and I pass by this new little store in my neighborhood. There is a sign in the window that says "Boutique" and they have a bunch of cute second-hand clothes in the window, a super cute retro leather jacket, artwork, jewlrey...things like that. So I decide to go in and see what it's all about. Now when I went in I totally forgot that I had changed out of my work clothes before I took Buckley on his walk. So in my brain, I'm still looking cute.  I have on my mature, yet sassy black cap that screams "urban chic, bitch", funky earrings from BCBG, and my cute gray leggings that match (just enough "go with", but look not too matchy matchy) my purple and gray  jacket.    I'm talking art and fashion with this guy, I'm all like  "Yeah, he probably thinks I'm a super cool city chick."  I'm telling him that I have some stuff that I don't wear anymore and I'll bring it by ( Like- he should be SO LUCKY that I, Teresa Kelly, fashionista extraordinaire will do him a favor and allow him to sell some of my awesome clothing) LOOK HOW FASHIONABLE I AM WHILE PREGNANT!

He gives me his card, we say our goodbyes, and I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror before I walk out.

I did not look anything like I thought I looked. First of all, I wasn't wearing my cool city girl black hat. I was wearing my fucking pink and red Dr. Suesse  Cindy Lou Who looking thermal hat. No funky earrings. I WAS, however, wearing my purple and gray jacket, but I also forgot I changed into my pre pregnancy bubble gum pink BEBE sweatpants that look like they are going to bust open if I so much as fart because the are an XXS and I am not really and XXS these days. Not to mention I KNOW I have a serious panty line, in addition to the fact that  the words BEBE are written across my across my ass with only SOME of the pink and silver "rhinestones" ( really, I bought these?) still in place.

How did I forget I got changed? Do you know what it's like talking to someone in a pink Dr. Seusse hat, when you think you have on a hip, cool person city hat? DO YOU? It's weird. Very weird.

Tuesday, November 30, 2010

Tell Me Something Good

One thing I'm learning throughout this pregnancy, is that my girly goodies are no longer MY girlie goodies. They are EVERYBODYS ! With the bleeding I've had, I have to keep going to the doctor, they look at my vag, and tell me nothing is wrong and send me home. It's SO annoying, but I have to go every time it happens. I have not ever spent so much time talking about my private parts ever in my whole life... not to mention that every time I hop into some stirrups I am reminded that I have not done any waxing, shaving, or grooming since July! Thank GOD my stomach is in the way I can't see anything down there. But still, when I'm laying there all hairy, I can't help but think, "Damn. It's 1992 all over again. Somebody put in some Bell Biv Devoe."

And someone remind me that I NEEED a pedicure. Not WANT a pedicure, I NEED a pedicure. I don't care if it's about to be December. Between my big stomach, the fact that I can't see or bend over to shave,  my toe nail polish that's been on my toes since September, and the fact that I usually lay around in sweatpants and stuff my face all weekend, well, let's just say I'm desperate for compliments. I need to feel pretty!

So last night I'm laying there ( hairy legs included)  in the oh so flattering position of stirrups (remind me to tell you about Chris the first time he saw me get into stirrups. It thought he was going to throw up.) I'm watching my  daughter's heart rate on the monitor. The nurse is telling me they she is going to do an internal exam, you'll feel pressure, blah blah blah. All of a sudden we get into an awkward discussion about the size of the speculum. Well, any conversation in stirrups is awkward really. But anyway...

"Oh. We are going to have to use the extra small speculum for you! There is no way this one is going to fit!" Uh...okaaaay.

"Everything is so nicely in place, and your cervix is so easy to find!" er...great?

"You are so tiny inside, really, that bigger speculum would have been so uncomfortable."

I make a stupid joke about how my husband will be upset about this small speculum news, and she looks at me like I have 5 heads. I mean, I'm sorry but the conversation was "wide open" (hehehe vag humor) for a good penis joke. Or not.

I guess not. So anyway-I'm not sure WHAT to make of all of this news about my small cervix, or why I should give a crap, but I decide that I guess she is complimenting me in some kind of strange gynecological manner.  I'll take it! So, my small, beautiful cervix and I are laying there, proud of our compliments, when she busts out with "Yep, that won't be the case after you have the baby. After that, it all goes to hell."

EXCUUUUSE ME? Are you telling me that my beautiful, small cervix, is going to be ugly and hard to find? Like EVERYONE ELSE you examine?

Well! I never!

Sunday, November 28, 2010

oh Have yourself a merry little pity party

Well, Thanksgiving is over. Which I'm happy about-but only because it means that I am thismuch closer to giving birth! I've never wanted to rush a holiday season so much...I mean, except for maybe when I was little and of course I wanted Christmas to come NOW because I was a greedy  little thing and want to open all of my presents.

We did have a lovely time in New York (near Saratoga) with Chris's family. It was really relaxing-I had a horrible cold which started last Thursday so it was good just to lay around and do nothing. Oh-and did I mention the COACH outlet? YES! I got a Coach bag at an outlet store in Vermont for $95-originally $378. Don't be jealous.

So...moving on to Christmas. Christmas sometimes makes me sad, because of course since I lost my singing voice 5 years ago I obviously can't sing Christmas songs. I have had some great voice lessons here and there over the past five years ( along with three surgeries) but for the most part, I'm coming to terms with the fact that I will not ever sing or perform again. I've tried to sit down and write about it a few times, but I usually just end up deleting everything because it hurts too much, and I'm still at a point where I'm pretending that I will sing again. Not quite ready to pull the plug-but I'm getting there. The one thing that is very upsetting is that I will not be able to sing to my daughter. That thought just rips my heart out.

A lot of times people say to me "Well, I'm sure you still sound a million times better than me." And I just smile and laugh (hahaha) while inside my heart wants to scream at them. It isn't about how I do or do not sound. I physically CAN"T sing. It isn't that I have a bad singing voice. The sound just doesn't happen most of the times. It doesn't sound hoarse, or out of tune, or have a bad tone. It's just-nothing. The only way I can describe it is like trying so hard to push open a locked door.Nothing happens because it's locked.

Now, on days when my voice DOES feel good-I sound very pretty, my high notes are all there, tone is good-I'm in tune. But it only lasts for like a half hour AND during that half hour I'm not singing songs-I'm just vocalizing and doing exercises.  My head voice is much better than my chest voice,I can sometimes get through part of a classical piece, but for the most part-I just try to pretend that I never loved anything as much as I loved to sing.

I want to bring my daughter to music classes-but I think if I have to sing songs with her I'll most likely just cry. I always thought I would sing to my children. I thought we would put on plays together, dress up, sing musicals, and I would teach her how to belt like Judy Garland and Etta James, and kick her ass if she wanted to sing some shit like High School Musical or whatever that movie is.  But for whatever reason, I'm not meant to sing anymore. I still can't figure out why this happened to me. I hate when people say "Everything happens for a reason" because there really is no positive that has come out of it. I'm just really sad. I wake up every morning STILL and I feel an empty, hurt in my stomach and heart because of it. It's beyond "straining my voice too much".

 I actually was going to have a botox injection in my vocal cords in August (I might have something called spasmodic dysphonia), but then I found out I was pregnant so of course that has to be put on hold. I might have it done after the baby is born, mostly because whatever I have has started to affect my speech, even though most people say they can't hear it.

So yes, when I hear Judy Garland singing "Have yourself a Merry Little Christmas" on the radio I want to throw a shoe or something and turn the music off because that was my favorite Christmas song to sing. I want to cry when I think about music classes with my daughter because she's going to wonder why her mom sucks at singing so bad. I mean, my mom has the worst voice ever, but at least she can get through a song. I'm just a dancer with a broken leg.  Or a pianist with a broken hand. Except no one can see my break, so they think it's just all mental in my head. I hate it.And I hate when people who can't sing, try to be singers, but that is another blog another time.

Monday, November 15, 2010

If that horse and cart falls down...

So...there are a lot of things I don't like about being pregnant. I'll freely admit that I am not a huge fan of carrying life. That said, if anything were to happen to my little life, I would fight to the end to try to save her.

I had some bleeding/cramps today, so I called my doctor and they told me to go right in to make sure I wasn't having contractions.  I felt sick to my stomach when the nurse said that, even though I obviously know that bleeding is a concern when you are pregnant, and yes-contractions/labor were a possibility. That's why I called. To hear someone say it out loud though is just really horrifying. Especially because I know that if I did have the baby now, they would not try to save her because she is not 24 weeks old. That is totally devastating.

Being pregnant isn't like walking around with a bowling ball tied to your stomach. I mean, it kind of is but that is sort of the least of the whole experience of being pregnant. ( I mean, maybe I'll rethink this statement when I'm at 38 weeks-but for now it isn't the main focus).  I worry about this little thing all the freaking time.  I'm the only house she has ever known, I'm the only person who can take care of her at this point. I know Chris loves her- I absolutely know he does. When my sister was pregnant with Rocco, I loved Rocco but it was a different kind of love. What kind of love is it? I don't really know. How is it possible to love someone you have never met? I do know now that I like to play music for her, I like to eat yummy food and imagine that she is moving around like crazy due to the excitement of the jelly filled donut I just ate (even though I'm pretty sure she can't taste anything). I like to pat my stomach and imagine that it makes her feel safe and comfy, I try to find a good sleeping position so that I don't squash her, I try to find all these little jobs that don't seem like much, but they are the only ways I can feel like I can let her know that I love her .  Mostly though, I just want to hug and kiss her so bad that it almost makes me cry. Sometimes it does make me cry.

I swear I'm not trying to act like I'm the first person to ever get pregnant. I know everyone loves their babies. It's just weird because before I was pregnant, I too, thought it was just like strapping on a bowling ball, and sometimes you go tired.  Yes, I thought miscarriages were sad-of course. But I didn't really GET them. The responsibility is so much bigger. It's so overwhelming. I don't know how I'll be able to handle loving another person so much that it makes my heart break.  I mean, I'm okay with love and everything. I love my family, my family loves me, I love my husband.  It's just that when a nurse says "We aren't sure where the blood is coming from, and we don't save the babies until they are 24 weeks old" and THEN hands you a packet that says "Information on A Threatened Abortion"...I don't even know how to explain it.  I wanted to get inside myself and curl up with my baby and protect her until she is old enough to come out.

I know there has to be a cutoff point. I also know that the nurse has to deliver bad news to moms to be all day, and that if she cried with everyone she helped, she wouldn't be able to do her job. Maybe if I hadn't been so close to the cutoff I wouldn't have felt so upset.  I was totally overcome with this emotion of being powerless. There would be nothing I could do to help baby. ( She does have a name, but I have not made an official announcement...even though if you ask I'll tell you)

Ultimately, I think I'm going to be okay. I just think I've just had my first little tiny taste of parenting, and it is totally frightening. Totally.

Friday, November 12, 2010

Now I’m feelin so fly like a G6 Like a G6, Like a G6

So, in my last post I mentioned the new vocab words that are going to become regulars in my new lifestyle. Boppy (ie?), binky, bottles, poop-It's a whole new world of vocabulary that I have to get used to! There are two other important words that I forgot to mention that I have become friends with since becoming pregnant. Please everyone, let me introduce you to my two new friends SALE and CHEAP.

First of all, I'm not saying that I only shop at Neiman Marcus. In fact, I maybe buy something from there once a year. If I COULD afford it, I would totally be there every living second of the day, rolling around in designer merchandise shouting at the top of my lungs to my personal shopper "That one!" " And that one!" "And THAT one!" Demanding that said personal shopper bring me every single size 7 Louboutin, while feeding me strawberries and popping champagne. "Crack the Dom PĂ©rignon bitches!"

Uh...what? Where was I?

Oh yes-so due to finances I am usually an average/middle of the road kind of retail kind of gal. I regularly frequent Bebe, Athropologie, Steve Madden, Express and BCBG. $150 shoes are a norm in my closet. Nothing too fancy But! Since becoming pregnant-I've started looking elsewhere to buy clothes. Well, kind of. Since I'm buying maternity clothes, obviously I can't go get some kind of size double zero slut skirt from Bebe. I have been going to Pea in the Pod and Gap Maternity which are sort of on the pricey side...Pea in the Pod more than Gap. The big thing is, I've discovered something called "The Sale Rack" OOOOOOO! AHHHHHH! Sale rack! I've discovered you can find cute things on the sale rack, you just kind of have to dig around. I mean, yes I do have two or three maternity shirts that were $60, and I am going to buy at least one good pair of maternity jeans that I LOVE that are $80,but other than that everything has been under $50! I rule! AND I got a really cute maternity dress from....TARGET! I think the only clothes I've ever got from target were my "hiking clothes" I bought for my honeymoon. The dress I got was super cute and comfy, and I am going back for some more maternity stuff this weekend. Who knew?

Also, shoes have been an issue. As a pregnant woman, the pairs and pairs of four inch heels covering my closet floor were just not going to do. I thought some flat boots would be good to wear with leggings while preggers. But, as we are socking money away, I did not think it was a good idea to spend $200 per pair of  boots. I needed a black pair and a brown pair and a grey pair...because the wrong color boot can make your outfit look so dumb. (really really dumb). So one evening, while strolling around the Plymouth Meeting Mall, I walk by Wet Seal.

Do I dare? Do I dare go into Wet Seal? It was my FAVORITE store in High School ( formerly called Contempo Casuals for those of you who are not old dinosaurs). I peeked in. The music was stupid and loud, it was the first time I heard that G6 song, and I still don't know what the hell at G6 is but anyway. Yes, everyone in there looked like Snookie or some low rent version of Lady Gaga. Me and my pregnant self quickly run back to the "shoe" section. It's like, all of the shoes are sitting on a rack tied together by a plastic thingy. SOOOO cheap looking. Anway-little brown boots on sale for $25 (from $40) Cool! Sweet! Let me get these and get the F out of here! I go to the register, and I am greeted by Bubbles McGee. "DID YOU FIND EVERYTHING YOU WERE LOOKING FOR?" She screams at me over the stupid G6 song. "Yes, thank you" I say. "THE BOOTS ARE BUY ONE, GET ONE FOR A PENNY!" Um, what?? A penny? "YES, A PENNY!" Okaaaay. I go back over to the "boots" and see one pair of black tall flat boots. Alrighty then. Penny boots. I go back over to the register where I see Bai Ling's twin holding my brown boots. She then takes my black boots out of my hand. "These are sooo gorgeous" she says seriously. lady. These are not gorgeous shoes. They are efficient, black, cost one cent, and will do the job during my pregnancy. I was sooo embarrassed to even be in there with these people. I paid my bill of $25.01 plus tax and ran out like a G6.

Good Mommy! Buying ugly sale shoes so your daughter can have a Neiman Marucs baby blanket.

Wednesday, November 10, 2010

The Not So Immaculate Conception

Yooooooou-Whoooooooo! I'm over here! Yes-ahem, hello and hi.

Starting a new blog is awkward, isn't it?  Sort of like a first date, except not really. I was blogging about my wedding last time we talked and had a few posts about my future baby, but now that I am about to become a mother-my wedding seems as though it was years ago. Sort of. It also seems like it was just yesterday. Which I find depressing. No sexy newlywed time for me and the hubster. I found out I was pregnant as soon as I came home from our Barcelona honeymoon in July-which is sort of embarrassing.

There. I said it.  I find the whole "honeymoon baby" thing to be totally embarrassing.

Everyone does the math when I tell them the due date. They make jokes about it , "Guess ya didn't do too much sightseeing hehehehe" and I have to go along and hahahehehohum and act like I'm totally okay with the fact that these people have a mental picture of me in all of my baby making glory. I hate it.  Oh-and for the record my wedding was on June 19th, 2010 and my daughter is due March 17, 2010. She is possibly a wedding night baby, but not concieved before, as I was totally wrapped up in place cards, guest counts, and tulle and barely knew my future (now present) husband existed. So there. Now you all know I did it on my wedding night, and on my honeymoon, like MILLIONS OF OTHER PEOPLE IN AMERICA. Isn't it soooo hilarious?

So anyway, I guess this blog will mostly be about me and my journey out of the bars and into motherhood. Bottles,  binkys, and boppies will now become regulars in my vocab. Bebe, bloody marys, and brunch will slowly become mystery words of yesterday. Well, not really, but I'm sure for the first few months I'll be totally brain dead and not able to think about much besides keeping the baby alive, and safe.

I'll try my best to NOT majorly screw up her first month of life.