March 21, 2009

• Yesterday

  Okay, so we didn’t get to find out the sex of the baby yesterday. We go to a group practice — which I love because all the doctors are women and anyone who will deliver your baby you actually see.

  Your due date is calculated on your last period (not actual fertilization). Since my cycles were so bizzarly long, one of the doctors must have thought I was a whole four weeks ahead of where I actually am in the pregnancy (which makes complete sense when you are used to ladies with a 28 day lady cycle). And since I’ve not really been reading too intensely about what to expect (I’m too in the science of the fetal development of mammals to invest much time with sappy, poorly written books with pastel covers), I just took the last doctor’s word for it when she said, “yay! You get to find out the sex at the next appointment. ”

  Yesterday the doctors check out my blood pressure (a-okay), weighed me (holly crap! 154 lbs of Amazonian Motherload!), and put the mic to my belly to let the fetus beat-box away on it (I think we were supposed to hear a heartbeat, but to be honest: it just sounded all swooshy to me. I didn’t really understand what I was hearing). Our next appointment — where we REALLY discover the sex of the baby — is April 14.

  After the doctor’s, Shaun and I ate delicious lunchtime soup at Au Bon Pain.

  Earlier that week, I realized that my self-image had taken a nose dive when I found myself susceptible to cat calls. While walking to work, a jittery crack head shouted after me, “You beautiful, girl! Beautiful!” After his pissy, metallic smell cleared, I found myself smiling as if to say: “Really? You think so? My husband says that I am, but at this point, he’s sort of obligated to.”

  It was time I get my appearance under control.

  Old Navy was near our lunch destination, so I stopped in to get some new sports bras and work-out pants; my “regular” versions of these things are currently strangling me to death. I won’t lie: it was a thrill to buy a bra that was a whole size bigger.

  I looked at Old Navy to see if there were any clothes there that were cheap and might be good for work. But holy ugly! It might just be me, because I know loads of decent looking people shop there, but man. Those rags made me look way more disgusting than usual. They have a maternity section that is crammed up in the kids section, in a horrid dusty old corner. In it, you can buy revolting mumu’s and shirts that make it seem like your pregnant belly is also coming out of your sides and back (mine is just a ball that sticks out from my front and I hope to keep it that way with my work-out schedule). Also, Old Navy dosn’t think that pregnant people have to work. Or that they work at a pre-school or in a gym.

  Shaun remembered that they had a cute maternity boutique in Wicker Park called Belly Dance. We took the blue line there from Old Navy, just to see what cute stuff there is in the world for a pregnant lady. I  ended up buying a pair of nice black dress pants there for work. While they were way more than I plan on paying for most of my pregnancy items, I’ve been having a really hard time finding maternity pants in long. (It’s hard enough to find regular pants in long!) So I just bought this nice pair and plan to wear the hell out of them.

  The Belly Dance Store was really great. They had gorgeous outfits there. There were also those pregnant stomachs that you could strap on to see how the outfit would look once you grew bigger. Those were hilarious. 99% of the things there were way too pricey, but spending some time there gave me a better idea of what knock offs and resale items will look good on me.

  While we were in the trendy trendy Wicker Park neighborhood, I decided to get myself a haircut. The hormones and vitamins have made my hair wild. It grew long super fast and got crazy waves and thicker than usual (I already have very thick hair). It was looking pretty witch-like and I tried not to care in order to save money, but I’ve been near tears some mornings trying to get ready for work. (“But I look unprofessional!”)

  The hair cut lady broke me of my bad habit, acquired from being a teenager of the 90′s, of styling my hair with a round brush. She cut my hair with loads of layers in a crazy bob with amazing bangs. She gave me step-by-step instructions on how to style it with a  finger diffuser and product  to  make my waves and curls happy instead of trying to straighten them into submission. I like it a lot! And it only takes about 5 minutes to get really good. Yay!

  It was a really good day yesterday. Shaun gave himself the day off to go to the doctor’s with me and tromp about the city together. It was chilly but super sunny, which made walking about wonderful. And by the end of the day, I didn’t even need a crack head to make me realize that I feel pretty.

  • 9:28 am
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