It’s a…


And he has all his necessary parts, which all appear to be in working order. Will update with adorable US shot of him giving us the thumbs up.

V excited over here.


An anxious post about anxiety, futility, and not wanting to.

If I’ve written it once, I’ve written it a thousand times: tomorrow is our anatomy scan.

So far, I’d say I’ve been mostly good at not being anxious about this baby.

Now, though…now we’re almost halfway. 19.5 weeks. And suddenly, I am flooded with different anxieties, some of them founded and some utterly unfounded and/or irrelevant.

Things I have worried about: what if our kid is dumb? what if our kid hates reading (this would be a crisis in a home filled with shelves upon shelves upon shelves of books)? what if our kid has terrible food allergies? what if I never get to sleep and that makes me a huge bitch (I don’t do too well on extended sleep deprivation: this is my #1 fear about infancy)? what if the baby ruins my relationship with A? what if the baby is born and I think it’s boring/don’t bond with it for a while? what if the baby is born and A thinks its boring/doesn’t bond with it for a while? what if our neighbors are total assholes about a baby in the building (this is a real concern, not paranoia)? what if our kid is ugly (and we know it? or we don’t know it?)? what if we can’t keep on top of the housework (oh god, so many cats!)? what if having a baby and trying to write a dissertation is untenable/totally isolating/depressing/awful?

Most of these have been worked through. Some are real and have been recounted and discussed with A. Some will have to be sorted out when there’s an actual baby here. Some new ones will surely crop up between now and November.

Today, I am worried about the anatomy scan. We’ve been thinking about it as though it’s a peek at tiny genitals. But there’s all those other parts to check, too. What if there’s, like, a real problem? And if everything is fine, what if baby doesn’t cooperate and we don’t see the tiny genitals we’ve gotten so excited to see? (We weren’t going to find out — we really weren’t…but now we’ve caved so wholly.) OR what if we DO see them? This fills me with anxiety, too. I think because then it becomes somehow less abstract. Like an actual baby is going to be at the end of this. Who will be a person. With an identity. Once we know things about it, we’ll never un-know them.

This halfway thing is nerve-wracking! We’re so not ready in the house: boxes everywhere, a distinct lack of necessary furniture. And A leaves next Thursday for two weeks without me, and I meet her for a third week to visit her family. So we’re looking at August to sort out our home. God. Help. Us.

Perhaps most frustrating is my inability to just do it myself. This is the case for many reasons, including the lack of furniture, but also the prohibition against carrying heavy things, A’s insistence that I avoid carrying things up and down stairs as much as possible, A’s insistence that I cannot paint, and my own easily fatigued body. Also the fact that when I really wear myself out in a day, it takes all of the next day to recover. It’s like when I learned that after you’re 27, hangovers are way worse than they were when you were 22. All of this makes me feel like a hamster in a wheel: I feel like I’m doing (some) stuff, but it looks just as it did when I hadn’t done anything. I can’t do some of the things that need to be done.

The kicker? I just wrote this 650-word post to AVOID writing a 300-word research proposal for a grant due tomorrow. What an easy application, I just do not want to. I want the money. I do not want to think about work just yet.


Happy Birthday to A!

Today is A’s birthday. Things continue to be crazy for us, so celebrating is a bit spread out. I’ll make her a nice dinner tonight — shrimp with huitlacoche pasta — and we’re taking a little trip to the lakefront in Indiana this weekend just for the night. Saturday we had a little bbq party on the beach by our house.

Thursday, of course, is our anatomy scan. I dreamed last night about trying to nurse a kitten and woke up thinking the scan was today and feeling very odd about finding out the sex.

Do you like being pregnant?

This is, so far, the strangest question I’ve had to field (again and again). I suppose some people really love or really hate being knocked up. I suppose that I may yet develop a strong inclination one way or another. But so far? So far it’s fine. I wasn’t so sick at the beginning, and I feel pretty good these days. But I haven’t had any real deciding factors either way.

I think I expected to love this infamous second trimester: the rumored energy boost, the glow, the sex drive. But I haven’t had any of these with any kind of vengeance. I’m not exhausted, and I went from zero to mildly frisky, but that’s as far as my boosts have gotten me.

We’ll see, I guess. It’s just that I don’t know what to say when people ask if I like being pregnant. Especially not without sounding like a chump.

I do think I felt my first kick(s) last night, so we might be on an enjoyment upswing.

The neverending march of boxes

Trying desperately to unpack. In my mind, this place was already a shared space, but as it turns out, there’s a lot of stuff in here that’s A’s, and not a lot that’s mine, and lots of room is being made.

In caretaking news, we found three tiny kittens in the alley when we arrived home Sunday night. Their mama is with them, too. And because we are apparently crazy cat ladies, we are now attempting to trap them all. The mama will get spayed and released. One of the kittens will go live with my sister. The other two (if they’re still around — we haven’t seen them today) will go to the shelter. …Any of you Chicagoland-ers want a baby black and white kitty? They’re heartbreakers.

I swear my belly gets bigger every day. The dreaded heartburn seems to be moving in. Other than that, feeling pretty good. We’re waiting with bated breath for our anatomy scan!

In comparison

A friend of my sisters’ came to the rehearsal dinner tonight. She’s pregnant with twins, due in october. She’s not that much bigger than I am. Of course now *I* am convinced I’m huge. My sister who has a baby says this is why pregnant women shouldn’t be around one another: no comparing. Their friend says it’s not that I’m huge, it’s that she’s small from having had a horrific first tri.

Either way, my feet are killing me from that hour in heels!

Back home-home

for my sister’s wedding. My mother announced she’s “tired of buying gender-neutral clothes” for our YTBD babe. Anatomy scan is scheduled for June 30.

My sister says I look huge. My other sister asked if my ankles have started swelling. Those a-holes. We love to torture one another. I’m very intrigued by the prospect of a sober family wedding…

Done and done

The last two weeks have been so extraordinarily busy I’m surprised I didn’t puke. But now we’re back in Chicago. Living together full-time!

I feel a little strange about the major transitions that I haven’t had time to think about until now. Like I actually live in a different place now. And I have to write a dissertation now. And we have to transform the apartment into a place where a baby will live.


I can’t tell if I haven’t been gifted the infamous 2nd trimester energy boost, or if I’ve just been employing any additional energy as soon as it’s produced.

I can tell you that I’m eating like a horse. Also that I am NOT glowing. My skin is the same or worse than not-pregnant. My hair is a small-scale atrocity: limp and stringy. (I’m buying new products like mad to try to resolve this issue.) My pelvis was killing me for about a week and a half — right at my pubic symphisis, which makes things like putting on pants quite painful — but that’s slowly been getting better, and I hope that path continues, at least for a while.

Those are the woes, I suppose.

I’m hoping to feel the zunzun very soon. I’ve been sneezing quite a bit, as a result of the dust of moving, and I thought maybe I could feel the startled flapping of a fetus when I do that sometimes, but I can’t say for sure. I suppose it’ll reveal itself sooner or later.


Maybe these are the three most important letters in the career of a PhD student?

Did I say “student”? I meant CANDIDATE. That’s what I am now!

Exams are FINALLY done. Not sure how I pulled that one off! They were a little brutal, but totally manageable. Now, I grade for days. Oh yeah, and move. NBD.

Everything is better

A is here. Written exams are done. Our CA domestic partnership (and, I think, our Iowa marriage) is now recognized in IL.

We managed to sleep through the night last night, even though I was worried about how A would be integrated into my now-habitual nest of pillow-props. I tossed and turned some, but it wasn’t as bad as I had feared.

Tomorrow, we’re having a little going away/baby shower shindig.

Wednesday we have our last OB appointment out here. A was hoping to see the zunzun, since she missed the NT scan, but I’ve informed her that’s not happening. We won’t see in there again til the anatomy scan (which isn’t scheduled, since we don’t technically have a babydoc picked out yet to transition to…err…).