The Pregnant Waddle

Pre-Pregnancy Weight Just Around the Corner (It's Trying to Run and Hide)

Thursday, December 21, 2006

New digs

This post brought to to you by Marvin and husbandlet.

Well, folks, I’ve finally caved to the pressures of my school’s firewall. I can’t access anything Blogger at all now, so I’m moving. I’ll keep this site up for the archives, of course, but for new content (as far as THAT goes), you can now find me at (got your pencils ready? #2 is preferred!)

WordPress is accessible at work, so I just may start posting more often … you never know. (And hopefully this particular bit of writing isn’t being monitored by Them, or I may disappear again. They are out to get me. Obviously.)

Tuesday, December 05, 2006

Ah-ha moments

Student: How come we have to write every little sentence out?
Me: Because I like to torture you.
Student: Figures.

Sunday, December 03, 2006

Late/Exhausted (i.e., it's 8:30 p.m. and this mama is ready for sleepytime)

A few bullet points:

* That whole thing about not feeling quite so sick this time around? I spoke too soon. End of the first trimester, I cannot wait to know you.

* Ngaire now speaks in two-word sentences, as in, “Hi, truck!” “Hi, Daddy!” and “Hi, kitty!” She greets everyone she passes with a delighted “Hi!” … even dashing into other rooms to greet and re-greet the chosen ones. Also, if you ask her what a cat says, she replies "Mrrr" in a very convincingly catlike manner.

* In other Ngaire news, the Squid now has a cold. She barks. She is a Barking Squid.

* In non-Ngaire news, it just started to rain. Earlier, I left the door of our storage shed open so the place could air out a bit. Do you think I just ran out to close it? Surely you jest. The Husbandlet did the frolicking honors, just as it should be.

* I wish I had an interesting school story for you, but everyone’s been especially dull of late. Including self.

* So I’ll close in the hope that a picture truly is worth a thousand words:

Daddy and his Mini Me. In answer to your question, no, no, she really doesn't look like me at all.

Tuesday, November 21, 2006

This could be one of my students in about 15 years

The other day, I came home to a message on my answering machine from my OB/GYN telling me that I’d need to re-schedule my 12-week ultrasound as the technician won’t be in on the day of my appointment. (Incidentally, this brings back the memories of my first pregnancy, when we kept showing up for re-scheduled ultrasound appointments, only to find the tech out again each time.)

So, today I called to re-schedule. I explained to the receptionist exactly why I was calling and that it was for my 12-week ultrasound. While we were hashing out the scheduling dates and details, the receptionist suddenly said, “You’re not pregnant, though, right?”


The Husbandlet has a Very Sexy New Computer. Technically, it’s for work (which explains its extremely high-powered, state-of-the-art nature), but it’s also a laptop. Which means that we are currently sitting side-by-side in bed while I blog and he runs through his computer games at different graphics resolutions, for comparison’s sake and, I’m sure, to see how effectively the graphics card will work for his dissertation-writing purposes. Right, Husbandlet?

When he started up a game, it automatically opened at the lowest resolution. The computer objected to this. “I’m barely idling,” it seemed to say. “For this you got two gigabytes of RAM?” Naturally, the Husbandlet humored it by upping the resolution a few notches.

So the computer reminds me of Marvin the melancholy robot in The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy. The Husbandlet objects to the association, though. “I don’t want my computer to be depressed!” he says.

Tuesday, November 14, 2006

I am so very sleepy, but I must blog this

This pregnancy fatigue, it is kicking my butt. I’m sleepy all the time. Last night, I was out cold by a quarter to nine.

I have only the vaguest memories of this, but apparently, last night, coming to bed some time after I did, the Husbandlet asked me, “Sophocles wrote the Oresteian trilogy, right?”

And I answered, “No, that was Aeschylus.”

My 10th grade lit teacher would be so proud. I can identify Greek tragedies in my sleep.

Thursday, November 09, 2006


I have become quite gaseous of a sudden. Apologies in advance to the Husbandlet, who is currently blissfully playing video games in the living room, little suspecting what fate has in store for him.

You know how when you haven’t blogged for awhile, it becomes difficult to know where to begin? I hardly know where to take this little baby postlet. So much to write about; it’s all jangling about in my head.

So, I’m pregnant? And this pregnancy? In slightly less than six weeks, it has established itself as totally different from the last. Last time, I suffered from the Bone-Melting Nausea and ate constantly to try to quell it. This time, I really don’t feel horribly sick, just slightly queasy, and I have no appetite to speak of. And it’s not even 8 p.m. yet, and I’m ready to crash for the night. I could have crashed some hours ago, in fact.

Fortunately, Ngaire goes to bed quite early in the evenings, while I still have energy to be something resembling a fun mommy. One of my favorite parts of each day, though, is morning. The Husbandlet retrieves the Squid and snuggles her and a bottle of milk while I get dressed, curried and combed. Then I join them in bed for cuddle time, and after a bit, the Husbandlet gets up and I have some quality time alone with the Squid, playing with her, changing her diaper and dressing her. It is so wonderful to come in each morning and see their almost identical faces on the pillow, or to see the Squid with her little arms around her daddy and her face burrowed into his neck. These days, she has become rather lavish with baby kisses, too, and freely dispenses them when I pick her up to hug her. It makes me happy to see how secure and content she is in the love of her parents. She is really an amazingly sanguine little girl, and I feel quite lucky to know her, let alone to have contributed to her production.

A few months ago, we were visiting with some friends who have older children. The Squid had just learned to walk, and the other kids were literally running circles around her. At one point, they frolicked off into another part of the house, and Ngaire obviously wanted to be one of their number. Laboriously, she worked her way through the living room and kitchen and started balancing herself on the step or two down into the sunken den where the kids were playing. At that point, the kids decided they were so done with the den. They went dashing past her back into the living room, leaving Ngaire poised—kind of stuck, actually—on a step and gazing wistfully after them again.

It’s amazing how much your heart can hurt for a little person. I know this topic has been done to death by mommybloggers worldwide, so I won’t beat it too much more, except to say that there’s nothing like having a child of your own to make you wish there were some way to delete all potential hurt from that child’s immediate vicinity. I see Ngaire’s happy trustingness, and I don’t want to ever see her happiness dulled or her trust become more tentative.

I certainly have a lot more perspective on the parenthood of God since becoming a mommy. I’m also working on my own trust, that God can not only protect Ngaire’s life and happiness a lot better than I can, but that his views on such things are a lot more comprehensive and wise than mine. He was involved in her production, too, just the merest little bit.

Sorry for the serious tone of this post … I’m obviously pregnant. I will post this and then lie here, until it’s a not entirely laughable time to go to sleep, in increasing comatoseness and gassiness. Sorry, Husbandlet.

Tuesday, November 07, 2006

I wish this actually gave me an excuse for not blogging, but I’m afraid it doesn’t really

Some months ago, the Husbandlet asked me, “Well, since you’re no longer pregnant and you’ve lost the baby weight, shouldn’t your blog be called something other than ‘The Pregnant Waddle’?” I protested, rather feebly, no doubt, that the name had seemed like a good idea at the time, and I guessed I’d stick with it. Besides, that’s where my vast readership knew to find me.

Now, however, the point, it is moot.

Meet the Remora. The Remora has been gestated for five weeks, and is currently busy developing organs. ETA is roughly July 7, at least according to an online pregnancy calculator. So far, aside from a few brief episodes of mild nausea, I’ve felt great, though very, very, very tired. I don’t remember being this fatigued with my first pregnancy.

Other early tip-offs that I was pregnant, starting from conception (we know when we got busy):
* Emotionalism. Over nothing.
* Excessive gas (sorry, Husbandlet).
* Seriously, I could feel my uterus stretching. Really! Please believe me.
* My skin broke out—around ovulation, not around PMS time. Veddy unusual.
* Evening queasiness.

All this led me to jump the gun and take a pregnancy test on cycle day 23. Negative. But my period didn’t show up, so on the morning of day 30, after retrieving the Squid’s morning bottle, I peed on another stick. Then I left it sitting on the bathroom counter and went back to bed. When the Husbandlet got up, some time later, he checked the stick and brought it to me. “Have a look at this,” he said. I was changing Ngaire’s diaper and just glanced over, not looking too carefully. “Negative,” I said. “Look again,” replied the Husbandlet. And indeed, there was a very faint second line.

(Apologies for the poor photo quality of the pregnancy test.. I don’t have a digital camera, so I scanned it. There are two lines there! I swear!)