Tash's Top 10 reasons for not loving pregnancy

Over the last couple of weeks I have felt overjoyed by the love and attention we’ve gotten since starting our blog again. Thank you all for reading it and sharing it with your friends. You make me want to write and write and write all day! That is bad for my real job though. With so many people following our story, a few questions have started to roll my way. One common question from the last couple of weeks has been about whether or not I love being pregnant, hence the inspiration for this post.

So here’s the thing, to say that I don’t love being pregnant makes me feel like a bad mother already and we don’t even have a baby yet. And for a girl whose wanted to have babies since she popped out of her own mother’s womb… it sorta seems like a faux pas.

Now don’t judge me, but despite my absolute adoration for babies and children - I don’t know if I would actually say that I love being pregnant. Don’t get me wrong, I do love aspects of being pregnant, but its not all peaches and roses over here, there are loads of things that are super crappy about growing a love child. So today, I shall tell you the top 10 reasons why I don’t exactly love being pregnant. (Please don't read this if you are in pure denial and believe that pregnancy is the most beautiful thing in the world, because it's not. In fact, pregnancy is painfully unattractive.
Let me remind you of these two photos:

Also -for my man followers...if you are of the "women don't fart" variety, you should probably stop reading.

Tash's Top 10 reasons for not loving pregnancy:

#10 - I really dislike feeling like a chubby dolphin - soon to be whale - on a daily basis.

#9 - I don’t exactly love that I am going to gain 30-40 lbs and then birth a giant toddler out of my girl parts. In fact, that scares the absolute crap out of me.

#8 - It's a gas town over here, everyday, all the time. And I'm gross, sometimes I am surprised that Chris even loves me the same. I mean, I know how appalled I am when he farts near me, I can't imagine I'm even remotely attractive right now.

#7 – Two words. Adult Acne. Really? OK – so maybe I had a bit of this before…but isn’t pregnancy supposed to clear that all up? If not, I should have done better research before getting knocked up.
 
#6 – All this stuff about luscious hair that never falls out…lies. My thin hair is still thin, and will probably get thinner. Sweet Jesus.

#5 - I sincerely dislike that my B’s are becoming D’s and if G’s are a size… I will likely get those too. And we’ll probably never see my B’s again.

#4 – Did you know that your nipples essentially grow and change colour? Well they do - and it just doesn’t look normal. They’re gonna shrink back right? Oh – and they’re itchy too. Large, itchy nips – awesome.

#3 – I can’t drink wine… like ever. I can’t even swirl it around in my mouth for the taste and spit it out in a bucket like a true connoisseur without being judged. Chris also told me that he’s call the cops on me. Not sure what they would actually do… but I’d prefer my husband not to do that.

#2 – Hemorrhoids. FML. I know, you didn’t want to know this part. But it’s the truth and trying to poop with a swollen little bum hole IS THE WORST THING EVER! On the bright side, this only happened twice. But I cried both times and I will do everything in my power to avoid this ever happening again! I don’t care if I have to eat bland cardboard cereal and only drink water for the rest of my life. I’d do it. Now apparently this happens to like EVERY pregnant woman -so don't you judge me- but no one ever tells you that, so now you know people, now you know.

#1 – Sleeping = hate. Why are there so many rules on how to sleep??? As if the 5 times I have to wake up to pee isn’t enough… there are SLEEP RULES! Not on your back, avoid the right side, don’t squish the baby on your stomach…blah blah blah. This leaves me with one option – left side which faces Chris. This is the same Chris who sleeps in the middle of our queen size bed and who snores in my mouth… well maybe I snore into his mouth. Either way, gross. AND I hate the rules because I can’t control what my body does when I sleep and I’m afraid that I’m going to squish our baby when I roll onto my stomach which is where I ultimately want to be. Essentially this means that I don’t sleep at all. Ever.

So there you have it. Why I’m not so in love with being pregnant. But please don’t get me wrong, there really are tons of reasons why I do love it and one of these days I will tell you all about them. From there you can decide if you will want to pop out a little gaffer of your own or not. For today, you contemplate what’s not so hot about adorable pregnant women, and why they are so choked when they have to stay sober for 9 months.

T.

Wishful Wednesday - Designer Attire

Though I would consider myself down to earth and even a little frugal, there is no denying that my Taurus self really likes nice things. Of those nice things, designer handbags and designer jeans happen to be near the top of my list. Now, even though I drool over both of these items on a regular basis, I’m not one of those women who have the same three pairs of Rocks in three different colours (we will talk about my handbag collection another time). In fact, before I got pregnant, I only owned 3 pairs of jeans in total. Two of which I would consider to be designer. 

To me, three pairs of jeans is reasonable. Designer or not. I just happen to have a passion for the designer variety. I will notice just about any girl or guy who is wearing a sweet ass pair of designer jeans. I can’t help it. They just look so good on people - and they should, I mean if you are going to pay oodles of money to wear a nice pair of pants, you’d better look rockin’ in them. So ya, the fact is, I love expensive pants. 

Since getting pregnant, I own one pair of jeans and I pretty much wear them everyday.  

Tash's Thyme Maternity jeans

No, They are NOT the designer variety, they are the stretchy variety. Don’t get me wrong, these jeans are great and even carry a bit of trend with them. What they don’t exactly do is make me look as rockin’ as my old pants did. Thankfully, that’s my belly’s fault and not my ass’ fault. So the truth is, I want my designer pants back. 

Low and behold... look what I found! Designer Maternity Pants by Paige!

Paige = Love

I mean look at these pants! Not even this woman’s belly could get in the way of her hottness! AND she’s rockin’ heals! I want to be this women! Well, mostly I want to own these pants! I like that they are skinny jeans, with a slight boot cut at the bottom. This helps them look less emo and more grown up - also - super hot. Let me assure you, it is not easy to look hot when you are pregnant - so if you can pull it off. Go for it as often as possible! 

Now the problem....these jeans cost $300. For those of you who love designer jeans you’re thinking.... that’s not that bad. But THAT’S THE COST OF A CRIB PEOPLE! or a car seat, or diapers for like... at least a while! So ya, becoming a mom just got real. And my hot, sexy, designer jeans budget just went out the window. 

Here’s to hoping my old 7’s still fit when this is all over and done with. 

T.

Weekly Whale Watch - 19 weeks

I'm still not convinced two babies aren't going to come out of there. Either that, or Chris needs to work on his photo angle.

Discovering Baby Reynolds

After a bowl of cereal, half a cup of tea and half a bottle of water my itsy bitsy bladder was ready for the ultrasound. Problem being that it was only 7:15am, a half hour before our scheduled 7:45 apt. But what’s a half hour right? Let me tell you.... in the pregnant world, 30 minutes equals like 20 hours of NOT peeing. SUCK! AND to boot, baby Reynolds thought it would be super funny to kick mommy right in the bladder THE WHOLE TIME! Bad baby. Now, I’ve never been kicked in the junk before, OBVI - I’m a girl. But, I imagine the terrible feeling I got in my throat after boy baby kicked me right in the bladder was kinda like that. 

Lesson Learned - Baby Reynolds DOES NOT like to feel constricted by pants or enlarged bladder.  So, like any accommodating parent would do... I peed a little to give this angry little baby some room. Kicking stops. Parental success #1. 

Finally at 8:10!!!! We are called for our apt. Man alive I have to pee! Lady takes one look at my bladder and she’s all like “hunny, way too full, go pee some out”. Ya, thanks. 

(Now, someone please tell me why the heck they make people drink 4 glasses of water only to make them pee it out before the ultrasound?!?! Don’t they know its pure torture to do this to a pregnant woman? I swear they do this for kicks. Anyway, next time I get preggers I’m refusing to drink water for these appointments.) I go pee excited because I’ll get to find out what my baby is any minute. I’m not even remotely annoyed. 

I come back and tell the tech that we are hoping to find out the sex. She says great, and proceeds to check EVERYTHING else before showing us the fun bits! I’m like “come on lady, lets get on with it!” When she finally does get to that part, baby isn’t cooperating. She says to us “I’m pretty sure its a boy”. I’m pretty sure its a boy?!?! Umm, I didn't come her for guesses. I take matters into my own hands and start talking to the baby with my supernatural mom powers (aka - in my head). “Now listen here little one... you just kicked me in the pee bag... the least you can do is show me what you’ve got down there.”  Aaaand voila, the money shot. Right there between two little legs are boy bits and.... wait for it.... A HAND! Bad baby! Its as though, in a mocking sense, he decided he would “present” it to me. “Here you go mom, happy now?! I’m a boy....good luck getting me out of here”. We all laugh, thinking this is funny...but I don’t really think its that funny. Chris tries to assure me that this is “normal” boy behaviour. Not for our boy its not. He will not do that. Chris will start teaching him some proper etiquette the second he pops out. 

Now shortly after this moment I realize that I know absolutely nothing about raising a boy. I grew up solely with girls. So aside from the fact that I’ve never raised anything, my skills are even more limited. I’m trying to decide if this is a blessing (because essentially this leaves much of the raising to Chris) or if its a curse, and I’m in for a 25 year learning curve. Also, I hate learning curves. I am hoping for the blessing, but I’m counting on the curse. Thus is my life. 

Drumroll Please....

Ladies and Gentlemen, the news you have all been waiting for (insert super hero noise here)....there is a big fat P in there!! Well, its not that big... its actually quite a teeny weeny right now...but its in there alright. Baby Reynolds is no longer an it, or a he/she, he is a boy! We are SO EXCITED!

Now, I know what you are wondering. How am I really feeling about all this? Especially given that baby Reynolds will likely have Chris’ gigantic boy genes, most specifically, his large knowledge filled noggin. Yes, I hear your concern. My first thought... Gorror Film. Second thought...my poor who who. Third thought...I’m not convinced that a Chris baby is actually going to come out of there. So, ya, I’m a little worried. BUT my fourth thought is.... I love him SO MUCH! Whether or not we like it, a colossal Chris baby is coming in 21 weeks and I will love him no matter how giant he turns out to be. For today I have chosen not to worry about the wreckage that is about to become my down town, but will focus on the magic. We are having the sweetest, most adorable little baby boy you ever did see, well at least I think he is. Its a little hard to tell on a black and white ultrasound scan, buuut I’m pretty sure he’s gonna be super cute, especially if he looks like Chris. 

So there you have it. I’m in love, with another boy. A much smaller one, but equally as perfect. Best.Day.Ever. 

T. 

Magic Wednesday Wish #2

For this Wednesday, I have a rather reasonable wish. Cooperation. Tomorrow is a BIG day! Its time to see what this little one has been pushing out or sucking in. Tomorrow is our last ultrasound (assuming we continue to sail smoothly through this pregnancy) and ultimately the only time we will get an opportunity to get a sneak peek on what this little one has between their legs. 

So I am hoping and wishing that this little baby Reynolds will be spread eagle tomorrow. Legs wide open! (That will be the one and only time I ever say that - ever) 

We are still pretty indifferent as to wether it is a girl or a boy buuuuuut.... I was in the park today, and I saw the cuuuuuutest little baby girl EVER! Like, I could have eaten her up she was so cute.... and it made me start to think about how much fun I would have if the bean was a girl... and then I remember what teenager girl babies are like and I change my mind. I also remember that I’ve always wanted to have a little boy first, so that one day my precious little girl would have a big brother... something I always wanted as the first born....My sister probably wanted that too. I wouldn't blame her if she did because teenage girls are crazy, remember? I too was once a crazy teenage girl.

Annnnyway, little boys always LOVE their mom - given what I know about moms and boys - so a little boy that would just love me would be wonderful. They can also be uber cute. Sure, I can’t put a ponytail on the top of my baby boys head.... but I could find a cute hat or something. 

Ok, so ya, whatever this little one is... we’ll be pumped. 

So please cross your fingers that our baby uncrosses its legs. 

T. 

The Whale Watch

That’s right, this will be more fun for you and less fun for me. I’ll be the whale, you be the watcher.

In a feeble attempt to share my pregnant self with our family and friends who live far far away from us, I have decided to post belly pics on a weekly basis. This will reinforce that I am growing a giant in my uterus in case you still don’t believe me. Let me remind you that I am only 4 months pregnant.

This is how I look at 18 weeks:

This is how I feel at 18 weeks:

Ok, so I don't totally feel like a whale yet... more like a chubby dolphin.

T.

P or V? That is the question!

In about a week, Chris and I will be finding out the sex of our bean. Will it be a colossal Chris baby or a tiny Tash baby? Ok, well, Chris wasn’t exaaactly colossal and I wasn’t particularly tiny, but Chris does have a huge head and I have more of a peanut head. (Seriously there is like a 3 inch difference between the two of our heads). So you can imagine why I feel it necessary to find out what I will be pushing out of my va-jay jay in a few months. Either way, I’m pretty sure it will birth a giant toddler seeing how pregnant I already look and gauging by the general size of Reynolds' babies at birth. 9 – 10lbs looks about average. FML.

I am also a planner, well actually Chris the planner, but seeing as there is already so much “new” happening around our lives a gender surprise at birth just isn’t something we need to add to our plate of wonders. So I would like to know ASAP if we have a P in there or a V in there.

We don’t have a preference at this time, though we are both pretty sure it’s a boy. I just feel like it’s a boy in there. Maybe because I feel like I’ve become boy, which is weird because I’m pregnant – but I’ve pretty much turned into a gross, gassy, unattractive pant wearing boy. Especially when it comes to the bathroom business – I’ll tell you about that some other time. What I don’t feel is radiant and glowing – that is a pregnancy mystery to me. People tell me that I have the “pregnancy glow” but I think that is the only nice thing a person can think to say when you’re getting fat and producing acne making oils all over your face. Again – everyone loves a pregnant person….. the sweet, sweet, life carrying thing again.

Annnnyway….I’d like to birth a girl baby with my size head cause I feel that would be easiest way to start parenthood (well, for now. Girl babies become teenagers, and I imagine raising a girl teenager will be like living in a horror film for 8 years)…but the thought of pushing a boy baby out of my down town - with C’s head genes - is like a gory horror film, which, I hate even more than regular horror films. So ya, either way, I’m effed.

Ok, I’m not totally effed. I actually can’t wait for our baby to come! AND I really NEED to know what it is because I actually have the patience of a newborn and the thought of waiting 4.5 more months just to know what I’m growing is literally killing me inside! I also want to buy things, fun, adorable, baby things that match the gender that Chris so graciously produced for us in his man bits.

So what do you think we’re having?? I’d like to know, so that I can compare your psychic genius to what God actually decided to put in there. (Not in a Jesus baby way, in a “He’s the only one who actually knows” kinda way). Stay tuned for the results.

Wishful Wednesday

There is a radio station in Calgary that does this “What you Want Wednesday” segment. I suspect every city with a radio station does this same kinda thing. There are very few things that are unique about a top 40 radio station, but that’s beside the point...there are also very few things unique about wanting to start a blog about pregnancy - I’m going to steal their idea anyway. So when I remember, on Wednesdays, I plan to tell you about all the ridiculous things I want; starting with a king size bed. 

I know I’m not super preggers yet (see adorable 17 week bump photo) but C is a large man, sleeps in the middle of the bed and is crampin’ my style. OK, well maybe I’m cramping his style. Who knows. Either way, styles are cramped.

17 Week Baby Bump:

I did read that when you get pregnant it becomes impossible to sleep.However, I suspected that wouldn't happen until I reached the size of a beached whale, needing ropes to lift me out of bed, and not while I was still cute pregnant. But I am cute pregnant (revisit 17 week photo) and its getting tight in there. 

This is what I imagine:

Call me crazy pants, but I would like for us to stay sleeping together. The three of us: C, the bean and I. For some whack psychological reason I think this is good for our unborn baby. So in the meantime, there is something to be said about us being smacked-up-and-sweaty beside each other that seems healthy and right.  No, I am not aware of any research that proves any of this, so if you are smarty pants and know of some, send it to me, it might just get me a bed. 

Now I know what you’re thinking, “just go buy yourself a bed” or maybe you are thinking why the heck did you buy a queen size bed in the first place? Firstly, I can’t buy a bed when we are months away from moving to the other side of the world - hence the wish, and secondly, we didn’t get a king size bed for the same reason we bought a 2 door vehicle. We’re pea-brains who didn’t consider our unborn baby years ago when we made these silly decisions. And now I’m stuck, pregnant, on a quarter of the bed wishing I had a bigger one. Sad face. 


T.

Future Expectations

Hi little baby, its your mom. I feel you in there. Feel free to continue to punch and kick the heck out of my insides. For now, I like it. So, I would embrace this while you can, because I can assure you that once you come out of there, kicking and punching will not be tolerated by any other human living on this planet. Unless you become a UFC fighter. But you won’t become a UFC fighter because I’m not a fan of that. So ya, only 5 more months of kicking and punching for you.

I would however, entertain other famous-type professions that will enable you to take care of us for the equal the amount of years that we will take care of you (bank on around 25 years). Professional Baseball is nice, they don’t usually fight each other and they make oodles of money. And if you are a girl you can be Celine Dion famous - she seems like a nice famous person, a little on the crazy side (so lets avoid that)... but nice.

Love, your super sweet mom.

Scientific Method of Conception

*Parental Warning: Maybe skip this one...we are your children.

Whoever said that getting pregnant isn’t rocket science is a liar. Getting pregnant IS pretty much rocket science! Ya, I said it. This task is not for the faint hearted. For those of you who got pregnant before your partner even removed their pants, consider yourself baby-makin’ miracles! Because this shiznit takes research, experiments, trial and error and trial and trial and trial and more trial. It takes time, and just when you think you’ve got the formula finally figured out, error.
There are all sorts of methods to learn (again very science-y):You can run tests on yourself to find your “prime time” - this happens to involve a very expensive pee stick:

You can have sex every other day — which is fun at first and then its like that job you hate going to every night. I mean, no one likes sex to feel like a job...unless maybe you happen to be a... Nope, even they don’t like it. Some will stick their legs up in the air for 15 minutes after sex - which is super attractive.
You can do "it" forwards, backwards, sideways, upside down... if you want to get pregnant its incredible what you will try. Trust me, we tried it all and managed to fail miserably.

So we stopped trying. Too much work. If a baby was going to come, a baby was going to come. Back to drinking the vino I love, no more pee sticks, legs flat under the covers, and voila, one crazy week in Mexico later... I’m pregnant. Literally the moment I stopped caring, the bean decides to make its debut. Just like rocket science, when you don’t even care to solve the damn problem anymore, you find the solution (based on my experience with rocket science...). The simplest, easiest method shines, right there before your eyes, you know, the one you just happened to look past because lifting your legs in the air seemed so much more plausible.

Good luck baby makers, good luck.

T.

Two years worth of blogs in two minutes.

For those of you who don’t know. We lost the wedding contest. And while I still feel it is necessary to thank the 2000+ people who voted for us everyday, THANK GOD we lost because we had the best wedding ever. At the Rockhouse. In Jamaica. Sure, it wasn’t a $98,000 wedding, but it was OUR wedding and it was amazing. Every single minute of it.

Here is your 90 second C&T Adventure catch up:

March 2009 - The Top Secret news was... we lost the contest. poop.

April 2009- We decide to get married in Jamaica anyway...OBVI

...plan plan plan...

October 24 2009- We do. 

10 day holiday + 65 guests + super sexy groom + jumping dolphins at the end of ceremony 

= Best.Wedding.Ever

October 25 2009 - Tash is a wife. Panic ensues.

December 2009- First annual 'Reynolds Onesie Party' - best idea ever

blah blah blah.... married stuff, married stuff, married stuff

April 2010 - Chris escapes death grip of a snake in Tanzania

August 2010 - Tash decides to get her Certified Human Resources Professional certification 2 months before the first exam. Dumb. 

October 2010 - 1st exam passed. Tash is one step closer to certification in an area she doesn't even work. Excellent. 

October 24, 2010 - 1 year anniversary, wedding dress still fits! Score. Turns out, breakdown on the closet floor was unnecessary. 

November, 2010 - Maybe have a baby? Nope. 

December 2010 - 2nd Annual Reynolds Onesie Party of the year! Success! 

Baby? Fail.

January 2011 - Besties move to Kelowna. Crappers. 

No Baby. Double crappers.

February 2011 - Who wants a baby anyway? Oh we do. Dammit.

March 2011- Wonderful Family wedding in Mexico

.....aaaaaaand we're pregnant. Insert thumbs up here. 

So there you have it. The quickest 2 year catch up ever. Except that we still have 17 weeks of pregnancy to tell you about....fun for you.

T.

Bun in my Love Oven

The word is out. I am pregnant. Growing a human life inside my love oven. A tadpole that grows arm buds and fingernails. Like a LIVE human from scratch. This tiny little bean went from microscopic to the size of an onion in 17 weeks. It’s practically science fiction! Its incredible! Incredibly terrifying that is - Chris and I are going to be parents and we have no idea what we are doing. Excellent.

Now I realize that it is 2011 and I haven’t been so consistent with the upkeep of our blog (see last post: May 2009), however I have been busy being all wife-y, so get over it. Here I am, ready to blog once again about our adventures - starting with this little human project we’ve got going on. Now I promise this wont be like those other blogs that I’ve started... this one I will stay on top of because I promised someone that I would document this pregnancy and while I like to write in an old fashioned journal, like a 13 year old teenager with deep secrets that need to be kept locked in a book, hidden in the closet, its not the 90’s anymore. People these days air out all their dirty laundry all over the Internet, or as C puts it “everyone and their dog wants a blog”. Obviously! How else do you get oodles of people to listen to what you’ve got to say? And lets be serious here, if you can’t say how you feel when you’re pregnant then when can you really? (i.e. Great time to rekindle adventure blog)

So now is the time - the time to bare all there is to bare - and let me assure you, when you get pregnant there seems to be a LOT to bare. I vow to be honest and forth coming about this experience and I apologize in advance to my loving husband and soon to be child for the embarrassment that I am about to become to them. I suspect that they will continue to love me because who doesn't love a pregnant person? Even when they are revoltingly gassy, swollen, bloated, flaky and roller coaster of emotion. They are carrying life, sweet, innocent, beautiful life that will one day take all of the attention away from your sagging boobs, straggly hair and puffy eyes simply due to their sheer adorableness.

That’s part of my plan anyway...grow adorable baby.

Exhibit A: C and T adorable baby to be:

So here you have it. The start of my journey into motherhood (and our adventure as parents). Wish me well. No wait... lets wish Chris and our unborn child well... they are likely the ones who are going to need it.

T.