Well ain't that just swollen... I mean swell

I fear I've forgotten how to write. This stuff used to just flow out of my mind and through my fingers. Now my fingers are swollen, and I don't even know where to start. Maybe I'm just tired. OR what I used to find painfully amusing about being pregnant I now simply find, painful.

What have you missed?
I went home, told you that....

I got some maternity photos done. I love them, and I will post them here when I get the CD of images....Please note that I don't look like that anymore. I'm a whale. Legit. Chris needs to lift me off the couch. Its brutal.

I cry all the time. Like everyday - which is double my usual amount of emotion. Facebook status' are killing me. Its like a Tim Hortons commercial I can read over and over again. Stop with the kindness people, just stop it. I'm getting bags under my eyes.

I've got 3 weeks of work left. Not sure what I was thinking when I decided to stay until November 4th. OH I remember, I was like 15 lbs lighter and still super ambitious, and loving life. I should have talked to more people with babies about this before making that crazy pants decision. I now know what it feels like to be 35 weeks pregnant and feeling like a loonie bird. Maybe it was genius... I come to work and they still pay me, despite the fact that I am swollen and useless and a little coo-coo in my mind. If I accomplish even one thing in the work day - I celebrate.

About the swelling... I can't wear my rings anymore, and I have to squeeze my fat little feet into the same damn pair of shoes everyday. I am also reaching a point where bending over to get shoes on doesn't seem worth it. I'm going to be 'that' girl wearing socks and sandals in the snow... AND I HATE SOCKS AND SANDALS!! Anyway... here is an image of my daily life:

This is me lifting my swollen hands and feet above my heart on our couch. I literally do this everyday to help the swelling go down (as if I have the hours or the patience to do this everyday). Yet, another reason why women should stop working around... oh say... 35 weeks?!? 

Also - my hair looks great in this drawing. 

We've got five more weeks of growing this guy, though he can come anytime after November 4 when Chris gets back from his work trip. Not sure who will lift me out of bed and off the couch so that I can get to work everyday. But don't worry, pregnant people are like superheros! The only thing holding us back is how giant and round we get, I'll figure it out.

Don't I just make you so pumped to have your own babies?

T.

5 Weeks of Belly Growing

According to my loving husband my grammar has suffered over the last 5 weeks. Lucky for you, today is about pictures and not about how much I need to practice my writing skills.

Here I am at 28 weeks. I feel good about this week. At the time I'm sure I felt like a blue whale, but looking back now, I would consider this a good day for pregnant Tash. 

29 weeks - Not sure why, but this shirt always makes me look the smallest. In fact, I would wear it everyday if I didn't think people would notice. Also we started to decorate the baby room. Good week. 

30 Weeks - Hot and sweaty. I nearly melted away on this day and as you can see, I've grown a ladies size 6 basketball.

And finally...32 Weeks. I think its safe to say that stripes should no longer be worn by this pregnant lady. 

**31 week photo was missed as I was in Ontizzle. 

Happy Whale watching!

T.

Guess whose baaaack....

It’s me silly pants.... and its been ages! I KNOW! But here is the deal my real “paying job" keeps me stupid busy for most of August and pretty much all of September, so I’ve been MIA. I also went on holidays to see my parents before the flight cops stopped me from crawling aboard the air craft that would need to take my pregnant-ass to Ontario where they live. Heaven knows that flying at my size was getting questionable. 

Despite the “busy” season, its been a smooth couple of weeks. Sure I’ve barely had time to blow my nose, but you’ll be happy to know I’ve somehow managed to find a way to sleep in the million degree weather we’ve been having in Calgary. May I suggest however that exhaustion does wonders for a pregnant girl in need of some shut eye (just a tip for those of you who might be pregnant and looking for a sleep remedy - if you run yourself into the ground first, you may actually sleep like the baby you’re growing)

No seriously though... I am sorry for the lack of posts... I’ve missed writing about all my woes and crazy pregnant antics. It feels good to be back. 

So to catch you up a little bit... I’m 33 weeks fat, I mean pregnant, with 7 more to go... that means 5 more weeks of work and then we wait for our giant toddler baby to be born. I’m back in yoga... only this yoga class only has like 8 people in it... so its hard to hide your farts from them... good thing I’ve managed to somehow get through most of that gassy stage. We focus mostly on labor related stuff, so its not much of a “workout”. But the truth is, I’m going to have to deliver this baby sooner or later, so I welcome the hippie advice and the awkward moments when we all practice kegels together. This is where we all just sit there avoiding eye contact and squeezing our lady bits in one final attempt to save anything that might help us “keep it together” down there. 

Note: Pregnant ladies are weird. 

I’ve also developed a bit of what they call “pregnant brain” basically this just means that you are even more absent minded than your regular self was before you got knocked up. For example - today I went swimming. After swimming I showered and my skin was feeling a little tight from the chorine. I went into my locker to grab some lotion to put all over my body to get some relief and found my little yellow bottle... put some all over my giant belly and started to rub it in - except that it didn’t rub in - it just stayed white all over my belly and I was like “what the...” when I grabbed the bottle I realized that it was hair conditioner NOT lotion. Ya... I put hair conditioner all over my torso with no time to wash it off. I had to drive home like that. That my friends is "pregnant brain"... and only one of many situations that I find myself in on a daily basis. 

Annnnyway... I have oodles of things to tell you about... but not today. Today I just wanted to assure you that I haven’t fallen from the face of the earth or given birth yet for that matter. I am more giant that you could possibly imagine. In fact, when I last looked at that 17 week photo of myself I thought “I am even pregnant?!?” Growing a love child messes with your mind. (write that down for when you’re ready to make your own love child) 

Weeks of belly pics to come.

Missed you!

T.

Is my husband a baby model or a Glee star? Its hard to say for sure...

Our baby stroller and car seat arrived the other day. Chris set them up for us and then gave me a lesson on how to click in the car seat properly so that our baby doesn’t fall out. AKA - baby safety. He then proceeded to model what it will look like when we walk him around in public. I snapped some pictures then cried from laughter. 

 In case we ever need to walk the baby in the kitchen.. we now know that we can do a complete 360 with the stroller. No three point turns in our house. What a discovery!

 This would be an example of a "regular" stroll, except that Chris doesn't really walk like this...

This is Chris on the phone to someone super important, though you can't see his phone and so it could be mistaken for a clip from Glee. (Note: Chris hates Glee and makes me tape it and watch it by myself on Sunday mornings when he is still sleeping.... so he has no idea what a "clip from Glee" really looks like....aside from actually needing some "teenager" type clothes and a singing voice - I think he'd be a natural)

Glee star it is. 

T.

Prepare the Ropes

Remember a few weeks ago when I was feeling "cute pregnant" well... that phase was short lived. It's back to whale town for this girl. I know I'm not quite as giant as I'm going to get... but we're back on track to needing those ropes to help lift me out of bed.

The other day I went shopping for a few new items because my clothes seem to have started to shrink in the wash. Pregnant people are expensive. And while I was back in good ol' Thyme Maternity I discovered that the little strap on bellies they have in the change room are supposed to make you look 3 months more pregnant than you are. So, being six months and all, I felt this was a prime opportunity to prepare myself for what I will look like come nine months.

ummmmm....... I'm pretty sure I'm going to fall over around that time, so can someone find me a walker? Surely this will be the only way for me to remain standing in the end. I am devastated that I didn't take a photo of this situation because it was hilarious and I nearly peed my pants in laughter... good thing I didn't cause I would have had to buy the ones I was trying on. (I might go back and take a photo for you... I feel this will be rather entertaining for all, and a great experiment to see if in fact I will wind up as giant as the fake belly says I will.)

Anyway, you've missed a few weeks of whale watching... so I'll catch you up on weeks 25 and 27... 26 was skipped as I started to wonder what these photos were doing to my mental state. Another joy of pregnancy...crazy-ass mood swings. Actually, we just forgot... but the mood swings are real. Just ask Chris, poor guy.

25 weeks - still riding the "cute" wave 

    27 weeks...prepare the ropes.

T.

The thing I like about pregnancy is...our baby. So far, that's pretty much it.

You have ups and downs in pregnancy, good days and bad days. This is common.

In the beginning, I felt gigantic, and tired, and had many things to complain about with few things to celebrate. But lately that’s been a little bit different. I still have many things to complain about, like the chronic back pain I’ve so graciously grown to accept, or the fact that I’m pretty sure I’ve developed diastasis recti (aka my abs are separating - also not helping the back pain) and sleeping still equals hate. But through all this complaining I have my Mr. Wiggles. I love him, and he reminds me almost every hour that there is good reason for this temporary suffering I’m experiencing. I suspect that it might be hard to understand if you’ve never carried a baby in your belly oven, but aside from being super uncomfortable most of the time, it’s probably one of the coolest feelings in the world. It’s also important to note that pregnant people are pretty much the coolest people you’ll meet - so go make friends with one. Anyway, what I am implying is that feeling Little Mr. Wiggles has somehow made me waaaaay more interesting… which…makes me feel cooler. So even though growing a baby has been pretty hard on my body, it’s been super great for my ego.

Also, I have started to develop a relationship with my little wiggler. Sounds silly, I know, he’s in there all squished and tiny and naive, and I’m out here all grown up and wise and free, but we still play together every day. Other cool facts, he’s ticklish. That’s right, I can tickle my baby from outside the womb (how much cooler am I now?) And, he loves the sound of my voice… I can tell because he high five’s me when I say hi to him every morning. Ya, my 1.6lbs baby gives high fives… it’s a whole new level of awesome.

I dream of the day when he finally gets out here and we can meet him and tickle him in person and high five his teeny wrinkled hand. But that’s three months away…soooooooo many months from now. Its borderline torture really.

Anyway, I wanted you to know that it ain’t all bad. I still don’t have a top ten list of why being pregnant is super duper awesome and the best thing in life… but this is a start. And being in love with a tiny little person who you can’t even see must count for something right?

So I’m getting there… the list of pregnancy positives is coming…slower than anticipated...but its coming.

T.

Coach love

So this is a past "want" since I wound up with this amazing baby bag despite weeks of discussion, and begging, and convincing, but I wanted to share with you anyway because I feel the need to explain why exactly I love Coach so much.

Now, of course there is a back story that goes a little ways back. Like two or three months ago Chris and I had our first baby doctor apt. We arrived early (success for Tash) and waited in the wait room for our apt. A woman walked in with her adorable little baby and sat down across from us. I was clearly reading last months edition of Parent something or other, so I didn't entirely pay attention when she walked in. Now, like a good husband who takes sincere interest in my likes and loves, Chris nudges me and nods towards what looks to be her diaper bag. IT'S COACH! (insert jaw drop here) I LOOOVVED IT. From that moment on I knew EXACTLY what my first baby purchase was going to be. A diaper bag, a COACH diaper bag. Now, I feel like Chris is slightly to blame for what was about to become a three week long obsession... after all, he pointed out the bag to begin with right?

After arriving home I went strait to the computer and found what was about to become my most favouite baby item ever. Coach baby bag - messenger style. Love.

(it even comes with a change pad!)

Now if you still can't understand why I love Coach so much... here is why. A few weeks back Chris and I get home from work and check the mail as per usual. In it was a small envelope with my name handwritten on it, and it was from Coach. So, I opened it - obvi, what else do you do with Coach mail with your name on it? Inside is this:

A HAND WRITTEN THANK YOU NOTE FROM COACH! Really? This is like the sweetest thing ever, and now I love them even more. Good for them, bad for wallet. Yay for baby! :)

T.

A Cute Whale: Week 24

I've been feeling "cute pregnant" these days and a little less like a whale. I've also discovered that it is very important to find ways to feel pretty when you are pregnant. This is good for your mental well being and overall self esteem - since the truth is, you're still a whale. So, lately, in my new found love for my pregnant body, I've been shopping my little heart out.  Item 1 - featured here is a Tommy Hilfiger beach dress that I got on sale for like $19. A must have. In the fall I plan to pair it with some cute tights, brown boots, and a new cardigan that I just got from Aritiza. My new favourite thing... finding clothes that AREN'T maternity. 

24 weeks cute. 

With that said, there are a pair of maternity pants that I might splurge and buy (truthfully, pants are hard to find outside of maternity stores). They are skinnies by Heidi Klum. If I can find them on sale and they fit me as well as she claims they will (we're pretty much BFFs), I will buy them. Otherwise, I'm done with maternity clothes and I'm onto staying "cute" for as long as the non maternity world of clothing will have me.

T.

Public Flatulence. Can pure mortification be overcome?

I’ve been taking prenatal yoga for about three months and I genuinely look forward to this class every Thursday night. It may actually be one of the best things that I’ve done for myself since getting pregnant. First and foremost, its exercise and its relaxing - which is just lovely when you are “working out”. (Note - the only time in life when exercising should be relaxing is during pregnancy.) It also manages to help me sleep, well for at least 2 or 3 days a week, and I’ll pretty much sell my soul for that. So ya, yoga = good. 

Last Thursday, I headed out to my yoga class as per usual. Arrived just on time, gathered my props and sat on my mat just trying to get up enough courage to chat with one of the other women in the class, maybe even make a friend. I should mention that half of the time I am hoping to make a friend in this class, but I never ever find the nerve to introduce myself (very pubescent of me). This past week was different. Much to my surprise our instructor had us do some partner work. So the window was open. As an added bonus, I got two partners! “Hi, I’m Tash” New friends A and B introduce themselves and we all say how far along we are and there are smiles. This is going well. We do our partner work and continue to talk about what we are having, or think we are having, and we even giggle about the pains of pregnancy together. At one point, we were even asked to quiet down by our instructor! We responded with side glances and more giggles. It felt just like home room in grade nine where I met many of my high school girlfriends. Success!

Near the end of every class, we practice what is referred to as “shavasana” (also known as the “corpse pose”), it's a meditation/relaxation type state in pure silence.  This is generally done on your back - makes sense - but because this is a class full of preggos, we all have to find alternative positions -typically on our sides - because for most of us, lying on our back is not an option. 

Generally, I love Shavasana, that is until I started to move into my side pose and wait for it......I farted. The loudest, most embarrassing fluff even a pregnant girl could make. New. Friendship. Over. In the complete silence of the room, I let out one of the LOUDEST NOISES EVER! Good heavens! Only I could manage to let one rip during one of the most inappropriate and SILENT times of the entire class. DAMN!

Now, you might be thinking, how could the class really know who was responsible for such a noise in a room full of 20 something pregnant ladies. Well let me tell you. As a creature of habit I always position myself at the far right side of the class... it goes, wall, then me. Behind me happens to be my new friend A and beside me, my other new friend B. The noise clearly came from my corner, so they knew... they DEFINITELY knew. In fact, I’m pretty sure it took all of B’s might to hold in the laugh that she nearly blurted out. She knew. I heard the start of the laugh blurt. Im glad she didn’t laugh out loud because if she had I would have lost it myself, likely would have farted again, and it our gut retching laughter, I would have peed my pants. It's a good thing she didn’t start what would have become a very unfortunate string of events for Tash. 

Anyway, I’m still embarrassed. Thankfully I only have one class left this summer. I figure by fall, when I start the equivalent of grade 12 in my pregnancy, everyone will have forgotten. Either that or I’m going to need to find a new pregger class to make friends in.

So again, when I say its a gas town over here, I mean it. It's horribly embarrassing and I may never get over it. 

T.

Whale Watch: Weeks 21 and 22

I've got some catching up to do! Sorry folks for my delayed postings, but its been a busy couple of weeks around the Reynolds household. Family and friend visits, cabin adventures, wedding receptions, Calgary Stampede, tornado on the block... I guess things just got a little hectic around these parts.

Here are a couple pics of the last few weeks in whale town. In the last couple of weeks I have discovered that: I can't see my toes, its getting progressively more difficult to shave my legs, sleeping has become near impossible, and I enjoy 5am snacks. Best part about the last couple of weeks? I feel our little peanut everyday and I LOVE it. Even when he kicks me in the ribs and it tickles - I don't suspect it will tickle for much longer...but it was funny at the time.

21 weeks grown:

22 weeks grown:

Pregnancy Milestone: Stretch Marks. Ugh.

It’s happened. My first stretch mark. I can’t say I’m surprised about it. I still have the markings of when puberty hit with a vengeance about 15 years ago and I rapidly developed boobs and hips and thighs. No butt though… that never really came in quite as I had planned it. Pregnancy, however, seems to have helped fill in that area nicely, that might be the best part of my scientific body project thus far. I have a butt.

So ya, stretch mark, right on my boob. Again – should we all be surprised about this? No. I went from a C to a DD in a week remember? My skin was bound to pop as some point. So far, I’m feeling ok about this one little snake like creature that has found its way to my northern lady region. Maybe I am ok with this because I dealt with this in my teenage years, or maybe I’m defeated by all the other changes, or maybe I am coming to terms with the fact that I am going to be a mom and life won’t be all about me anymore. Who knows? What I do know is that this one little red line will one day turn white and it will never tan again (not that I’ve ever purposely tanned my under boob). Op, there it is - the fact that this nasty little red scar is in an area that next to no one will ever see is why it is seemingly easier to deal with compared to all the other new changes (i.e.: my top 10 list). With that said, when one of these pops out of my belly – I’ll surely be singing a different tune! Let’s be serious, the fact that I am becoming a mom will never change the fact that some things will surely still be about me – like my birthday week for example. That’s not changing. Actually – once I become a mom it will become birthday month. Husband – prepare yourself.

T.

Fatherhood Friday – A fast approaching storm cloud.

The last 5 months have been exciting to say the least. From the morning I discovered I was going to be a father to the moment we saw the little man’s privates up on a monitor, each day has brought new realities to my world. The current reality is that my wife is building a human inside of her. This blows me away. First, I had no idea that she had these skills and abilities. I’ve reviewed her resume, and not once did she list the tangible tool kit of baby-construction. I enjoy science, and am quite proud of my high school biology marks, but the thought of what is transpiring inside of her is alien to me. I try not to think about it because it leads me to think of the birthing process which then causes my phantom uterus to scream in sympathy pains. That’s right…I’ve developed my own phantom uterus. Half-masked and all.

The storm cloud analogy is not meant to seem like something negative is approaching. I enjoy storms. I enjoy thunder and rain. I like the development of a storm; the dark rolling clouds and the sudden drop in temperature. I also like living in the prairies where you can see them coming. Of course I am also aware that some storms are more severe than others and bring destruction and fear. My perception of becoming a dad is a perfect metaphor to that of watching a storm approach. I am excited, but a small part of me is concerned that my optimism may be short lived if it turns into a category schfifty-five tornado. Now, you won’t live a happy life if you think that all rain clouds will implode into devastation. The truth is the majority of them don’t. Instead you prepare yourself with umbrellas, rain coats, and rubber boots (or sandbags and storm cellars if you live in Manitoba or Kansas). The same goes for my mindset of fatherhood. I’ll prepare myself by reading the materials our physician gives us. I’ll figure out how diapers work at some point. I might even Google some “tips on fatherhood”. I certainly won’t panic (I’m not the type – unless it is a fire alarm in my apartment at 4 AM at which point I am the fastest man alive). I’ll just exhibit confidence in whatever situations arise and assume somewhere inside of me is this fatherhood tool kit. Ideally I am similar to my wife who is red-sealed in baby construction management.

Instead of hysteria and worry I have chosen to start thinking of all the great moments that are soon to come. Walking, talking, and laughter are first on the list. Playing catch and learning to swim are next. Through it will be daily discoveries and the chance for him and I to learn together. I’ll get to re-live my childhood and laugh at fart jokes again, and talk about sports and trading cards. What I am most excited for is to see the growth everyday for years and years. I want to meet this little man and find out his deal. What is he all about?

I hope he is into naps. That is one of the best elements of a storm.

Chris

Do whales have ginormus boobs? Cause I do.

Somehow in the last week or so, I’ve managed to completely skip a bra size. Eff. Seriously, I went from a C to a DD in a blink of an eye. I’m pretty sure my boobs are going to start growing into my armpits soon.

About two weeks ago a girl friend of mine offered to give me some of her old DD bras that didn’t fit her any more. Huge score because bras are expensive and when you need to replace them on a monthly basis free ones become the best ones. So ya, I was thrilled with my new lulu bag of Victoria Secrets. Now here’s the thing. When my gf gave me these bras she said “this should carry you through until baby comes”. I believed her. Why wouldn’t I? I mean I still had some steps to go before making it to a DD and surely I couldn’t keep growing at this rate. On Friday, I decided to see how long I had till I actually needed to start wearing these things (in my mind I was a solid two-three months away). So I put one on, and it fit dammit… like a perfect little glove!! Shock ensues! Now I know that I’ve been stuffing the ladies into every sports bra that I can find in my under drawers for the last week or so…. BUT TWO SIZES?! I quickly tried on the C’s I had purchased literally a month ago and sure enough, they don’t fit. Thank god I only paid $5 for those bras because the ladies aren’t going back in them anytime soon.

Now I know people think I’m crazy when I rant about the science project that is my pregnant self – but it is crazy and in many ways incredible that this happens to women. I sometimes feel like I’m in someone else’s body, or that mirrors play tricks on my eyes. I rant about this stuff because I am often in shock – and with good reason. Chris took a photo of me when we found out we were expecting. I think I was about 5 weeks along. I remember thinking, at the time, that I would never ever show that photo to a single person because I didn’t think I looked very good. I wish I could slap that girl in the face because she was a crazy person. Now I’m going to show you. Not because I want you to see my barely pregnant belly, but so you can appreciate how absolultely GREAT you look right now! Something I wish I had appreciated more at that time. You may also come to understand why I feel like my head is on another person’s body. Oh, and here is my 20 week pregnant self with my boobs stuffed in a sporty for good comparison. Happy whale watching!

5 week self:

 20 week self:

T.

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.