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.