I felt a tingle!

I have been pretty damn grumpy lately. And it is Monday morning to make matters even worse. And I am starting to grow out of some of my cuter maternity clothes, ALREADY, which sucks, any way you slice it. I am really starting to get big. I mean really really. I saw an old friend this past weekend who was about 8 weeks ahead of me and we were the exact same size. Oy. I think I need to step up the evening walks and ease off the Mexican food.

So keeping all those grumbles in mind, imagine my surprise this morning to have the strangest little sensation! I got this very ticklish sort of bubbly feeling on my right side. At first I ignored it, as I have been known to have quite a few mysterious stomach rumblings in the past. But it just kept happening. And then I remembered that my mom said that the first time you feel the baby, it will feel like an eyelash fluttering. That is exactly what this felt like!!! I am still not even sure I really felt anything, as I am prone to some psychosomatic symptoms of pregnancy. The power of suggestion is very strong with me. If someone asks me if I have had headaches, one instantly appears! And people have been asking me all the time if I have felt anything yet even though it is still on the early side. But I am just so big already people can't help but think that the babies must be the size of cantaloupes by now. (Which again, I am attributing to my fondness for tacos).

But if this is the real thing, no doubt this is Baby B wriggling around. From the looks of the ultrasounds Baby A is just a serene, calm little thing, but Baby B would not sit still at all! Sound like anyone you know?

And speaking of ultrasounds, we have scheduled for Thursday morning. There is a fairly decent chance that we will get to find out the sexes! Hooray!

14 Week Dr. Appointment

My but aren't these ultrasounds starting to get routine! Today I had my 14 week check up with my OB. But it wasn't my OB at all, it was another doctor in the practice. Apparently my OB's office makes you see all four doctors during your pregnancy so that you can get to know them all in the event your doctor doesn't happen to be on call when you deliver. This seems like nonsense to me considering in all likelihood I will have a scheduled c-section to get these suckers out, but rules is rules.

Anyway, this doctor happened to be a bit on the old school side. He did wheel in the ultrasound only to give me but a peep at the kiddos. I guess I am spoiled, but I wanted all the pomp and circumstance of the in-depth ultrasound, complete with pictures and a listen to the heartbeats. Not this time. And we couldn't find out the sex either, which is no surprise considering my ultrasound was just long enough to make sure there were two babies in there. I guess we have a fairly decent shot at finding out in two weeks at our fancy shmancy HD ultrasound appointment. Sidebar: the doctor spent at least five minutes discussing with Brent the best way to torture cats. Apparently they shared a deep hatred for our feline friends. To be honest, this all freaked me out quite a little bit. Oh well, at least I got to see Jesus and Mary and be reassured that they are in growing and thriving in there.


I guess their, ahem, growth shouldn't come as a surprise to me considering the size of my girth. I am getting HUGE! As my sister put it so delicately, I look like I am six months pregnant. Grand. The only upside to being so big so soon is that there is no longer any doubt that I am in the family way. And strangely enough, the bigger my belly gets, the less fat I feel. Don't ask me to explain it, I can't.

And speaking of big bellies, apparently mine is a very cozy place to sleep for Kiva. See the picture above for a demonstration.

Hannah's Hodgepodge

A few updates on a few things:

We got our puppy yesterday! Her name is Kiva and she is seven weeks old. We had a bit of an adventure getting her home - the poor thing got car sick. A lot. Then we gave her a bath and she zonked out. She showed no personality all afternoon, I was a bit worried we had picked a pup without the required spunk to get along in our family. Not to worry though, by evening she was all over the place! She even has tried to nurse Walter, with some disastrous results (Walter has only one place to nurse, and he wasn't a fan of Kiva sucking there...which makes him quite different from the rest of the male population on earth).

In addition to her rambunctious evening, Kiva decided she didn't really dig her cage and howled at 1:30, 2:30, 4:15 and 5:15. At which point I informed Brent that I hated him and went to sleep in the basement on a bed that had no sheets. Perhaps all this barfing and crying and sleeplessness is good practice for this winter though.

This past Saturday we spent the day running King David's booth at Indy Gay Pride. That was quite an event. We did pretty well, learned some good lessons for future festivals and discovered that there are a TON of WT, manish lesbians living in central Indiana. Who knew? And they all like Mountain Dew. A LOT. There was also a number of men running around in speedos and cowboy hats. Brent asked a good question: "Where do they keep their money?"

Finally, in baby news, we have a doctor's appointment this Thursday that may or may not include an ultrasound. (Of course I am hoping it does!) If we do get to have an ultrasound, there is a chance we might be able to determine the babies' sexes. Holy crap!!! More on this later. I certainly have tons to say about the matter. Brent is considering getting a preemptive prescription for Xanax in the event we are having two girls!

Smooth out your aura

Last week I took my first yoga class ever, albeit, pre-natal yoga. Now, I have always been somewhat skeptical about yoga because I just don't really get all that New Age-y crap. But I read that book Eat Pray Love this year and I have to admit I grew a little curious. The protagonist just found so much peace through yoga and meditation, and heaven knows that I could use a little more calm in my life.

Additionally, I haven't been able to get much exercise since I have been pregnant. Now I will be the first to admit that I will always use any excuse to get out of a work out. Too long of a line for an eliptical at the gym - see ya! My toe hurts - I shouldn't take my walk! An episode of Friends that I miraculously haven't seen before - no sweating for me today! So, you can imagine that since I have been pregnant and tuckered out all the time, exercise hasn't been exactly a priority. I have tried to squeeze in the occasional leisurely stroll now and then, but that is about it. But I heard prenatal yoga felt great and was a less queer way to meet other cool pregnant moms than those creepy birthing classes, so I signed up.

I showed up to my first class last week at a local hospital and I was generally pleased with the experience. In case you don't know, yoga is HARD. I mean REALLY HARD. Yes, there is a lot of calming breathing and dim lights and chill music, but there is also a lot of stretching and holding awkward poses and even breaking a little bit of a sweat. All of that was well and good though and I got through the class pretty much unscathed. I wasn't the most uncoordinated, even though I fell down on the ground out of a squat at least twice.

The really amusing part of the whole experience was the instructor and her guidance. I will be the first to say that she really knows her stuff, has a very mellow presence and is immensely likable. She has been teaching prenatal yoga for years and she is also a doula. And she is chock full of granola-y instruction. Here is sampling of some of the things she said during class:

Give your self permission to be present
Your breath is your breath
Relax and smooth out your aura

She also had some fairly explicit instructions regarding kegel exercises and our collective perineum's, about which I couldn't help but giggle. After all, I am Brent's wife. You can't say the word "perineum" without me laughing like a sixth grader.

My favorite part of the class by far was the Final Relaxation. This is a heavenly experience where you lay on the floor in a completely dark room and the instructor says all these soothing things. It is really quite nice. I fell asleep both last week and this week. Which was slightly embarrassing - although I have no clue if anyone else even noticed.

The other good part was that there are some cool girls in the class and I am hoping to make some friends. Assuming of course that I have properly smoothed out my aura.

Crushed

I don't even know where to begin. First of all, there have been a lot of happy things going on so stay tuned for some happier posts to come on our recent ultrasound, my prenatal yoga classes, and our recent trip to California. But right now, Brent and I are just destroyed by the untimely and unexpected death of our beloved German Shepherd Elke. For those of you who haven't heard, Elke was diagnosed with an extremely aggressive tumor on her heart and very quickly (practically overnight) went from being a completely happy normal pup to a very sick dog. I will spare you the details, but yesterday we had to make an immediate decision to end her suffering and it was one of the most heart wrenching things Brent and I have ever been through. This post is a love letter to our wonderful pet.

Dear Elke,

Thank you from the bottom of my heart for all the wonderful times we have spent together. I know when we met we didn't exactly hit it off, in fact, I distinctly recall when I first slept over at Brent's and all 90 pounds of you decided to sit on my chest to let me know exactly how you felt about my presence. I also remember your, ahem, reaction to some of our bedroom activities. After a particular amorous morning, I remember you chased your tail until it was a bleeding mess and then wagged it all over the place, spraying blood around and making the house look like a crime scene.

But regardless of your early reservations about me and my intentions towards your daddy, I really would like to think that we grew on each other. You started to lick my face and give me kisses on Saturday mornings, when you would lay in bed between Brent and I for hours enjoying the weekend peace as much as we did.

You always did the most amazing things to let us know how much you loved us. Like how you always slept facing the bedroom door to make sure you would be able to alert us to trouble. Or how you barked at every mailman, golfer, or visitor until we gave the high sign. Or how you would take care of Walter like he was your own puppy, herding him inside when he wouldn't come when we called.

And you were so funny. You would watch Animal Planet for hours, laying on the floor in front of the TV sucking on a toy. Your reaction to seeing another German Shepherd on TV was utterly astounding, you actually recognized yourself! Sometimes I thought you might have been smarter than me (and certainly smarter than some of the girls in my sorority, that is for sure). Even your nervous habits were hilarious. I loved how you would talk to people, I have never seen a more vocal dog. And when football season starts this fall, it just won't feel the same without you getting excited right along with us when Peyton and the Colts go for one of their legendary drives. Or when our fantasy players get hurt and we curse the screen, you won't be there to bark your head off in sympathetic frustration or indignation. We will miss you terribly.

Last night the house was unbearable empty. Walter is walking around looking for you. He is so confused and so are we. We feel robbed that you didn't get to enjoy our huge new yard. When the leaves come down this fall, you won't be there to dive into the piles and play like a puppy. I wonder if anything will ever feel the same without you there?

Most of all, I am heartbroken that you won't get to meet our twins. You see, I was counting on you to be there to protect them, just like you did for us. I couldn't wait for you to meet them and for them to meet you. Since I have been pregnant, I thought you may have known, and have been even more protective of me than usual. And now, we will have to settle for showing our kiddos pictures of you and telling them all our funny stories about your wonderful personality, loyal disposition, and most of all our unique love affair with you.

We love you with all our hearts and we will forever. Thank you for everything you did for us.

I heart Facebook

Ok, so this is a little off topic, but I have been missing writing for a few days and I haven't really had any major news about the babies so I figured I might as well post about something else. And that something else is my obsession with Facebook.

I was an early adopter of these social networking sites and I have rolled with the trends as they evolved. In fact, I remember discovering the wonders of Prodigy at the tender age of 14 so I could talk long distance with my USY (Jewish youthgroup) boyfriend Cory Slutsky...cute kid, unfortunate name. Since then I have been an avid user of message boards, chat rooms, Friendster, Myspace and now Facebook. I even threw myself into Linked In, since Facebook and the like was blocked at work. Some social online networking is better than none.

I will admit, I was a little resistant at first to the whole Facebook idea. I had heard my college age cousins raving about it and I guess I figured I am too damn old to be trolling around cyberspace looking up old boyfriends and such. That was until I tried it. It is the online equivalent of crack.

At first it is a fairly overwhelming application and my head was literally spinning when I saw all the groups I could join (Six Degrees of Jewish Separation anyone?), virtual gifts I could send (pink frosted cupcakes!) and games I could play (I suck at Word Twist, but I adore it). It is the ultimate time waster and I find myself logging in at least 2 or 3 times a day. Best of all are the status updates. For the uninformed, this is a nifty little tool where you can write a pithy one liner about what you are doing RIGHT NOW. The key is to be clever and mysterious. You can tell a lot about people by their status updates. Anything too long, written in another language, or overly boastful sends a clear message that you are a choad. This is clearly an art form that I am trying desperately to master.

Finding old friends from college and high school and looking through their pictures is my idea of heaven. It is like getting the chance to walk around someone else's house and look at all their photographs without actually having to appear nosy. And there is just some little thrill that you get when you get one of those friend requests. It is like it taps some deep seated need to be liked, sort of like being sent a carnation on Valentine's Day in high school. Virtual validation all tied up neatly in a one line email: "Joe Blow added you as a friend on Facebook." Hooray!

There are of course some delicate rules of etiquette that I am still figuring out. For example, what do you do when someone you hated (or whose boyfriend you accidentally shagged) adds you as a friend? Can you decline? Ignore? What? And can people see that you looked at their profile like they could on Friendster? Oh the horror! I have stalked some unsavory figures that should have remained firmly in my past. And what happens when you start getting totally annoyed at all those notifications? No! I don't want your good karma vibes! Thank you very much.

All in all though, I am digging my time spent (ok, lost) on Facebook. It seems every day there is a new friend, picture, or status update to read. And if you think I am hooked now, can you imagine how bad it will be if/when I have to go on bed rest. I can see it now, my status update will read "Hannah is laying on an increasingly fat ass eating bonbons and watching 90210."