Filed under: Pregnancy | Tags: 11 weeks, baby names, boy names, girl names, Pregnancy
So, it’s really early to talk about baby names. I’m only 11 weeks along. But as a mother-to-be, don’t we always start thinking of everything early? Besides, I know that I’m really going to have to work on my husband to get him to like any of my girl names.
Boy names are easy. There are only a handful that we like, and we actually agree on them. I like my boy names short and strong. I also tend to like some of the old-fashioned ones, but I’m not sure they work anymore.
Girl names are more difficult. Dear Husband likes very plain, simple, nothing-to-them names. I think they’re fine. Really. I don’t want to offend anyone whose name is Kate, or Sarah, or Ali. They’re good names, just not for my babies.
The name has to fit the child, yes, but even if you wait until they’re a couple days old, you still can’t really tell that early. I think 90% of the time, children grow into their names. They become a Daisy, or Carmen, or Sadie, and so on. I like my girl names to be feminine. But I also don’t want them to be overused. I loved Emma, and then 3 years ago EVERY little girl was named Emma. (Or Madison…) But I love names with E’s and L’s. For example: Leila, Lorelai, Lili (Liliana), Ella, Avonlea, Evie (Evelyn). I also like names that I can imagine a daughter of mine having, names with spunk and personality: Bridget and Lizzie.
But Dear Husband doesn’t quite appreciate those names yet. Maybe I’ll do what someone I know did: her husband couldn’t agree on any names so in the last few weeks she just started calling the baby by her favorite name and it grew on him until that was just the way it was. But we’ve got plenty of time. According to my ‘baby ticker’ that is supposed to excite me but actually just makes me kind of depressed, I still have 204 days to go. We’ll find out the baby’s gender when I’m sixteen weeks, which will be the very beginning of September. Until then, any arguing is just moot.
Last week I went in for my first Doctor’s visit at 8 weeks. Besides being just the most wonderful man, Doc decided that we would do another early ultrasound. I’d done one at 4 1/2 weeks to make sure that it was growing in my uterus. (Last year I had a dangerous tubal pregnancy that ruptured. not good.) We were reassured that it was where it should be and quite content, but Doc thought it would be nice just to do another one to allay any worries. We had to do the ultrasound vaginally, because 8 weeks is still pretty early, but I’m getting pretty used to dropping my drawers now.
It was amazing. We saw the baby, and that wasn’t such a big deal as it looks like a lumpy bean, but then Doc pointed out to me where the heart was. It was just this little, fast fluttering. In and out, In and out. Man, and people wonder when it becomes a life…
Baby’s First Picture!
It sounds so silly to think that it was such a big deal, but it was. The little alien life-form with a tail (tail!?!) is now my little cherry baby, growing arms and legs, with a little, tiny hummingbird heart. Dear Hubby just kept saying “2/3 of an inch? That’s all? 2/3 of an inch?” like he couldn’t fathom that something that tiny was causing so much change in our lives already.
I was glowingly happy. I had to call my mom and dad and sister and tell them all that “my baby has a heartbeat, and kind of some arms, and I saw it and I HAVE A PICTURE!”. My sister was jealous. She says that with her next baby (she has three) she’s going to say she’s worried so that they’ll give her a way early ultrasound, too, so that she can be reassured. Once you hear or see the baby’s heartbeat, the chances of miscarrying are much less because everything is functioning properly. My sister drew the diagram you see above to give me a clearer picture of head, shoulder bump, spine, etc. I particularly loved the ‘actual size with bedroom’ part.
Aah. My baby has a heartbeat.
I was having a chat the other day with a former student who is now all grown up. He brought up two people we both knew who had come together to form an unlikely couple. We marveled over how dissimilar they are: she is like the 50’s girl in a poodle skirt and ponytail cheering on the home team, studying her geometry at night and waiting for her College Freshman boyfriend to ‘pin her’. The boy, on the other hand, seems completely not her type: rebellious, punkish, outspoken, too much attitude. We thought that they didn’t match as a couple, until I put him in a 50’s picture and then suddenly it all clicked. He’s the Rebel in jeans and a t-shirt under a leather jacket, with a smooth hairdo, a loud mouth, and an issue with authority but a soft-heart inside. Once we saw him in that light, we realized how perfect the two actually are for each other. Very Gidget and MoonDoggy; West Side Story; that kind of thing. That’s when I realized the hidden truth: by putting ourselves into a 50’s standard archetype, we can see who we really are underneath it all.
We spent the rest of the conversation trying to figure out who we would be. He is definitely the friendly guy with all the jokes, lots of casual dates, riding in the back of the convertible and cracking up the gals who just can’t get enough of him.
But here was my predicament: I knew who my teenager self would have been, but what about the person I am now? Who would she be in the 50’s? My teen self would have been the likable, friendly girl that knew how to mix socializing and homework, had crushes on Good Guys, and was the standard back-up for any neighborhood guy who needed advice. The neighborhood Molly Sue that was just swell. But who am I now? Sometimes it feels like I am hidden underneath this new adult who works and teaches and stresses out and doesn’t have time for lots of the things she used to love. When I told my friend about that and about my teen version, he disagreed. He made me realize that I probably just have a separated view of myself because I see these two opposites; since he’s only known my adult self he is able to see the adult that the girl has grown into, rather than two separate people. So who am I in the 50’s world?
I’m the young-twenties teacher with the pencil skirt, hose and heels; hair in a loose roll and occasional spunky glasses and a new baby (I just couldn’t picture a pregnant 50’s woman… how odd) and a working husband. I’m proper and adult with a great, charming smile, and all my students love me. And best of all, I still shock everyone when I show up at the ice cream parlor in jeans, share a banana split with my husband, and rock the socks of the town at the dance that night.
You know, I don’t mind growing up if I can do it 50’s style.
Ugg. I’ve discovered the full-hatred of morning sickness. I fully apologize to my mother if I caused her any of this kind of slow torture. But on the bright side, I kind of think I was worth it even if I did, so maybe this kid will turn out all right, too.
Here is the interesting paradox I’ve discovered. In the midst of groaning prostrate on the bathroom floor with my stomach feeling distended and my liver trying to kiss my tonsils, the only way to stop it is to eat something. Yes. It is the only cure. Vomitting is just momentary pleasure and relief before the pain returns. Can you imagine this? Your last meal (hah! I’d be lucky if I could eat a full one!) is about to come up, and the only way to stop it is to shove more food down there. Could you do it? It’s as backward as thinking that the only way to stop the toilet from overflowing is to sit on top of it and hope your buttcheeks provide enough overlap that nothing can squirt out. It will never work, no matter how many quarter-pounders you have relocated to your thighs!
(momentary half-apology; If I have to feel sick and squeamish, I feel no qualms about making you feel the same way. But I’ll say I’m sorry anyway.)
But it is true. Eating something makes everything better. Usually. It’s hard to do, and weird to think, but hey, I didn’t design the digestive system; I’m just reporting the facts.
Well, love to you all. I’m starting to feel queasy again, so I guess I’d better find something to munch on.One more thought: it’s totally not fair that when I finally have the excuse to eat anything I want, I can’t stomach the thought of any of it. That AND the thought that I’m already going to gain weight. While food is my only source of relief at the moment, it’s also one of the things I’m coming to dread.
I don’t like to be completely negative though, so to end with, here’s a little treat I found on Maureen Johnson’s blog. She talks about feeling crappy and then says “but I know what to do when I’m feeling this way — I take my vitamin A.B.B.A. and I feel the awesome flood my veins and revivify me. There is no way not to love a video like this, with its Brady Bunch graphics, creeping-killer-fog soft focus, excellent use of chairs, and pointless jumping, and dancing that I can recreate. If you are in any way under the weather or put upon by life today, watch this at once!” Thanks, Maureen!
Being pregnant and not feeling good for more than an hour at a time, I’ve been spending a lot of time mindlessly surfing the internet. Have you ever played the link game? I go to one site I like and click on a link to another new site and then find another new site through that one and so on. It’s like the Six Degrees of Kevin Bacon, kind of. Now that I’ve typed that I realize that it’s really kind of not, except that one thing leads to another. Eh.
Anyway, this last round of Site Surfing made me aware of Jezebel.com. Which then in turn turned me on to Sarah Haskins of currentTv’s infomania. I love her. Just tell you that now. But the truth is, I see myself in what she’s talking about. Here, take a gander at some of her clips:
[deleted because having it play automatically was annoying. I’ll put the link back in soon.]
Haven’t we all watched those wedding shows? In fact, in my mindless boredom, I kind of wish I had TV so that I could watch those bride shows and baby shows and home decorating shows. What kind of woman am I?
And the great one, the yogurt clip:
[same as above]
I have 24 Activia yogurts in my fridge right now. Yeah. But hey, I never had them before. I have them because pregnancy seriously messes up anyone’s digestive system. This baby better be worth it. But, back to the point, those commercials are kind of pathetic now that I see it Sarah’s way.
But in the end, shouldn’t we just be whatever we are? If I’m a woman who doesn’t like shoe-shopping and weddings, I shouldn’t let society tell me that I’m wrong. But at the same time, if I DO happen to love those horrible wedding shows because they’re so wonderfully horrible and show us the cattiness that lives in us all, and if I DO like digestion-friendly yogurt and live off of rotisserie chickens when I diet, well, I shouldn’t feel bad about it either just because Sarah pointed out the absurdity of it. We should just be allowed to want what we want. Because most of the time, we don’t even know what that is, and it’s hard enough to figure it out without then feeling bad about it.
Ok. End rant. But I’ll definitely be keeping an eye on Sarah Haskins in the future. I love that woman!
Filed under: Uncategorized
Alright, embedding the video doesn’t seem to work on some browsers, so here’s the link if the movie does not appear below. My First Video