Week 36: Pregnancy Blues

If they plotted out growth percentiles for adults, both A & I would undoubtedly be in the lower digits. I looked it up, and we're each at least 2kgs short of the LOWER threshold of 'average' for Indians. And yet, yet, when they tell me the baby's small, I can't help freaking out. We had what I had sincerely hoped would be our last growth scan this week. Scans used to be something I looked forward to, but not any more. There's always something to keep an eye on. Nothing serious, just... let's keep an eye on this. Which is, in some ways, even worse.

The last time I had a scan, they said my fluid levels were fine, but dipping low, so to drink loads of water and rest up. This time, apparently my fluid levels were verging on high, so they wanted to check my sugar levels AGAIN. Also, despite eating my weight in proteins each day, and even treating myself to junk at times, I hadn't put on any weight. The baby had, but I hadn't. Where was this supposedly fantastic metabolism when I was an awks chubby teenager? My pregnant body's a mystery to me, honestly. 

The doctor suggested eating cakes, bananas etc regularly if my sugar levels came back normal. Which, weirdly enough, they both did, and didn't. I was just slightly above the normal threshold... I'd had a bunch of dates with breakfast, some dairy before lunch, and pomegranates with lunch, so maybe that tipped it? It wasn't enough for a GD diagnosis, just enough to say let's continue to do low-carb, high-protein.  I'm sorry, but I've no idea how to gain weight fast on low-carb high-protein with plenty of fluids & exercise. 

But the one top thing that made me cry? Being told the baby would be small, and that being the case, may come early. Would I be induced? I asked. Or need a section? No, the doctor said. The vitals all came back normal, so as long as kick counts continued to be in place, she was happy to have me get to full term... but just, don't expect a big baby. As I said, I'm no giant. I was born at around 2.5kgs. I weighed 50kgs pre pregnancy. I'm 5'3 if I stand up really straight and exaggerate a little. So having a small baby isn't a surprise. But having him/her come early because of it would be. I really want to bake this baby safely for all 40 weeks. I ideally want it to come slightly late, even. And since my iron levels fluctate quite a bit during pregnancy, I'm always worried that the baby isn't JUST naturally small, but that I'm contributing to its size with my lack of iron stores. Again, I'm never anemic, just sometimes slightly low. 

We had a tense moment outside the doctor's office, when my husband asked why I wasn't just resting more - the doctor had suggested lying down for two hours every day to see if that helped me put on weight. I completely blubbered at the idea that he thought I wasn't doing enough. He quickly backtracked because we both know that of course I am. I've been listening to all the mindboggling, conflicting advice from my doctor and from scans, eating what she says to, sleeping when she says to, jumping through hoops like a trained monkey - and each time, the advice I get is different. And there's no way to ignore it.

Let me put this clearly - I'm not suggesting my doctor doesn't know what she's doing. Of course she does. And of course she's right to warn us when anything could potentially be a red flag. It's just SO MUCH INFORMATION. And I take it all so seriously. It's exhausting. I don't even have a high-risk pregnancy. Monthly scans are a regular thing in India. I just really wish they weren't required unless something seemed off. It would have saved me so much stress.

So this week, I've just been worrying about pre-term labour, and Googling the heck out of SGA/IUGR boards, and reading plenty of blogs with women who have actual anemia. And they go on to have healthy giant babies. I hate meat eaters. They get their nutrients so bloody easily. I started breakfasting on two-egg omlettes this week, to see if that would help, even though I detest the taste and haven't eaten eggs in years. I'm eating a giant serving of oats every day. I looked up protein, iron, calcium and carbs in every single one of my grocery items and shopped for whatever would give me the maximum goodness. And now... we wait.

For the first time this pregnancy, I'm starting to feel really negative. I wish we hadn't done the scan. I wish I could just continue to look forward to a normal labour like I had right up to this point. I wish I wasn't already worrying about breastfeeding and reflux for smaller babies. Meh. I just want to be happy again.

Week 35: Workaholic Week

A had to go off to Bangalore on work (and for a final guys' road trip pre-baby). In the past, when he's been out of town, I'm happy being alone. I was equally happy to be alone this time, but A kept worrying about pushing his luck, and about me suddenly going off into labour. So we told his parents, and they came over to keep me company. This was super nice of them, and his mum was sweet enough to wash and cut my coriander, mint, chillies etc neatly so I wouldn't have to bother. Plus, she brought food... loads of it! I had just been to a nutrition class at The Birthplace, so I eyed the sweets somewhat guiltily, but there's no keeping me away from paal khova. I just walked a bit more to work it off.

Although it was lovely doing absolutely nothing, I found myself exhausted when they left. I guess I'm not used to waking up early any more, I tend to treat myself to lie-ins most mornings. I feel like I deserve them when I'm only able to fall asleep at 1am, and then wake up every hour on the hour for the loo until 7am. So dragging myself out of bed at 8, or even 9, and then interacting with people all day until about 11pm, took its toll. When they left, I crashed. I literally did not leave my bed all day. It's been ages since I did that. And when A came home that night, he brought me burritos from Bangalore! (How sad is it that I have to request burritos from Bangalore? Ah, Hyderabad. Also, the burritos in Bangalore aren't much better. It's weird - Indians can do rajhma, we can do rice, we can do rotis. How hard is it to put them together nicely?)

Even after he was back, A's work schedule's been crazy. I think he came home at 1am or something. And, of course, I didn't bother waking up till 9:30am. So all in all, we didn't get to see each other much this week. Sooo, he surprised me by coming home at 5:30 one day! He had to work for about an hour more, but he did it from home, and then we headed off to ISB for a nice long walk, and just some good old fashioned catch-up time. It was just like four years ago - we took a cab over, strolled leisurely, sat around empty classrooms, ate a bunch of stuff in the mess, stared at all the books in the library (my hospital bag checklist has only two things for sure - four ebooks and three paper books. I have my priorities straight), and finished up with waffles close to midnight. Omnom.

I feel like I've put on more than 1kg in the last two weeks. And yes, I had a couple of treats, but given I've been walking, doing yoga etc, I think it's just the baby rapidly gaining. We're now past the cheese-belly stage, and into the definitely-preggers territory. I'm so excited! I wonder if I'll keep growing at this rate? Already, when A and I walk side by side, my stomach stands out comically. I just bought a pair of maternity jeans last week - well, to be accurate, I GOT them, I didn't buy them - and now, what do you know, my tops which fit me perfectly till last week are all stretchy. C'est la vie.

This week, we're also working through the logistics of bringing my cradle over from Bangalore. It's our family heirloom one, and I know for sure I want my baby named in it. As for co-sleeping afterwards, how long we'll be able to use it etc... I have my opinions, but they're theoretical so I'll refrain from sharing. All I'll say is I think we'll get some good use out of it. It's too solid for the baby to really be able to move it even when it's one - plus it's adjustable, so I may convert it to a crib instead of letting it rock as a cradle. It's been years since I saw it, so... we'll see.

33 & 34: Remembering to Feel Great

It's 2015!! We're having a baby NEXT MONTH.

Surreal.

I've just been putting off writing these updates forever. It's literally been on my to-do list for the last twelve days, and I keep putting other stuff on top of it until it gets buried. Not even sure why, because I have plenty to talk about, and it's all exciting. Must just be pregnancy inertia. Isn't it great? I'm still freelancing for a couple of clients, but I've started to say no to stuff that'll start in March. Meanwhile, I can't seem to sleep before 12:30am - but I sleep promptly at that time daily, and then I get up at either 7:30, 8, or 9:30 depending on how much I have to get through the next day. Apart from waking up 3-4 times each night to change positions or visit the loo. I've learned to stop drinking glasses of water at about 8pm; instead fitting in 3 to 4 liters between 10am and 8pm. 

Anyway, coming down to weeks 33 & 34. I've mentioned this before, multiple times, but Indians, especially from an older generation, are as weird about pregnancy as about everything else. You get married, and literally the next day, they perform a ritual asking for fertility for you. Then, you're badgered about when you're having a baby. Constantly. Then you get pregnant, and you expect them to be excited - but no, they'd like you to hide it for as long as possible, not take any scans ("They just make you worry!"), and not do anything that would jinx it, ie: shop for a crib or do up a nursery or buy diapers.

Uhm. Right.

My response to this ranges from being amused, to being outraged, to being, actually, quite hurt. It sucks when you show the first 4D picture of your child to their to-be grandparents... and their response is to caution you not to show it to anyone else. 

All of which is to say that I calendared week 33 as the week when I'd indulge myself and show off my pregnancy. We had a Christmas maternity shoot done at the hospital on Xmas Eve... cheesy poses galore; more posing, in fact, than we did at our wedding. And it was a bit awks posing with other couples watching and waiting their turn. But oh well. At least we'll have pregnancy photos now. And, I think it's the only time I've worn clothes that emphasized my bump in the last eight months. That felt ridiculously empowering, compared to the long, loose, flowy stuff I wear otherwise.

Later that week, I participated in - don't laugh - a pregnancy fashion show. I thought this was a great idea, especially in India. A bunch of co-sponsors, including a cord blood banking place, a hospital, a maternity clothing store, and a child magazine came together to sponsor a walk celebrating pregnant women. We each got styled in three lovely outfits, and walked the ramp, answering general questions about pregnancy. It was so great meeting other pregnant women (most of my friends aren't even married yet), and being fussed over by the team. 

Oh, and I won Miss Fit & Active, as well as... the overall title. Meet Miss Supermom :D

That's hilarious to me, because I generally trip over my own feet at least five times daily. Yet, at eight months pregnant, I can walk in heels! On a ramp! And win a fashion show! Too funny. I won us a newborn photo shoot, my pick of maternity clothes, a whole bunch of baby goods, and, my favourite - a suite upgrade at the hospital worth a lakh! I'm going to go pick out the clothes today. I'm still debating on maternity jeans. They look so great on me... but I'll only use them for ahout two months (I still fit in my regular jeans, but it's getting slightly harder), so should I even bother? We'll see.

This was also the week when I got over my gas stove fears and started cooking for real, instead of relying on the microwave + rice cooker just because I'm used to cooking with electricity. The stove & I aren't yet best friends - but I'll admit it makes better, faster rotis than any induction stove ever could.

Week 34. Inertia set in with a vengeance. My to-do list has had the same items on it for a week now. They involve fun stuff like some DIY projects for the nursery, so I'm not sure why I don't get around to them - especially considering I still have the energy to cook and clean the house every day. It's been a struggle finding the motivation to power walk, and my stomach's been hardening when I walk too fast. Not to mention lightning crotch - yowza.

But I powered through, and this week, we finally got down to talking through the birth plan too. Well, my husband and I did. The doctor and I will talk about it today, since A can't make it to the appointment. But the good thing is, there were no shockers - we're generally agreed on all the essentials - we don't want mirrors, we don't want to touch the baby's head as it comes out, we don't want to look at the placenta - we're crunchy, not crazy. We'd rather not push our luck on the squeamish front. 

More importantly, we agree that the best policy is to see what happens and then listen to our doctor, who isn't usually dramatic or interventionary. I did list my ideal-world hierarchy for pain relief options just in case I'm too hysterical during labour to be coherent. But overall, I trust my husband and I trust my doctor. We should be okay.

We've also started consciously spending more date time together, evaluating places where we could potentially run off to for a quick hour or two after the baby comes (my mum will stay with us for at least a month, and his mum's offered to come around too. We'd like to learn to trust them to watch the baby for an hour or two between feedings - we'd like to share, and not over coddle or be selfish with the baby. We'll see how that goes). We checked out a coffee shop on New Year's Eve, and I've been going to different places with my girl friends, or in a group with his friends. Fun times.

I don't know if it's New Year's or what, but I just want to eat cake all the time. I don't, obviously. But I'd so like to. Being disciplined about food sucks. Then again, that's what gets you crowned Miss Fit & Active, I suppose. Not to mention a hopefully healthy baby. I also got some great news... I get to keep our family heirloom crib!! Everyone on my mom's side of the family has slept in that crib for over two generations. I've had the hardest time imagining our baby sleeping anywhere else. My cousin's having a baby at the same time, albeit in the US, but since she's older, I wanted her to have dibs. I was going to ask a carpenter to design a new one from scratch because the plastic ones seem so.. not right.. to me. So getting to just keep that one is an amazing, amazing gift. Now to figure out how to transport it over.

Next week: perineal massages, hospital bag prep, and nursery prep (provided I don't keep pushing it down the to-do list again)!