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It’s no surprise, but it was recently announced that Rosie is leaving The View. Shocker, huh? I don’t really watch the show anymore but I had to share this comment I shared with my Sept. gals.
I’m definitely not surprised!
As my grandma used to say when I’d come home from class to see her staring at a muted Rosie Show, “ehhhh. Rosie. She’s too loud. She sing too much and don’t know how to close her mouth.”
I know those that knew my gram would get a kick out of it!
I got my first “Wow, you’re getting big!” comment today. Some previously pregnant friends would wince at that sentiment, but me, I’m actually chuckling and embracing it!
As the 5’6” daughter of a petite former beauty queen, 
the “you’re big” comments were always part of a normal greeting when seeing my distant relatives.
Instead of referencing my belly, back then my funny relatives were always referring to my height. Considering I was taller (and generally bigger) than well, my big brother, I’ve actually always liked being bigger.
(My mom’s hot.)
As mentioned before, I spend my downtime reading baby message boards, more or less, to see how other pregnant girls are doing. On the main board that I visit, most of the other girls (for the most part, NYers) are absolutely obsessed with their weight gain during pregnancy. I can easily generalize and say that it’s no surprise that the NY area is obsessed with image. Almost every page on this message board girls are fixated with comparing their weight gain during pregnancy, as if it’s some sort of contest to see who can gain the least amount of weight. Scary, but very true. It’s amazing what women will admit on an anonymous realm. Obviously, this isn’t indicative to all women in this area– but you know when you see it. The last I checked, gaining a healthy amount of weight is how pregnancy usually goes.
I can happily say that while I may have my own issues, thankfully, insecurities about personal image isn’t one of them. While it has never been easy being taller than the stereotypical Filipino girl, it’s just another one of those characteristics that’s made me, me. When I was younger, I was blessed with that sprawling metabolism to go along with my leggy height. Well, once I hit my late 20s, I wasn’t so lucky. I now know why dad runs regularly and plays tennis every weekend even at 63!
In retrospect, the vocal nudges from my mom about the weight gain in my 20s (oh, that delicious beer.) was a bit obnoxious, but appreciated. I could always roll my eyes when boisterous aunts commented on my appearance because deep down, I know that my brains have gotten me further in life than my waist size.
As much I try to convince Jeff otherwise, I know very well that I’m so far from perfect. And that includes the unfortunate pre-pregnancy weight gain! And you know, all this rambling has a point. Looking back, I can attribute those unnecessary weight comments from relatives to being lost in translation. Ha. If you think I’m big, you haven’t seen a thing!
It’s a lot easier as a self confident woman to walk down the street, hold my head up high and to feel comfortable in my own skin, than it is to sulk in my own pity because I’m not skinny or pretty enough.
I celebrated when my OB told me at my most recent appointment that my 11 lb. weight gain was right on point for the halfway mark. I am growing a little person in there and weight gain is an inevitable part of the process.
Of all the past hurtful comments and having the ability to shrug them off, it feels great to admit now that every time I look in the mirror and see an even rounder belly, I can’t help but be proud of myself for getting so “big!” Now, bring on the “you’re big” comments 🙂
(Ask me how I feel about being big by the end of Aug. I can assure you I’ll be singing a totally different song by then!)
Oh, and I will eventually have pictures of my belly. As sad as it is, we still have yet to replace our magically disappearing camera!
Just a quick update on the big ultrasound. Our appointment is set for May 8! In just a few weeks, we’ll find out if we’re on team pink or team blue!
It’s finally feeling like spring around here: the sun is shining, the lone tree outside my window is blooming, lighter and brighter trench coats have replaced the sea of black winter coats and best of all, it’s spa week.
As much as I’d love to spoil myself more often with spa treatments, it’s not always feasible. First of all, finding an hour to two hours just to relax is almost impossible these days. Secondly, who has an extra $100-200 to drop on a massage regularly? Hence, why I love spa week!
Once a year, a collection of various spas in the NYC area, as well as other large cities, offer discounted spa treatments in an effort to promote the industry as a whole. For $50, you can’t beat that.
I’m especially excited this time around because I’m pregnant and get to indulge in a prenatal massage. Aside from the sickness, I think I’ve been pretty lucky with the other physical ailments. I’m starting to have the conditional swelling, mainly because of commuting and standing too long, as well as the occasional back pain. Aside from that, quite honestly, I feel incredible now that the sun is shining again. I’m really enjoying the ease of the second trimester so far.
My choice of spa this year is, aptly, Edamame the Maternity Spa. I believe I signed up for the Mom to be New Life Massage. After another exhausting week, this will be a great time to relax. Thankfully, with the crazy spring we have ahead of us, I was able to secure my appointment last month! My appointment is set for tomorrow afternoon in the city and I can’t wait.
For those close to participating spas, I hope you have a chance to indulge this week!
It’s way past my bedtime, but I was bound and determined to get these files working! Jeff and I had quite the busy afternoon/evening, so I have to share while my thoughts are fresh.
I had my 4th prenatal appointment today and Jeff was able to make it. Obviously since most of the development has been internal, I know he’s very anxious to share in this whole experience. {I’m so glad he was able to make the appointment.} The highlight of the appointment was Jeff getting to hear the heartbeat for the first time. I heard it last time, but it was a special moment for him to experience it himself. (Some friends rent dopplers so they can listen at their leisure, but I know renting a device like that would only make me more neurotic. Definitely don’t need to add more crazy to this equation.)
And of course, like the computer geeks we are, Jeff brought along my iTalk (one of my Christmas presents.) Essentially, it’s a microphone attachment for my iPod. Because I conduct interviews frequently while I’m on assignment, it’s a great alternative to the old fashioned tape recorder.
Geek stuff aside, the nurse weighed me (bleck) took my bp and asked a few questions. And then, it was time for the heart doppler. Jeff was in charge of recording the heartbeat, so he broke out the iTalk and we listened to sweet Baby B’s little heart. This time around, it was about 155bpm. So very cool.
And after playing around with codes and hosting sites, I was finally able to upload the file of the recorded heartbeat. Hopefully this works:
[splashcast ZYFZ9729PC]
Jeff sounds like a proud dad to be doesn’t he? He’s so wonderful 🙂
The appointment went exceptionally well. I asked the dr. an arsenal of questions, including WHY the hell am I still sick every freaking day? It turns out, only 1-3% of pregnant women stay sick past the first trimester. I had to ask him to repeat that statistic again because I didn’t believe him. Like the smartass he is, Jeff gave me a high five on being one of the “lucky” ones.
I had some blood drawn for some testing– I’ve forgotten already what it was for. When I find the proper terminology I’ll be sure to update that. We also have a few milestones! I’m just about to the halfway point! woohoo! So thankfully, all is well with me and little baby B! And even better, I get to schedule my BIG ultrasound for sometime in the next 2 weeks. We’re so excited to find out the baby’s gender! I’m most excited about finally shopping! I can’t believe I’ve contained myself this long.
Does anyone have any more guesses on baby B? I was positive this baby is a girl, but now, I’m leaning back towards boy. Jeff has firmly believed boy from the beginning. I guess we’ll see in a few weeks.
We’re finally drying off up here in NJ/NYC. Our little town was, for the most part, underwater on Sunday and Monday. Not to mention, there was a 4-alarm fire downtown, ironically, on the wettest day in 30 years. As the tri-state area, as well as most of the east coast got annihilated with rain, I slept away a violent bout of morning sickness most of the day on Sunday, while listening to the pitter patter of the rain on our window AC unit.
In the meantime, many people around town played in the rain and captured videos and pictures of our area.
These are all from my favorite local blog, Hoboken411. Which, by the way, is even better than the broadcast news! Jeff and I are always in tune because of this awesome site. The first two are 3 blocks away from us, right by our local grocery store. The last two are from the fire downtown.
In light of the flooding, I also wanted to mention the unspeakable horror that happened in Blacksburg. Of all the school shootings and acts of violence in recent years, this one seems to speak volumes because it hits so close to home. Though Blacksburg may be many hours west of home, to know something like this could happen in our home state is so saddening. With so many friends who are alumni of VT or friends of friends who have little brothers, sisters, cousins or neighbors directly affected by this tragedy, it’s a difficult event to even begin to comprehend.
Over the next few days and weeks, as the media and the rest of the country tries to unravel the cause of this tragedy, all I can think as a mom to be, is how it’s so disheartening to know that my innocent nieces, nephews, cousins and baby B. will grow up in a world where violence like this can happen, even in small town America.
In the same token, it’s yet another reminder to hold your loved ones even closer, no matter the geographic distance.
Last Friday night while we were in Va. we made plans to go out to dinner with our friend Kelly. We weren’t making plans for a fancy dinner, we wanted to go somewhere casual where we could catch up and talk.
As mentioned before, I’ve been having a rough time with maternity clothes. I haven’t found anything I really like…yet. However, I did have luck at H&M in the city. But ironically, I had more luck in the “regular” clothes section than in the maternity section. With all the babydoll tops out for spring, I guess it’s a good time to be pregnant!
As luck would have it, it was SO cold in Va that it actually snowed. (For those of you that aren’t familiar with southeastern Hampton Roads’ weather patterns, we/they barely ever get snow. And when they get an inch, everything shuts down.)
So, it snowed in Va. on Easter. The cold weather pretty much washed out my chances of enjoying my cute spring tops all weekend. So, I was left wearing the same oversized sweaters and baggy shirts that I’ve been wearing for the past few weeks in freezing cold NJ and NYC.
Back to Friday night: When it was time to get ready to go out, I think Jeff chose some jeans and one of his blue striped shirts; again, nothing fancy. I chose a gray maternity shirt- gray jersey material, rouched at the sides- and paired them with my black maternity pants. I’d normally wear black high heeled boots with this outfit, but because my mom freaked out about me wearing heels all day, I opted to heed her “advice.”
“How come you’re still wearing heels!! You might fall and break your ankle,” she shrieked.
“You’re right mom. I could fall but I’ve been wearing heels for how many years now? I think I’ll be ok.”
“Well, if you fall, you might hurt the baby.”
Argh.
She’s right. I could fall. I am clumsy. But I brought 2 pairs of high heeled boots and my black and gray Diesel tennis shoes (sneakers, if you will.) Mind you, these aren’t super high stiletto heels. They’re probably 2.5 in. heels—the same sort of heels that I wear comfortably into the city day after day.
Nevertheless, mother knows best. And not to mention, it was kind of wet outside.
So, I paired the tennis shoes with my outfit.
(Our niece modeling my boots over Christmas. )
When I walked out of “my” room, my mom and Jeff were out on the couch. It was mom’s instinct to check out my feet and make sure I wasn’t wearing my deathly heels. She sort of smiled and seemingly approved of my shoe choice.
Jeff, on the other hand, looked at me up and down, noticed I wasn’t wearing jeans and boots and innocently asked, “Are you REALLY going to wear that? It looks like you’re wearing pajamas!”
“It’s actually a maternity shirt and maternity pants, dude. I know the tennis shoes don’t look the greatest, but it’s all I brought besides the boots. And God forbid, I don’t want to fall.”
“Oh, well, I’m just saying. It looks like you’re wearing pajamas.”
So, for the record, frumpy isn’t my look. I wasn’t offended by the pajamas comment—he was totally right. In retrospect, with as hormonal and bitchy I’ve been, he’s pretty bold, isn’t he? You can’t fault him for his honesty.
So who cares if I wear tennis shoes? At this point, with this growing belly and ass, combined with the wish-washy seasons, it’s all about being resourceful for now. There’s no sense in me buying winter maternity clothes. I might as well load up for spring and summer!
And just thinking ahead, I should always pack more shoes when we go home—just in case. You can never have enough shoes to go with your pajama-like outfits.
Many of my favorite memories of my youth involve a myriad of smells: the fragrant and busy kitchen, my grandmother’s musky Estee Lauder perfumes, rainstorms at the beach in the summertime, honeysuckles in our backyard…but probably my most favorite smell of all is the scent of blossoming gardenias.
I remember one year, my mom bought my grandma a gardenia plant for Mother’s Day. My grandma’s green thumb and nurturing ability was showcased in our yard with flowers, roses and plants of every kind. Grandma planted the gardenia outside of her window, in between a pair of bushes. Since Grandma’s room was next to mine, our windows shared the same views. Over time, I watched dad’s trees in the front yard grow from twigs to huge shadow casting arbors, as well as grandmas various flowers.
In early spring, we usually had our windows propped open since we didn’t crank the AC well into June. On cool spring mornings, the smell of grandma’s garden would literally wake me up. It’s such an unforgettable scent: sweet, timeless and feminine.
After all of these years, that sweet smell of newly blossomed gardenias remains synonymous with the fondest memories of my grandma.
As we were packing to come to our NJ home on Sunday night, I brushed up against the Easter Lily my dad bought for my mom. All day, in between the entertaining and cooking, I never smelled that lily. But as we were leaving, I got a good whiff of it– and it didn’t smell like the delicate flower that I was used to. It distinctively smelled like a gardenia and not like a lily. I was so weirded out by it, that I told mom and she agreed. Jeff thought I was crazy and had no idea of the significance, but there was no mistaking that smell. It was a beautiful smell the sparked so many memories, especially after such a great trip home.
While we had an awesome trip home to Va. for Easter, we celebrated family, friends and good times. As one of my aunts suggested during the lunch blessing, Easter is a celebration of life and she gave props to the anticipation of Baby B. and a family friend’s little one on the way.
On Easter, we laughed for hours at the dining room table recollecting the many grandma-isms between my aunties, cousins and brothers and parents. We celebrated a lot of good things this past weekend, but one that we didn’t really speak of was grandma’s passing.
It was 5 years ago that we said goodbye to one incredible lady.
I’m reminded by this because in the midst of all the family visits, many people were asking about baby names. Since many of us are thinking baby B. is a girl, I dream about telling her about the wonderful woman she will be named after.
As we celebrate many memories and the anticipation of baby in a few months, I’m very anxious to find out more about this kid. The big ultrasound is right around the corner. We’ll find out sometime at the end of April or first week of May!
Stay tuned for a whole new celebration.
Just the other night, I was laying sideways on the bed reading a magazine before I went to sleep. I was curled up, with my leg propped up on a pillow. And out of nowhere, I felt the most distinctive feeling below my belly button. It was a flutter, bordering on a soft thumping. Since I’m not quite 16 weeks, I attributed it to gas. All of the first trimester was gas anyway. But for some reason, I just couldn’t get that feeling out of my head.
The next day, I IM’ed my friend who happens to be pregnant with #2 and is due a week before me. I told her about the feeling that I had the night before. And in all caps, my friend declared, “THAT’s BABY! THAT’s IT!”
Interesting and soooo cool! I felt baby B and never even realized it! Since then, I’ve been feeling random flutters in the same area, but mostly at night. I must say, it’s pretty surreal!
Jeff’s been talking to the baby regularly now. He leans over to my belly, cups his hand like he’s telling a secret and has conversations. He tells the baby good night, hello and pleads for the baby to stop making me so sick. haha. Poor guy must be done with my moaning.
The sickness is getting better, but it’s still there. At about 8pm every night, I get really nauseous and the gagging begins. It’s cyclical and annoying. As it tapers though, I’ve acquired even more pregnancy ailments. I haven’t been eating my bowls of Kashi Go Lean Crunch for breakfast, and I’ve been too busy to cut up fruit for lunch. Needless to say, I’ve had the pleasure of spending half hour intervals in the bathroom. As I finish eating my personal watermelon for lunch, here’s a kind reminder, eat your fiber!
With Easter around the bend and another long weekend ahead of us, Jeff and I are off to Va. again are in Va. again. I wrote this yesterday during lunch and we left right after work.
We’re imagining that this might be one of our last trips back home before I get too big. We might be home later in the summer, but that 6-7 hour drive gets cumbersome. *hint, hint* We love visitors and that turnpike goes both north and south!
We’re looking forward to seeing our families and friends this weekend, even announcing the pregnancy to a few more friends.
Happy Easter everyone!
My little brother John has a vast collection of elastic waist pants. John loves elastic waist pants, but probably not as much as board shorts. (Board shorts have built in underwear and it has multiple uses since they just get wet when he’s at the beach all day!)
For Thanksgiving, John wears his fat pants, for the ease of eating and his expanding waistline. Seamless thinking, huh?
I guess when you’re that thin, fat pants are definitely an oxymoron. But for people like me, fat pants induce fear and horror…which brings me to the issue of maternity clothes.
Ever since I started the love affair with Miller Lite, my waistline became a distant memory. I’d diet, I’d exercise, I’d lose weight…and then I look at a slice of cake and gain 16 lbs. And of course, once I finally got serious about getting back in shape, that’s when I lost almost 15 lbs and then got pregnant! Joy and joy!
So when we were home the other week, I was quite bloated and not quite visibly pregnant yet. I was still round, but more round because of the bloat. I was wearing a regular pair of jeans and was visibly busting out of them. Since a majority of maternity clothes horrify me, I haven’t had the urge to go out and buy any. Well, my mom was quite vocal about her own horror and my growing waistline:
Grabbing my waist and inspecting my pants, my 5’1″ and very petite mom says to me:
“are your clothes too tight now?”
“Yeah, just about, ” I told her.
“Well, you need to do something! You need garter pants now. You don’t want to squish your baby!!”
I definitely don’t want to squish the baby, ya’ll. 😉
My husband, on the other hand, seems to approve of my changing body. The other night, I wore a Hane’s v-neck t-shirt and pj pants to bed. The t-shirt was pretty snug and revealing for something that used to be loose and comfy.
Jeff’s selective sight and hearing kicks in once baseball is here. When I walked in front of the tv during the Mets game, I was surprised I caught his attention. When I crossed his path again, I got a complimentary whistle and a “HOLY CRAP, your boobs are huge” comment.
So, yes, it is time to accommodate the curves and heed my body’s changes by investing in some maternity clothes. Thankfully, it’ll be warmer soon so I can go the skirt and maternity t-shirt route. I’ve tried on a few pairs of maternity pants, but have yet to have any luck at Old Navy, Target or Motherhood. Since I wasn’t thin to begin with, these clothes just aren’t forgiving– if the waist fits, the ass hangs down like MC Hammer pants. Oh, and not to mention, I hate bows, don’t really do pastels or anything cutesy, so my maternity clothes inventory should be interesting. I’m thankful for the Gap and sample sales right now! I’m hoping they’ll be my answer for comfy-contemporary.
If those stores don’t work, then maybe I’ll have to ask John and see if I can borrow some of his fat pants!
We had an exciting weekend, and one that didn’t wholly take place on the couch. Since I’m still sick pretty much every day, it’s hard to go out and “party” like we used to. I’m still trying to adapt to being around beer and booze in general, and not because I can’t drink it; but because the thought of it still makes me want to gag. It’s still hard to believe I/we used to drink socially 4-5 nights a week.
On Saturday, for our friend’s birthday, we went out with a bunch of people for a night in the City. Again, something Jeff and I haven’t done ourselves in a long time. (Jeff hates the chaos of the city and prefers staying in our neighborhood) I personally adore the City and can’t get enough of it. It was the birthday girl’s (Happy Birthday, Lisa!) choice to have Cajun for dinner and to listen to some jazz afterwards. We all had a fun time at Acme in the Village where Jeff was excited to see they served PBR in the can. Jeff’s uncle would’ve been proud 🙂
Jazz at Terra Blues was also a fun time, however I felt very old because I couldn’t get over how loud it was. We found a group of tables right in front of the stage and enjoyed the T Blues Band. When we sat down and got situated, everyone put their coats in the corner. When a friend asked if I wanted to put my coat in the corner, I instinctively said no and that I’d rather hold it on my lap. Since I knew our front row location would be extremely loud, I explained to a few friends that I’d rather keep my coat on my lap as sort of a buffer for the baby. My friend was surprised and said she would have never thought of that. I surprised myself for even thinking of that. (Not that my coat would’ve done much, I was being overzealous I guess.) We spent less than 2 hours at the jazz club, so the noise level and time wouldn’t be enough to do any real damage. However, it ended up being ridiculously loud at some points, I almost had to get up and excuse myself because I felt somewhat uncomfortable. All in all, it wasn’t too bad and I had a wonderful time. I imagine nights out in the city will be scarce in the future, so it was a great way to enjoy time with good friends.
Sunday was the long awaited opening day of baseball! As a diehard Mets fan, Jeff was on his toes in anticipation for that first pitch. It was a long winter after the Mets thrilling season, but sad ending last year. We try and hit at least a handful of games every season, aiming to attend more games than the previous year. This year, since I won’t be able to fit into my regular Mets t-shirts, I did a little research and found a perfect substitute.
After the opening game and defeating the reigning World Series champs last night, the Mets, as expected, look awesome! My pregnancy is going to coincide with baseball season, and hopefully with the post season. I should know, Jeff was calculating my due date and possible playoff dates.
Lovingly, he said he was scared he’d have to miss the Mets playoff games if delivery and the playoff games coincided.
Thankfully, according to Jeff, the baby will conveniently be born at the end of the regular season.
If that isn’t love, I don’t know what is!
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