Holy crap – we forgot the baby! And other weird pregnancy nightmares.

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I have always been quite the off-the-wall nocturnal dreamer. I’ve always thought that my dreams really make for some awesome viewing. If my dreams were movies they would be artsy masterpieces woven with intricate meanings and kooky humour (or just an episode of Family Guy). I think Ellen Page would play the main character in all of them.

In the last couple of weeks, I have lost the ability to sleep deeply. This is partially due to my husband taking up the awesome new hobby that people like to call Snoring (don’t even get me started). It is also to do with me being a little uncomfortable some nights (belly squishing ahoy!) and I think there’s something else going on. Something that keeps me in an eternal limbo between being half awake and constantly dreaming. A Kez’s Subconscious Movie Marathon of sorts. I’m adjusting, but it’s a little odd. I thought this stuff wasn’t supposed to happen until later? I never got the memo about this.

ARE MY DAYS OF SLEEPING BLISSFULLY LIKE A LOG OVER?! Mums, don’t answer that.

One thing I was told to be prepared for is strange dreams. Pfft, I thought. I’ve got this in the bag. I already dream about weird stuff – I won’t even notice the difference. I own that sh*t.

And then the other night happened. I dreamed that we had the baby (it was blonde and looked suspiciously like the baby on the Gavin and Stacey Christmas special we had just watched before bed – yes Christmas special). In the dream I basically forgot we had a baby, went out for dinner and realised I didn’t know where the hell we’d left it and whether or not we should go and check on it. Of course I panicked a lot…pre-parental anxiety anyone?

When I woke up, Husband Features listened to me recount the dream, put a comforting arm around me and said, “Don’t worry – I know that when we have a baby you won’t forget it.”

That’s reassuring, that is!

After that I had a dream that we had moved a strange housemate in and that she would be living in our bedroom. I didn’t know if that was a good idea or not (didn’t seem great for privacy reasons) and wasn’t sure if I should offer her the TV remote.

My subconscious rocks.

Then I had a dream that made me panic. I was still pregnant in this dream, but I was returning to work after a long hiatus. I was going to have my old job back. Only when I got there I was handed a course outline (like you get given at the beginning of a new semester of university) and told about my assignments and study plan. Assignments!! I was devastated. DIDN’T MY EMPLOYERS KNOW I HAD DONE THREE HARD YEARS OF UNI AND GRADUATED ALREADY?! I WAS NOT GOING TO DO THIS SH*T ALL OVER AGAIN!!!

In the dream I was almost bawling with frustration. I can tell you now, I was stoked to wake up and realise that it was all a figment of my messed up subconscious! Phew!

A lot of my dreams seem to feature me dealing with looking after a “third” person or a vulnerable little life in some capacity. Like pregnancy book advice 101. I’m so textbook.

What have you been dreaming about lately (pregnant or not)?

FYI: I have no upper body strength and very little balance.

Pic: Am I doing it right??

Now that I am entering my 19th week of pregnancy, I’ve got some energy back and I have been missing my exercise! I ordered myself a pre-natal pilates DVD after realising that Zumba (at least the way I do it) and sweating it out like crazy on an exercise bike might not be the best idea anymore (at least the way I do it).

I put the DVD in the player (while my husband vacated the premises – can’t blame him) and let the corny musical introduction fill the lounge room/theatre room/front room/whatever the fashionable thing to call it these days is. It sounded like one of those old educational videos you get shown in school – no matter what the topic is. This filled me with trepidation.

I watched the basic stuff you need to know before starting the workout (the 5 principles as they trendily called it). Stuff like how to breathe properly (oops – I do it all wrong), how to keep your posture good and um…3 other things that I have already forgotten.

The American lady instructor was putting on this funny voice that was supposed to be soothing and gentle, but I do admit that I wanted to strangle her a few minutes in. Especially when she wasn’t explaining the breathing thing properly (it must be her fault – I was inhaling and exhaling just fine all day every day until she came along).

There were two pregnant ladies who were demonstrating the workout. They were trim, taut, terrific and a little too suspiciously good at “beginner” pre-natal pilates…this made me feel slightly inadequate. Which is what you want to feel when you’re huffing and puffing and rolling around on your yoga mat (which is still curly from when you got it out of the box it’s been sitting in for three years) like a scarily uncoordinated hippopotamous. And who wouldn’t be scared of a hippo that can’t control itself?

I soon realised that if I thought I had no upper body strength before, just wait until my puny little arms have to hold up me and a growing foetus! I also noticed way too much tension in my shoulders (probably from straining to see the television screen at an unhealthy angle to check if I was doing everything right – I wasn’t). The instructor (I can’t remember her name but she looked like a Carol) kept telling me (and those perky, flexible pregnant ladies) to “roll over and change sides” on the mat every two seconds. I wondered why I couldn’t just do everything on one side and then switch later? I felt like a beached whale!

At 26 minutes (out of 30) I admitted defeat – at least for my first attempt. I just sat there mesmerised by the bellies on the DVD. Very hypnotic. I wondered how far along they were (further than me by the looks of things – which just made me feel worse). I wondered how long they’d been doing pilates for (probably since they were foetuses themselves). I wondered if we had any choc chip cookies left. And then it was over.

It was all a little demoralising…but I jumped in awesomely unprepared as usual πŸ™‚

In all fairness, while I struggled (it being my first time and all) I do believe that pilates and yoga are an awesome idea for exercise during pregnancy. I will persevere and I know that in time I will look like a (slightly almost) graceful hippo as opposed to an uncoordinated one. I’ll be more flexible and hopefully the breathing exercises will help. And I do admit that the exercise endorphins did sneak up on me – I was in the best mood for the rest of the day (which pleasantly surprised the hubby haha).

I think that my favourite pregnancy exercise activity will still be walking, but I will try to keep on top of the stretchy, breathe-y stuff too. Who knows – maybe if I get my confidence levels up, I might even attempt it in a class. In front of people (no promises).

I can’t sing (not for lack of trying) but I have a damn good life.

OK, so there’s this kid from Korea who made worldwide headlines when he auditioned on Korea’s Got Talent (I didn’t even know they had a Korean version until this incident). It’s one of those feel good stories where a young man who was orphaned at three years old, living on the streets by himself after being beaten and abused in an orphanage, discovered his passion for singing and somehow wound up on a televised talent show (making all the judges and the audience cry their eyes out).

Check the video out below (I know you’re a busy person and all but it’s totally worth it):

[youtube http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BewknNW2b8Y&w=425&h=349]

So now that you’ve wiped your eyes and snotted into your Kleenex (or is that just me?), I’ll tell you why that video struck such a chord with me…

I am an adoptee from Korea. I was a lucky one. Despite being given up at birth (by all accounts my biological mother committed the socially unacceptable sin of falling pregnant outside of wedlock), spending a brief time in an orphanage and being placed with a big, jolly looking foster mother (who fed me all sorts of naughty treats until I looked like the Michelin Man), I was one of the lucky ones.

At five months old, I arrived in Australia to be placed in the arms of the Best Parents Ever. I have lived a fantastic life, with a roof over my head, three meals a day (well – except for the times I couldn’t be convinced to eat breakfast) and all the love, support and resources a child could ever want or need. I have plenty of friends, social networks and a great education behind me. I am healthy and I am happy. The world is now my oyster because of events that unfolded roughly 27 years ago. Well, I can’t sing very well, but I make up for lack of talent with unbridled enthusiasm (usually in the car).

This video reminded me that not all orphans (or abandoned children) from Korea or other places around the world are so lucky. I realised as I wiped a tear from my eye, that with a terrible stroke of bad fortune, that boy could have just as easily been me, my brother or any of my adopted friends. How blessed I am.

There are some people (even within the government) who believe that taking a child out of their country/culture of origin is harmful and damaging. I say only if it’s done wrong. Would I trade everything I have to live the life of that Korean boy? Quite bluntly, hell no! Would he have traded his life on the streets or in an orphanage for unconditional love and a family of his own in another country? I don’t want to speak for him, but I think I can guess what his answer might have been…

It’s not always easy. Sometimes you feel too white for the Asian communities, but everyone thinks you’re too Asian to be a “proper” Aussie (whatever the hell that is). There are issues to contend with such as racism, constant misconceptions about your “culture” based on your appearance, and awful stereotypes to contend with. There are feelings of abandonment (by your biological parents), constant intrusive questions from strangers and the feeling that you’re somewhat of a sideshow attraction when you just want to blend in.

However, we all face issues like this (adopted or not) in life and with the right love and support, we can overcome them and see just how strong we are. All of that is nothing compared to living on the streets with no-one there to love you every single day.

Of course, I had to share the video with my mum. Predictably, she cried. She then sent me a mushy email back. And then I cried again – happy tears of course πŸ™‚

As I face impending motherhood, I feel so blessed to be able to bring a baby into the world who I can provide with love, support and a safe home. My biological mother couldn’t do that for me, but I can change the destiny of my biological family tree and if I hadn’t been adopted, I may not have had the same opportunities in life allowing me to do this. I can’t wait to look into the eyes of a little version of me and my husband. This child will be my first biological relative – the first one who will be in my life for me to love and grow with every day. No matter what happens, I will never ever abandon him/her.

And the fact that I will have all of my beloved Chosen (and very “REAL”) Family with me to share in this experience is even more special.

Now excuse me while I go and bawl a little.

xo

Celebrity bump crushes.

Pic: Now that is maternity chic!

You know how you never notice a certain model or make of car on the road until you buy one? And then all of a sudden you see cars just like yours everywhere? Well, that’s kind of how I feel about pregnant bellies. All of a sudden I feel like I have this crazy radar when it comes to bumps within a million kajillion kilometre radius of me. I can see them. I can see all of them!

I feel like I should insert an evil laugh there, but it doesn’t quite seem appropriate…

And I’ve started believing that every single female celebrity is knocked up too. Not to mention that every single movie I see seems to have a pregnant person in it. I saw Fast and Furious 5 (at a beanbag cinema – needed a hand getting up afterwards) and there was this ridiculous pregnant character (forget her name but she’s the character who’s bonking Paul Walker – yep I remember him) who was jumping off buildings, avoiding bullets and driving cars like she stole them (well – she did). At one point, I’m pretty sure she was walking knee deep in contaminated water in a third world country…and she only threw up once in the movie. All in the first trimester. I think we all know what I thought of that as I watched, collapsed in a beanbag after struggling just to walk around the city of Melbourne all day…

I read that my brain capacity is reduced at this point in pregnancy. I’m a bit forgetful at times (well – more than usual), but I didn’t predict the happiness I would feel zoning out to The Circle when I’m feeling under the weather or my new need to buy New Idea magazines (just the issues with babies of celebrities or pregnant celebrities on the cover). I didn’t predict the dumb thoughts that would pop into my head, like:

“Oh WOW, my baby is going to be the same age as Pink’s baby. And the Beckhams’ baby. And Selma Blair’s baby. And January Jones’ baby. And Kate Hudson’s baby. And Natalie Portman’s baby. And Alyssa Milano’s baby…”

Yeah, you get the idea. Forget the fact that tons of babies are born every single year all around the world. My baby is going to be born of the same vintage as some celebrity’s baby. And I still don’t really know who the f*ck January Jones is. But apparently, no-one knows who the father is…shocker.

Don’t even get me started on all the people who think there’s something in the water when they see more than a couple of bumps in my extended social circle!

And let me just say that it gets my goat that celebrities don’t ever reveal how far along they are (probably to avoid crazy paparazzi attention close to the birth), because if I am able to look at skinny celebrities in magazines who are airbrushed and make myself feel crap about my short little legs, then I deserve to be able to compare my bump to other celebrities’ bumps (at all the different stages of pregnancy) and make myself feel awful too! Equal rights!

I think it’s just my odd way of looking for people (or those in the public eye) to relate to as I experience pregnancy for the first time. I don’t want to get overloaded with it all, but it’s nice to know that there are other people going through it all at the same time as me (except I don’t have nannies waiting on stand by or a personal trainer to get me back in shape or exclusive magazine spreads). I’m just so damn fascinated with baby bumps at the moment!! Watch out!

Getting hitched: Does it change anything?

Pic: Her life would never be the same again – or would it?

Last weekend I was honoured to witness one of my best friends trying on the dress that she will be walking down the aisle in. Let me tell you, I am so excited for her it may as well be me πŸ™‚

A quick conversation came up in the carpark (where all dodgy business is discussed) about the changes that marriage brings. My friend’s grandmother suggested that it can be a massive lifestyle change, but the younger ones (my fellow bridesmaids) suggested that these days as a lot of people live with their partners before marriage, perhaps it doesn’t change anything at all. I realised that my (internal) answer was different to that of my friends. For me, marriage changed everything. I wondered why that was so. On the surface nothing seems different: I lived with my husband for about five years before we tied the knot. We saw each other at our worst moments and our best moments. We knew what it was to have a house, bills to pay and a pet to look after (the shared pet is almost like the first rite of passage as a long term couple – a sign of intended commitment). We had to negotiate issues with finances, household stuff, big life decisions and social lives – not always with initial success (it’s always a learning curve)!

We basically did everything before the wedding that we do every day now (only hopefully we’re a bit wiser and more mature these days), so it got me thinking. Why did it feel so different once that wedding ring was placed on my left hand that fateful day in 2007?

Aha! Turns out that as well as a strengthening in our love/bond that came with us both having made such a big, momentous commitment (and one we take seriously), a lot of the changes I felt were personal growth and sudden revelations about myself as an individual. Sounds funny, but getting married made me a more confident person who feels like she can stand on her own two feet (even though there’s this good dude who will be there for me by my side for life).

For some reason, being a Married Woman changed the way I identified myself (for the better). For me, growing up with such amazing role models for parents, being a Wife has symbolised strength in character, equality in relationships, confidence and conviction in your decisions and the ability to be strong, yet flexible, loving and compassionate. I suppose I feel the same about the role of a mother – for me, when I look at my mum that’s what I think of (awww).

Getting married meant that all of a sudden I was somebody’s wife! I was a grown up (holy crap). I changed my surname (the hubby wouldn’t change his last name to my last name – shame – it would have really sounded nice). I started being a Missus. I realised that if I was grown up enough to be somebody’s wife, a Missus who was taking care of things as an equal, then I should bloody well start acting like it! I needed to realise that it was time to step up to the plate and start having confidence in my decisions, confidence that who I presented myself as to the outside world was what I felt on the inside, and the belief in myself that who I am is enough to be taken seriously! I had spent a few young adult years feeling like a clueless idiot, not trusting my own opinions and not wanting to rock the boat. A new marriage may have been the catalyst, but I should have believed in myself all along. Hindsight is 20/20 is it not?

All of a sudden I felt like I could do anything: sell myself at a job interview (instead of feeling like a useless unqualified wallflower), buy a house (you know – talking to scary bank managers all by myself and signing Very Important Documents without much help), finish my degree at university (not just to scrape by but to really try hard) and not be afraid to take risks in life. I was finally making decisions because they were MY decisions – I was thinking things out for myself and not just going with the flow. I realised the strength as a person I had wanted to feel had been there all along – I had just forgotten about it.

I think that getting married was a wake up call. Getting hitched is a big decision that should be made by people who have some maturity…I felt duty bound to grow up and own my adulthood!

I guess I just started taking myself more seriously. They say you can’t expect others to do that for you until you do it for yourself. Wise words.

Perhaps some of my friends started out on stronger footing than me (with more confidence in themselves). Perhaps that is why they feel that marriage hasn’t changed anything.

We’re still not perfect people (no-one is) and we continue to grow and share new experiences – three and a half years into marriage we’re only getting started! Now that there is a little life on the way, I look forward to all the love, growth, changes and revelations that being parents will bring too πŸ™‚

Are you married? Did getting hitched change anything? Do you hope to get married one day? What are your expectations?

See what other 20 Something Bloggers have had to say on the issue – here πŸ™‚

Things that are not practical for a night out.

So, I was suffering from blogger’s block – despite having just got back from a wonderful, delicious, exhausting little getaway in Melbourne, Victoria (that place where no-one is allowed to swear in public anymore). So I put out a little (slightly desperate sounding) plea on twitter for post ideas/inspiration. What I got back was fantastic – well I got 1 response anyhow. The lovely Maria from Ever Events suggested this:

Title your blog “Things that are not practical for a night out”1)Electronic eyeshadow 2)Pet Komodo..I’ll leave the rest to you πŸ˜‰

What is this (funny, creative and slightly unhinged) woman on about?

This:

[vimeo http://www.vimeo.com/22384688 w=400&h=225]

Digitized Eyeshadow from Lulin Ding on Vimeo.

Yes, electronic eye shadow. Besides the fact that it probably causes temporary blindness (and is connected to an unsightly bunch of wires that sit behind your ear), it seems that you can’t actually show it off while your eye (singular as shown in the video) is open. I wonder if it will catch on. I wonder what the boys think when there’s this weird lady standing in the corner of a crowded bar winking and flashing – but not in a good way…

Let me also tell you why a pet Komodo would not be practical for a night out…
You cannot fit one in your handbag. It won’t hold your hair back when you need a bit of a post drink spew. It will eat a whole lot of small animals (totes anti social). I also heard that a pet Komodo doesn’t like to dance much and will only drink top shelf liquour. Party pooper.

Pic found via Google image search

Other things that aren’t practical for a night out?
Lady Gaga, sunscreen, a bag full of vegetables and an ironing board.

As you can see, I am a total expert on what a lady/gentleman needs for a night out because I am such a party animal these days. I think the last time I was in a club was January and I would like to say that I don’t go anymore because the club can’t handle me right now, but I would be lying. It is I who cannot handle the club. Also, they won’t let me drink tequila shots or shake my pelvis around like I’m having a seizure on the dancefloor anymore. Something to do with unborn baby, safety, health blah blah.

However, let me push on with some things that are practical for a night out
:
Uncomfortably high heels, a midget friend (I am available every second weekend), a glitter cannon and nun chucks. Also, a helmet, knee pads, a bowl of jelly (green jelly – not red jelly – get it right) and an old school boom box. Perhaps also bring a label maker, an angle grinder, Will Smith and an assortment of condiments (but not mustard – that would be impractical – come on – use your brain).

Or perhaps I should leave event planning to the experts

Pfft, and you thought pregnant women were crazy.

What else would you like me to blog about?

An ever changing reality. Or WTF.

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As I enter the second trimester of (cute) alien incubation, reality is starting to dawn on me: Life will NEVER be the same again. I mean, I knew this before we went into this baby creating venture but I don’t think I really knew it until boom! Pregnancy happened!

It’s also strange seeing a different reflection in the mirror. Just as you get used to one silhouette of yourself, another one emerges – even bigger and weirder than the one before! I admit that last night I startled myself when I walked through our bathroom πŸ˜›

And don’t even ask me what’s going on with my boobal region…

Reality 1: Time to cancel the Contiki tour of Europe!

So…earlier this year we decided that we would enjoy our childless “youth”, get our arses (and savings) into gear and book a Contiki tour of Europe for August. We were going to drink our way around a few countries, hop on and off a coach, and sleep in hostel accommodation for a couple of intense weeks. YIPPEE!!!

…Now we realise that at roughly 6 months along, I might not enjoy it quite as much. Long haul flights, long days, longer nights, jet lag and a bunch of rowdy drinkers (minus me) just don’t seem so appealing anymore.

Cue a whole lot of phone calls to the people we booked it through, begging them to help us cancel the tour in a timely manner!

Of course I’m a bit sad. I was really looking forward to spreading my travel wings!

We’re hoping to get a few smaller scale, more relaxing holidays booked in before the baby comes though so I’m excited about those πŸ™‚

Reality 2: I am more self conscious of my physical appearance than I anticipated

I always thought that I would just embrace (and flaunt) my new, ever changing pregnant body. I thought that people who get body image issues while pregnant were full of nonsense – don’t they know they are so blessed to even be able to create and grow life inside them? They should shut up and get over it and love their bodies.

I still do believe that on a bunch of levels, but to be honest my brain hasn’t caught up with my body yet! I am still that girl who was working out (hard) and counting calories in order to achieve weight loss and better health! I was making amazing progress and since I went off the pill I lost 6.8kg before the pregnancy weight started to show itself!

In my quiet moments I love my body. I love my belly because it has our precious gummi bear shaped foetus in it. I love to put my hands on it and I love when Lance aka Baby Daddy kisses it and says cute things to it. I love that it means the baby is growing properly and I have always hoped for and dreamed of having a bump one day πŸ™‚

I think that my self consciousness comes from the stupidity of listening to and watching other people. People who talk about people with bigger bumps and make comments about how they must be carrying multiples or “that can’t be all baby – that has to be a whole load of junk food – you know I did see her eating a massive pizza that one time”…

Or skinny minnies who don’t show until the third trimester and unintentionally make me feel embarrassed for overtaking them already!!

Today I posted bump photos on Tumblr (which then posts to my facebook profile). It might look like I am smugly showing off every moment of my pregnancy possible, but I did it for another reason (besides the constant requests I get). I did it because it took courage. It’s embarrassing putting myself out there like that. I realised that I need to accept everything being out in the open and not be afraid of judgement – it will happen no matter who you are. It’s time to stop wasting my time thinking I look terribly huge or out of kilter with all the other yummy looking mummies to be. I can share this amazing stage of my life with the people who care about me – damn everyone else!

So you heard it here first – I will love my bump (and what it means) – no matter how it compares to others πŸ™‚

Reality 3: I am now part of a weird new club

I am now one of the Going to be Parents club. This means constant talk about pregnancy, family plans, childbirth (OH HOLY MOTHER OF…) and what to do with an actual baby once it arrives (you know – keeping it alive and stuff). I like having a whole new bunch of people to relate to (or a whole new way of relating to the people I already know), but it is a little strange!

It’s a club that I didn’t exactly sign up for so membership is going to have to grow on me! I like it but I realise how lucky I am to be a part of it. I am a little wary of becoming nothing but a baby encyclopaedia/walking talking incubator for the next 6 months. I don’t think even I could stand me. It’s the biggest thing going on in my life right now, but I want to make sure I don’t unintentionally get too self centred (other than on this blog haha).

Reality 4: I am completely and utterly clueless

I’ve planned a wedding, made travel arrangements, know how to take out a car insurance policy and have completed a university degree. I know how to create a spreadsheet, how to make cupcakes and how to change a tyre (well that’s a bit rusty). I know how to ride a bicycle, how to catch a train, how to shop online and how to buy a house!

What I do not know is how to be pregnant πŸ™‚

I had a little freak out earlier in the week about this, but some reassuring words from a couple of people made me realise that it’s all OK. It’s not like I’ve done this before – it’s just one of those steep learning curves we get in life – I’ll get it πŸ™‚

It’s OK to be Awesomely Unprepared (had to mention my blog title somewhere).

Reality 5: I haven’t been possessed with another personality just because I’m up the duff…much

Sure, my interests, conversation topics and social habits might be growing and changing over time but I am relieved to know that I am still the ridiculous person I was before I got pregnant!

I don’t know why but I feared that I would become the kind of person who suddenly refuses to eat anything that isn’t organic, starts buying matching sets of Crocs for the entire family, doesn’t use swear words in case the foetus hears/feels them, gets a bland haircut and wears 3/4 pants with floral blouses at the shops.

I don’t start crying every time I see a baby on TV (well not every time) and I still get a good laugh when I see photos of ugly babies on the internet (I’m so going to hell). I remember being quite alarmed (but mostly relieved) at about 2 months, when I saw a child running along a strip of pavement wearing a beer carton on her head (without eye holes), falling face (or box) first, then getting straight back up and running full pelt only to do it again. The stupidity made me laugh like a crazy person. I only questioned whether I was ready to be a maternal, loving mother for a couple of seconds before I started giggling again.

Lance and I have purchased a book of baby names (you should have seen us sneak into the shop looking like mischievous teenagers who were Up to Something) and have been laughing ever since. There are some ridiculous names out there. Apparently you can call your baby boy Gavril. The hubby thinks we should totally do it if we have a boy and that his middle name should be Lavigne. Gavril Lavigne. Bahahahaha. You can also call your daughter Anenome (I can’t even spell it for a start). I told Lance that if we had a son as well, we should call him Sea Cucumber. I really hope we find some nice, sensible names before the baby is born. We’re only up to the names beginning with C.

Yesterday there was a baby (a very cute and very little one) in my vicinity and I didn’t even have to hold her to be able to admire her adorableness. I am very excited about having one of my own, but I’m not suddenly crazy clucky overnight either. I’m OK with that πŸ™‚

xoxo

FAQ.

Pic: So many questions! Let me put my beanie and hipster glasses on and answer some!

So now that I’ve made my Big Announcement and people know that I’m expecting, I am already being asked all the questions that come along with a pregnancy. Right now I welcome those questions because even though I am asked them a lot, it kind of feels nice that people care about my answers (ask me again in a few months’ time).

Did you guys plan this??

We did. We decided to stop NOT trying, but to be honest other than that we didn’t do a whole lot to make it happen (besides the obvious)! I didn’t want to become some kind of temperature checking, calendar crazed, internet myth believing person so early in the piece – I know what I’m like and I would have driven myself crazy. We figured there was plenty of time for that if things didn’t happen within a year (doesn’t mean I didn’t have my occasional moments).

Just as I was starting to get a little nervous at about five or six months, we had the great news! Trust me, when people say, “Did you plan it or was it a surprise?” I really would like to say, both actually! Even when you really want it, it is a big shock to get the positive reading on your pee stick/s!

It may have been more of a shock to other people as we were very tight lipped the whole time I was off the pill and not NOT trying. We said a lot of things like, “Pffft. Kids? As if! Not even!”

You know – just to throw people off!

I didn’t want the pressure of people watching me constantly and trying to decide whether it was all happening or not. People were already on our case (married three years – no kids – what gives), so we didn’t want any more worries! I was already terrified that each pasta dish I ate (or every glass of wine I didn’t feel like) would lead to a rumour!! I concentrated on being healthy and losing weight until the big HOLY CRAP LOOK AT THAT POSITIVE PREGNANCY TEST DAY (ie the 19th March).

Is your pregnancy the reason you’re not working?

It didn’t start out that way! I left my job in August 2010 because life was very tough (you might know the LONG story) and I had to make the really tough decision between developing my new career and supporting my hubby who needed a lot of care emotionally and physically (with good reason). Last year was really awful and not one I am in a hurry for us to experience ever again! I couldn’t focus at work anymore (despite usually being a really professional person) and there was a lot of stress and grief. I was glad to spend quality time with my husband and a terminally ill family member before he passed away a month later. I wouldn’t change that for the world.

I took my time with my husband – I had saved a lot of money (it was initially so we could travel) so we lived on that while he was out of work before his income insurance came through a few months later. In light of all the perspective changing stuff that had happened, I wanted to spend time with him as he was working fly in fly out (FIFO) at a remote minesite and was only home half the year. Before we knew it – the silly season had arrived – Christmas, new year, you name it.

I started looking seriously at jobs at the end of January and the field was more competitive than I remembered. I had every intention of getting a good job in my field before I got pregnant, with the idea that I would work through my pregnancy!

Pffft. Not quite how it worked out! Still, if some miracle (kind of flexible) opportunity came up right now I wouldn’t necessarily say no πŸ™‚

Have you had morning sickness?

Nope! I’ve had dizziness when I get up too fast, ridiculous fatigue (hence all the tweeting from my couch which must have had everyone wondering why I was being such a bum) and wooziness but no vom vom time – yay!

Strange cravings?

Let me tell you a secret. I’ve always been a weird cravings kind of person as it is. I go through new food phases ALL the time, so actual pregnancy cravings would be very hard to pinpoint! I have decided that I like oranges a lot though – maybe it’s a natural hankering for Vitamin C with the winter coming (don’t want some nasty colds this year)! Citrus has been the only real craving I can recognise.

I think that munging down Cookies n Cream icecream is just a symptom of me not watching my diet anymore πŸ˜›

Do you want to find out the sex?

Yes. I do. Hubby would probably be happy with a delivery room surprise, but I am kind of impatient. We’ve decided to hold off on a definitive decision until closer to my 20 week ultrasound scan.

Can we see a photo from your last ultrasound scan?

I admit to being a little weirded out by the idea of posting pictures of my insides on facebook or my blog. I find it very…intimate! I mean, that’s my frickin’ uterus, man!

However, it is pretty cool πŸ™‚

It looks so sleepy - my favourite picture.
4D - it looks like a gummy bear or something πŸ™‚

So…those are my insides at roughly 12 weeks!

Confession: I do not have a beanie or hipster glasses. I have a cute little olive green crocheted beanie (that I only wear in Tasmania on the mountain) and non hipster glasses which I pretend I don’t need. Therefore my answers may not be as profound or groundbreaking as we all imagined they would be.

*sigh*

It’s what you’ve all been waiting for…

Pic

I know some of you have been speculating for a while now (*ahem* twitter friends) on how my life might be changing. I did suggest that perhaps I’ve had a sex change operation and that my name is now Barry or Greg or some such thing. Well, let me tell you: that was a lie. You know, in case you were actually wondering πŸ˜›

The truth is that I’ve been working on a secret project for the last three months. It’s called Project Growing a Human Baby. Yes, all you “every surprise must be pregnancy” rumour mongers might have been right…my eggo is preggo.

πŸ™‚

I have kept this secret ever since we found out in March (and when I insisted on taking a second test just to make sure the first one wasn’t broken). And let me tell you, it is reallllly hard being a pregnancy ninja. Do you know how many oversized shirt dresses I’ve purchased?! It’s been killing me keeping such a big secret!

Every time someone says, “So what’s new in your life these days?”

Every time friends give the usual ribbing at a social event, “So – when are you two gonna start popping out kids?” *wink wink nudge nudge*

Every time I turn down a glass of wine or some AMAZING looking camembert cheese in public.

Every time I look in the mirror and see that due to my short stature and natural ability to bloat up like a motherf*cker, I look so much more pregnant than I am and soon no amount of shirt dresses are gonna hide this!

Every time my pregnant friends are discussing their symptoms and life plans (that include ACTUAL HUMAN BABIES), while I sit in the background silently taking it all in and freaking out that they know SO MUCH MORE THAN ME!

Every time I’ve thought about something awesome to blog about and then realise that it won’t make sense if no-one knows about my condition.

*sigh*

So, if you’re not a clucky person or this information makes you uncomfortable, please turn away now. I’m about to get all Pregnant Woman Raving on you (what am I becoming?!!).

My due date: 25 November, 2011 (well it better be 2011 or that’s just not what I signed up for)!

Currently: 12 weeks and 2 days along.

AND I just had my 12 week ultrasound scan (brought forward a couple of days due to a little scare) where everything was said to be wonderful and perfect and there’s nothing to worry about (for now – you know – until I do something stupid like google my symptoms or start reading misinformed discussion boards on being pregnant – FYI there are SO many on the internet my head might explode).

It was pretty amazing seeing a little (alien) baby shaped um… baby making itself at home in my uterus. It looks so sleepy and settled and I didn’t realise just how much it would make my heart melt to think about it. It all definitely feels real now. Scary, exciting and real! I suppose the “scary” factor is the fear of losing it now that I fully realise what I would be losing. I hope that feeling fades (I bet it doesn’t).

I don’t know what kind of pregnant woman I will be (or continue to be) now that everyone knows. I am excited to shed the whole Pregnancy Ninja act and just be open about my life, but I want anyone to stop me if I become so obsessed that everyone who isn’t pregnant just wants to shoot me between the eyes execution style – STFU already!!!

I always thought I was a little too rebellious to deal with this whole pregnancy/impending parenthood thing. If everyone else is doing something, I don’t want to follow the crowd! It’s kind of why I took so long to see the movie Avatar and why I haven’t read the Twilight series…

The pressure from other people has been intense in the last year or so! HAVE A BABY! GET PREGNANT! HAVE A BABY! WHAT’S WRONG WITH YOU THAT YOU HAVE NO BABIES YET?! (which admittedly isn’t always tactful no matter how well meaning people are).

Of course, our decision to have children (and when to have them) has had nothing to do with anyone else’s opinions on the matter – just so you know πŸ™‚

So…I’ve gotta go now. I’ve gotta decide important things like whether or not to announce this on facebook like a smug wanker and whether it would feel appropriate to post intimate photos of my insides on tumblr. I also need to let the reality sink in that half of my wardrobe is now unwearable…that might take some time…gooooodbye sequinned, backless mini dress that I had only just lost enough weight to wear again…gooooodbyeeee (expensive and new) pretty blue mini dress that has the cool beads on it and made my legs look long…

Well, you get the idea…

Any questions/comments/unsolicited advice?
(my adorable nephew wanted to know how the babies come out of the ladies but I think if you’re able to read this you might already kind of know).

P.S. To any of my readers who might be going through fertility difficulties – I am sorry if this is hard to read – I understand xx

Schmanonymous! Or…No-one likes a drama llama.

Pic found via nut and bee

This post has been inspired by the twitter conversation I just had with the lovely Leah, Bronnie and Scribbles πŸ™‚

I have a confession to make. It’s probably the world’s worst kept secret but I used to have an anonymous blog (So I Was Thinking…). It wasn’t exactly salacious, scandalous or controversial in the slightest – in fact it was more like a weekly (on average) posting of my most silly thoughts, life learnings and embarrassing moments! It was amusing to write and hopefully the 90+ subscribers thought it was not so bad to read πŸ™‚

How did I maintain anonymity? I never put my real first name (it’s Keri by the way – cool huh) or last name in writing on the blog site. I never named my hometown specifically (it’s truly a small world) and I kept my husband’s name out of it, using a very generic handle for him (The Hubby). I also made sure that (in true narcissistic form) the blog was mostly about ME. In other words, I did not tell other people’s stories for them (as it would be unfair – they didn’t know I had a blog) and I did not discuss sensitive matters (ie airing dirty laundry). I was respectful and I wrote as if anyone I knew was reading it – especially any drama llamas (we all know some) who might have popped up for me in the past (when I was younger and less smarterer).

I also had a disclaimer on my blog – kind of a friendly warning that my blog was designed to entertain and not to stir up trouble or discuss private matters. That should be done in person at the right time in the right place.

I never posted identifying photos of myself, my husband, my friends or my family – just my pets πŸ™‚

I just wanted to practice writing, enjoy sharing my silly stories and being the dork that I am. If you are from my real life world reading this, please don’t think you missed out on much – I’ll be making up for it well and truly on this blog!

Now…I am in a different place. My life is changing and I have been growing as a person. My confidence in myself is fairly sturdy (with a few only human wobbly moments) and I realise that I am a very vanilla kind of person, really. I have always been honest, but loving and genuine about it. I have always maintained a great sense of appropriateness with workplaces, social networking and blogging. I realise that if I can successfully run a Facebook page without a drama llama in sight – why can’t I just be free to be me? I do admit I enjoyed my anonymity (and the safety it brought) but I want to be an open (but appropriate and well thought out) book. I’m ready – bring it on!

I know that I am not perfect and things happen in life that can leave me speechless, shaking and completely dumbfounded (awesomely unprepared is a great title, right?) but I do know that I learn from my mistakes and I am a pretty good person πŸ™‚

I’m funny (well in a Dad Humour kind of way), compassionate, intelligent and realistic. Why not let people in my life see that if they feel like it? Anyone who truly knows me would see “me” in my writings and totally get it. Anyone who doesn’t might get a better understanding of me (uh-oh)!

My only embarrassment will probably be convincing those of a non blogging persuasion that it is not just a hobby that people with no lives have (grr that annoys me). I am a writer at heart – always have been. I have the time (for now) and I spend time blogging when other people are playing Playstation games or reading a book or googling all their medical symptoms. I’m creative at heart and this is one outlet where I can express myself – I love getting thoughts like, “Ooh – what can I blog about this week?”

I have many bloggy friends from all over the world and it’s an amazing community of diverse people with lives I get to step into whenever I like. Amazing πŸ™‚

How do you feel about blogging? Do you have an opinion on anonymity?

Please make sure you update your readers/subscriptions/RSS feeds etc for my new URL πŸ™‚