I’m sure my mom is cringing when she’s reading this, and I’m sorry that I talk about my gas so much … but if we can’t laugh about this together, then it’s no fun in the first place.
I just farted, I know thats surprising, but the best part is – it was SO LOUD that I actually startled the baby. It Jumped. I scared my child with my gas.
This parenting this is going to be AWESOME. Bring it on. I’ve got gas.
(Fast forward 15 years)
I’m sorry, you’re past curfew why? Uh huh, and did I forget to tell your friends that when I was pregnant with you I FARTED SO LOUD THAT YOU JUMPED in scared reaction to the ENORMOUS sound output?!? Maybe I should let them all know about how my BOOBS LEAKED EVERYDAY when I was pregnant with you and how often I had to CHANGE MY SHIRT because of the leaking. Or maybe we could mention to them that I FARTED IN MY DOCTORS FACE, LITERALLY. Actually, yes … let’s tell them about the time when your dad and I were trying to be intimate and I FARTED in the middle of everything, because you kept KICKING MY INTESTINES. Yeah. Go to your room.

Peeping belly button

It happened.

You know the episode of Friends when Rachel is pregnant? And she’s wearing a tank top that hardly covers her belly because it’s so hot outside … yea I remember thinking how gross that was.

Except that now it happened to me. Not even Aaron’s sweatshirts cover my belly. And I wore one out in public today – because I didn’t know any better. Not until I went to adjust my shirt and I felt skin before I felt fabric.

MORTIFIED. <—— That was me. And it’s not like I can suck it in and deal with it until I get home … no - there is no “sucking in” at this point in the pregnancy. I don’t think I even know where those muscles went. What with all the stretching and the kicking and the baby developing … do I even have stomach muscles??? And it’s even to the point, wardrobe wise, that the maternity jeans I bought a few months ago - you know the ones … with the HUGE elastic semi-circle for the protruding abdomen - yea, those don’t even fit right now. I am so uncomfortable. I just want to sit in my pajama pants without a bra on and uncle Frank’s 4XL t-shirt from bowling league… (SIDE NOTE) As I mentioned before, we’re getting our roof redone this week - and thats going very well, thanks, but … uh … they haven’t put the new roof back ON yet, I’m not sure what is on actually - I just know it’s not finished, and it’s raining here, alot. And I keep hearing this sound like there’s a leak - but I can’t find it. And it’s driving me insane. Just so you know. (END SIDE NOTE) So anywho - chalk that up to another embarassing pregnancy moment, in public. Very nice. I wonder what this baby will think in 18 years when we show him/her what I went through while I was pregnant … hopefully they’ll still love me. But I can’t blame them for wanting to crawl in a whole and hide for the next 5 years - I mean, I did publish this stuff on the internet, the WORLD WIDE WEB, that has to be embarassing for some people. Obviously not me, I really could care less what the WORLD WIDE WEB thought of my farting episodes or the fact that my boobs leak and that peeing is the BEST reliefe there is in a day … no, I’d have to say that it doesn’t matter to me, personally. And hopefully it won’t matter to the baby either. If it does, matter, to the baby … Baby, I’m sorry. But Mommy still loves you.

You know you’re pregnant when …

You know you’re pregnant when:

– You’re in public and you lift your shirt up to expose your belly because you’re hot, very, very hot and it’s cool outside. It would only make sense that you would expose your belly.

– You use the public restroom so much in the hour you’re shopping you actually get to know the janitor who’s been cleaning the bathroom since you started frequenting it.

– You have to find alternative ways to “clean up” after going to the bathroom – nice way of saying “wiping” because there’s a mountain in the way and you’re arms don’t grow during pregnancy, only the belly.

– You check your shirt, inside out, every morning for leaks.

– You consistently wake up at 3:30 to pee. Then again at 4:30 and then again at 7:30 – by then you’re actually awake and in order not to disturb the still sleeping husband, you start to clean. In the morning. At 7:30. With the cleaning.

– You have no joint at which to bend from at the waist. There is no bending. At all.

– You giggle when you see your toes.

– You can’t find your belly button.

– Chewing ice cream is the best past time EVER!

– You fart. Period.

– You burp after being in the same room as something carbonated.

– You need assistance to get up from the sitting, laying, kneeling positions. I’m lying – you need assistance to get up period.

– Anything baby is worth giggling about, or crying about, or dreaming about.

– You find your old dolls you used to play house with and resume where you left off, with the playing of the house with the dolls … you might even “try on” the new outfits, just to make sure.

– You rock yourself to sleep every night in the rocking chair.

– Naptime is more important than the Internet. (I know, I know, I’m terrible)

– You feel free to speak your mind in any given situation. I mean why not, people feel free to give you unsolicited advice DAILY; you should be able to return the favor. Sometimes you’re even nice.

– You cry because your husband said hello. And didn’t you know that’s the magic word, EVERY SINGLE DAY – and he still says hello EVERY SINGLE DAY.

– You make 3 main dishes for dinner because at some point in the cooking process all 3 sounded SO good.

– Arby’s and Wendy’s should be paying YOU to drink their milkshakes.

– You drive all the way out to Grand Rapids for a drink from your favorite coffee house. (Yeah, you know you’re definitely pregnant then)

Good days

Today is a very good day. I think it has something to do with the fact that the baby has actually been sleeping for more than 10 minutes at a time today – and its feet aren’t lodged in my diaphragm – so I can breathe.


I also think it has something to do with the fact that I had a maternity massage this morning. I love my maternity massages, I get one every month – it’s like Heaven. I get to lie on my belly. HA! They have this special pillow – called the Prego Pillow, and it has all the right padding so I can lie on my stomach, for an hour.

And I CAN BREATHE! And I got to LAY ON MY STOMACH for an HOUR! Well, not the whole hour – but most of it. There is a God.

I’m having such a good day, in fact, that I’m treating myself to a diet Pepsi in the middle of the freakin day. I’m not afraid of caffeine, I just don’t drink pop, at all – unless we’re out and they have dr. pepper at the restaurant. But today; Today is a good day – and I’m drinking pop in the afternoon!

I think most of all though, what I can credit this awesomeness in my attitude to is the fact that I went on an anti depressant about a month ago and we’re finally seeing the constant effect of the medicine. I got to the point of no return. Waking up was torture on a daily basis for me. And trying to get to sleep was anxiety ridden with fear and horror about what was to come tomorrow.

I do know from my past that we took action before it got too bad – being proactive rather than reactive is the smartest way to be when you’re dealing with depression or anxiety.

So here I am, feeling awesome and having a GREAT day. And I definitely owe to my awesome doctors, supportive husband and friends, and to having pop in the afternoon.


I’ve decided to name my pregnancy schizophrenic tendency hormones Spike. Because one moment I’ll be docile and calm, thinking about holding a baby and yeah!, how fun that is – and then a squirrel will run through my backyard and I’ll start thinking about how annoying that is that a squirrel just ran through my serene picture.

Which tail spins into a dozen other things, like how stupid squirrels are … and it goes down from there. It can lead back to calm moments where I’m laughing at myself for the obvious tantrum my mind just played on me … or it can get as bad as calling Aaron balling because I don’t know if I can do this anymore, a damn squirrel is in our backyard and didn’t you know they’re stupid!?

Aaron’s a very busy man – yet he takes my calls, most of the time, and even when I’m ranting about rodents, where ever they reside or I’m crying because my feet are swollen or I just saw a pampers commercial and the baby was smiling – which is cause for uncontrollable tears … he listens to me. He comforts me, he comes home to a wailing pregnant wife and he still tells me how much he loves me and how beautiful I am. And he always makes me feel better.

He calms the Spike inside of me. He lets me cry about the dust bunnies under the coffee table – he lets me laugh about my bodily functions. He rubs my cramped feet and gets me milkshakes at midnight.

He is an example to all husbands out there who have or will have a wife or pregnant wife – it’s men of Aaron’s caliber that make the world go round some days and I’m desperately lucky to call one my own.

He’s going to be one awesome dad and his being a husband and friend gets better everyday. I cannot wait to discover new life with him.

Aaron, I love you.