Category Archives: The Voices Speak

Weighing in…. update

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I had an emotional break down yesterday.  The reason… my weight, as usual!

I started my progesterone shots three weeks ago.  Knowing that these shots will make me gain weight that is additional to what I gain with being pregnant, I increased my workouts from 3 days a week to 5-6 days a week, between 20-40 minutes a session, making sure I burned between 250-500 calories each session.  There are days when I am just so exhausted all I want to do is go to sleep, but I still drag my weary body to the elliptical and work out.  Sadly, all this exercising has done nothing to lessen the weight gain.  Hence the breakdown.  In the last two weeks I have gained five pounds and I am miserable.

Granted, the first week I got my progesterone shot, I indulged myself in a huge slab of Tiramisu during the course of that week (hey, I am pregnant) which could explain some of the two pounds I gained that week, but since then I have tried to be on good eating behavior, limiting my sugar intake and trying to eat less.  So my only explanation for gaining the three pounds this week is that it has something to do with the progesterone shot.

How can I be so sure that it is the progesterone shot making me gain all the additional weight you ask?  Well, I weighed myself on Wednesday to give the nurse that administers my shots an accurate measurement (the nurse comes to my house to give me the shot).  I also weigh myself (I know I’m obsessed) on Sundays for my own weight tracking chart.  It is within those four days that my weight jumped three pounds.  I know that I am supposed to gain weight when I am pregnant, but for all the activity I do, I should be gaining the normal one pound a week, not three!  So yes, I do blame the progesterone for my excessive weight gain.

Hence the reason for my breakdown yesterday.  It just seems that no matter what I try to do to control my weight gain, it’s not working.  It is out of my hands.  I am just going to gain weight incontrollable, no matter how much I exercise and/or cut my food intake.  🙁   Another reason for my misery, William predicted that I am going to gain 40 pounds this pregnancy.  Looking at the way I am gaining weight, he is going to be right.  My desire to prove him wrong was one of my motivations to keep my weight gain low, but now that I have no control on my weight gain, all my hopes to not gain 40 lbs+ has been thrown out the window, because I know that it’s not going to happen.

Additionally, these shots have me on an emotional roller coaster.  Everything gets to me.  It’s horrible.  I find myself depressed for reasons I cannot explain, and the kids have been a major source for my annoyance.  I mean, I yell at them for everything, when before I used to just let some things pass because it was not worth yelling about.  For example, a couple of days ago, I was yelling at Aidan for not finishing his yogurt.  Come on, how stupid was that.  But like my weight, I cannot seem to control my anger.

Your next question is, why don’t I just stop doing the shots?  My answer, I don’t want to.  All I have to do is remember Aidan’s birth and there is no way in hell I will risk having another premature baby.  Aidan was born at 33 weeks.  I didn’t even get a chance to hold him when he was born.  Instead he was whisked away to NICU.  When I finally got a chance to see him for the first time, he had wires all over him and he was hooked up to all sorts of weird machines.  For a first time mom seeing her newborn in such a position, it was heartbreaking.  I just stood by his crib crying, afraid to hold him due to fear that he might break.  Granted he came out of it okay and now is a three year old monster, but there is no way that I ever want to go through that again.

Aidan’s First DayAidan at birth

So I will bear the painful shots that leave my butt sore for days, the crazy, uncontrollable weight gain, and the mood swings.  And my husband will have to learn to deal with and be supportive of my weekly meltdowns.  And you my dear reader (assuming I have any), will have to put up with reading additionally postings of me complaining about my weight.  All this torture just so that I can have a full- term, healthy baby girl… and it will be worth it in the end!  At least that is what I tell myself to prevent another full blown crying session.  *SIGH*  And yes, I will keep working out, with the hope that once the baby is born, all this weight will be just a little bit easier to lose.  *DOUBLE SIGH*

Belly laughs

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I get weekly baby updates from Babycenter.com.  The emails are often closed with a sectioned called “Belly Laughs” which usually have funny statements and/or images dealing with pregnancy and motherhood.  Here are a few pictures that made my belly laugh.

I can definitely relate to this one, especially when the boys drive me crazy!

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This next image does not even apply to me, but how I wish to be the mom who does not look like she swallowed a house.

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A story for mother’s day

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With mother’s day around the corner, I found this story to be a worthy and hilarious addition to my blog.  My mother-in-law, Carolyn, sent it to me.  According to the email, it was written by Deborah S. Wallace.  Enjoy.

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So, we had this great 10 year old cat named Jack who just recently died.  Jack was a great cat and the kids would carry him around and sit on him and nothing ever bothered him. He used to hang out and nap all day long on this mat in our bathroom. Well we have 3 kids and at the time of this story they were 4 years old, 3 years old and 1 year old. The middle one is Eli.

Eli really loves chapstick, LOVES it. 

He kept asking to use my chapstick and then losing it. So finally one day I showed him where in the bathroom I keep my chapstick and how he could use it whenever he wanted to but he needed to put it right back in the drawer when he was done. 

Last year on Mother’s Day, we were having the typical rush around and try to get ready for Church with everyone crying and carrying on. My two boys are fighting over the toy in the cereal box. I am trying to nurse my little one at the same time I am putting on my make-up.  Everything is a mess and everyone has long forgotten that this is a wonderful day to honor me and the amazing job that is motherhood. 

We finally have the older one and the baby loaded in the car and I am looking for Eli.    I have searched everywhere and I finally round the corner to go into the bathroom.  And there was Eli. He was applying my chapstick very carefully to Jack’s rear end.  Eli looked right into my eyes and said “chapped.” Now if you have a cat, you know that he is right–their little butts do look pretty chapped. And, frankly, Jack didn’t seem to mind. 

And the only question to really ask at that point was whether it was the FIRST time Eli had done that to the cats behind or the hundredth.

And THAT is my favorite Mother’s Day moment ever because it reminds us that no matter how hard we try to civilize these glorious little creatures, there will always be that day when you realize they’ve been using your chapstick on the cat’s butt.

:(

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William is mean to me!

He says that I need to stop shopping for our daughter (at least until she is born) or else I’ll jinx it and we could end up having a boy!  He is trying to burst my bubble and it looks like he is doing a good job of it.  Now I’m scared and upset that the ultrasound tech might be wrong… what if our little girl turns out to be a boy?

Still I don’t think it will prevent me from doing a little shopping here and there.  Have you seen all the cute, adorable stuff that’s out there for little girls?  It’s so hard to resist!

Ranting and maybe a little raving

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Here’s my warning for all those who have just one kid don’t have have anymore, at least not until the one you have if old enough to know better and can be a helper rather than a pain.  And for those of us who have more than one, enjoy those rare moments that they are actually fun to watch.  Obviously, the kids drove me crazy yesterday, which is why I’m ranting like a mad woman today (needed a day to recuperate).

Let start with Aidan.  The guy was up before six a.m ready to play.  I have already given up the luxury of sleeping in late, there was no way that I was going to drag myself out of bed at that gawd awful hour to watch an overly energetic monkey jump off the walls.  But, I did drag myself out of bed, only to go hand him his Leapster and ask him to stay in bed and play with it till everybody else woke up.  Of course Aidan would not have any of that.  Instead, he chucked the Leapster on the floor and threw a fit.  I just left him to his tantrum and crawled back into bed praying that his screams of rage would not wake Mark up (and mercifully it did not).  Thankfully, by the time my brain started functioning, an hour later, he had calmed himself down and was lying in bed waiting for me.  But that was not the last I had seen of the monster that he hides inside. 

At around 10 am, I decided that the boys should take advantage of the gorgeous day and play outside.  I set up the pool, and lathered Mark with sunscreen.  When I went to get Aidan ready, guess what he did… yup he threw another tantrum.  It wasn’t like I was forcing him to go outside.  All I wanted to do was put some sunscreen on him just in case he decided to join Mark and me outside.  After much difficulty, I got the lotion on him and left him to stew in his anger but he would not let it go that easy.  He started chucking things and that is when I say RED!  Although I am not a supporter for spanking, there are times when I just can’t help myself and I always regret succumbing to my anger, but I was furious by this time (waking up before six didn’t help matters either).  I smacked Aidan’s bare bottom and threw him in he room and threatened him to stay on his bed… or else.  It’s sad that I had to resort to such drastic measures, but it seemed to have worked.  Once he came out of time out, he was very pleasant and played nicely with his brother outside.

Now moving on to Mark.  The boy has learned to climb.  He is on top of everything and his favorite place to be is on top of tables… kitchen table, computer table, and the scariest place for me, the glass patio table.  It seems the minute I turn around, he is on top of some table.  My heart dropped at least twice when I found him gleefully thumping away on top of the glass patio table.  And every time I would pick him off a table he would throw a fit, lying down on the floor kicking and screaming.

So between Aidan’s tantrums and Mark’s tantrums, you can see how I can go insane!  Miraculously, they both calmed down as we got closer to midday and naptime.  I spent the remaining part of their afternoon watching the boys play together on the slip n’ slide.  It was a rare moment in my day but as I sat there watching the two monster splash happily in the water, I was really grateful that I have them, even if they do drive me crazy.  I guess, it’s those little moments is time that make having kids and giving up all the luxuries of my previous life, so worth it.

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To my beloved

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We are opposite in so many ways and we stand as proof that opposites do attract.

Appearance wise you are tall to my short, white to my dark, skinny to my “voluptuous.” 

Personality wise you are calm to my storm, weird to my normal, grumpy to my cheerful, motivated workaholic to my uninspired laziness.

And even though you love to complain (at least we know where the kids get it from), you bring a smile to my days and nights.  You light up my life.

There is nobody in the world I’d rather spend the rest of my life with than you.

I love you!

Happy Anniversary!

Color me beautiful

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The other night William said, “I hope our baby girl has dark skin and looks just like you.”  (Btw, we haven’t had the ultrasound yet but he thinks we are having a girl).  As cute and adorable as that comment was, I couldn’t help thinking about a blog I had read on Mad Momma which talked about how, in the Eastern culture, dark skinned people are considered less attractive than their light skinned counterparts.  It’s sad but true.  The Eastern cultures’ perception of beauty is based on the color of a person’s skin.  Basically, one can have the most ghastliest of features but as long as the person has a milky complexion, then s/he is considered beautiful.  How funny is that? 

However, I must admit that in my youth I was a victim of such thoughts.  I would often look upon my lighter skinned friends and wish that I was one of them.  I have since grown out of that phase.  Although it didn’t help me feel any better when, a couple of years ago, while visiting my grandparents in Sri Lanka, a family friend of theirs stopped by.  She had the audacity to say, as she looked at me with pity, “I thought you were fairer.”  Of course, politeness refrained me from replying back, but if I had my way, I would have given her a piece of my mind and maybe a foot up her a** too as I kicked her to the curb. 

Since I am on the topic of skin color, I have to mention a little anecdote about my honey colored cousin living in Canada.  In an attempt to give her hair “natural highlights” she spent her summer sitting out by the lake, her hair soaked with henna and beer while the rest of her body, from shoulder to feet, was wrapped in towels and blankets so that she did not get “black.”  (I have no idea how she protected her face from the sun.)  The image that was conjured up when she told me what she was doing was hilarious and is one that words cannot adequately describe.  Just goes to show that you can take the girl out of the East but you cannot take the East out of the girl.  On her behalf, she does live in a part of Canada that is populated with Asians and Southeast Asians.  So, if she wants to be considered pretty in their eyes, I can see why she went through all that work to protect herself from getting dark.

As for me, it wasn’t until I moved to the States that I learned to love the rich chocolate color that I have been blessed with.  It helps to know that there are people out here who spend hours getting baked in the sun and/or spend millions in tanning salons just to get close to my beautiful coloring.  I now view those who judge a person’s attractiveness based on their skin color as shallow and small minded.  And for my baby, no matter what skin color it is born with, it will be gorgeous… especially if it looks anything like its dad.

The great weigh in

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Ugh!  Forget the nausea, the constipation, the fatigue, etc, the worse part about being pregnant is the constant weight gain that does not stop until after the baby is born.  I always cringe at the doctor’s office as the nurse moves the weight on the scale higher and higher.  Definitely not fun!  My petite frame does not handle this weight gain with the greatest of dignity.  After I’ve put on a couple of pounds, I look like I have swallowed a baby hippo or maybe a baby whale.

At my last visit to the doctor, the midwife cheerfully mentioned how most women tend to look bigger earlier with each subsequent pregnancy.  Great!  On a more positive note, I have been doing much better with my weight this time around.  Although I still look like I have swallowed the baby whale, I can happily say that at eighteen weeks, I am eight pounds lighter than when I was at the same stage of pregnancy with Mark (I didn’t keep a weekly record of my weight when I was pregnant with Aidan… silly me).  Other than the tub of ice cream I had last night and half a loaf of french bread slathered with butter that I had this morning, for the most part I have been good with not giving into my carbs and sugar cravings.  At least I am trying to be good.

At my first visit, the doctor recommended that I keep my weight gain within 25-35 lbs.  I just laughed at him.  After gaining 50+ lbs when I was pregnant with Mark, would I really be able to keep my weight gain under 35 lbs.  It has now become my goal is to do exactly that… I am trying my best not to gain more than 35 lbs.  More importantly, I aim to prove my husband, who so “tactfully” commented that I will end up gaining at least 40 lbs this pregnancy, wrong!  Of course, this is easier said than done, considering the doctor will have me start using progesterone soon. 

*Aside:  Because Aidan was born early, I am considered a high risk pregnancy.  According to the doctor, using progesterone has been shown to decrease the chances of having a premature baby by at least 50%.  On the flip side, progesterone cause one to gain weight… a lot of weight.  Just what I need right now!*

Anyway, time will tell how well I manage my weight with this pregnancy and if I achieve my goal.  With 22 weeks to go, stay tuned for the continuing saga that is my weight.  And, if I do meet my goal, I am going to celebrate with a huge piece of chocolate cake smothered in ice cream.  😀