I was sick before I realized I was pregnant. It was a convenient form of morning sickness—sweets were repulsive. Veggies and fruits were all I could eat. (Got over that pretty quickly, though.) And if I ate, the morning sickness obeyed and I felt okay.

I found out I was pregnant the week of my mother’s birthday. I decided to save the surprise for that day, Saturday. I called my parents’ house, but no one answered. I called my mom’s cell phone. No answer. I figured my dad was out, so I called my youngest sister, who still lived at home. She didn’t answer, but my next youngest sister texted me back.

Dad’s in the hospital. He passed out this morning. We’re waiting to hear what’s wrong.

It took most of the day to find out what had happened and that my dad was mostly okay (he made a full recovery and is fine now). I finally tracked down a phone number for his room and called him. I was planning to tell my mother first, but she wasn’t there, so I told my dad. I called my mom at home next and told her, then my sisters. We needed the good news that day.

It was just the beginning of hospital visits for this pregnancy.

Since my last OB passed away a year before this, I changed doctors. At my first visit, they performed an ultrasound—the baby wasn’t due in mid-May as I’d calculated: the baby was due June 9. It should be illegal to prolong a pregnancy three weeks, especially in the midst of morning sickness!

My new doctor didn’t have a blood lab on site, so I had to go to the hospital for the routine blood tests, including the quad screen. I visited my parents for Christmas. While I was there, I got a call from my doctor. We played a few rounds of phone tag, and the nurses said the doctor wanted to talk to me himself.

Which, of course, means something is wrong.

And it was and it wasn’t. The baby had an elevated risk of Down syndrome. It was a week before I came home and visited with the doctor. I spent that week trying not to worry (because worrying wouldn’t change anything, right?) It turned out that “elevated risk” meant a 1 in 132 chance. Less than one percent. And this test is notorious for false positives.

But we went to the appointment with the perinatologist (at the hospital. Again.) anyway. They didn’t see any signs of Down syndrome in the baby, but they discovered something else—instead of the normal three blood vessels in the umbilical cord, the baby only had two blood vessels.

Then, of course, they laid out all the risks and had to act as if the worst was happening. A two-vessel cord (single umbilical artery or SUA) is correlated with chromosomal defects. Down syndrome is a chromosomal defect. Therefore, we couldn’t rule out Down syndrome without amniocentisis. (Big needle, big fun.) (We opted not to do the amnio, especially after our research found no correlation between SUA and Down syndrome specifically.)

Additionally, SUA can lead to intrauterine growth restriction (IUGR. Lots of letters!), where the baby can’t grow well in the womb. My doctor said that if the baby went three weeks without growing, we would deliver the baby as early as 33 weeks. Induced labor, c-sections and premature babies are my three biggest fears for pregnancies, so this is exactly what I wanted to hear. Not.

So every three to four weeks, I got to haul two kids to the hospital, through admitting, to the radiology office. Wait. Entertain kids. (Okay, to be fair, helpful neighbors did watch them for three of the visits, so I only had to take them half the time. And Ryan came to every ultrasound, so I wasn’t alone.) We’d decided to let the baby’s gender be a surprise—but monthly ultrasounds make that a little more challenging than normal. And then in the last month of pregnancy, I had weekly nonstress tests and amniotic fluid indices (measuring the fluid in the womb via ultrasound), to make sure the baby was okay. I had up to three doctor/hospital appointments a week at the end. Hooray.

Rachel passed every exam, chose not to be an exhibitionist, and ended up being my largest baby to date. I can’t wait to see the insurance charges. (And neither can the hospital, apparently. After waiting five months to bill us for the quad screen that started all this trouble, they’re now claiming that our insurance isn’t paying on charges made six weeks ago and we have to pay it all. Yeah, right. But in addition to the health concerns, we had so much trouble with a new insurance company that it stresses me out thinking about it still.)

Next time: labor and delivery!

And now, here to entertain you, is Hayden:

We got a new entertainment center. Hayden thinks either he or it (or maybe both) is very entertaining:

Curled up with his best friend:

Watching TV, being big (his daddy lays like that to watch TV all the time!):

Hayden found a broken watch:

My favorite: Hayden has mastered this important sign:

The best part, of course, is watching him carefully manipulate his fingers into place. Now he feels compelled to do it with both hands at once .

Finally, a belly update (though this picture is now a week old, 37.5 weeks):

It was around 34 weeks into this pregnancy that I finally began to accept that there are really things that I can’t do while pregnant. I mean, sure, I didn’t participate in the litany of contraindicated activities/foods/etc. But it was so easy for me to (still!) forget that I was pregnant, or to want to act as though I wasn’t—walking lots, bending down, carrying Hayden, etc.

And now, less than three weeks from my due date, I’m really beginning to see that there are things I can’t and shouldn’t do at this stage of pregnancy—constantly getting up and down, carrying Hayden all the time, slouching .

I realized today that the fact was I haven’t really been able to do these things for a while, but now I’m finally beginning to accept and admit that.

This made me think back to when Hayden was first born, and my difficult transition into motherhood. A large part of that was, of course, the physical challenges of a deluge of hormones, an inability to sleep for more than three consecutive hours, and the recovery from birth and complications.

But perhaps the more difficult thing to overcome was accepting that my life—my abilities, my time, my needs, and my role in meeting the needs of my family—was not the same and never would be.

Of course, I didn’t think that everything would be the same after having a baby—it’s probably pretty much impossible to understand how much your life will change before you go through it. But resisting the changes and the new role that you’ll have to play really doesn’t help.

Two and a half years later, and I’m still resisting accepting the changes that (impending) motherhood brings. I hope that the changes that come with my new baby won’t be as difficult to accept as they were the first time around.

What helped you to accept your new role as a mother?

All these pictures were taken last Friday.

Hayden is a weirdo.

Where on earth does he get this from?

Oh.

And by popular request, my belly, as of a week ago (34 weeks/6 weeks till my due date):

Don’t miss the ultimate list of family costumes!

I was almost six months pregnant with Hayden when Halloween rolled around. I was completely stumped for a good costume, and we had a party to go to. After looking on dozens of message boards and lots and lots of web searches, I assembled the granddaddy of all lists of pregnancy-related costumes.

I realize that not everyone is looking for a couple/pregnancy costume, so the list starts off with “stand alone” costumes that highlight your “baby bump.” Next is couple costumes, although there is some overlap between the two. Most of the costumes were fairly self explanatory, but I elucidated a bit for a few. Please note that I’m not saying that I think these ideas are good/creative/funny; they’re just everything I found. Also note that any links in the list are affiliate links; I get a small percentage of any purchase made after clicking on the links. Not all linked costumes are “maternity” costumes, but they may still fit.

Stand Alone

• 8 Ball (you could even be magic, if you feel so inclined)
• alien creature coming out of your belly
• angel
• baker
• Baker’s Wife (“Into the Woods”)
• Barney
• big baby
• Belly Dancer
• Big Bird
• Bowling Ball
• bumblebee
• angel
• bump in the road (wear all black, use sticky-backed felt strips to create road markings. Stick some cars on your belly)

• bun in the oven baker or Bun In The (actual) Oven
• Clown
• Cow
• devil
• Ducky
• Fairy/fairy godmother
• fishbowl
• Grape bunch
• gumball machine
• gypsy
• Hillbilly Bride
• Hula Girl
• Kangaroo
• M&M
• man with a belly
• marshmallow (Stay Puft Marshmallow Man, anyone?)
• Marshmallow Peep?
• “Midnight Priestess”
• Mike Wazowski (“Monsters, Inc.”)
• Minnie (accessory kit)/Mickey Mouse
• the Moon
• Mother Earth/Mother Nature
• “Mummy”
• Pillsbury doughboy
• Pirate
• Pregnant Bride
• pregnant hippie
• pregnant nun
• nurse
• pregnant schoolgirl
• Pumpkin/jack o’lantern—paint your shirt (or if it’s warm and you’re a bit of an exhibitionist, paint your belly)
• Raggedy Ann/Rag Doll
• Scarecrow
• skeleton with baby skeleton on your belly
• Sneetch (star-belly or plain-belly)
• trashy lady/man
• Violet Beauregard Blueberry (“Charlie and the Chocolate Factory”)
• Watermelon
• Winnie the Pooh
• witch

Couple Costumes

• “Mummy” and “Daddy”
• Bowling Ball and Pin or bowler
• Bun In The (actual) Oven & baker
• Cow and Milkman
• Hilbilly Bride and Hillbilly Groom
• Humpty Dumpty & the King
• M&Ms
• Minnie and Mickey Mouse
• Man and Lady Pirate
• Mr. & Mrs. Potato Head
• angel and devil
• Pregnant devil and devil
• pregnant hippies
• pregnant nun and devil
• pregnant nun and Priest
• Raggedy Ann/Rag Doll and Raggedy Andy
• Rosemary and the devil(“Rosemary’s Baby”)
• Sneetches (star-bellies, plain-bellies, or mix’n'match)
• trashy couple
• Tweedle Dee & Tweedle Dum

There were a few things on my list that were “topical” (read: “dated”). Can you tell what year this was?

• Britney Spears and Kevin Federline
• Padmé and Anakin Skywalker (or Darth Vader) (“Star Wars”)
• Shrek & Fiona
• Sidney Bristow and Michael Vaughn (“Alias”)

My favorite idea wasn’t really related to pregnancy, but adorable: Sesame Street Martians (see for awesome instructions instructible and their family song if you’ve forgotten it .) I told my husband it’d be cute to put “Yip, yip, YOU!” on his back and “Yip, yip, ME!” on my back and “Yip, yip, BABY!” on my belly. Ryan laughed at me.

Our choice? That’s us at the top of the post. The day of the party, I got some pipe cleaners and headbands and made myself a halo and Ryan a set of sparkly red “horns.” He wore his red boots and his shirt with flames on it; I wore a flowy white shirt and skirt. It ended up being so flowy that almost no one could tell I was pregnant. Oh well.

Personally, I don’t really ‘get,’ the whole pregnant nun thing. I’m not offended by it; it’s just not very funny to me.

I am SUPER excited about our costumes this year, though—no pregnancy necessary.

Scribbit’s first Winter Bazaar starts today! Each Wednesday this month, participants can post Hallowe’en tips and tricks tricks and treats for a chance to win fun prizes—kids’ costumes! (Yes, apparently Hallowe’en is a winter holiday in Alaska. You know, like Thanksgiving, Christmas, Easter and Labor Day. )

I wracked my brain for what I could write about, and then I remembered I’d compiled this list a while back (i.e. when I was pregnant) and finally have the chance to post it!

The bazaar will continue next month with a different theme and prize, and until the snow melts in Alaska.

When I was pregnant with Hayden, I never felt too bad for making Ryan stand in lines for me or taking an offered seat. I never really got that big with Hayden, but it did seem like people—even strangers—went out of their way to make sure that I was comfortable and they’d done everything they could for me.

Less than two weeks after Hayden was born, my mom gave Ryan and me our first night out. It was Valentine’s Day. I was still very much recovering from childbirth and the sleepless nights that followed. I was still wearing maternity clothes, though if I could pass for pregnant it would have probably been in the “is she or isn’t she?” phase. And of course, I was lactating.

We went to a self-service restaurant. I told Ryan what I wanted and went to claim a table. I looked around at the people in the restaurant. No one looked back. No one cast a compassionate, knowing smile in my direction.

I suppose I’d become spoiled, even though now, I’m sure that most of the nice things that people did for me weren’t out of the ordinary. But as I sat there, worried about leaking milk, the bags under my eyes and having the energy to make it through the evening, I wanted to stand on the table and scream, “Look at me! Be nice to me!! I JUST HAD A BABY!!!”

When you’re pregnant, everyone knows it. You’re in hormonal overload and everyone seems to care about you, your baby, your welfare. You lose the belly, though, and you’re just another face in the crowd.

I decided that night that I do want a badge. It doesn’t necessarily have to say, “DANGER: HORMONAL LACTATING MOTHER” (though that might be most useful for people around me!). I’d be okay with something more understated like “New mother; please handle with care.”