Pregnancy Side-effects | Heir to Blair

Smelly Feet vs Baby Kicks for Weirdest Post-Pregnancy Side Effect

16 Jan posted by heirtoblair

Three words make the the Weirdest Thing Ever About Life After Birthing A Baby: phantom baby kicks.

Yeah, they’re still happening two years later.

So I’m sitting there at my desk, happily tapping away at expenses & BAM! there’s a flutter in my uterus area. It’s enough to make me take pause & freak the eff out that OH MY GOD, I’M GOING TO BE ON “I DIDN’T KNOW I WAS PREGNANT.”

But then I remember that I’m already doing that female thing (send nachos & wine!) & we are staunch supporters of the Trojan man & there is simply NO WAY there is a bambino kicking away in my uterus.

But still.

Totally trippy.

HeirtoBlair500x150 v41 Smelly Feet vs Baby Kicks for Weirdest Post Pregnancy Side Effect

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Filed Under: AF, All about BA, BA is effing crazy, BA's a nerd, FAIL, Life in General, Oversharing Extraordinaire, Pregnancy Side-effects, Ute thumps, Who's body is this?

Where I channel Samuel L. Jackson.

28 Sep posted by heirtoblair

I’M GETTING MOTHER EFFING STRETCHMARKS ON MY MOTHER EFFING FEET.

footstretchie Where I channel Samuel L. Jackson.
This is where I draw the line. I am proud of my belly stretchies. I can deal with the ones on my knees & calves. BUT I DRAW THE LINE AT FEET.

fwiw, my foot looks AWESOME in this picture after hoisting it above my heart for 3 hours while we watched Goonies. It’s amazing how my perspective of what constitutes “awesome” has changed in the past few weeks.

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Filed Under: FAIL, Pregnancy is not always glamorous., Pregnancy Side-effects

My body's too bootylicious for you, babe.

24 Jul posted by heirtoblair

I got “The Talk.”

No, not the birds & the bees. I think it’s obvious that I know the basics of penis meets vagina, given the current “no vacancy” sign on my uterus.

No, I got the weight talk. From the doctor. Unfortunately, not the kind where he tells me to shove my face with grilled cheese & peanut butter cups to my hearts delight, but the kind where he tells me TO STOP BEING SUCH AN EFFING WHALE. & the worst part is, I BROUGHT IT UPON MYSELF.

I am officially up 22 lbs from my pre-pregnancy weight. (Sadly, my pre-pregnancy weight was a wee bit fat for me, but PEOPLE, I drank my feelings for 6 weeks back in December. Gin takes no prisoners when it comes to your waistline. Remember?) But 22 pounds. Not bad for almost 30 weeks, especially considering the 5 lbs of fluid permanently lodged in Ol’ Rosie, aka my left cankle. So WHY, dear God WHY, did I bring up my weight gain as my doctor was walking out of the exam room? What in God’s named spurred me to say, “So, my weight looks okay? Because for awhile there, I’ve been gaining 3 lbs per week.” SWEET JESUS BLAIR, will you never learn to keep your mouth shut?! Regrettably, my doctor informed me that I should cut out all snacks & desserts in order to keep my weight gain under 30 lbs.

Whisky. Tango. Foxtrot. I passed the gestational diabetes test! I have no dietary restrictions! Until today….& NO SNACKIES??? I stuttered, informing him that I swear, promise, cross-my-heart that despite the occasional cuppycake, I snack on Kashi bars, fruit, & cheese. He greeted me with a blank stare that said “I THINK YOU’RE LYING” & I know this picture was flying through his head:

I promise, Doctor. THAT WAS JUST ONE TIME. & the baby NEEDED Moe’s.

Near tears, I promised I would bump up evening walks to 2 miles if THE MAN WILL JUST LET ME KEEP MY KASHI BARS. He said, “Yes, walking is lovely, but remember — you only have 8 lbs to go until 30. You’ll probably be hungry, but the baby won’t care. I promise.” ::sobs::

RIP, snackies. RIP, cuppycakes that speak to my soul.

oh, & go figure this happened on a day when my office is filled with the buttery smell of warm Otis Spunkmeyer Cookies. Eff my life.

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Filed Under: FAIL, Pregnancy Side-effects

I despise the term "Babymoon."

9 Jul posted by heirtoblair

Really, folks. It’s far too cutesy.

Regardless, Nate & I are off to Charleston for four days to celebrate a) three years of wedded bliss b) the kid I’m currently incubating and c) my swollen left ankle.

img 2243 225x300 I despise the term "Babymoon." Because that shiz is IMPRESSIVE. That’s 9:30am, folks. I seriously might cry because you could GO SWIMMING IN MY ANKLE there is so much fluid. Compression hosiery, here I come…because nothing says “sexy” like dressing like your Grandma Doris.

& I need a good nickname for my ankle. Start brainstorming, although “THE BEAST” is the front-runner in my mind.

Random side note: Really, the Gestational Diabetes test with the 100% KoolAid proof syrup really isn’t that terrible. I chugged far worse things in college, including the contents of a cooler that had fruit at the bottom. Thankfully, I don’t remember much of the experience except sitting in a chair singing “Magic Carpet Ride” while the Lambda Chi’s hoisted me over their heads in a circle.

Right. ::side-eye::

Sadly, the after-shock of the GD test wasn’t quite as memorable, minus general queasiness & the shakes that come with a lethal injection of sugar into your blood stream. So far, no news is good news & I assume I passed the test.

Y’all have a WONDERFUL weekend…I shall return with lovely pictures of my left ankle touring the Battery & Fort Sumpter (woot, history buffs unite!) on Sunday. smoochies.

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Filed Under: Pregnancy is not always glamorous., Pregnancy Side-effects, The I Do's

I wish I was asleep, but my uterus decided to contract.

3 Jul posted by heirtoblair

You know what, Mr. Braxton Hicks? I effing hate you. I hate you & your little “false” contractions that wake me up at 6:30am on MY DAY OFF. Eff you & your smug diagnosis of my body practicing for labor. I DON’T CARE. I JUST WANT SLEEP.

Oh, and that wee bit about them not being painful? LIES. Not shocking, considering you had a penis and NEVER FELT ONE IN YOUR LIFE. It does, however, give me gleeful satisfaction that women have probably given you & your little “observation” the finger consistantly since the 1800′s.

So yes. I am awake at 6:30am thanks to a lovely tightening in the belly, while Nate snores blissfully unaware beside me. Oh, to be male sometimes. Get laid, have an orgasm, & spend the next 9 months blinking your eyes innocently & saying, “Oh geez, honey. That sounds rough.” without ever fully COMMITTING TO MY AGONY. Don’t worry, Nate. You can make this moment up in a few hours with biscuits & gravy in bed.

No, that’s not a new kinky sex position. I mean actual biscuits. Smothered in sausage gravy. The breakfast of Southern champions on the day we endeavor to clean out the garage.

Speaking of cleaning, thanks to my wonderful readers, I’m looking into a housekeeper for at least the first few months of my return to work after maternity leave…I think I can handle the housework while I’m at home, but having a housekeeper the first bit back would probably really help the transition. My only hesitation is cost, simply because we’re already unloading another human being onto our tight budget. But I think we can squeeze it temporarily, especially if it assures a piece of my sanity.

Also, I’ve been thinking hard-core about my cleaning routine — in the past, we simply attack the house on Saturday mornings & get it all done in a few hours. But I simply do not have the energy to do that anymore. I’d love to hammer out something that took a little bit every night. But does that really work in the long run? If you have a cleaning/laundry schedule that works well for you, will you please leave it as a comment or shoot me an email? It would be much, much appreciated!

oh, & as another random side-comment, Jennifer hit the nail on the head about keeping Anonymous & his/her douchebag comments — I could disallow anonymous comments, but they’re just funny. (and I do have a few awesome anonymous readers) Why would I rob myself or readers of the guilty pleasure to watch Anonymous struggle mightely to tap out something that is a half-attempt to be witty with a side of epic failure? It’s like chocolate cake with rich hot chocolate sauce & ice cream, hold the calories & guilt. Yummmmmmm….

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Filed Under: Pregnancy Side-effects, Suzie Homemaker