Juliet Martinez

Tue, Dec 30 2003

This is me?

As the captain of the Bartlet Administration's boat, the chief of staff is a work-a-holic. As the captain of the Bartlet Administration's boat, the chief of staff is a work-a-holic. Although he is sometimes haunted by the demons of his past alcohol and drug abuse, because of his character and perseverance there is no one more admired on the staff than he.

:: Which West Wing character are you? ::
by Juliet Email me

Mon, Dec 29 2003

BTW - wordofmouth.com is, you guessed it, a scam I googled around a little and found a number of accounts on the web of how that creepy gossip site, www.wordofmouthconnections.com, is indeed a scam. You are welcome to check out some of the sites yourself if you really have a lot of time on your hands. Try here or here.
by Juliet Email me

Ummm...

I had another ultrasound today and the news wasn't exactly what we wanted to hear, but not disastrous, either. My amniotic fluid index was back down to between six and seven (normal ranges from around 8 to somewhere in the teens; my last AFI was 10). But the baby continues to squirm like a cat in cold water, and it was playing with its toes as we watched its little face on the screen. Its eyes were closed, then open; its cheeks were fat and full, and we could SEE them! I felt so excited and moved (and kicked).

But the low AFI will still mean more frequent trips to the midwife for non-stress tests and maybe more frequent ultrasounds. You know, I have felt for the last few days like something wasn't quite right. Suddenly I was able to put my pants on without sitting down on the bed, something that hadn't been possible for a while. Joel said he felt like my belly was smaller, too. I'm so glad I asked my midwife for another ultrasound and she agreed.

Even though this is not great news, the baby is further along now and not in so much danger from the low fluid. Its lungs are so much more developed now and if it needed to be born early it wouldn't be so dangerous as just a few weeks ago. I'm terribly proud of my little bundle for making it to this point, and I don't care what the tests tell me: this little one is a survivor. We're going to be just fine.
by Juliet Email me

Sun, Dec 28 2003

Questions that plague me

Is it weird to be obsessed with cop shows during pregnancy?

Is it wrong to do yoga on a Sunday morning while watching taped episodes of cop shows?

Why aren't NYPD Blue and Law and Order in syndication on a non-cable channel?

What does it say about me that I'll settle for The District when I can't watch one of NYPDB or L and O?

And while I'm asking questions, is it a fashion faux pas to walk around my house in nothing but a T-shirt, skivs and a bright red scarf tied around my belly to support my back? It feels so right, it can't be wrong.
by Juliet Email me

Fri, Dec 26 2003

Needy? Desperate?

When I look at my site, sometimes I wonder if the little exclamation point in "Email me!" looks needy. Is it sending the wrong message? Did I get a little too exuberant when I put that into the design? Maybe I should take the exclamation point out. The "Email me" should say, "I don't care if you do or don't contact me. I'm out there living an exciting life, not waiting around for people to email me. Your email means nothing to me!" Instead I fear it says, "Please, oh, PLEASE send me an email so I'll know there's more to life than this windowless room illuminated only by the anemic glow of my computer screen!" The exclamation point says, without words, that I am a Gollum-like creature, huddled over my keyboard, whispering insanely about my precious emails.

While I do share some similarities of complexion with said deranged halfling (but none of his, em, figure flaws), I would hate to have people thinking that I am quite so addicted to emails. I mean, if it were that big of a deal to me, I wouldn't still be using a dial-up connection, right? But I do like to get emails, especially when they relate to something on my site. I mean, here I am pouring out my innermost thoughts (and most banal observations), and getting not so much in return. So I do prefer getting emails over not getting them, truth be known. But who doesn't?

Ultimately I get the eerie feeling that in the rarefied world of online interaction, style means proportionately more than it does in face-to-face interactions. Instead of facial expressions and body language, all one has to go on is site design. Not that the writing or other content is totally unimportant, but the subtext is provided by the look and "feel" of a site. And since I'm good at reading faces, but not so good at design, I often wonder if the message received is the same as the message I thought I sent. Hence my disproportionate preoccupation with punctuation marks.

Welcome to my neurotic mind. I think I'll get rid of those exclamation points.
by Juliet Email me

Musings About Ella

I just found a great blog by the mom of a young baby. Love it. Here's an excerpt:

"I went to one La Leche League meeting before I had Ella. One of the leaders was talking about how a father had called asking them to tell his pregnant daughter that breastfeeding won't make your boobs sag. So here I am, four months into breastfeeding and I gotta tell ya grrls, they do. Before Ella, I had great boobs. I didn't need a push-up bra, no padding necessary. The grrls are still nice, but I know once I stop breastfeeding, I'm making a beeline to Victoria's Secret for a great push-up bra."
by Juliet Email me

Tue, Dec 23 2003

So tired from doing very little

Today the only thing I've done is sleep, eat and drive to my midwife's appointment. And yet I'm so sleepy! Go figure.

Last night I had fun seeing my friend Shokufeh and hubby Sam, who are visiting from Hawaii. Kari threw them a little party for friends to see them before they leave for New Orleans to see family, then home to warm weather. Lacey was there, and so were Cinnamon and Andrew of Gaper's Block. In the course of conversation, they turned me on to Bill Allmart's blog, about living after the death of his wife, which I read today and loved. Incidentally, Bill's son, Husayn, is a friend of my little brother, Kit. They also told me that the indomitable voice of traffic on WBEZ, Abby Ryan (who delivered the traffic update when I was eating breakfast at 6:00 this morning, and when I got back from the midwife's at 5:00 this evening - impressive!), has her own web site, but the link is not working as I write this. You try it.

Anyway, last night was great fun. At one point Joel was talking with Kari about how being a teacher and living near your school means there's this neat community feeling, but you sacrifice some of your privacy to be part of that (like when one's student sees one having a beer at a friend's backyard barbecue). Sam overheard the last part and chimed in that it was the same being married to a blogger. Joel nodded. He understands.

I feel like my protein smoothies (or esmootis, as I like to call them now) are nourishing not a growing fetus, but a giant, writhing and chimerical cat-worm. Maybe that's what distracted me from calling my friend Katrin on her birthday yesterday. I sent her a belated e-card today - I still couldn't get it together to call earlier when she might still be at the lab where we used to work together. I did, however, remember to call my nephew, whose birthday is today. So even though I went to bed super late last night, went back to sleep after my early breakfast and did none of the health- or duty-related things I was supposed to get done today, it wasn't a total wash. Just mostly.
by Juliet Email me

Sat, Dec 20 2003

Daddy

Joel is practicing piano here in the dining room. He has wanted to learn for a long time but it just didn't come together so well in our cramped little apartment. Very little room to set up the keyboard.

But now he's found a nook for it in the corner of the dining room and I love hearing him practice. He just called me over to show me something cool about how to make different chords without moving one's hands very far. I gave him a big, wet kiss.

He smiled up at me and thanked me for going through all the little discomforts of pregnancy I've experienced in the last couple of months (I thought, It's the next couple of months I'm worried about. But didn't say it). He said, "I bet once the baby's here, you'll be thinking 'what pain?' 'what swelling?'" I bet he's right, mostly.

He put his hands on my belly and leaned his beard and mop of black hair into it. "Hi, baby. This is your daddy. We sure love you." He looked back up at me. "The baby's probably thinking, 'I thought the frog was my daddy.'"
by Juliet Email me

Maaaaamaries... in the corners of my mind...

Read this great article on the politics of formula vs breast feeding and how this public health issue is at risk of getting swept under the rug by infant formula manufacturers. Now why would they want to do that?

You can also check out the author, Katie Granju's, blog at Loco Parentis.
by Juliet Email me

Thu, Dec 18 2003

Lungs

Today I turned officially 32 weeks pregnant. This is the beginning of that magical 32- to 34-week period in which the baby's lungs finish developing and amniotic fluid becomes more of a luxury than a necessity - a perk of the uterine environment, but not quite so vital for the baby's post-partum quality of life.

Even though for the last few weeks my amniotic fluid has been within the normal range necessary to ensure the development of the baby's lungs, I've still waited anxiously for these milestones to pass. I tend to worry about things anyway, so it's been nearly impossible for me not to nurse little fears of more problems arising before the baby is out where I can worry about it to its face.

But now I have been freed to worry about other things than the baby being born before its lungs develop. I am eight weeks from pregnancy and my most recent worry is that I will get pre-eclampsia, a dangerous combination of high blood pressure, excessive water retention and protein in the urine. Of course, at last count I didn't have high blood pressure or protein in my urine, just a LOT of water retention, so that particular worry is kind of hanging by a thread.

So I'm eight weeks from the time to take the bun out of the oven - give or take a couple on either side. I might be imagining things, but I think the baby has gotten more active since I started on the protein smoothies yesterday. I love being able to say, "I have now gotten enough protein for today," even though 80+ grams of protein plus numerous servings of vegetables doesn't come close to keeping me from feeling hungry sooner than I'd like. I envision the baby on one of those bodybuilder regimens, drinking protein shakes and working out constantly. Flex, baby, flex! Kick! Push it! Of course, the scary outgrowth of that concept is the image of a Schwarzenegger-esque newborn issuing forth from the womb with big, ripped muscles. That's just weird.
by Juliet Email me

Wed, Dec 17 2003

Trying to fit it all in

I'm seriously wondering how everything I need to do can be crammed into the next few hours. I spent the morning trying to catch up on sleep - I was plagued since early this morning by a strange insomnia in which my feet were too hot under the covers and too cold outside of them. You wouldn't think it would disturb my sleep that much, but I woke up every 15 minutes or so to move my feet to the opposite extreme of temperature.

Anyway, I gave up on sleep around 10 and headed to a health food store to buy some of the recommended supplements I found out about in this book, How to Make a Pregnant Woman Happy. I'm already taking, in addition to my regular prenatal vitamins, a B6 supplement for the mild nausea that I thought that was supposed to be over after my first trimester and that has turned me off most foods. This morning I bought a fast-absorbing magnesium supplement for my swollen feet and fingers, chewable digestive enzymes I'm hoping will reduce the heartburn that competes with my hot feet for the privilege of waking me up at night, and an omega-3 fatty acid supplement because I'm too chicken to eat fish that could have any number of pollutants in it. Oh, and a big tub of soy-based protein powder, because I don't think I'm even getting within spitting distance of the recommended 80 grams of protein I'm supposed to be eating every day. You know, when they told me three weeks ago that the baby weighed 3 pounds, I didn't put it together at the time that the little thing is going to at least double in size before it's born nine weeks or so from now. The teeny dude needs serious protein and I doubt I'm getting enough of it.

So now I'm home from the store and I've drunk two protein smoothies (which supplied only about half of my required protein) and eaten three eggs scrambled with spinach, plus some raw cucumber and tomato. The cucumber is also supposed to be good for the swelling, and later I'll make a delicious (not really) tea with the cucumber peels to further reduce the ballooning of my feet and ankles. Now if I could just get a long soak in the bath and a good nap, I'd be golden.

But I've got more to do. I invited some Baha'i friends over tonight, so I need to at least tidy up in the living and dining room. Refreshments might also be nice, and then there are some things I wanted to look up and print out to share with all. No problem, except that my mom's bedroom has taken an extended rest in the dining room, as we were going to switch rooms with her before she got back and now we have a lot more time to do that. We've now moved our room into the middle bedroom, but have yet to situate the futon and the rest of Mom's stuff in the back bedroom. Joel said he would move it all the rest of the way after work today, but I don't know how much time that will leave me to clean up and make goodies if I wait till he's done.

And on top of that I'm supposed to be drinking copious amounts of water, snacking every couple of hours, getting more and more protein, plenty of calcium, vegetables, fruits, rest and exercise. The dietary requirements alone seem like a full-time job. Then there are the frequent bathroom breaks. Some days I feel like I should have just cleared my schedule until the baby is six months old.

In light of the low-quality sleep, the swollen ankles and the aching feet, I think I'll just give in and do the easiest thing that presents itself right now: soak in the tub and take a nice nap. If my guests want to criticize my skills as a house keeper, they'll have to take it up with the baby.
by Juliet Email me

Mon, Dec 15 2003

Mom I just talked to my mom, who was due to come back tomorrow from her visit with my brother's family in California, and she is staying another week. Just as the sense of grown-up independence was losing its novelty, just as I was beginning to miss having her here, she ups and changes her plans. I guess she will continue bonding with her granddaughters this week and get to see my dad when he and my little brother get to So Cal this weekend. AND, it turns out, my dad and little brother will not be making it to Chicago after all. I don't know who thought up this whole independent thought thing, but I don't like it. Except for me.
by Juliet Email me

Hoaxes, a.k.a. Hope Springs Eternal

As some of you probably already know, this weekend I took a chance on what I knew was almost definitely a hoax, the "Bill Gates is giving away his fortune" chain letter. The premise is that Microsoft can somehow track the letter and will pay those who forward it way more than you'd think (a couple of hundred bucks?) just for forwarding it. The email comes complete with testimonials about how somebody's sister's cousin got a check for $4 million from Microsoft just for forwarding it to everyone in her address book. The people who forwarded it before me were obviously erring on the side of extreme optimism, and I jumped right on the bandwagon. How embarrassing to then get emails back telling me it's a hoax.

Well I knew that, but for a moment I wanted to believe that money really does fall from the sky. Is it wrong to indulge for a moment the fantasy of being able to pay off my and Joel's student loans (over $60K) and much of my house in one fell swoop? To be able to - and this is getting totally crazy - pay people to build Joel a drum studio in our basement or insulate our attic (it's much more complicated than it sounds, unfortunately)? Set up my parents and Joel's for life? Sigh. I can dream, right? Right?

Sorry if my momentary lapse into fantasyland turned meant spam in your inbox. It was beautiful while it lasted!

by Juliet Email me

Sat, Dec 13 2003

Gossip and backbiting I just found out that someone is seeking and giving information about me to word-of-mouthconnections.com, apparently an online venue for either vindictive gossip or anonymous praise. This creeps me out. I can think of a couple of people with an ax to grind, but no one so ecstatic about me that they would blab it on the Internet. I'm curious, but not enough to pay $20 to become a member and find out who is inquiring and/or who is posting information. I can think of all sorts of better things to do with $20. And then the possibility exists that the email that showed up in my hotmail inbox was just a scam to get my money. I would think it's pretty effective, getting people curious about what other people are saying about them. Does anyone else know about this site? Have you used it or are you a member?
by Juliet Email me

Boogie oogie oogie

Last night, as promised, I dressed up in an ill-fitting maternity outfit bequeathed to me by my friend Marylu, painted my face, gooped my hair into something other than its habitual mop and shook my mama-sized booty at the Christmas party for Joel's work. Terribly romantic, I know.

Really it was a lot of fun, though. Everyone directed the usual good will towards the reproducing female, and I got to dance as much as I wanted. It felt so good to move my hips in different directions - I've got to do that more often. Joel indulged me every time I wanted to dance, except on the electric slide, in contrast to his occasional shyness about dancing. We're both moderately good dancers with no real skills. When we get out on the dance floor, we prefer to blend in, but I was enjoying dancing so much that Joel accompanied me onto the dance floor even when there was nobody else out there. You gotta love that.

The DJ played "Ooh, Baby, Baby" by Smokey Robinson, and we slow-danced and sang along. I love slow dancing with Joel, but these days it's a little less, well, close than it used to be. It's less polishing the belt buckle and more polishing the shirt buttons. Or just messing up the tie.

Although he declined to do the electric slide, Joel did accompany me for the cha cha slide. At the "5 hops this time" part, I felt a distinct objection from my pelvic floor and realized why everyone kept telling me not to overdo it. I had joked with them that while I was pretty sure the baby wasn't going anywhere now, come February 1st I'll be going out dancing every single night. Or maybe I'll just get a recording of the cha cha slide.

Amazingly enough, I didn't overdo it, though my ankles looked like I was wearing leg warmers by the time we left around 10:00. I don't even own leg warmers. I was tired, but also exhilarated when we got home, and still had enough energy to sing some Beatles songs with Joel before falling asleep to the sound of his acoustic guitar (how can you not love that guy?). Not bad for a couple of hundred pounds of mom and baby on a Friday night.
by Juliet Email me

Fri, Dec 12 2003

Birthing Naturally I just found a cool site for anyone interested in natural childbirth, Birthing Naturally. It has a Birth Style quiz to help you understand your personal approach to stress and pain, and a great page focusing on the relationship between fear and pain . It also has an interesting branch that focuses on birth from the perspective of Christian spirituality, potentially useful to anyone who wants to use their spirituality to enhance the birth experience.
by Juliet Email me

Brain so shrunken... must hang on...

I'm feeling more and more slowed down by being pregnant. Yesterday was quite a wake-up call, because after running around all day Wednesday, I spent the better part of the day asleep.

Tonight is the Christmas party for Joel's work. I'm so excited to dance - it feels so good to swivel my pelvis around and not just during my infrequent yoga workouts. Face it, pelvic rocking (this is not a sexual thing, unfortunately) is great for toning the pelvic muscles and getting a posterior baby to turn, but not nearly so much fun as getting down on the dance floor.

Anyway, my plan today is to do all the stuff I need to do in the morning and spend the afternoon napping if I can. I'm hoping this will prepare me to be able to stay out later than eleven tonight. Yeah, I'm wild all right.

In other news, today is the feast of the Virgin of Guadalupe, a day on which many Mexican Catholics honor the Mother of Jesus in her appearance to an indigenous man, Juan Diego, on Tepeyac hill in Mexico.
by Juliet Email me

Thu, Dec 11 2003

Three bucks

At the forest preserve yesterday I saw a small herd of white tail deer, including three bucks, two five-point and one four-point. It was amazing and also weird, because they didn't seem at all afraid of me or the other people on the trail. They were obviously well-fed and had none of the skittishness that gives deer a look of dainty alertness. On the contrary, they stared at us the same way we stared at them. The bucks actually walked alongside me - though about 25 feet away - as I proceeded down the trail. Two of them got scared at one point as a plane flew overhead, but the biggest just looked after them and proceeded to scrape its impressive antlers against the dilapidated skeleton of an old wooden sign post. I had wondered why the sign post was worn thin at about my chest level.

I would have been happy to watch the deer for hours, but by that point in my walk - about 40 minutes in - my back felt like I was shlepping multiple bowling balls, not a 3-pound child, close to my center of gravity. I'm sure the effect was heightened by the fact that my midwife had told me the night before that the contents of my uterus weigh about 25 pounds. I mean, the weight didn't change from one day to the next, but just knowing the number made me feel particularly, well, put-upon. So instead of staying with the wildlife, I made my cumbersome way back to the car, feeling like a cross between a wild woman and a beast of burden.
by Juliet Email me

Tue, Dec 09 2003

Caution The following post is not to be taken as a cry for help, but an expression of one person's healthy enjoyment of solitude and the outdoors. Please do not arrange an intervention - there's no hidden message here. Thank you, read on.
by Juliet Email me

Misty

Today Mom woke up from a decent night's sleep ready to fly off to California and spend a week with my big brother, Stacy, his wife, Adele, and daughters Saffy, Dilly and Vivienne. I had my doubts about her readiness to travel so soon after being totally wiped out and in the hospital with flu and bronchitis. But she did it on sheer power of will, like so many other things she has accomplished in life.

I left Mom at the airport and as I drove away I felt a rush of independence. Boston's "Taking my Time" was on the MP3 player, and I cranked the music up until it hurt my ears, then down just a little. I wanted the baby to hear the music, though in retrospect I can't imagine it had any difficulty since most of the people in neighboring cars probably heard the music. I decided to drive out to the forest preserve near Willow Springs.

The trees are leafless, but even their gray fractal outlines soothe me immensely. I drove around for a while, just listening to music and looking at the late fall landscape. It's totally out of character for me to wander so aimlessly, but today I felt liberated from the need to be on task. I pulled into one of the picnic areas and walked off into the woods.

It had been raining. Fog blanketed the trees, and droplets still fell from the canopy to the leaf litter in a chorus of little splashes. I felt I could walk into the mist and disappear completely, merge with it. I found a little trail, though, and followed it over fallen logs and through ravines, trying to keep the mud out of my tennis shoes and off of my pants. I wasn't really dressed for hiking, but by stepping on the rusty oak leaves covering the ground I at least kept my socks dry.

The deer who left their tracks on the trail and the horses whose deposits looked pretty fresh probably hadn't worried about the mud, but I doubt they were the ones to leave cases of Icehouse beer by the side of the trail. I pictured some local teenagers or semi-woodsy guys who feel, like I did today, so alone in that place that they don't imagine anyone ever walking that trail except the deer. Needless to say, I did not help myself to a cold one. They can keep their Icehouse.

Further down the trail I found a pile of saplings and young trees that forest preserve workers had cleared for some reason (maybe they were the ones who left the beer). It was on the edge of a clearing that looked to be more fen than meadow. I stood and looked over the meadow and the hill behind it. I wished I had better shoes on, shoes that would be okay getting sucked into wet, black mud without allowing my socks to get wet. I hate having wet socks. I swore to myself I would come back to explore further along the trail, with boots and rugged clothes on. Then I may just walk into the mist and disappear.

by Juliet Email me

Mon, Dec 08 2003

Outrunning the flu

I think I have actually escaped the flu. Even after Joel and my mom were so sick with it, I feel better today than I have since the Sunday after Thanksgiving. I just hope I'm not jinxing it by celebrating too early with some Lindor truffles and a York peppermint patty. CJ says I can indulge in chocolate occasionally as long as I "balance" it out with more fruits and vegetables. So today I'm indulging and balancing, both, in celebration of feeling fine.

Mom, for her part, is indulging alongside me as she convalesces. She came home from the hospital last night feeling much better, with no fever and a whole host of prescriptions: antibiotics, steroids for her arthritis, OTC allergy meds and cough syrup. Joel and I picked up the prescriptions last night but got the allergy and cough meds all wrong so unfortunately Mom was up all night coughing.

This morning I walked to the Walgreen's to get Mom some better cough suppressant and the kind of allergy meds that put you to sleep instead of keeping you "non-drowsy." While there I also indulged my new obsession with lip balm - my childbirth educator said you can't have enough of it during labor, and I hate having chapped lips.
by Juliet Email me

Sat, Dec 06 2003

Pestilence

My home has become an incubator for disease. First Joel was sick, now my mom has gotten really sick with this awful flu that's going around. I've fought it off all week, but now I feel it nipping at my heels. I've begun to feel the telltale headache that started it off for Mom and Joel, and am praying that my pregnant immune system can win not just the battle, but the war.

But enough about me. I took Mom to the emergency room this morning because she had a 102* fever and had been vomiting for a number of hours. That and she is 60 years old and takes immune suppressants for her rheumatoid arthritis, a very bad combination at flu season. They kept her at the hospital overnight because they couldn't get her fever to go down, and even when it did it just sprang back up again. Very bad, but at least she's in a place where they can monitor her, pump her full of antibiotics and fever-reducing drugs and give her an IV so she doesn't get dehydrated. Though less personal, it beats the Nyquil and wet washcloth she would have gotten here.

Still, I feel awful that she's here in Chicago to be with me during my pregnancy and childbirth, and it's costing her so much in terms of her health. Joel reminds me that she's a big girl and can make her own decisions, no matter what the consequences might be. True, but it doesn't make it much easier to spend one's morning just hoping against hope that she wouldn't get any worse. And actually she was getting worse. By the time she got into triage at the emergency room, her fever was 103*.

Meanwhile I'm still trying to make sure I don't get any sicker than this cold I've had all week. I ran out of soy milk a couple of days ago and had to break my 3-cup a day habit. That's when I began to feel, well, different. Have you ever heard of soy milk being good for immunity? Me neither. But just in case, I picked up some at the store on the way home from taking Mom's overnight stuff to the hospital. That, some pears and more blackberries. Please, oh please let it help.
by Juliet Email me

Fri, Dec 05 2003

Great news!

I have finally FINALLY set up my julietmartinez.com email address, julietma@julietmartinez.com. You can now use it in a variety of ways.

1. Click on any link on this site that says Email me. Your default email program will address an email to julietma@julietmartinez.com

2. Just email me directly by sending messages to julietma@julietmartinez.com

And in other exciting news, a much more tech-savvy friend of mine has offered to help me put a guest book on this site. All I can say right now is that it is in the works, but I will update you all as things progress.
by Juliet Email me

Blackberries singing in the dead of night

I'm happy to announce that I finally have what is commonly known in pregnancy circles as a craving. It started Tuesday night after my appointment with my midwife, but I wasn't able to indulge in until Wednesday night when I went to the grocery story. I'm craving blackberries, and thank goodness they can be purchased frozen at this time of year.

Until now I haven't had many strong cravings. There was that time that I woke up around five in the morning wanting nectarines, and another time during my first trimester when all food repulsed me but I wanted Ethiopian (that food was so good it almost made me cry). But other than that, I haven't had a lot of cravings, and certainly not in the way that most people describe, in which a satanic growl issues from the mother-to-be's throat: "GET ME TANGERINE JELLO."

No. My cravings have involved just thinking about a food more than I usually would, then eating and liking it. Contrary to the popular image, I have procured most of my crave foods myself during daylight or early evening hours, not sent Joel out in the middle of the night for them. I'm an independent sort of person. Joel does generally enjoy getting me what I want or encouraging me to indulge my cravings, but I don't mind making the trip myself if necessary.

I did do something frighteningly typical of pregnant women a couple of weeks ago. Everybody's heard of pregnant women eating pickles and ice cream, or other weird combinations of salty and sweet, right? Well, when Joel took me for dinner to Bobak's, a Polish buffet restaurant near the house, I actually ate baby Polish dill pickles with apple pancakes. I know you won't believe me, but that was damn good. You should try it.

But anyone can enjoy frozen blackberries (sometimes defrosted in the microwave) and Stonyfield Farm low-fat vanilla yogurt, or frozen blackberries and Breyers Dulce de Leche ice cream. And then, if you're really feeling crazy, just frozen blackberries by themselves. Heaven.

by Juliet Email me

Thu, Dec 04 2003

House of ill health

I am proud (and a little disturbed) to say I am now the most well person in my home. Joel's fever is down and the antibiotics seem to be helping with his bronchitis. Now he just has to beat the flu. Mom, for her part, is now sick with the flu, in bed with what so far is a low-grade fever, body ache and cough.

So my measly chest-and-head cold is small potatoes compared to their kitten-like states. I can still cook food, do dishes and run to the store for cans of chicken-noodle soup, which makes me feel positively Olympic. The crazy thing is that I'm the pregnant one with the compromised immune system, but apparently something I'm doing is working for me.

The tricky part is that now I'm supposed to stay away from both Joel and my mom, but how the hell am I supposed to do that when walking to the bathroom is all they can handle? Someone's got to supply them with hot beverages, soup and the occasional piece of toast. That someone is me! I'm hoping that my (CJ recommended) diet of fresh pears, tons of veggies and whatever protein I can stand will keep me in shape to take care of them, at the very least until they're well.

All this would be terribly depressing, but I'm kind of enjoying the time alone that I get between taking people's temperatures and giving them soup, Tylenol, tea and toast. Besides, I'm now the one person in this house who doesn't have bed head. That counts for something. :)
by Juliet Email me

Wed, Dec 03 2003

Quarantine

Because of Joel's bronchitis, he and I are under doctor's orders to stay further away from each other than we're used to so I don't get sick. Sleeping in the same bed is out of the question, so I'm on Mom's bed and she's on the sofa. Don't ask me how things got arranged this way - suffice to say that I was ready to sleep on a mattress on the kitchen floor so Joel and I could still talk if he was awake. Mom has been getting up with Joel and making sure he gets his medicines, enough to drink, etc. Bless her heart a thousand times.

But I feel like Joel and I have entered into some kind of bizarre courtship because of this restriction on how close we can be. Last night I sat on the floor of the kitchen for a good couple of hours so Joel and I could chat through the door of our bedroom between his naps. It was great to talk, but I just wanted to hold him. When I woke up about 40 minutes ago, my thoughts on waking were how I could sneak past my mom and crawl in bed with Joel, as if this separation were based on my mother's enforcement of premarital chastity.

It's strange being so near to Joel but not being able to be close to him, especially when he's sick. Usually when he gets sick I give him the full invalid treatment. I get a certain satisfaction from fussing over him, making sure he's warm enough, getting him tea and soup, and all the other little affections that make being sick more bearable. And seeing my normally robust hubby so vulnerable conjures up an almost overwhelming tenderness in me.

Yesterday before he went to the doctor it had occurred to me that this would be the last time I could focus my energy on him like that. Whenever he is sick once the baby is here, it will be a balancing act between the baby's needs and his. I guess last time I could fuss over him like that was the last time he got sick, and I don't even remember when that was.
by Juliet Email me

Tue, Dec 02 2003

Bad blogger

I'm just here to say what a very, very bad blogger I've become in the last few weeks. Where are the introspective pieces? Where are the humorous anecdotes?

I think I've just become a little too much of a hermit lately. I've been spending way too much time with my mom, whom I love dearly but is no substitute for a variety of social contacts. My contact with friends is beginning to resemble what I imagine a minimum-security prison allows, but with less face-to-face contact. So I'm going to start working on that.

Last night I was actually planning to see Annie, but Joel came home really sick with that awful flu that's been going around. I realize I need to avoid getting myself sick, but I didn't want to go out gallivanting around while he might need a refresher on his cool forehead cloth.

But this evening I'll be getting out on my own for a little bit when I go to my appointment with my midwife! I'm so excited to be out of the high risk category and able to resume a normal, low key pregnancy. Still so psyched about that. My mom will of course go with me to at least a couple of future appointments so she can meet the midwives, but I think tonight I'll go alone. It's another little sign that things are back to normal.
by Juliet Email me