Baby Love

At 20.5 weeks in Siquijor. Needed the scarf to keep my hair in place on that windy day. A friend said I look like a pirate. Shiver me timbers! (Photo by Fel)

I am now at week 24 and I get kind of panicky when I think about how little time we have til little monster arrives. I can now understand why people always say that kids grow up too fast--I feel like this pregnancy is just zooming by!

At 23 weeks, with my best friend (34 weeks) at her glam baby shower. We call ourselves BBFFs--buntis best friends forever.

I think I'm pretty big for 24 weeks (someone thought I was seven months preggers!), and I am so worried about my blood sugar test and weigh-in tomorrow! I resolved to cut back on my sugar, but it's not that easy considering people are constantly sending me food, plus I've been eating out at great restaurants for various reasons (anniversary, mom's birthday, a NY boss was in town...). And when you're pregnant, one of the hardest things to do is to say no to food!!!

At 24 weeks: dinner with a NY boss at Las Flores

I think by next month, we really have to start thinking about details--how to rearrange the bedrooms, where we'll put all the stuff that will be displaced, finding a yaya... A few days ago, a friend asked if I had thought about whether we would be using cloth or disposable diapers. I broke out in a cold sweat, because it represented everything I hadn't thought about. I've just been enjoying being pregnant, feeling this hyper one kick and move around, hearing people tell me that I'm "glowing," and being the recipient of such good vibes from people who can't help but be nice to the little round lady.

Sixteen weeks to go. On the one hand, I want to meet the little monster already (and start running again). On the other, I really wish time would slow down--it's possessive but I like having him or her all to myself (and, well, H), and sharing those intimate moments with my husband when he kisses my tummy and whispers for the little one to kick.

Three Years

A sweet treat from the folks at Aubergine

Three things I've learned from three years of marriage:

1. Choose your battles. You can't make an issue out of every little thing, because eventually, you'll either just resent each other or tune each other out. Besides, who wants to live in a state of constant bickering? Learn to let some things go, and make your case when it really matters.

2. Learn his language of love (and yours). It sounds cheesy, but it helps. You can love a person with all you've got, but if you speak different languages, there might be some miscommunication. For example, his language may be "receiving gifts," so he shows his love for you the way he knows how: by giving you little presents. You, on the other hand, may be a sucker for "words of affirmation," so the gifts--with no sweet nothings behind them--may do nothing for you. Talk about lost in translation.  

Sometimes you can figure out what an underlying problem is when you know what your language is. I've realized that my languages are "quality time" and "physical touch," which means proximity is important to me. (I'd have a hell of a time managing a long-distance relationship!) So when I'm feeling particularly pissy or lonely or hormonal, it might be because I feel like I'm not getting enough QT with my man, and the solution is to spend a couple of hours together.

3. The secret to a happy marriage? Choose wisely. It all starts from there. Some girls have some sort of messianic complex--it's the reason we fall for the bad boys. Deep down, we want to be the ones to change them. But when it comes to men, what you see is what you get--so marry someone for who he is, not for who you think he will (or should) be. I married a man who opened doors for me, waited for me even when I was hours late, loved spending time with me, was very secure with himself, let me do my own thing, made me feel safe, respected my family, did random acts of kindness, and loved my mom. He still does. I was overjoyed to marry that man, but after saying "I do," I was quite happy to discover that he would also cook for me, give me back massages and foot rubs, wash the dishes, call me on his way home to ask if I was hungry and if I wanted anything... The thing is, even if I didn't get all these surprising extras, I would marry him all over again. Because from the start, I already loved him for who he was.

My Body Peg

Remember this?

No one could compare to Britney at her prime (i.e., pre-KFed). Sure, she was lipsyncing in this performance, but her body was perfection, and her moves were just so incredibly sharp. And that walk--who else could make a simple walk just drip with sexiness? Even without that snake on her shoulders, she would have totally worked it.

Yes, I love being preggers and all, but truth be told, there are days when I just feel so utterly unattractive. "Round" isn't exactly synonymous with sexy. Once this baby comes out, I shall 30-Day-Shred/Insanity/Asylum/disc my way to a "Slave-4-U"-worthy body.

Yoga for Two

Yoga studio Urban Ashram had a certification course for pre-natal yoga with Birthright founder Dr. Francoise Barbira-Freedman. I wish I could tell you I got certified, but all I did was attend one of their guinea pig classes! My good friend, yoga teacher/Runner's World editor/makeup artist extraordinaire Marie, who took the course, invited me to join a session a few days ago.

Dr. Barbia-Freedman with Marie. Photo from Urban Ashram's Facebook page.

Up until then, my only experience of pre-natal yoga was courtesy of Youtube. Some of the moves during class were similar to the video moves, so I was relieved to learn that I had been following something legit. Haha. The main differences between live class and video:

• Partner interaction. For some moves, I paired up with a fellow pregnant lady (now on her fourth baby!); for others, I paired up with Marie. One girl came with her husband, another with her mother. I imagine this is a great way to bond, and that there's a stronger flow of energy.
• More tutok. Since the class was mostly made up of teachers, they were very hands-on when it came to correcting and adjusting poses.
• More TLC! The teachers were very considerate of the expectant mothers, propping up pillows, rolling up blankets, all to make sure that we were as comfy as possible.

There are also marked differences between regular yoga and the pre-natal kind. A few things I learned:

• It's easier! As well it should be. I get out of breath doing a frickin' cheater's pushup now!
• Pre-natal yoga doesn't really hold the poses. 
• There's a bit of a fun element--some shake-shake-shaking involved, and the occasional shoutout to the little one ("Hi, baby!").
• Must work on pelvic area. During the class, there were hip rolls and strengthening moves, I think to help with childbirth. (Or, at least, I hope so. I still can't imagine spewing another human being out of me! Ack.)
• Must work on breathing. Dr. Barbira-Freedman helped one of the participants correct her breathing. One of the teachers taught me how to breathe in such a way that's supposed to make delivery (dare I say it) easier.
• Must buy new sports bras.

My only photo from class, taken while waiting for everyone else. Apparently, three of us attended yoga.

Since it was a trial class, there were a few little kinks, but over all, it was a good experience. I felt sooo many cracks and pops as I stretched, and was so relaxed at the end that I had to really be mindful about staying awake (not an easy feat when you're kind of tried, lying on your side, and hugging a pillow at the end of class!).

For more info on Urban Ashram Manila and their classes, visit their website.

Past the Halfway Mark

I know this blog has all been blah blah blah baby blah blah blah pregnancy lately. Forgive me. It's hard to think about other things when you have a little monster growing inside you. (That, and I've cut back significantly on my extra-curriculars since getting preggers.)

So I'm officially at 21 weeks, and depending on who you believe, I'm either big or small for 21 weeks. It's confusing. Last night, one girl said, "Ang laki mo! (You're so big!)" and two minutes later, another person said, "Ang liit mo! (You're so small!)" So I choose to believe that I am just right! It's funny when people see my front and say, "You don't look pregnant at all."

 At 20 weeks

Then I turn to the side, and bam! There it is.

I felt like frickin' Winnie the Pooh in this jersey.

Ze monster has progressed from giving little bubbly flutters to full-blown kicks. Pretty cool, and still surprising even when it happens pretty often now. I've dubbed the evening "happy hour" because that's when it's most active. And the sweet thing is, it responds to its daddy! On week 20, Hamil put his hand on my belly and started talking to the little monster, and it responded with a mighty kick. Other people have tried to get a response, but nothing. The only other person it responds to is Mozart. (Either it appreciates classical music, or is telling me to play some damn 2Pac.)

I'm also starting to stick to a routine now. With a flexible schedule, it's so easy to fall into the trap of anything-goes, but the baby and I need a more predictable sched--plus, I need some exercise! So I'm trying to get myself out of bed early, down a glass of milk, do a prenatal workout, then have breakfast before going to work. In the evening, I put my feet up while reading my belly a story, then meditate to classical music. Let's hope I can keep this up. I haven't read a single parenting book, but if there's anything I've learned, it's that children need structure.

Nineteen weeks to go.

Traveling with Excess Baggage

 Baby on board

At 20 weeks--halfway through my pregnancy--my days of gallivanting are numbered. So I decided to go back (yet again) to Dumaguete before I'm forced to stay put. And while I had all three Roaches jerseys and cheered from the sidelines through scorching heat and torrential rains, I sadly wasn't able to take part in the team's quest for their fifth Shindig victory. 

I was, however, able to spend four days with forty (!) fun people from disc. I even got to party a bit...

...although of course there was no more drinking or staying out til dawn. And I got to eat...

 At Lab-as, where we had Dumaguete Express, tinolang lapu-lapu, grilled spicy squid, and more

 ...and eat...

 At Sansrival Bistro with the Warriors

...and eat...

 At Nevas for pizza, pasta, and (I gotta admit) a pahabol rice meal order

...and eat!

 

 Massacre at the beach: our grilled fish merienda

And my OB would be proud--I was under strict orders to have "tikim lang" (just a taste) of Dumaguete's to-die-for sweets, and I'm pleased to report that I just had one little bite of chocolate silvanas throughout the entire trip. This, despite the fact that I was at Sansrival three times, with their salted caramel cheesecake calling out to me.

I also got to go on a side trip to gorgeous Siquijor, my friends' tik-tik jokes be damned. (Upon a teammate's insistence, I did spend the overnight trip with three chili peppers in my pocket.)

Photo c/o Cali

The little monster even got to (sort of) feel the sea for the first time.

 

And lastly, I got to experience how good people are to you when you're preggers! I can't thank everyone enough for going out of their way to make sure I was comfortable. People carried my bag for me, gave me food, made sure I was hydrated, considered the best place for me to sleep ("Dito na lang para madali kang makapunta sa banyo"), and even defended me against an a-hole Manila driver who had no regard for a pregnant woman crossing the street (thanks, boys!). 

It was a great trip, but the best part, undoubtedly, was feeling all the love from such awesome friends.

Prayers, Please

In case you haven't heard, Luzon (Metro Manila and some of the provinces) has turned into some sort of Waterworld. I'm one of the lucky ones--our area doesn't get flooded, we have electricity, running water, and even cable TV and internet. But, like, 90% of the city is flooded so we didn't have work today. We stayed home, and I felt helpless as I read my Twitter feed. Really, some of the tweets are heartbreaking--one woman gave birth on a rooftop, a 75-year-old grandfather was stuck on another rooftop since morning, delivery boys on duty were getting berated for being late (can you imagine? These customers are asking these boys to risk their lives to bring them pizza, and they have the nerve to get mad!), a hospital was flooded nearly til its third floor where the nursery was located. Some of my friends have had to evacuate the homes they rebuilt after the flood three years ago.  Depressing stuff.:(

When you read this, please say a prayer for the Philippines. It's still raining.