Holy Halfway - I'm hungry!

20 weeks - then and now!

Twenty weeks in - halfway there! And I know I've only done 3 blog posts thus far, but how have I gone this long without talking about food and the fact that I am now constantly starving?!

The further away it gets, the less I remember about my pregnancy with Ivy, at least certain aspects of it. I remember feeling decently lousy during the first trimester, meager appetite, threw up a few times, really tired, etc. This time...holy moly! There were several mornings where I could barely lift my head off the pillow, and the spent the day attempting to work on my laptop in bed. The nausea only got worse as the day dragged on. I would walk to pick up Ivy in her stroller, and inevitably stop at Walgreens to get a Gatorade, the only thing that would ensure I would make it home without covering my daughter and Whitworth Ave. in puke. At that point, my saint of a husband would take over most child care duties relieving me of having to move and wallowing in my self-imposed guilt that I wasn't spending much time with her. AND I was still barfing into week 17!

Food is funny - it's not like I'm craving one particular thing, or totally averse to anything (last time, I couldn't go near salad; this time I'm forcing myself to eat it). It's more like the power of suggestion (visually, olfactory, or aurally) either makes me want to vomit or get some right now! Cheese pizza - I could it eat it 3 times a day every day (preferably day old, reheated in the toaster oven - I know, I'm specific). Indian food - don't even go there. And the same item doesn't always illicit the same response. One week, I was plowing through salt and pepper potato chips, and the next I couldn't bare to look at the bag. And I don't know who decided that GINGER was good for nausea, because it just makes me want to puke. Give me a good piece of bread and cheese and let's call it a day. Oh, and don't even get me started on how miserable I was during Passover! Who takes away bread from a pregnant woman??!!

I've been trying so hard to eat healthy even while my body was rejecting all notions of a balanced diet, and I'm trying to not repeat my mistakes last time (homemade Diddy Reese ice cream sandwiches for a month straight = 10lbs gained and a wrist slap from my doctor). But damn when all I could think of was vanilla milkshakes, look out! The least embarrassing part of that particular indulgence, surprisingly, is that I got the milkshake at McDonalds. What's worse is that I went through the drive through. Dear god, what has become of me? If you know me and my generally healthy, mostly vegetarian, kosher eating habits, you are probably shocked to be reading this on many levels. Yikes! Okay, I know I'm judging people who go through drive-throughs. But I never expected myself to stoop THAT low! And in full partnership, Mike sank down there with me and ordered up his own milkshake. Ivy, in the backseat, whimpered "Iwan one!" Oy.

Oh yeah, and Mike has sympathy cravings I think...but they're not necessarily in line with mine. At one point I MAY have mentioned onion rings which led Mike to believe I was craving a Blooming Onion, which one gets at the Outback Steakhouse. Well the first problem is that I won't eat there, at least not the meat. Second, I think the closest one is at least 30 miles away...though that's probably a good thing because no one we know would see us there. Now Mike is incessantly reminding me that we need to go to Outback to get a Blooming Onion, and may have convinced our preggers friends Penina and Aaron to come along too...though same kosher issues apply. Aaron has thought that one through, apparently, and again the distance from our normal circle of peers helps, especially for the rabbis...Ontario here we come?

Eat your heart out Mike!

Anyway I'm looking forward to summer and eating lots of fresh, sweet fruits. Last time, I was pregnant through winter and devoured oranges and grapefruits like they were going out of style. I have so far gotten really into pineapple (ate almost an entire one by myself not too long ago) and all berries. I recently indulged in the season's first big summer watermelon. Mmmmm...juicy.

Speaking of food, can we talk vegetarianism for a moment? Being kosher has meant that I have mostly become a vegetarian by default. I don't eat meat out (unless it's kosher), and with kosher meat being expensive to buy, whatwith our tight budget and all, we don't cook a ton of meat at home. I've further struggled with going whole hog (silly expression here, I know) on becoming vegetarian, because I truly believe in some of the ethical and environmental reasons that say I should. But having grown up eating meat and not being repulsed by it (I don't really crave steaks or anything, but if a delicious kosher one was sitting in front of me I would probably eat it), I have yet to be tipped over the edge. And by keeping kosher, I am already exponentially more aware of what I eat than I was before, which is part of the whole point in my opinion.

All that being said, I decided that one of my new year's resolutions was going to go veg once and for all. I didn't think this would be hard, considering how close I already was. We have tons of great vegetarian and vegan cookbooks, and I'm used to looking for the lone vegetarian item on a menu or ordering an otherwise healthy and interesting salad substituting something for the chicken. I made it almost a month. And then I got knocked up.

But before I even knew about the baby, I had still made it only 4 weeks. I went to a dinner meeting at Pico Kosher Deli, where frankly, if you show up and order an egg salad sandwich, you're missing the point. I caved. I ordered the turkey club (mmm, fried pastrami bits playing the role of bacon), and loved every bite. Did not regret it for a second. I tried to convince myself that it didn't count and I would go back to the resolution, but then I peed on the stick, my world came crashing down, and all of a sudden I could not get enough protein. And interestingly enough, really only in the form of turkey at first! Turkey burgers, turkey sandwiches, turkey meatloaf. Good god, I've created a monster! I'm officially over the vegetarian experiment for now. Perhaps we will resume some time in the future. In the meantime, back to my regularly scheduled eating program...whatever that is.

Oy a Boy (maybe)

Hello.

This is my first post in a while so I wanted to start with a simple greeting. That, and Ivy kept us up all night, it's 8:17 pm, and I'm ready to pass out. 8 pm is Ivy's bedtime; 9 pm is mine.

The main point I want to express in this web log (did you know that's where the word "blog" came from? Learn new things every day) is our frustration over boy names. Why are boy names so awful? Since we aren't going to find out what we're having (although human has been confirmed, unless our doctor is switching the ultrasound pics on us like in V - not a good show, BTW), we have to be prepared with boy and girl names. We've thought of multiple good girl names (and knocked it out of the park last time with Ivy), but boy names are really, really hard. Even the name we thought of last time around for if Ivy was a boy doesn't seem like a good choice to us any more, so we are back to square one.

The thing with boy names is, you gotta keep it simple. Girl names can be pretty and long and fun, but boy names have to be compact (especially when your last name is Silverstein). A long frilly boy name is just an invitation for the kid to get beat. But a lot of the good short names are already taken by current Silversteins: Mike, Pete, Paul, Steve, David. (Not counting Bruce here, as there's no way in hell we would name our kid Bruce - sorry Bruce).

Also there's the "S" factor. There are a lot of S's in "Silverstein," so I'm a little hesitant about giving the kid a name with too many S's in it (in case he lisps), or with an Sh sound (like Josh Silverstein just wouldn't work - it would come out Josh Shilvershein). Of course, many of the dead relatives who we would name the kid after have S names, so we're a little behind the eight ball there (it's Jewish tradition to name a child after a dead relative and never after a living one). If we get really desperate, we might have to knock off one of our living relatives who has a good name, although I doubt it'll come to that. Though I'm not ruling anything out at the moment.

Slight tangent: Since so many people name their kids after dead relatives, now all these old man and old woman names are becoming trendy names for little kids. One girl name that we really liked (or at least I liked) we recently ruled out because it's become too trendy, even though for all intents and purposes it's an old woman's name. (It was not Ethel; Ethel is never coming back).

So feel free to send us suggestions for good boy names and we'll tell you why they've been ruled out already. We are shooting for specific first letters based on relatives we'd like to honor, but I don't want to reveal them at the moment. Suffice it to say all the letters we're considering have been used at least once in this blog post so far.

Of course, we could always come back to the old standby, the most popular boy name in the world: Muhammed.

Toodles,

Mike

How a self-proclaimed control freak handles an unplanned pregnancy

This was a big weekend for me…I finally pulled out the garbage bag of maternity clothes. I was trying to hold out as long as possible and frankly I’m amazed I’ve made it to almost 20 weeks, given my already protruding belly. Fortunately most of my jeans are low rise and stretchy, and those pants that aren’t have been saved by my belly bands. But I decided I was sick of stretching out shirts and dresses, so out the clothes came. I have some major washing and ironing to do in all my spare time. Ha!

It was also a big weekend for Ivy, as she decided on Friday night that she wanted to sit on the potty. I majorly cringed, since we were at the JCC and those toilets are notoriously nasty, but it was still an awesome moment. She sat there in her diaper, pulled some TP, and then was done. She didn’t actually do anything but my dream of having only one set of diapers to manage come October is slowly becoming reality.

And speaking of dreams, this morning we went to an open house at the IKAR Early Childhood Center where she’ll be starting preschool in the fall. It was a beautiful and inspiring morning, and I am so blessed to send her to this school. She’ll be in the Jewish community that she loves and learning from some talented and loving educators. I love that we’re helping to start this from scratch and building the program and space of our dreams. Ivy had so much fun playing with crafts, getting her face painted, pushing an Ernie doll in a stroller, and then helping to clean up. I guess it’s good sign that we couldn’t get her to leave, even long after most of her friends had left.

I didn't take any pics, so photo credit to Shawn Landres for this one!

Sooooo…are you ready for more back story? Picking up from the next logical point based on my last post, I will reassure you that I was the PERFECT pill-taker. I never missed one, always took it the same time, no antibiotics, nothing. This was the only reason why I decided to use this method – because I knew I could do it. I am very much a play-by-the-rules kind of girl, and I figured if my insurance wouldn’t cover any other method (Blue Shield can suck it) I may as well go with what I know.

To say I was surprised with this situation is putting it mildly. I’m not going to lie – the next several weeks were not easy. I had to wrestle with so many questions and emotions, all while trying to navigate this new course I found myself on. Thank god for the support of some of our closest friends who assured me that everything would be okay and I could do this. And how lucky am I that I have friends who are rabbis and OBs and generally great therapists?

Even as I found my excitement growing for this new little person who would be entering our lives, I still couldn’t comprehend how I had gotten here. I thought I had been in complete control of my life and my reproductive future, as much as I possibly could have been. I am smart and educated – I know how pregnancy happens and how it can be prevented, and what the effectiveness rates of various methods are. I was in CONTROL. I did everything I could to NOT be where I found myself almost 4 months ago, and yet here I stood completely and utterly lacking control over what had just happened. I had no idea how to understand this.

One of my close friends, when I confided in him what was going on, told me I was going to have to give up control of this situation. If I wanted to control the pregnancy, my uterus, and my life to the degree I wanted to, I could have ended the pregnancy. But because he already knew that we decided not to do that, there was no sense in worrying about control. I needed to let go and just be. In some ways I had already done this; but saying goodbye to control is not easy. I keep looking back wistfully, as it slips further and further away without any explanation. It’s a process, one that I become more comfortable with every day.

Another friend turned the same notion on its head. Again, without any prompt from me, he recognized that control was (and always has been) a big issue for me, and in the capacity in which he knows me understands how easily my confidence is shaken when I'm not in control. He suggested that I think of a time in my life when I was in control, and what that felt like and what I could do to return to that place. In control of my whole life?? Or just a piece of it? I'm not even sure what that place is...it certainly doesn't exist in a vacuum. Again, this is an ongoing process.

I’ve learned throughout all of this that giving up control also means reexamining the choices you have in front of you, and simultaneously having the faith that things will be okay (RSB made me make that my mantra – "it will be okay...it will be okay..."). I hated how cliche that sounded because it seemed like an easy cop-out for not having to deal with real struggles and pain. I KNOW things will work out eventually, and they've already gotten SO much better, but I still need to navigate the path to that point of total acceptance and peace. I love a particular teaching from the brilliant Rabbi Brad Artson, which I happened to hear him speak about in the early weeks of my pregnancy, about God as a GPS navigator. When we miss a direction we have to recalculate, and God sets us on the next best path if we stray from the intended one. This is constantly happening throughout our lives. Did you miss the right turn? It's okay, God will figure out how to get you to your destination via some other detour or series of turns. I missed the turn big time, and now I'm figuring out how to recalculate to get back on track. I'm not even sure of the destination any more, but all I know for sure is that the scenery may be a little different going this new route than if I hadn't missed the turn. Maybe I'll even like the scenery.

And with the recalculated route comes a whole new set of choices and an opportunity to reflect on previous choices as well. This experience has been a startling reminder of the choices we have made for our lives and forced us to continue to be at peace and be happy with those choices, even as new ones emerge (double wide or double long stroller?). We chose to have children at this moment in our lives because we were ready (at least for Ivy)...it was a natural point in our relationship to do this. Choosing this, tangled up with unpredictable elements in our lives like our careers, meant that we would likely never be able to buy a home (we love living in LA too much) or be able to travel and take vacations. We've become okay with that. We still dream that we may get to do those things someday, but at the end of the day we have Ivy and each other and none of it could be replaced by any house or trip to Europe or weekend getaway. And soon we will have Dos, God willing, and while that puts many of our other dreams even further out of reach, our dream of growing our loving family becomes realized. And to be able to make this choice really and truly is a blessing of having a GPS.

And speaking of new courses, I start my new job tomorrow. (Just in the nick of time, right?) I've been sitting on a very generous gift card from my inlaws that they gave me for my birthday (boy am I glad I didn't immediately blow it on clothes!), so I treated myself to a new purse for the new job. It's so yummy, I just had to post a pic:

Wish me luck!

"Even the lesbians are fertile!"

Wow! Thanks to everyone for so much love and support and well wishes, and for your concern over my vague indication that all has not been so rosy. Rest assured - baby is fine, I'm healthy, and you don't need to panic, or even mildly worry. And I promise this blog isn't going to be a downer, but I am still trying to sort out what I want to share with the world and how I'm going to say it. So the "back story" that I promised will likely come in chunks, and possibly even out of chronological order.

Here's my feeling about “surprise” pregnancies (I believe that is the more PC term for “accident”). On the baby/mommy boards where I frequently lurk and occasionally post, women are constantly making announcements along the lines of "OMG! I'm pregnant! I'm SO surprised!...I mean we weren't trying, but we weren't really preventing either. Yay surprises!" EEEHHHH - wrong! Not preventing??? I'm sorry, no surprise there. Perhaps, rather, you're biologically misinformed. (Sex ed in school has gone down the tubes, after all, and boy is it obvious.) Just watch "16 and Pregnant" and you get the idea...whoa, can you say "train wreck?" Although - digression here - on the season 2 "Life After Labor" reunion show, 3 of the 10 girls were supposedly using birth control correctly when they got pregnant. My memory serves me differently from those episodes (they ALL had the staged conversations with their friends that went "OMG, weren't you like using like birth control?" "no..."), and maybe they just thought "pull and pray" was a viable form...wait, what was I talking about?

A true surprise pregnancy is "HOLY SHIT I was on the PILL!" (Shout out to Rachel...sound familiar?!)

Oh TIME, how you taunt me when I open the mail...

So small (sure). So powerful (well...). And so misunderstood (especially by my body!).

Yup, you read that right. I was on birth control pills. Believe me, THIS was a shocker to end all shockers. No matter how many 99 Cent Store pregnancy tests (the only way to go - they're just as accurate and a wee fraction of the cost of brand name ones) I peed on, the result didn't change. How did this happen?!

I'm going to leave you with this question dangling until the next post. Meanwhile, just as my pregnancy with Ivy, we're in good company again and Dos - that's what we're calling it ("Two" in Spanish for the language-impaired) - already has a full class. In fact it seems like every week there's another pregnancy announcement amongst our friends. But that's what happens at IKAR...seriously, don't drink the water here unless you want to get knocked up. (Who am I kidding? That wouldn't be so terrible for our ECC enrollment!) According to my friend Candice and fellow mama-to-be "even the lesbians are fertile!"

And lest we forget sweet little Ivy, who on a daily basis makes us ache from laughter, who is preparing to turn 2:

Now that it's on the Interwebz...I guess it's official!

Uh, testing...is this thing on? ::tap tap tap::

Yes, it's true. The blog is coming out of hibernation. It's been WAY too long. You know, when you're wrangling a toddler and working and dealing with life and such, frivolities like blogging just get brushed aside. Frankly, I'm also trying to read more books this days, and I've gotten really sucked into GLEE, but that's another story. What changed, then? Funny you should ask...read on:

Back on February 3, my dear friend Amy and faithful blog reader posted on my Facebook page, wondering about the status of this here blog - had we given up? I explained my above-mentioned reasons, and said maybe when the next kid comes around we'll start it up again...but that wouldn't be for a LONG time.

What is it they say - you make plans and God laughs? Famous last words? Or something cliche like that...

Two days and 4 pregnancy tests later...gulp.

SURPRISE! Here we go again! BabySilv 2.0!

(Okay, I know for probably 95% of you who just read that this is "the announcement"...and I hate that I did it via blog and Facebook and whatnot, but again, things change. Sorry, very few people got personal phone calls. And I know I'm already about 18 weeks along, well into the second trimester, but again, the situation has been complicated.)

Believe me, there is a LOT of back story which I will get around to sharing soon. In fact, this revived iteration of the blog will also share some of the more challenging parts of this pregnancy and of parenting, in addition of course to the endless humor that inevitably ensues. I have found incredible support and strength in reading blogs from other moms who have experienced some of the things that I have gone through in the last couple years, especially in the last couple months. And I can only hope that if this blog is being spread virally (am I kidding myself that more than 3 people read it?) I can be a source of support and strength to others, even if I never know about it.

So I guess we're back to chronicling this next kid's life in the womb, with the added twist of Ivy's role in all of it. Stay tuned - it's going to be a bumpy ride!

Kiss the baby...

Use your words...and your feet!

Update here from the land of Silverstein. We are settled in quite nicely to our home, and the only things standing in the way of completion are a fabulous bedspread for the guest room (shout out to Andrea for her handy skills!) and the Closet of Shame. We have 3 kinds of fruit-bearing trees - figs (an overabundance, if I may say so), limes (not ripe yet), and avocados. It's fun watching the squirrels go after the fruit and chuck the remains...(note to self, do not leave Ivy's pink buggy under the fig tree). We also adopted a sweet hand-me-down play set with a slide and climbing aparatus. Ivy is enjoying that as well, and we are beyond pleased with the new set up.

It's been the summer of ultimate staycations, as we've been on the receiving end of many out of town family member and friend visits. First we had Elyse and Shira from Boston, which was great fun since I haven't seen Elyse in ages and Shira since she was about Ivy's age (she's now 9), so that was lovely to get caught up. The following weekend, Mike's parents came to town and we had many an adventure with them - beaching, brunching, farmers marketing, etc. And finally last weekend, The Fluffies (aka Aunt Erica and Uncle Adam) came for a visit. We relaxed and took Ivy on her first trip to the zoo.

Speaking of animals, my daughter has developed quite the vocabulary, consisting of mostly animal sounds, in addition to "mommy", "daddy", "I-y!" (her name, without the V) and, most importantly, "shoes." Here's a little video of our chatterbox:

And then, on precisely the day she turned 14 months, she decided to put those little feet into action. Here she is, our little walker:

Photo and video editing at www.OneTrueMedia.com

Won't you be my neighbor?

Despite my hopes at blogging more often, this whole moving thing really threw a wrench in that plan. We're still unpacking, 2 weeks later, and have a soft deadline of this weekend to get things in order when our first house guests arrive. But I'm getting ahead of myself... Here's the LONG version (if the Facebook status updates didn't paint the whole picture):

Before we moved in, we were very excited to meet the neighbors who live upstairs (duplex, remember?) because they have 2 kids - 2 1/2 and 6 months. Perfect - built in friends! And we can share backyard playthings! We imagined all the fun we would have together and how sad we would be when they move (they're planning to move by the end of the year).

Tues: It's night 3 in the house, and Ivy is having a really hard time going to sleep. It's very warm out, she's in a new room, she's on the verge of some big milestones, etc., so the fact that her sleep is disrupted is not terribly worrisome. We put her to sleep at normal time (7:00, give or take) and let her cry a little, since she knows how to self-sooth within 10-15 minutes. At this point the neighbor comes down and gently asks us if we would mind closing the windows in her room since her room is right under their baby's room. I oblige, and crank up the fan (note to self - power bill is going to SUCK!).

By 8 she is awake crying, and our babysitter Y has arrived so Mike and I can go back to the old apartment to finish packing up. We get her back down before we leave, but she wakes while we're gone. Y calls us, and after about 5-10 minutes of crying Ivy is asleep again. She wakes yet again right as I'm about to leave to take Y home, at 10:15. Mike goes in to rock her back to sleep, and I drive Y home, who lives 2 blocks away. The roundtrip could not have taken more than 3 minutes if I tried.

I get out of the car and this is the conversation:

S: Is something wrong with your baby?

Me: No...she's just having a hard time adjusting to her new surroundings, and it's hot...

S: Because she's been crying for 3 hours and its waking my baby up!

Me: Umm...well she wakes up but goes back to sleep...

S: Do you guys just leave her there alone?

Me: (Stunned) NO! We had a babysitter while we were gone (you batshitcrazy lady!)!

S: Well I just saw you leaving!

Me: I went to drive the babysitter home while my husband is inside rocking her back to sleep!

And the madness continued with no end in sight for another couple minutes. Then we all retreat to our corners...until the following Monday:

(abbrieviated)

S: So do you just let her cry until she falls asleep?

Me: Well, yes actually...but we go in and check on her, and usually it only takes 10 minutes. You know (because you have babies, right?!) she's still getting adjusted...

S: We leave tomorrow for 5 weeks; I hope that's enough time for her to get adjusted!

Um...WHAT? Was that an ultimatum?!?! This coming from the woman who screams at her kids all day. I don't go up there and start freaking out because the toddler's tantrums are imposing on my relaxing breakfast! Are you FREAKING kidding me?

Hopefully the 5 week vacay will be good for everyone. I'll let you know when the For Rent sign goes up, and then we can finally get some decent neighbors!