Thursday, September 18, 2014

Theo's Birth Story, also known as "The Anglican Arch Bishop Of Bermuda Almost Delivered my Baby!"

The last time I wrote, I was complaining about still being pregnant and the false alarm we had after our abbreviated curry night.

I guess I spoke too soon.

My little guy was just biding his time.  He waited for the first day of school to make his appearance.
On Tuesday, September 2, 2014, I gave birth to a healthy baby boy - presenting Theodore Naeem Trimarchi - 7 lbs 5 oz, 19 inches.

Theo first pics

Sleeping soundly in a bassinet.  This was the last time I saw this happen.  He's now attached to my breast or sleeping next to me on a memory foam mattress.  The bassinet next to our bed has become a storage basin for all the bed pillows Jeff despises.

And then there were three.  Welcome to the world Theodore Naeem Trimarchi.

Then there were three.

Post delivery

I'm going to document Theo's arrival, so there is no confusion years from now.  I always make fun of Jeff because he wasn't there when I had to drive myself to the hospital to give birth to Mina.  That theme continues. 

This time, I get to make fun of him because once again, I had to catch a ride with someone other than my husband. 

I was lucky - the Anglican Archbishop of Bermuda and his wife, Fiona Dill (my midwife/doula) drove me to King Edward Hospital to deliver my child. 

It's a long story.

Get some popcorn.



Sleep during day, party at night.

Setting:  September 2, 2014. 


Kids are on their first day of school.  Two days of minor contractions and Braxton Hicks over the weekend have left me feeling very blase about the whole thing.  Convinced they baby is taking his sweet time getting here, I no longer worry about every little muscle spasm hitting my uterus.

Since I have three hours before pick up, I decide to get a head start on dinner and cleaning.  I notice some mild contractions, but they are nothing to write home about.  I ignore them and proceed to make chicken marsala with mushrooms.  Because what else would you make while you are in the middle of labor?  Except, I didn't really think I was in labor because I'm the idiot who has never had a natural labor before.  Both my kids were induced so I have no clue what labor even means.

After that, I look with dismay at all the thyme that is scattered on my floor.  I sweep and then for good measure, mop.

By 1:37 pm I decide it's finally time to take a shower.  (I'm being really precise because I am looking at my text history with Jeff to verify these times!  No claiming I am making this stuff up!)  Still some minor contractions.  I ignore and take a long, hot shower.  I even have time to put on makeup and do my hair!  It sounds more impressive than it is.  No one notices hair and makeup when you are 40 weeks pregnant and waddling around with a watermelon attached to your stomach.

Me texting to Jeff:  I think I'm going to take a shower.  Contractions about 7 minutes apart.

Jeff:  Ok.  Will come home after doctor.  (Jeff conveniently had a doctor's appointment of his own for a cough.)

By 3:02, I decide to jot off a quick email.  As I sit down on the couch, I am struck with a huge contrzction that doubles me over.  I text Jeff.

Me:  I'm calling Fiona (my doula/midwife).  Had a really bad one.

Jeff:  Ok.  Have her take you right away.  I will wait till kids are settled.  Caroline can come at 5:00

me:  Can you call Susie to get the kids?  I want you at the hospital!

Jeff:  ok

Me:  Or Christina.  Or call Jennifer Pettit and put them in aftercare for today.

Jeff:  I am in car line.  Will have them soon. 

(this is the part where I groaned in frustration.  The first day back at school is notorious for complete cluster feck of a carline.)

me:  You gotta get them out NOW.  Fiona is here.  I am in agony!

Jeff:  just go!!! 

The trouble is, Jeff did not realize Fiona had lent her car to her husband, the for mentioned Anglican Archbishop of Bermuda.  Damn you Bermuda with your one car per household laws!  He was next door at Price Rite doing some shopping.  Fiona thought she would be driving to the hospital with us.  She didn't realize Jeff would not be home.

So, she called her husband, who dropped everything in line and came driving over.

By this point, I was on the floor of my bathroom screaming in agony.

Jeff also pulled up and was bringing the kids into the house.  Mina heard me screaming and proceeded to freak out and dash off to her room.

Because we didn't have anyone to watch the kids yet, Jeff stayed with them while my midwife and the Archbishop drove me to the hospital.  Everyone else was also in car line picking up their kids!

I screamed and cried the whole way.  The Archbishop was very calm as was Fiona.  They have six kids, so they have heard it all before.

We arrived at the hospital at 3:40.

There were no delivery rooms ready, so the nurses asked me to lay on an examining room table.  I cursed her out in pain and demanded an epidural.

"We need to examine you Mrs. Trimarchi!"

"No!!  No way!!  I am not doing this without an epidural!!  I want my epidural!!!"  I think I may have put my head down on the table and started crying.

My very lovely midwife, who is just a peach, replied in her quintessentially British tone,  "Sorry dear, no time for an epidural."

Together, they heaved me on the table.

Once there, the nurse examined me and told me I was fully dilated.  My water broke instantly, and I started sobbing.

"You can push now, Mrs Trimarchi.  When you feel the wave of the contraction."

"I can't do this!!  I don't know how to do this!! I can't remember anything!!"

Jeff showed up somehow and started doing some ridiculous thing with my leg.  The nurse practically rolled her eyes at me and told me to focus.

"Mrs Trimarchi, you have two kids!  You know what you are doing.  Just push!!"

"You can do this Sadaf, you're so close now!"

In ten minutes, also known as the equivalent of three pushes, Theodore made his way into the world.

He was tinged blue.  At which point I started screaming again that he was blue, because I forgot that most babies are slightly blue at birth till they get oxygenated.

And then I held him, and my sobs were ones of relief. 

Ten minutes.  No drugs.  It was finally over.

Welcome to the world, Theo! 

And a special thanks to Fiona Dill, of Great Beginnings, and her very capable husband/driver, for getting me to the hospital in time.  I hadn't imagined ever using a midwife before, especially since this was my third child.  On the recommendation of a friend, I decided to give her a try because I was a wee bit nervous about delivering in Bermuda.  Ok, I was actually very nervous.  I missed the comforts of home and wanted to work with someone who was familiar with the hospital and staff here. 

I am so glad I did.  I shudder to think what would have happened if I hadn't relied on Fiona.  I suspect Theo would have been delivered on the floor of my dining room, which was the last place I was huddled over before she arrived at my house.

Tuesday, September 02, 2014

Baby 3 update


I've now hit the 40 week mark.  Forty weeks of being pregnant.  Yes, I am grateful don't get me wrong.  I know there are some who would do anything to be in my shoes.  I hope everyone who wants to be pregnant gets that chance at least once in her lifetime.

But for those of you who have been here, you know what I mean.

Can we commiserate for just a minute?



It's not just me. 

Jeff has been beside himself for days now as this baby decides whether he wants to come out "early" or not.  We had some false alarms over the weekend when I suddenly started having massive contractions in the middle of a restaurant.

Chancery st

No, these aren't the famous Georgetown steps from The Exorcist.  This is Chancery Lane, in Hamilton where a new Indian restaurant opened up.


This is the location of the former Fresco's restaurant.  Nothing would give me greater pleasure than to comment on how good the food was at Ruby Murrays.  Everyone at the table was raving about it (try the lamb chops!) Service was impeccable, and the menu looked solid. 

 Unfortunately, I decided to have a preggo moment.

It started out with the feeling of being incredibly hot.  No matter how close I could get to the AC blasting, I was sweating.  Like a flop sweat that just came over me.  Then I decided to stand up and go to the loo, to stretch.  When you are as wide as I am right now, you attract a lot of attention as you make your way between the chairs.  I tried to avoid the eyes staring at the belly.  Oddly, there was another pregnant woman seated by us who looked very concerned.  She probably had the same thought I did - get some spicy food to get the baby out.

After climbing up the stairs (warning for those patrons who will require assistance) I returned to the table and tried to eat something.  For whatever reason, I could barely eat a bite.  I had specifically avoided eating much during the day in anticipation of the meal, but my body was not cooperating.  I squirmed in my seat, unable to get comfortable as I began to notice the discomfort I was feeling was actually contractions.

I tried to ignore them, continued sweating, stood up again to stretch, walked around the foyer while concerned waiters shot me glances.  I got back to the table and told Jeff I had to go home.  Apologizing profusely to our friends, he walked me to Front St to hail a cab.

On the way there, I had to sit several times as contractions passed through me and I groaned.  The steps were not very comfortable.

Once in the cab, Jeff went back to the restaurant to settle up while the driver brought me home.  He asked me several times if I was sure we were going in the right direction.  "The hospital is back that way ma'am." 

"I'll be ok... get me home!  I have to lay down."

It was a very quick ride.

Jeff got home quickly and we began a long night of monitoring contractions.  My midwife was out of town, but had arranged back up who arrived and helped ease me through wave after wave of pain.  She drew a bath, massaged me, applied hip pressure to ease the lower back pain, and guided me through the crests of pain that ebbed and flowed.  After about two hours, I said it was time to go to the hospital.  I couldn't take it anymore, and I was in tears.

Once there, Jeff pulled up to the ER, because the main entrance where the elevator to maternity is located, was closed.  I don't know what happened to me, but I burst into irrational tears and refused to get out.  Jeff started screaming at me, but my mind was telling me this was the wrong door.  I didn't want to stand in line at triage while someone determined who should be seen first.  Having been through this process in the ER before, I just couldn't make myself go through it again in this state.  Jeff finally convinced me to get out of the car, and we were waived through quickly.

I got up to maternity, checked in, and was eventually put on a monitor.  And then the baby decided he was just kidding. 

Contractions slowed down, then stopped completely. 

THEY JUST STOPPED.  All those hours in pain, and they just stopped.

After an hour of being monitored by the nurses, and only being 2 cm dilated, I opted to go home and wait it out. 

From midnight to 3, he continued playing with us.  He gave us a few good contractions, then nothing, some minor little Braxton Hicks type things, then nothing.  He moved around to let me know he was still in there, then silence.

I passed out.

The next night (Saturday) was more of the same.

Sunday, I woke up well rested.  He hadn't moved at all!  I worried till after breakfast, at which point he woke up and began kicking.  He was having a little party in there.  Nothing warranting attention, just a little "Hi!  I'm still here," kind of uterus kicking.

Monday was another calm day.  The kids were back from the US and spent the day with Jeff at the beach.  I laid on the couch staring at my belly and half-heartedly folded clothes.  What was this baby doing??

It's Tuesday now, and my other two are in school.  I'm doing last minute things like adjusting the stroller, working out the mechanics of the breast pump I bought, paying bills, and organizing the meal plan for the next couple weeks.

I got some prep done earlier over the weekend.

Suvair Saran's meatloaf.  My absolute favorite.

Meal planning

Cook's Illustrated Simple lasagna - adore.

Meal prep

I just don't know what to think about these preterm labor contractions.  I've never been through this before with either Jordan or Mina.  Both of them were induced for various reasons, but neither was preceded by long nights of crushing pain.

Jeff has his own share of complaints.  Apart from the restless nights of me getting up, he is suffering through the coldest house in Bermuda.  I don't dare look at the Belco bill.  I just can't stop sweating. 


How he feels.


How I feel.

So tired.

Back to school - 2014/15

How can September properly begin without the annual back to school pic?

September 2014- Mina (3d grade/p4) Jordan (4th grade/p5).

P4 and P5 respectively, ie 3rd and 4th graders heading off to Saltus.  Excuse me for a minute while I admire the blinding whiteness of those polo shirts and white knee socks.  It goes without saying that they will not look like this by the end of the month.

The kids were less than thrilled about returning to school.  Both arrived back in Bermuda, late Saturday night after a week's visit to Grandma H.  They filled me in on all the details of their adventures and endless desserts. 



I guess it's hard to compete with fishing on a boat, hot chocolate for breakfast, blueberry cheesecake and water parks.  Thanks Grandma H and Michael!  We were worried this trip wouldn't happen after Jordan was hospitalized unexpectedly.  I'm glad you guys were able to reschedule and make it such a fun experience.

Wednesday, August 27, 2014

Bermuda snippets - Has the hurricane passed?

Woke up Wednesday morning to the first clear, sunny skies I have seen in days.  Is it possible the storm has passed us by?

I hope so.

Like a seasoned islander,  I prepared for all possibilities, stocking up on water, food, ensuring window shutters work, viewing what outdoor furniture needed securing.  I would say "stock up on alcohol" but since I'm still pregnant, I took that off the list. We had flashlights, candles and batteries. The car had gas, the outdoor grill had a full tank.

What I had no control over was what the recent weeks of rain did to our house.

Came upon this in the basement:


Rain water has been soaking through foundation and accumulating in the ceiling.  It all came down yesterday in a wet pile of grit and drywall. 

To the credit of the landlords, they came out this morning with a crew and immediately cleaned it up.  As the owner and the property manager of the complex battle it out with the insurance company, I am reminded that this isn't the first time we've dealt with ceiling collapses.

CC 004

This happened in 2006, while we were in our home in NJ. 

CC 007

Big chunks of this, soaked through from our attic air conditioning unit, collapsed the ceiling drywall atop our bed.

CC 002

Debris and reinforced concrete also landed on top of the bassinet, which was located right next to our bed. Luckily, by some strange fluke, I had kept Mina next to me in a different room that evening while I watched tv. Had she been sleeping at her normal time, that concrete would have landed right on top of her. 

Flash forward to this morning - thanks to the hard work of the homeowners, the mess is temporarily dealt with.  (On a completely unrelated note, I learned that as tenants here, we are referred to as "the occupiers."  That just makes me laugh.)


While I await more rain ahead. Hurricane Cristobal is bypassing us to the west for now.  Although rain is expected this evening.

Ripples on the pond still calm as the hurricane passes along the west. Fingers crossed.

I finally got outside long enough to give Oscar a walk and admire the Fairyland Pond. Little ripples drift across the water as the wind breezes through the mangroves and Palmetto trees.

Baby continues to relax as the final day approaches.

Monday, August 25, 2014

Awaiting Cristobal

Hurricane season continues in BDA.  These past two weeks have been such a wash out.  Rain, grey skies and wind continue to dampen the island.  Generally, living in Bermuda is a very nice thing - when the weather cooperates.  It is a veritable paradise of colors and sunshine and beautiful beaches.  When it doesn't though, it kind of feels like you are stuck on a rock in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean with no help in sight.

This week looks no different and we are currently tracking the progress of tropical storm Cristobal.  He may make landfall by this Wednesday with expected high winds of up to 50 mph.

That means the causeway to the airport is closed, electricity will likely be out and I will be a nervous wreck praying I don't go into labor.  I'm sure even if I do the hospital will manage the delivery just fine ... but for once I really wish I could deliver a child drama free.


Drippy window view from the balcony.

Friday, August 22, 2014

The baby's nursery - Beach theme.

They say "nesting" is one of the hallmarks of pregnancy. That, plus an enormous belly that sticks straight out and shifts around night and day of its own volition. With baby three, I've been in full nesting mode all spring and summer.

 I had hoped to get his room ready before August, since Bermuda summers are notoriously hot and humid.  That is draining no matter what condition your body is in.  I can assure you mine is in pretty miserable shape right now.

I only finished this last week, but since the baby is still not here, I am ahead of the game!

I failed to take any BEFORE pictures, which completely defeats the purpose of a redecorating post, but I know what it looked like. The only room available in our rental house was the one we were using as a guest room/office. It was a hodgepodge of mismatched furniture, drapes, and disorganization.  I hated it.

First step - picking a theme and color. I went with coastal/beachy as it seemed a natural fit for living in BDA.


The walls are stark white, which is not what I wanted.  Despite protests from Jeff (if we paint, we have to re-paint it white when we leave) it was time to paint - Benjamin Moore, Ocean Breeze. Pembroke Paint matched the color.  I found a painter via a friend's recommendation. Normally, I would do the painting, but I thought it best to avoid the fumes and step stools.

The say there's minimal fumes, but I still think there some.  Better safe than sorry.


The second big issue was storage. Having gone through the kid rodeo twice now, I know how critical organization can be. The room is relatively small, but it has a good size closet. I had hoped to either create a closet storage system or find a dresser, used.  Bermuda has a Craig's List type service called "Emoo" to resell items.  I've used it quite a lot to buy and sell things. I hoped I'd find something appropriate.

Closet storage systems that I liked were too expensive here and not worth the investment given we will eventually be moving when Jeff's work permit is up. Jeff was attracted to the cheap plastic bins that stack atop one another, which didn't appeal to me. So - the search for a dresser began. I kid you not that I have been looking since March.

I finally found this one at a consignment store. Its dimensions fit the closet, it was made all of wood, and I figured I could resell it once we leave the island. Resale is a big factor to consider as an ex pat.  It doesn't always pay to reship this stuff back to the states.  Apart from potential damage and cost, you have to think about how the furniture has soaked up the humidity and mold spores.  The last thing you want is bringing something back to your home in the US, that's releasing moisture and is warped and smells.

I wasn't expecting to find an enormous living cockroach in it, but such is Bermuda.  They are everywhere. It also wasn't cheap, like you would expect from a consignment shop, but I negotiated delivery down and saved Jeff the agony of throwing his back out again.  Plus, I knew I could make it work.


Cleaned up and defumigated, I think it looks lovely.  It has a lot of deep storage, so the baby's clothes can be organized by month while hanging items can be right above.  There's a lot of space on top for baskets to store blankets, wraps and bibs, as well as decorative items.  I may replace the knobs if I can find something more beachy.

There was also a bonus!


Unbeknownst to me, the dresser had a mirror that wasn't displayed when we saw it in the store. The shop owner sent it along with the delivery. I plan on using it in my daughter's room to create a vanity table. She's been admiring the very fancy one I have and promised we could create something for her. One more project to look forward to!


The walls were bare, so I pondered how to decorate them.  After searching for ideas on, I pictured framed shells/ burlap, bursts of orange to pop.  Luckily, while I was in the states, I spent a morning at Home Goods.  Beachy must be a popular theme this year because coastal decorating items stocked the store.  I bought two framed shells to bring back, baskets, and bedding for the guest bed.


The other major decor item was this canvas portrait.  I took this picture of Jordan over Easter weekend when we went kite flying on the beach.  To me, it encapsulated the best part of living on this island, and the colors were an exact match for what I wanted in the room.  I had hoped to find a place on the island to create the canvas in the dimensions I wanted, but alas, that did not happen.  So, onto Shutterfly - where I designed it and had it shipped to my parents house in NY (ignore the red shag carpeting in the room - that's their project to work on.)

While I was in the states, I picked it up, and brought it back to BDA as a checked item.  It was worth the duty we had to pay.


I also wanted something to personalize the room.  On Etsy, I found someone (Mangoseed) who creates hand made signs from beach driftwood and tin.  They are so gorgeous.  I got a Theo sign to hang right above the changing table.


This is the finished product overall.  The crib is a lent item from a friend.  The bedding is in the aqua/white and coral theme.  The guest bedding is from the Home Goods collection with some re purposed pillows.  The rug was ordered locally from Souza's.  They were fantastic and it arrived in less than 2 weeks.  Their customer service was top notch.   Drapes were ordered from Bed, Bath and Beyond as well as the shell finials that you can't see too well.  I tried to find locally, but failed.  Another duty item.  Sigh.  I also loved the wall decals of fish and coral.  Unfortunately, the walls in our house are textured concrete, so the decals do not lay flush the way I would like. 

Oh well.


Overall, I love this room.  It's bright and colorful and decidedly beachy - which I think makes sense given our locale. Unlike the nurseries I designed for Jordan and Mina, this one has no glider or such, but I can see myself using the guest bedroom to crash on when I have late night feedings or need a nap when the baby does.

The baby won't care what the room looks like, but I know I do!  Given how much time I expect to be spending in here, I think it's worth it to create a serene environment that makes us/me happy.

Thursday, August 21, 2014

Glimpses of summer 2014

Our pictorial summer.  Starting with my ever expanding belly.  Bermuda summers and pregnancy do not mix well.  Mental note to self.

Belly shot.

It was a milestone summer for other reasons too - both kids went to sleep away camp for the first time.  It was only a two week session, but it felt like a major moment for me.  Were they too young?  Would they be ok?  What if one of them got sick?  Would Jordan remember to take his medication?

Not sure if sleep away camp is something common in other parts of the US.  I grew up in upstate NY, and I can't say it was a big thing.  I did sports camps, but they only lasted a week or two.  Jeff says they are very common among the city kids he grew up with in Brooklyn. 

Everyone he knew went away for most of the summer.  Oddly he did not, but his mom confirmed that she did the same growing up.  My desire to do it stemmed first from wanting Jordan to have the gymnastics experience that he can't get here.  So when we discovered IGC, and realized it was in the Poconos, it seemed a no-brainer.  The challenge was finding a short program for Mina, close by.  I researched it, and we settled on Camp Lohikan, after getting some positive feedback from friends.

But, being the helicopter mom that I am, I felt it was important that one of us be in the US during the two week period.... just in case.


I packed.  A lot.

Camp 2014

They had fun!


Jordan had a fantastic experience at International Gymnastics Camp in Stroudsburg, PA.  He finally perfected his spins on the mushroom and got to meet other boys equally dedicated to gymnastics.  He met Olympic visiting coaches, got to stay up really late, and discovered the joys of a canteen account.

I had the briefest glimpse of what it would be like when both kids were no longer home. 


When they returned to Bermuda, it was time to try new things.  Mina spent two weeks sailing with the Royal Bermuda Yacht Club.  And Jordan spent one week playing golf at Tucker's Point.  After that, it was all gymnastics training with the boys team out in St. David's.  Every. Single. Day.  And to his credit, he did not complain once.  So proud of him.


Mina learns about the boats she will sail at orientation.



While the kids were in the States, I stayed on the east coast to be close by.  I got to hang out for a bit with my niece and nephews!  Shake Shack anyone?


One of our neighbors here in BDA left the island, and to commemorate, all of the neighbors bought a photo package as a send off.  Here are the Fairpoint kids hamming it up in the backyard (or as we say here - the garden.)


Mina's birthday was a big deal, and since it occurs the same week as her dad's, we spent the week celebrating.


Which obviously includes chocolate covered pancakes.


A slight blip in the radar occurred this week when Jordan came down with a bad fever.  It lasted so long, he had to be admitted to the local hospital for IV fluids and antibiotics.  Three days later, he was ready for discharge.  Thanks again to the fantastic nursing team we had at King Edward Memorial Hospital.  They went above and beyond. 

Two weeks left before school starts, and the kids are looking forward to one last adventure with Grandma H.


And I am looking forward to  something too.  Couple weeks left.....

Friday, August 15, 2014

Will I ever fit into my skinny jeans again?


Irony - rewarding yourself for maintaining weight loss by purchasing two brand new pairs of Rag & Bone skinny jeans while on vacation in NYC ... only to find out upon your return home that you are unexpectedly pregnant with baby #3.


Now into Month 9 of pregnancy, the jeans have been safely packed into storage for a future date.  I don't know when that date will be, but thinking about it makes me incredibly depressed.

After baby #2, it took me a LONG time to get to the point where I was really happy with my body.  I never aspired to be skinny, and I was always active, but for too long I was content to be a comfortable weight, rather than the best for my body. 

A couple years ago, I got more serious about it and stopped counting points (nothing wrong with WW program, it worked for me once, but I was in a different place in my life now) or calories (drudgery) and just changed the way I ate and worked out. 

I dropped the last few annoying pounds by adding more protein to my diet, limiting starches to once in a while, and eating more fruits and nuts for snacks.  Instead of focusing primarily on cardio (running miles and miles every week), I started working with a trainer who pushed me to focus on weights and using my own body as resistance training with bands and loads of squats and barbells to carve out lean muscles.  I got over the fear of building big muscles and weight gains, and realized the muscles I was building were lean and toned. 

I was finally fitting into anything I wanted to wear.  I maintained that for over a year and a half and it was never a struggle.  I had my treats on occasion, I enjoyed my wine and cooked relatively healthy about 90% of the time.  The rest of the time, I indulged on special occasions and only worried about the scale if it fluctuated beyond my comfort range.  If it did, I cut back a little for a week and everything was fine - the result, I am sure of adding more muscle tone to the body which burns off the extra pudge from a way-too-happy weekend.

Fast forward to today, and I don't even know where to begin. 

My weight is all over the place, which is understandable.  The healthy foods I used to eat - lean omelets, chicken, fish, big salads .. all make me nauseous.  I try cooking them, take a few bites and want to gag.  What's making me happy?  Pasta, bread, butter, chocolate, tomato and mayo sandwiches on hearty bread, yogurt, avocados and peanut butter..

I'm still working out, but on my doctor's advice, following some medical issues,  I had to cut back on any kind of strenuous workout - no heavy exertion, no lifting, no running.  So, that isn't leaving me with much but some dutiful treadmill walking and light arm weights.   I watch runners blazing down the roads, as I trudge along, walking my dog, and I feel so sad.  Some of them I know, and I remember being one of those mother runners .. training for a race, logging in my miles, comparing notes.   I watch in envy as people team up for health challenges at the gym, eying their numbers on the wall, watching them come in for classes and workouts I used to love to do. Sometimes I'm standing there at the gym, looking in the mirror wondering, "why bother?"

The only reason I do is because I remember how incredibly hard it is to lose the weight after the baby is born.  I still remember how long it took me to fit back into regular size clothing after I had my second child.  I had gained 30 pounds, which was fine according to my doctor, but 30 pounds on a 5' 5" body  with a short waist winds up looking like chub after the belly deflates.  I wore maternity clothing for months after! 

So, I keep going to the gym.  I walk on the treadmill and sit down on the benches for light arm work.  I watch my heart rate and make sure it doesn't get too high.  I don't exert myself on anything, and as a result, even walking up the stairs now gets me winded.  Now in the final weeks, all I can manage is floating around in the pool and kicking gently.

I'm definitely doing what I can to make sure the baby is healthy, but I really want my body back. And then I feel guilty for even thinking this, because it sounds so selfish - worrying about my weight when it's the baby I should be focusing on. I especially feel guilty because if you've had a child who was born needing massive medical attention, as I have, you know that all that ultimately matters is the baby. Trust me, I know that. But I'm still human.

I suppose all there is to do is try to eat as healthy as I can, and then give myself a break. The weight will eventually come off, especially since I know what I have to do to make it happen. It's about being patient, I suppose. Enduring the sleepness nights and somehow trying to find time to work out, eat less and not be exhausted from it all.

Sounds fun.