Times are Changing...

Well, I’ve had one of those weeks when one day I feel like I can run forever and then the next, I can barely do a 5K. Part of the reason, I believe, is the exponential growth I’m now experiencing.

This week, Baby Maxity has started to really kick vigorously. It’s a beautiful feeling – perhaps the best feeling in the whole world. And this morning he was going crazy. I was in a meeting and I had to catch my breath at one point! And sometimes, when I go to the bathroom I just lift up my shirt and watch my belly. Why read a book when I can just naval gaze?

However, this increased fetal workout only means Baby Maxity is growing and growing very quickly. I’ve also noticed that I’ve been eating a lot more calories than even last week! (This morning I contemplated getting two triple chocolate chip cookies, instead of the customary one.)

Times are changing on the road too...

Just last Saturday evening, I was able to run a 10k pretty comfortably. Last night I did a 5K and by the end I was really puffing. It wasn’t too hot outside, but I slowed to roughly a 6:49 min/km pace. My mind still wants to push, but my body is holding back. My body always wins out. But that's good.

After all, I am carrying very precious cargo indeed.

Keep running in there Baby Maxity. Your Runner Mama loves it.

Respect

Okay. This post has nothing to do with running or babies or running with babies. It has to do with respect.

As a preggo, there are some things that we tend to do most often. Going to the bathroom to relieve oneself is one of those things. And this afternoon, like on most afternoons, I ventured into the women’s bathroom. I walked into the second stall and was immediately repulsed.

For on this toilet seat there were three tracks of poo. As I type this, I’m trying to understand how this poo made it ONTO the toilet seat. Did the offender somehow miss? If so, wouldn’t she have noticed? And if so, why didn’t she clean it up? If you saw this appalling site, you too would be mystified.

I know it’s a public work washroom where most of us go about our business anonymously, but honestly, why don’t some people respect public spaces? Some poor unlucky soul will have to clean up this fouled stall because the anonymous offender didn’t want to do it. I know it’s just one women’s washroom, but I find this disturbing and extremely disrespectful.

And this suggests a larger problem. If this person is able to disrespect a common work washroom because of the notion of anonymity, how about the environment? How about her neighbourhood? This disregard for others is not only disgusting, but also shameful.

There, that's my rant for the day.

Trivialities

My friend Beth warned me, “Don’t buy too many things right now because, trust me, people will buy you a lot of stuff when Baby Max arrives.”

I know.

Watching my other girlfriends go through it, I’ve seen the booty they’ve received after their kids were born. Still I can’t help it. Right now there are many sales at big box baby stores like Carter’s, Bonnie Togs and Children’s Place. At one retailer, I got my entire purchase for 50 per cent off. That included about a dozen onesies, a couple of nighties and a pair of Robeez slippers, already on sale. The total bill was $30! I couldn’t believe it.

Most of the stuff I’ve purchased is more boy than girl. I know my 20-week ultrasound came back “Boy,” but sometimes I worry. What happens if Baby Max is a Baby Kai? What happens if the ultrasound techie was wrong? Still, I remember her certainty when she pointed out Baby Max’s penis.

I know it may sound very trivial, but honestly, I’m a bit concerned. The Internet is rife with stories about many couples who were told they were having a boy or a girl, only to find out in the delivery room that they were having the opposite sex. And lately, I’ve taken to making sure The B saw a tiny penis in the ultrasound.

“The B, are you sure you saw a boy happy?” I asked one day.

“Yeeesssss!” said The B. “Besides why would it matter?”

He’s right, it won’t. But right now, after only five weeks, I’ve already started to think about life with my son and have really started to bond with a “Baby Max.” I like the ring of “My son…” and the sound of “Baby Max Weatherhead.”

Ah well. These are trivialities I know.

Either way, a healthy child and The B and I will be proud parents just the same.

A Magical Time

According to my weekly email from Babycentre.ca, at 25 weeks, Baby Max now weights roughly 1.5 pounds and is approximately 13.5 inches long from crown to heel. Apparently studies show that he is now able to respond to touch and that if I shine a bright light on my belly, he will turn his head!

As I wrote last week, I’ve already begun playing a game of “Tag” with Baby Maxity. Sometimes, if he’s really busy, (running what feels like a marathon in my belly) especially in the wee hours of the morning or in the early evening, I’ll poke him. And he’ll poke right back. Yesterday I showed The B.

“Watch this,” I said to The B as I poked and prodded.

“Don’t bug him, he’s probably sleeping,” said the B.

“No, he’s busy right now…doing stuff, I can feel him,” I reassured The B.

I continued to poke away. To The B’s amazement, Baby Maxity then responded with two pokes.

“What the?!” he gasped.

Oh new fathers-to-be…so unsuspecting…so cute!

This really is a magical time indeed. And I hope it doesn’t end anytime soon. Looking at the Babycentre.ca pregnancy timeline, I’m about to embark on the third trimester. From all I’ve read, this ends the “honeymoon” or “golden” stage of pregnancy.

And from what other women have told me, it’s pretty much all discomfort from here: ankle swelling (Shrek Feet as my friend Jess says), sleep discomfort and fatigue. So far, I’ve been very lucky. I’ve had almost no nausea, no morning sickness, only mild bouts of fatigue and only a slight pain in my left foot when I run beyond 7-8K. I’ve had some cravings and acne breakouts here and there. Other than that it’s been pretty much business as usual.

And I’m keeping my fingers crossed, hoping it stays that way. A few weeks ago I chatted with a fellow runner who said that she ran the day she delivered for all her pregnanies. (She had three very good deliveries and has three healthy kids.)

Perhaps I’ll feel that fantastic when Baby Maxity finishes baking inside of me. I can only hope!

Another Clinic Finishes...

While western Canada melts in a heat wave, the eastern seaboard and Southern Ontario is waterlogged and cool. It’s a strange reversal of weather patterns. For a runner, this summer has been almost perfect. Yes, it’s no fun running in the rain, but ask my friend Cheryl (who’s known as Run Diva) and she'll tell you that a summer rain shower is much better than the blistering heat and humidity.

I agree.

And running on the weekend with my friend Jamie, we both remarked that this summer we runners have indeed been spoiled so far. Still, as a preggo runner, I religiously check the weather forecasts and keep my fingers crossed for rain or a drop in temperatures and humidity on days when I plan to run.

This week my friend, Baldish, and I finished co-instructing our 10K clinic. It’s so great to see so many of our group members achieve their running goals. Many of them wanted to complete a 10K under one hour. And they did that with more than five minutes to spare. I’m so proud of them.

Ten weeks ago when I embarked on teaching this second 10K clinic during my pregnancy, The B assumed that I wouldn’t be able to finish it and suggested I go in with a co-instructor. Well, I’m very grateful that not only was I able to finish it, but also was able to run with group members during their graduation 10K race on Saturday. And in the process, I made some wonderful new friends, like Steph and Jamie.

For the next 10 weeks, I won’t be instructing. Instead, I’ll be pacing another runner’s 5K group. It should be fun. At this moment, a 5K is pretty easy enough for me, but I know in time, as Baby Maxity continues to grow, 5K will become the new norm. This 5K clinic will take me to October 4 and who knows what state I’ll be by then.

At the first night of the clinic, Jeff, the instructor, asked us to send in our goals for the next few weeks. I have two:

1. To inspire new runners to accomplish their goals. If a preggo runner like me can do it, so can they.

2. To run until I no longer feel comfortable.

Chatting with my friend, Beth, she gave me some kind of indication as to what the next few months entail.

“If you think you’re big now, wait until the eighth month. I didn’t think I could get any bigger…and I did!” she said.

Well, this growth is now happening almost daily. Yesterday my colleagues Megan and Lauren remarked that “I look bigger than last Friday!”

Oh boy!

The Full Demi

Well, here it is.

A naked, pregnancy belly shot.

Actually, many of the belly shots that The B has taken of me have been naked. They're all tastefully and artistically done. And I know when Baby Maxity looks at them one day, he won't feel uncomfortable or squeamish seeing his mommy in the nude. This one is the so-called, "Full Demi" from above.

Apparently, back in conservative 1991 when Demi Moore, then seven months pregnant, posed like this for Vanity Fair, the edition was pulled off some store shelves. Now the uber pregnant magazine cover shot or "The Full Demi" pose is de rigueur for any artsy fartsy pregnancy photograph portfolio. And I love it. So do many other celebs like Britney and Christina. They've also posed "The Full Demi" for magazine covers when they were preggers.

One of the "must do" things that I read in a pregnancy mag while waiting for an appointment is to pose naked. Experts say it's best to wait until about seven to eight months pregnant, when a preggo is essentially in full bloom. Since the beginning of the second trimester, I've posed naked and watched my belly grow. I've said it before and I'll say it again: I think a pregnant woman's body is just so beautiful. And I say, why not show it off. It's a celebration of life and the promise of wonderful things to come.

Yesterday we celebrated our good friend's, Beth and Pat's, youngest daughter's first birthday. Baby Kate is so full of life, personality and spunk. I remember holding her the day after she was born. She was so tiny, vulnerable and so incredibly cute. A full year later, she's still so deliciously cute, but now, she's a tiny little person who's walking, kicking a soccer ball (her parents are both amazing athletes) and so extremely expressive. It truly is amazing what happens in the first few years of life. All this tremendous growth- this blossoming of life. Now, as a mom-to-be, this miracle is even more real and especially wonderful.

As one of the last of my closest girlfriends to have a baby, I've watched their children sprout. There's Jakey who just turned five; his little sister Sammy who likes to call her mom by her name, "Monika!"; Benny who'll someday be a pro-athlete, for at two, he does a mean soccer kick and already likes to take slap shots on his dad, Ryan; Lauren, big sis to Kate, who's a high-spirited and smart little girl; Jason who's as laid back a baby as you're ever going to get; and Charlotte, who's another deliciously cute one-year old.

A few days ago, The B watched Baby Maxity move what looked like his elbow across my belly.

"Look at that! I think I just saw his elbow," said The B, in obvious awe. "He really is moving inside there."

I'm getting very excited. I know The B is too.

Whitby 10K Race Report

During the Whitby 10K race on Saturday evening, I realized how much I actually like being pregnant. I'll get to that in a moment. But first, the race report.

Saturday was a crazy day in the weather department. The race was scheduled for a 7 p.m. start. However, only two hours prior, Mother Nature unleashed a torrent of rain. It was nuts. We had so much rain that there was mild flooding where we live.

In fact, the rain was so bad that at one point The B yelled, "Are you sure you should be running in this kind of weather?"

"Oh, don't worry, it'll clear up by 7 p.m. just watch and see," I said.

And sure enough, as if on cue, there was sun and cooler temperatures at the start line. During the first two kilometres, I felt great. I was running at around 5:30-5:45 min/km. By the 4K, I slowed to a comfortable 5:55 min/km pace and then by the 6-7K mark, I slowed further to around 6:00-6:15 min/km where I stayed until the end of the race. I ended up finishing in at around 57 minutes. Six months preggers and a 10K under 60 minutes, I'm pretty proud of that!

I didn't particularly like this course though. It was flat- which was nice - but there was a block that you had to make two loops around. Surely the race organizers could have been a bit more creative. There's nothing worse for any runner to circle the same place twice. It's mentally draining. And last night, I felt the fatigue set in and the race felt a bit challenging at around 6K.

It felt challenging for a few reasons. First, the double loop in the course and second...I just felt heavier and slower. I know I had done 13K a week ago, but like I wrote in an earlier post, my body is changing weekly, if not daily. And last night I just felt...well, pregnant.

But here's the part where I really enjoy being pregnant. While there are many things that I've liked so far during this pregnancy, the top two are as follows:

1. I LOVE feeling Baby Max move. It's by far the best feeling in the world.
2. I love the fact that my pregnant belly puts smiles on my friends', family's and even strangers' faces.

Last night during the run, I experienced this very phenomenon. As I looped around and saw my fellow runners going the other way, so many people smiled and said I looked so strong. A few even asked to make sure I was feeling okay. I also love the fact that when I run, some of my running buddies always ask, "How's Baby Max today?" It's really, really sweet.

I read one gal's comments about this in a magazine and she wrote that "Being pregnant has renewed my faith that the world I am bringing my baby into is essentially a good place."

I couldn't agree more.

Baby Refuseniks

All my friends who have babies have said that having children is the best thing they’ve ever done. I don’t blame them and I can sort of see, to some degree, what they’re talking about. After all, The B and I do have our fur baby, Ellie. And she brings us great joy and happiness. (Yes, I know, children are a little bit more complex, expensive and can cause greater destruction.)

This week, Maclean's profiles “Baby Refuseniks” and “The Case Against Having Kids.” Apparently, there's a growing minority of mostly married types who’ve decided to go through life sans enfants and are “celebrating the right to say no to children without being labelled social misfits or selfish for something they don’t want.”

Many of these folks say that they’ve chosen not to have kids because they currently enjoy their independence and feel that children will stress their marriages, pocketbooks and their sanities.

Okay, I tend to agree.

And while I feel that children can also enrich one’s life, I do respect these folks’ choice. I do realize the stigma they say they feel. After all, when I hear that a young couple has chosen not to have kids, I (wrongly) assume that they’ve been trying for years or I (wrongly) make a judgement call that they’re selfish.

Many of these Baby Refuseniks, including celebs like Cameron Diaz, have said that they just don’t want children. Period. And that’s a good enough reason. One woman said that one should only have children if they really want children.

I agree. But is this want enough?

I’ve heard some people say they want children simply because they think it’s the obvious next step after marriage. And I’ve heard many people in financially or emotionally unstable positions say they want kids without giving any thought to the welfare of the child. To me, this reasoning is selfish. And I think it’s much more selfish and self-serving than the so-called “selfishness” that Baby Refuseniks supposedly have.

Now, I’m not saying you have to be wealthy to have a child, but I do think that one has to give such considerations some thought when deciding to procreate. There’s no denying it, having children is expensive and emotionally taxing. I think it’s in the best interest of the child to have parents who have some grounding AND want to have one.

Six Months Preggers and On the Fence

I’m so tempted to sign up for some August races, but right now I’m using a wait-and-see approach. For I know that though I feel somewhat spry at this moment (well, as spry as one can feel at six months pregnant) this feeling can evaporate as quickly as the summer rains on the savannah.

As I’ve written in a recent post, running has taught me a lot about myself. One thing that I’ve learned (or reconfirmed!) is that I'm an A-type personality (duh!) and I’m very motivated by races. I love the pre-run excitement, especially the running expos and I love the finish line crowds. I love the feeling in my stomach on race day and I love pinning my bib to my shirt.

When I cross any finish line I (a) rejoice and relish the moment and then soon – very soon after – I (b) consider what I’m doing next in terms of races. This usually dictates my training.

I’m a self-confessed race junkie.

Pre-pregnancy, I raced a lot in the summer and ramped up for the fall running season. I often took a little break after a larger fall event, like a half or full marathon, then restarted light pre-season running in late November. I often registered for races months or weeks ahead to capitalize on the early bird fees.

Now as a preggo runner, it’s not that easy. I've had really great run days or some crappy ones where my feet hurt. Lately, I've waited to sign up for races the week of to make sure the weather is not going to be too hot or humid.

I hear planning and being organized is an important skill to master for new parents.

So I don’t really mind all this pre-race planning.

Sweet Tooth

It seems that my cravings have evolved. Instead of heavily lusting after fried foods and beef as I did earlier in my pregnancy, my palate now craves sweets more than anything. In fact, at a work function on Monday, I eschewed the beef entrée for the vegetarian option. As I recall, the only thing I really wanted on the steak platter were the potatoes. And everything else at that dinner paled in comparison to the cheesecake dessert.

Apparently, now at 24 weeks, Baby’s taste buds are forming. And believe it or not, this includes his sweet tooth. Some experts suggests that this may explain the sudden shift in cravings from fried and savoury foods to that of the sweet variety. Now the evidence may be mixed but this explanation sounds pretty good to me.

Last week, after a quick 6K run, I chatted with my friend Sue at the Running Room. She was taking part in a charity bake sale.

“Have you decided what you’re making?” I asked.

“No, I think I might bake a strawberry and rhubarb pie or...butter tarts, they’re so easy,” said Sue.

Instantly, my sweet taste buds awoke as if in a deep slumber. Butter tarts. Mmmmm.

“I want a butter tart,” a tiny voice inside me said.

Sue continued to explain about how easy it was to make the crust and the tart filling, but my stomach grumbled and I started to drift off. I started to think about how to procure a butter tart and how fast I could get my hands on one. It was like the Big Mac craving I had very early in my pregnancy.

I just HAD to have a butter tart and I had to have one now.

I had a sudden flash of an idea. I knew The B was grocery shopping and I politely excused myself to phone him.

“The B, can you please pick up some butter tarts?” I asked, almost desperate.

“Some what?” he asked.

“Some BUTTER TARTS!” I yelled into the phone.

“But the midwife said to watch the refined carbohydrates and sugars,” said The B.

“I know, but I NEED them,” I said.

My stomach grumbled again. Mmmmm, nothing beats a beautiful butter tart. They’re sweet and wonderful. And if you heat one just right, it melts in your mouth. But it’s not just butter tarts I crave. Lately at about 3 p.m. my stomach looks forward to a Tim Horton’s triple chocolate cookie. Yum! And yesterday, I gave into a couple of Laura Secord chocolates after work.

I really hope all these wacky cravings go away after Baby Maxity arrives…or at least I develop stronger willpower.

If not, I fear I shall become a human butter tart.

"Shoe Disciples"

Last night, my dear friends, Mark and Helena, joined my 10K running clinic and gave a chat about what motivates them to run. It was a very interesting, inspirational and motivating talk.

Mark and Helena are pretty active. But they started running in earnest more than six years ago after they realized that they became taxi drivers to their daughter who plays rep soccer. They needed their own athletic outlet.

In a few short years, the dynamic duo found themselves running marathons. Mark even qualified and ran his first Boston Marathon this year. Aside from the races, one of the other things that fuels their motivation to run is the fact that they are inspirational role models.

In a nutshell they are, as Mark says, “Shoe Disciples.”

In fact, all of us who consistently pound the pavement (or trails) in rain, snow and sunshine are “Shoe Disciples.” We runners are continually spreading the Good Word about our sport. We are, for the most part, ambassadors of a healthy lifestyle. I've read somewhere that less than 5% of the population runs regularly. Only 1% actually runs marathons.

Whatever the distance, we run because we can. And often we run because it’s hard. Let’s face it, why would any of us contemplate or even register to run a marathon? Quite simply, we run because we love the challenge and the lessons this sport teaches us about ourselves. Racking up the mileage we learn that if we work hard and are determined, we can achieve our goals. (One of my long-term running goals is to qualify and run the Boston Marathon and to some day run the Five Majors. But right now, 6 months pregnant with Baby Max on board, my main running goal is to run until I'm no longer comfortable.)

These are just some of the lessons I hope to pass along to my son. Frankly, I don't know if Baby Max will like running or even sports. But I do hope that he finds inspiration in watching (and in utero, feeling) his mommy run.

On the Door Baby...Bang! Bang!

In one scene of the sappy movie, “Terms of Endearment,” a youngish mother named Aurora, portrayed by Shirley MacLaine, attempts to rouse her slumbering newborn to make sure she’s still alive. While I laughed at that scene when I watched it, sometimes I feel like that youngish mother.

You see, when I don’t feel Baby Maxity move for a little while- like say a few hours- I get a bit nervous. I’m probably needlessly worrying. In fact I know I’m needlessly worrying.

I’ve been told that while the baby’s movements should become more vigorous as the pregnancy progresses, there will be some days when he’ll be a bit more inactive than others. Okay, here’s one similarity that Baby Maxity and I share already: some days I don’t have the same spunk and energy as others.

This morning, as I waited for the subway, I realized that short of feeling baby move in the wee hours of the morning, I hadn’t really felt him that much today. So I tapped a few times on my belly. Well, my tiny little “door knocks” prompted a response. He tapped right back! It was the neatest thing! I did it again. So did he!

Granted Baby Maxity doesn’t always answer the door when I knock, I still thought this little “exchange” was really cool. I know these experiences are helping me to bond with Baby Maxity – and it’s something that The B is still trying to understand. I know he’s trying to relate to the things I’m going through, but in reality, he can’t.

On one recent evening when Baby Maxity was particularly busy, likely practicing his flip turns (haha!) The B was taken aback when I put his hand on my belly. He felt all this movement- all his kicking.

“Wow, he’s really moving in there…what are you doing inside Mommy, Baby Maxity?” he said.

I know The B is a bit freaked out. But in time, I know he'll get used to all this activity too.

Mother Nature's Help

Seriously, this has been one of the best summers for running - especially "Preggo" running yet. There has only been one day so far, ONE DAY, when I've had to considerably slow down my pace to adapt to the hot and humid conditions. That was last Thursday.

My running group met that day with the plan to run an 8k to the lake and back. I had been dreading this run because of the heat. But as I commuted home, I figured that by starting at 7 p.m. we'd avoid some of the hot sun's rays and the humidity. That wasn't so. It was hot from the get go. With our goal 10k race a week-and-a-half away, this run was supposed to be a quick tempo run. However, we had to adapt to the circumstances. And this run became tedious and slow.

Like most runners, I tend to look at the weather forecast days ahead, planning my running week. When it comes to the weekend forecasts, I don't bother checking until about Thursday or Friday because Mother Nature sure has a way with shaking up long range weather predictions. On Friday, I was pleased to learn that it would be a cooler weekend than normal in my neck of the woods.

And this morning was perfect. It was about 18 degrees with a cool, southwesterly wind. The partly cloudy skies also helped to keep things milder than usual. When you're a pregnant runner, this is the weather you hope for. This is the weather you pray for.

Checking my running diary, last year, at around this time, the weather was 25 degrees, rainy and extremely humid. That day, my run was tough. Not only was I dealing with hot and humid conditions, but also an IT band injury. I remember my running group and I were training on part of the Scotiabank Marathon course. My left leg hurt so much that I couldn't complete the 23K run.

Today we ran a beautiful 13K run at about 6:32 min/km pace. It was fantastic. One of the runners, Ingrid, was so surprised when we finished because she said she didn't feel that tired. I felt energized and could have done more. The only discomfort I experienced was sore feet. I didn't feel the ants-in-my-feet sensation I felt a few days ago, it was just tired feet that are still getting use to my rapid weight gain.

I did peek at next Saturday's - race day- long range forecast for fun this afternoon. The experts say we're in for 27 degree weather. I'm hoping Mother Nature helps me out. I'll have to wait and see.

The New Reality

The new reality is that I'm now a size medium in exercise shirts and a size...10, yes, that's 10 in swim suits. My new Speedo does fit a little big, but there's room to grow. (Just as a comparison, pre-pregnancy, I wore a size 12...in girls' Speedos.)

When I pulled it out of the bag to show The B, he looked a bit surprised.

"Don't you think that it's a little big?" said The B.

"No, this suit will serve me well over the next three months," I answered. "Besides, I do need some expansion room. Baby Maxity is still growing."

I'm really finding this growth entertaining. I've never been so big and so...beautiful. I pinch myself everyday. I'm growing a tiny human inside of me. And it's simply wonderful.

This morning as I did a Warrior One pose in yoga, I realized that my once loose-fitting, technical shirt was really quite snug and my belly was playing peek-a-boo. I kept having to pull my shirt down. It was time to update my exercise wardrobe to include some maternity pieces. And now, after cursing at all those races that ran out of small shirts, I enjoy the fact that I do have a few bigger technical tees that are hardly worn.

Like my other maternity clothes, I don't want to pay full price on my new "maternity" exercise clothing. And I was in luck. At my local National Sports, almost everything was on sale. I got a new golf shirt, a pair of shorts and a Speedo bathing suit all for $50! I also did buy a new running top for 40 per cent off at the Running Room too. It was a bit of a splurge, but I can wear it for all the sports I do, including yoga. And it's super, super soft. You still gotta treat yourself!

The Complaints Department

Prunes. All-Bran. Broccoli.

These foods have become my friends. Yesterday, I experienced one of the minor, uncomfortable inconveniences of pregnancy.

Constipation.

The kids just didn't want to be dropped off at the pool! Apparently, constipation is a very common problem for preggos- one that I haven't really experienced until now. For the most part, pre-pregnancy, my diet contained a lot of fibre. As a vegetarian, (I have since fallen off the wagon) I ate spinach, legumes, beans and a few servings of vegetables daily. And combined with my exercise and running training, the ol' digestive system worked like a finely-tuned Swiss Watch. I was very, very regular.

However, it seems the increase in the hormone progesterone during pregnancy has contributed to a much slower movement of food through my digestive tract. And a growing Baby Maxity is also starting to put a bit more pressure on my rectum. The running is helping, but I guess my lack of hydration and fibre in the last few days finally caught up to me.

Yesterday morning and early afternoon was quite uncomfortable, to say the least. I felt bloaty and bitchy.

It was really starting to hurt.

To try to relieve the discomfort, I ate about a cup-and-a-half of All Bran and almost two cups of dried prunes. And I drank about two cups of water every half an hour. For lunch, I ate a bowl of spinach and for dessert, carrots. Yes, my colleagues looked at me in horror.

"Your trip home will be a disaster," said one colleague.

"You will pay for this," said another.

I guess it was a little extreme. However, it did eventually get things flowing again. And no, there was no explosion or accident.

Thank God.

Update on the Stroller

We did it.

We splurged.

Big time.

We bought the Bugaboo Chameleon. Ours will have a red basket and we did get the Paul Frank canvas. (There was virtually no price difference between the coloured fabric and this special edition one and so we thought, why not?)

At first, I was happy that we did it. Then I had buyer's remorse. How could we spend so much money on a baby stroller? And now, hours later, I'm really excited about Baby Maxity and his new ride. It really does rock!

Like many others who feel they have to justify themselves when they spend that much on a stroller, Baby Maxity will hopefully get years in it and every single mother and parent we spoke to- live and online - had nothing but good things to say about the Bugaboo. Also, I know this may sound lame...but the honest truth, this is really one of the only strollers that fit me. Yeah, yeah. I know. Lame excuse.

Of Ants, Itches and Labour Horrors

On Tuesday, while Baby Maxity rested in my womb, I had a great evening 8K run. We ran to the lake and back and finished the last few kilometres with the sun setting and the temperature hovering around 23 degrees. A slight, cool summer breeze topped the whole thing off like a cherry on a sundae.

The only thing bothering me when I run these days is mild foot pain. But it’s not like the pain of a stress fracture or heel spurs. It’s more like numbness…like there are ants in my feet. I felt that pain on Tuesday night at around 7K. This ants-in-my-feet-like feeling has only occurred a few times before and it’s very strange.

I'm also experiencing some burning and itchiness in my eyes during the day. I don't think it's allergies. Yesterday, I spoke to my midwife during our fifth month appointment and she said not to worry. She said these slight pains, aches and inconveniences are just part of pregnancy.

I really like our trio of midwives. We saw Rezvan, the small Parisien-Iranian one yesterday. She was happy to hear that I'm still running and was pleased with my weight gain, belly size, blood pressure and my most recent blood work. I love the fact that I can tell her my fears and she dispells them.

Most recently, a friend sent me a study that indicated that Asian women who have children with Caucasian men face a greater chance of having gestational diabetes and C-sections. (If we have to have a C-section, that's fine, but I'd rather have less medical intervention if possible.) Still, reading such information does cause me some distress and worry.

Rezvan slowly took off her glasses and said, "Why do you listen to such things? In my 25 years as a midwife, I've heard of no such study. Why do people tell you these stories?"

Personally, I don't know why. For the most part, people have not shared their labour horror stories with me...yet. But I never really understood why some people would ever do that to a pregnant woman. It's just sooo uncool. The whole process of labour, especially for the first time mom, is stressful enough, why cause more grief?

Honestly, if you have a horror story to share, please wait until after mid-November. I promise, we can have a fruity alcoholic drink with an umbrella and you can tell me how your variocose veins exploded in your vagina during labour. (And yes, that is another story a person told me.)

Savvy Aunties and other Impracticalities

Two colleagues in my office were blessed with babies this week--- well not their own. They became aunties. And as an aunt I share their joy. I have three nephews and one niece. With the exception of my youngest nephew, Aiden, the others kidlets – Noah, Levi and Lily – were part of our wedding party.

As an aunt I like to buy them stuff - often cute and impractical things. Now, as a mom-to-be, I've come to realize that all this cute and impractical stuff would almost never make it into to my shopping bag for my own child!

Here’s an example.

A few weeks ago, before I found out we were having a boy, I was in a downtown children’s boutique burning some time. I saw a very cute little boy’s Hawaiian shirt with matching shorts. I just had to buy them for Baby Aiden who’s turning one next month. The outfit is a 10/10 on the Cute Radar. But like all clothing for the under-five set, it has a very limited life span. In fact, I even mailed it to him early so he could wear it this summer! (Kate, my sister-in-law assures me that he probably might wear the shorts again next summer, though with his growth spurts, that's highly unlikely.)

And though she’s not my blood relative, I really like to spoil Baby Charlotte, the daughter of my best girlfriend. I’ve bought her slippers, hair clips and cute girlie clothing…just because.

And I'm not alone.

In fact there's a website called “Savvy Auntie.com” that has links to gifts and activities that most moms and dads would pass up. (There’s even a really cool Brum Pedal Car for $300 that even I would drive!)

I find it funny how, before I became with child, I often didn't think twice about buying the cute and impractical stuff for my nieces and nephews. Yet now, I almost always consider the practicality and lifespan of items for my own child.

Okay, there are items I want to buy for Baby Maxity that are a little pricey. But I do hope it doesn’t become the norm. (I have The B to help control the urges!) One thing I would like to buy for him is something called a BlaBla doll. They are beautiful, soft knitted friends for babies and toddlers and are only sold in those chic downtown baby boutiques.

Like aunties, I think mommies-to-be can be impractical too. If only sometimes.

Belly Dancing

Babies make me happy, especially now that I have one growing inside of me. And nothing makes more giddy than feeling, and now seeing Baby Maxity (our new nickname for him) move. It's truly a sensational, yet freaky experience. It really gives new meaning to "Belly Dancing."

Before dinner, as I lay down for a moment, I felt him move. I lifted up my shirt and then watched my belly ripple like the gentle waves of a rolling ocean surf. It was romantic and wonderful at the same time. However, whenever I yell at The B to come see, Baby Max rests for a moment. I tell you, it's like he's up to no good and doesn't want The B to see him!

Well, while Baby Maxity ramps up his "training," I'm starting to slow down even more. I call it a prolonged taper! The last few runs I've averaged roughly a 6:40 min/km pace, about 10 seconds slower than the beginning of last week. And a few days ago, I found myself breathing a little harder than usual climbing a few flights of stairs! I'm really taking this all in stride, but sometimes I do butt heads with the athlete inside of me. Still, I'm thankful I can still run.

A few days ago, my running friend Maureen said that a preggo came into the Running Room looking utterly miserable. Apparently, she was due around the same time as me, but much, much bigger. Maureen didn't know if she was still running, but assumed she was seeing as she was in the Running Room making a few purchases.

Yes, I've had bad running days since Baby Maxity entered my womb, but then again, pregnant or not, every runner gets those days when taking even one step forward just seems impossible. And speaking of steps, lately the very quick weight gain has resulted in a very slight pain to my left heel. It's not affecting my day-to-day life, but sometimes it does hurt when I run, especially when I begin to push 5K. I bought this cool contraption called an "Accuball." (It kind of looks like a cat toy, but is much harder.) And now during the work day I'm self-massaging my foot with it under my desk. It seems to be relieving some of the foot aches.

Last year, my one girlfriends, Janice, bought me a gift certificate to a local spa for helping to throw her a baby shower. You know, I really should make use of it and book myself for a prenatal massage - one that includes a foot rub.

Ohhh...that would be nice right about now.

Where is my hubby?

"My Mommy Runs Faster"

The day that I found out that we were having a boy, (I'm really hoping the techie was correct!) I ventured into one of the big department stores downtown just to...look at stuff. I just happened to end up in the children's clothing department and then the baby clothing section. All of this stuff was just so...cute. So tiny. So precious.

I began to look at boy clothing in a whole new different light. Before that day, I deemed that little girls' clothing is just wwwaaayy cuter than little boy clothes. Since I know that Baby Dubya is now a 'he,' I have taken a closer look at the togs for boys. And I was mistaken. There's a lot of cute things for little guys.

I found myself doing what I vowed I never would do: Look at the designer clothes. I couldn't help it. Something inside of me just said, "I want my son to look cute...and stylish!" I found the clearance rack, for I never want to pay full price for baby's clothing. In only a few moments I found a tiny Ralph Lauren polo shirt and matching plaid pants. I know Baby Max won't care, but at least he'll look cute! And at almost 60% off, the tiny outfit didn't break the bank.

And speaking of cute, when my friend Mombo found out we were having a boy, she ordered THE BEST little onesie I have ever seen. It's soft and just so in your face. I love it. Even The B, who normally doesn't get excited about baby clothing thought it was really cute. The nice touch was the tiny hat with my blog website address.

Baby Max will be a stylin' little dude!

Western Baby

They say it takes a village to raise a child. I tend to agree. In my case, I've also got a fabulous support network of female friends - a group of ladies that are bound together by something... purple.

You see, well before I laced up my running shoes and became a runner, I used to be a cheerleader. And I cheered on the best collegiate squad in Canada: The University of Western Ontario Mustangs. I must admit, the training was often quite intense and it was in my freshman year that I realized how much hill training can really test one athletically and mentally.

During the summer months during pre-season training, we used to run up and down the many hills surrounding campus - and trust me, there are many of them. I, along with many of my teammates can name them and then tell a few - mostly horror - stories. There was Brescia Hill (hellishly long and steep at the top); UC Hill (short and steep)...

There were even times when we pushed a van up a hill just for added "fun." When I look back at it now, I get nostalgic and long for those seemingly halcyon days. But in reality, it was very hard work and certainly the athletic lessons I learned cheerleading at Western, helped to pave the way for my current pain threshold and ability to withstand physical strain.

Though I loved the athletic training, I really enjoyed the friendships and bonds I made along the way. Now, these girls are all grown up: getting married, already married and having families of their own. Yet despite the passage of time and life's many events, many of us have managed to stay in touch.

There's Monika, Beth, Lisa ("Dust"), Amy and Jess (though she wasn't actually on the team, she was a self-proclaimed "Cheerleading Groupie"). Then a few years younger, there's Kelly, Nicole, Ashley ("Greven") and Suzanne ("Mombo").

It was the last gal, Mombo, who actually inspired me to run and has encouraged me since my very first 5K run a few years ago. It was Mombo who ran me in for my first marathon. She'll be passing one of life's biggest milestones late summer when she gets married to a great guy, Rich.

The beauty about having such a great network of girlfriends is the knowledge base. I have many veteran moms to call upon for advice and help. When he arrives, Baby Max will join the UWO cheerleading family.

I know Baby Max and I are truly blessed.

Left in the Dust

Unlike some pregnant women who undergo a period when food makes them gag, I've had no such experience and have come to look at food and eating as the highlights of my day. I eat, and am eating everything (it seems) with reckless abandon.

It's been months since I took my first steps off of the vegetarian bandwagon. These days, that bandwagon seems like it's passed me by: left me in the dust and is now far away in the horizon. (I vow to get aboard again postpartum.)

Last Sunday, my friend John cooked flank steak as part of the yum yums offered at his daughter's first birthday party. Man, he cooks a good piece of meat. I ate a generous helping, then digested in the shade eating chocolate birthday cake, like a lioness on the Serengeti after a kill. Yesterday, I treated myself to a delicious smoked pastrami sandwich from my boss' brother's deli. What a treat. Smoked beef never tasted so good. (I did nuke it for a few minutes to get it steaming hot.)

Truth is, if there's one thing I've craved from the beginning of this pregnancy, it's beef.

Boeuf. Carne di Manzo. Carne de vaca. Rindfleisch.

However I say it. Whatever language I choose. Beef has been my version of the stereotypical pregnancy cravings of pickles and ice cream. From a vegetarian standpoint, I do feel the guilt. After all, when I bite down into a delicious beef burger or eat a piece of flank steak, I first think of the poor cow that died for me and then remember how much Baby needs his iron. I know there are other ways to get this fortifying nutrient, but nothing is quite as satisfying, at this moment, than a juicy hamburger.

Well, from a vegetarian perspective, it could be much worst. After all, I could crave foie gras. Now that would be bad! Okay, the guilt has me. I'm going to make myself a spinach salad. Somehow, that doesn't sound as appetizing as a burger.

Wondering - Part 1: Toilet Training

In the last two weeks I've really "popped," literally. I've gained three pounds in a fortnight and have added an inch to my waistline. It's quite impressive if I might say. I almost couldn't believe it when I stepped onto the scale.

During these last two weeks, I've also come across some less conventional styles of parenting, particularly, in the toilet training and feeding departments. In the first year, since Baby spends most of its time sleeping, eating and pooing/peeing, I think I'm doing quite well!

Let's talk toilet training. I know The B and I won't have to start thinking of this for years...or will we? The garbage strike in my city got me thinking. Actually, my friend did. She has two wonderful little girls, one is two-and-a -bit, the other is 11 months old. With uncollected dirty diapers piling up, she's wondering if she should venture into the world of toilet training. Conventional wisdom says, "Go for it," with the older daughter, but wait a little longer for the younger one. But is 11 months really too early?

I started to wonder. What did mothers do centuries earlier when disposables didn't exist? What do mothers do in countries where diapers are a luxury? I did a little bit of research. I discovered some very interesting statistics.

A generation ago in Western society, almost 95 per cent of babies wore cloth diapers and were potty trained by 18 months. Compare this to today, when most don't venture out of pull-ups until well after three years old. Essentially, the convenience of disposables (which wick moisture from Baby's skin so they can wear a "wet" diaper longer without being able to tell it is "wet") and pull-ups (diapers that toddlers treat like underwear) have resulted in delayed potty training.

Then, I stumbled on something called "Elimination Communication." In lay terms this is infant potty training. I had never heard of such a term and was fascinated. Apparently, the first window for toilet training is from birth to four to five months. It involves a (very committed) parent to learn their baby's elimination cues - the signs and sounds their baby makes when it's about to go pee pee. It involves a lot of timing. The key, "EC" experts say, is to anticipate you child's needs and then make a watery sound like "sssss" to help the baby to associate peeing with this sound. This VERY committed parent is then told to hold their baby "gently over the toilet whilst making this 'sssss' sound."

Wow. That's a lot for a new parent to master, let alone a helpless infant. But apparently, in some households, it's been successfully done. I'm still very skeptical and also am wondering about the social lives of the parents who do this kind of, what I call, Pavlovian "Classical Conditioning." The sites and blogs I read about this seemed to indicate that success occurs when one or more parents commits to this. I can't imagine going to a party and then hanging my child over a stranger's toilet because the "timing is right."

The B and I are interested in cloth diapers and I think we'll give that a go. But I'm not so sure we'll do this infant potty training. Sounds like more work and worry when one is already sleep deprived.

In part 2, I'll venture into feeding. Speaking of which, I need to eat something. I'm hungry again.

Musings: 22 Weeks

According to the experts, Baby Dubya’s skin is quite wrinkled, yet his face and body are beginning to look more and more like a newborn. I’m trying to imagine this. All I can see is an alien wearing a baggy track suit. Apparently, his skin is so wrinkly because he’s got a lot of growing to do. He’s barely a pound. By the time he’s born we’ll weigh roughly seven pounds. He’s growing and so am I- despite how “small” I look.

Last night, during an evening run, I realized that my favourite running shorts – my Lululemon Speed shorts – are now starting to feel a bit snug. They’re not bike pants snug, but they’re definitely tighter. My shirt was also more fitting – so much, in fact, that one could tell that my belly button is no longer an “innie.”

I’ve realized that I now have to “manage” my closet. As Baby Max continues to grow into his skin; I’m growing out of my old clothes and retiring many of my old favourites to the back of my closet. There’s my fuchsia pink Banana Republic top; my aubergine skirt suit; my beige Aritzia summer pant suit – all have been retired for this season. Hopefully, I’ll be able to wear them next summer.

But I don’t mind.

The other day, one of my colleagues told me to remember the feeling of my baby kicking. It's truly a wonderful thing and always brings a smile to my face when I feel it. I’m starting to settle into somewhat of a routine: Baby Max seems to be active in the morning, while I’m still in bed, then again at around 9 a.m. He’s pretty quiet right before lunch, and then gets busy right after. Lately, I’ve started to feel his kicks after I run. And then he starts doing stuff around 9 p.m., before bedtime. Perhaps he’s doing his version of triathlon training. (Again, I’m envisioning an alien in a baggy track suit doing a “brick” workout. It’s kind of wacky.)

Last night’s run was another beauty. I ran a brisk (about 5:57 min/km) 6K run with my running group. I should have started slower, but the weather was just perfect: 23 degrees, low humidity and a light wind. Niiiiccce. Honestly, I’m waiting for the humidity to set in. But until it does, I’ll enjoy every moment.

In the August edition of Runner’s World, one of the runners profiled, another mom-to-be, says that running through her pregnancy “has been an invigorating experience.”

I couldn’t agree more. I'm blessed to be able to lace up my shoes and go for a run with Baby Max.

Bedtime Stories

By now, hopefully Baby Max can hear outside of the womb. Apparently, it's no longer quiet in his aqueous abode. So I’m really trying to watch what I say. I know he can’t possibly comprehend what I’m saying, but, if anything, it’s good practice for when he can really hear…and repeat everything.

My relatives have been quick to tell me stories about how their little ones have cussed or cursed. And when they heard a swear word from the mouths of their babes, they were not sure whether to laugh or scold. Of course, they erred on the side of scolding, though inside, I know they were laughing like a pack of hyenas on the Serengeti.

Anyway, back to my point.

Since Baby Max’s hearing has now hopefully developed to the point when he can hear sounds outside the womb, The B and I have started to read to him. But not to worry. We’re not the kind of parents-to-be who are planning to use flash cards of the Periodic Table of Elements or other methods to speed up the learning process and determine that indeed Baby Max is a genius.

We’re reading because it’s a nice bedtime activity we can do together and it helps The B to bond to his son. The B also plays his electronic drums while I dance like an African tribal warrior in our media room. I think Baby Max likes it. Who wouldn’t?

According to Baby Centre, some studies suggest a newborn will suck more vigorously when you feed if you read from a book frequently heard in utero. Well, we've started Baby Max's library. One of the first books we've read to him is Shel Silverstein's "The Giving Tree." (It's kind of a sad story!)

Since I'm planning to nurse, I'm already anticipating cracked nipples!

A Runner's High

Hours after I finished my run this morning, I'm still feeling the rush of a "Rave Run." Fortunately for me, (and unfortunately for those who love hot, humid summers) this weekend has been unseasonably cool. Apparently we should be sweltering in 27 degree plus weather. However, today it's only a high of 23 degrees in my neck of the woods. For runners, this is the perfect running weather.

And clearly, the Running Gods smiled upon me this morning: starting temperature of 18 degrees; cool, light breeze. We ran an 11K and it was awesome. I felt great. So light, free and seemingly invincible. I definitely had "Runner's High." As I was finishing up, in the last 2k or so, I remember looking down at my belly, thinking how small and light I felt, despite the fact that now my shadow clearly outlines the shape of a pregnant lady.

I know I'm truly blessed to still be able to do this. I ran into an old colleague on Friday. She just found out that I'm pregnant. She was very surprised to hear that I was still running, now at almost five-and-a-half months. For she said she had high-risk pregnancies and couldn't do anything close to running when she was pregnant. I'm not trying to be a hero. I'm just doing what feels good and for me, appropriate.

My running has definitely garnered some mixed-reviews- as I knew it would.

At a party on Saturday afternoon, a male Boston Marathon qualifier thought it was "very cool" that I was still able to run a 10K under an hour. And another female runner gave me the thumbs up this morning. However, others, mostly non-runners, find it very strange and almost unhealthy that I continue to do this. And as usual, I have to go on the defensive, quoting my midwife's endorsement and studies that indicate, really it's all good.

My race on July 25 will probably be my last 10K race for a while. However, I felt so good this morning that I may reconsider. Ah...the temptation.

We'll see.

Help! My Brain has gone to Mush!

A few days ago, at the beginning of a group run, a new member joined us. I started to introduce the runners individually, then, stopped short when I got to one friendly, smiling face.

“This is Jamie, Roberto and…umm…” I trailed off and let Jamie remind me what that runner’s name is.

“Stephanie,” Jamie said.

I blushed and apologized profusely. I was really embarrassed. I absolutely hate forgetting names, especially the names of people I know and see regularly. I tried to cover it up.

“Yes...er...Stephanie, she’s a very quick runner…and has really improved!”

Man. That was bad.

And yesterday, I forgot one of my colleague’s names that I should have known.

I think I have a case of "Pregnancy Brain." I had heard of this, but I thought I could avoid it. I started early in my pregnancy and wrote down everything. I had lists for everything.

I did a search online and found a quiz that helps “diagnose” this ailment.

In the previous two weeks have you:

Lost your keys? Several times.

Forgotten an appointment? No, not yet.

Forgotten your name? Thankfully not.
Stopped talking, you’d forgotten what you were saying. Lots of times.
Felt just plain fuzzy mentally. Sometimes.
Gotten lost driving on your own street. If I did, I’d have more issues than just pregnancy brain.
Forgotten names, particularly that of your husband, children or pets. Yes.

According to this quiz, if I answered "yes" to any of the above, then chances are I have a case of "Pregnancy Brain."

Apparently, I’m not to panic. The experts say most women become less forgetful at some point, post partum. Oh goody. Maybe, I’ll forget the pain of labour and the sleep deprivation that will most likely ensue when Baby Dubya is born.

Lessons on the Run

Last night, I led my running group on a nice 8K run to the lake and ended up running with a wonderful woman named Karen. She is the parent of two teenagers and one 20-something girl. They are great kids: Her eldest daughter is now a university sophomore at a top school, her middle son is an incoming freshman at another good university and her youngest is a high-achieving secondary school student. All of them are well-adjusted, amiable and confident.

Normally, I wouldn’t have thought twice about our conversation.

Normally, I would have just smiled, listened and just chalked it up to the type of stuff that you talk about when you go running with another person.

However, these are not normal times. And I now have someone inside of me running his own version of an interval training run.

As I peeled off my sweaty running clothing that evening, I began to think about parenting. I thought of Karen and how her kids all turned out. Then I thought about my mom and so many other “successful” parents. As a future mother, it dawned on me: the role of a parent is to raise offspring who are independent, confident and compassionate. Then I noticed a thing in common with most parents of these so-called well-turned out children: these parents make it look pretty effortless and easy – though I am fully aware, by the plethora of parenting books available today, that it ain’t always so.

Chatting with my mother and Karen, I also noticed key words and phrases that kept popping up: balance, listening to your kids, establishing routines and providing opportunities. And in my mom’s case, with one free-spirited girl and two twin boys, a sense of organization was a must.


All of this sounds so simple. But then again, talking to mothers of grown children is like chatting with an Olympic gold medalist after-the-fact: in all their success, they’ve often forgotten the hardship and struggles they endured along the way.

Rather than worry if I’ll be a “successful” parent, like my mom or Karen, I think I’ll take it one day at a time and try not to worry.

Though this is very hard for me.

21 Weeks

Happy Canada Day!

Astoundingly, Baby Dubya is now about 10.5 inches or 27 cm from crown to heel. It's hard to imagine that much baby in little ol' me. And apparently, his eyelids are now fully developed and fingernails cover his fingertips. He can now hear sounds and my voice.

I'm about halfway through the second trimester and am now loving it. Last night, I went for a nice 6K run with the group of runners I'm training. For the first time in a few weeks, I felt great. My calves and my left foot hurt only a tiny bit and I had a definite spring in my step. I knew we were pacing fast when I looked down at Garmin and saw a 5:05/km. To say the least, it was exhilarating. And though my belly button has now "popped," during most of the run, I felt like I wasn't even pregnant. Still, I do fondly recall last summer when 6K was a warm up and a quick tempo run.

Last week I finally caved and bought some maternity clothes. And surprisingly, I actually like the stuff I bought. My favourite pieces include the maternity version of "The Little Black Dress" and my new maternity jeans. They are awesome. I showed some of my non-pregnant friends. They jokingly said that they should get a pair for when they eat too much. The jeans are soft and very stretchy. Okay, I was wrong about maternity stores. Maternity clothing has come a long, long way. Now, preggos can actually look fashionable and feel...sexy.