Before getting pregnant, I imagined that, once I conceived, I would be
an earth mother fertility goddess: practice daily yoga, eat organic
produce, wear flowing garments of many colors, and consume no
chemicals, including caffeine. I would drink herbal teas and juices
from the rainforest. It didn't shake down quite like that. In the
exhaustion of the first trimester, for every warrior pose I did, I
also took a couch nap with the tv on; for every apple I ate, I also
rang the Taco Bell; and I've worn the same black target sweatpants for
going on 10 months now. But, I did not drink coffee. I did NOT - Until
the first day of the second trimester. I was working 14 hour days, and
it was just starting to get fall cold and I was driving into DC in the
dark. I got a venti vanilla soy misto, which contains about 10 ounces
of coffee. It was among the most memorably delicious meals of my life
(up there with the gyro near the Centre Pompidou. A tale for another
time.). It gave me a new lease, and I drank coffee nearly every day
since, though still not in the quantities I desired. I exercised some
restraint. And, my baby was a healthy size and perfect in every way.
The cliches about newborns and no sleep are no joke. We got maybe 3 hours
of sleep a night in our 3 nights in the hospital. Since we've been
home, it's been more like 7, which would be great if it weren't in 90
minute chunks. For a sleeper like me, this pattern is torture. At
the risk of sounding like a selfish monster, getting up in the dark
and cold to pump and feed the baby is a little bit of hell. I'm
working on my attitude toward this, and I'm putting it in the hands of
my higher power. The best time of day for me now is the morning, when
I'm fresh with the most rest I'm going to get, I can take my pain
meds, have some eggs and toast, and a cup o' joe from the French
press. Other than realizing again how blessed I am to have a perfect
daughter and wonderful husband, my coffee really is the best part of
waking up. The percocet isn't bad either.
of sleep a night in our 3 nights in the hospital. Since we've been
home, it's been more like 7, which would be great if it weren't in 90
minute chunks. For a sleeper like me, this pattern is torture. At
the risk of sounding like a selfish monster, getting up in the dark
and cold to pump and feed the baby is a little bit of hell. I'm
working on my attitude toward this, and I'm putting it in the hands of
my higher power. The best time of day for me now is the morning, when
I'm fresh with the most rest I'm going to get, I can take my pain
meds, have some eggs and toast, and a cup o' joe from the French
press. Other than realizing again how blessed I am to have a perfect
daughter and wonderful husband, my coffee really is the best part of
waking up. The percocet isn't bad either.
I've always associated your hand with an elephant since that time you made your finger elephant walk around a table. So, less crustacean, more pachyderm.
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