Category Archives: pregnancy

Just Like Starting Over

Posted on by Run DMT
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Yesterday, I ran another 4 miles and I am steadily improving.  WOOHOO!

 

4 Miles

357 Calories

Ave Pace 13:39

Max Pace 9:27

Time 54:34

 

Today, I registered for the Women’s Running Magazine 5K.  I’ve got about a month to really improve and get back into the game.  Truthfully, it feels just like starting over.

 

When I began running three years ago, I could barely run a quarter mile.  My good friend and running partner, Lori (now a virtual running partner/coach since she moved away), convinced me to stick with it.  “Anybody can run,” were her words.  “Run a bit and walk a bit.  You’ll get there.”

 

Lori twisted my arm convinced me to train for the Turkey Trot 5K Wingding even though I only wanted to run the 1 mile Gobbler.  She told me about Cool Running’s Couch Potato to 5K plan and Hal Higdon’s Novice 5K Plan which made a 5K goal more doable and attainable.  Runners can walk? It seemed like such an odd concept.

 

By following these plans, a once non-runner became an OBSESSED runner.  I was hooked and the rest is history.

 

But then I became pregnant and at seven months I was too big and too uncomfortable for any walking or running or wogging.  My running days would have to pick up after the baby was born.

 

Now, it’s two months after the birth of Baby Run DMT and I’m slowly getting back into the groove in more ways than one.  With my training, I’ve had to revisit those novice 5K plans because there’s a whole lot of walking to finish 4 miles.  Last week, I could barely run a quarter mile without having to stop to walk.  This week, I ran a half-mile (maybe even farther) before I needed to stop to walk.

 

In the beginning of my running days, Lori advised me to walk the intersections of our neighborhood, which is great advice that I’m following again these days. A five to ten second walk to cross the road is just the break I need to pick up my pace.

 

Since I didn’t have a Garmin, I don’t know what my pace was in the beginning of my running days, however, I believe I finished the Turkey Trot 5K in 33 minutes. It would be great to finish close to that at the Women’s 5K next month.

 

In our phone conversations, Coach Lori encourages me once again, “Don’t worry. You’ll be back at your old pace in no time. You’ll get there.”

 

But I think John Lennon said it best. It’ll be just like starting ooooovveeerrrr.

Any Day Now

Posted on by Run DMT
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By the sight of my belly button, I would say that Run DMT Baby #3 is about done baking.

 

 

The sight of my swollen feet is another sign that this baby is due to arrive any day now. Hopefully, I can squeeze another pedicure in before then, because I’m a little tired of looking at Nickelodeon slime green “Beach Sherbet” on my puffy piggies.

 

 

Any color suggestions for my toes?

 

Peek-a-Boo! We See You!

Posted on by Run DMT
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For my 36 week ultrasound this week, the whole family tagged along to sneak a peek at baby brother.  Allana was most excited since she has such vivid memories of viewing her baby sister for the first time five years ago.  “Remember how I knew it was a girl, Mommy?”

 

The girls giggled and laughed over the tiny 3-D image on the computer screens.

 

“He has our nose and Mommy’s lips!”

 

“We can see his boy parts!”

 

 

 

The ultrasound technician amplified his heartbeat for everyone to hear.  Emmalynn loved hearing and seeing his strong beating heart jump across the screen.  “Again!  Again!”  Emmalynn hollered out excitedly.

 

 

Although the scheduled ultrasound gave us a small sneak preview at Run DMT Baby #3, it also predicted the size of the baby.  Much to everyone’s disappointment except for me Thankfully, the U/S tech and my doctor predict under 8 pounds.  In fact, the doctor predicted around 7.5 (same birth weight as Emmalynn).

 

 

From the U/S, we learned that little baby brother has turned, but hasn’t dropped into position just yet.  The staff could also determine that my fluids and innards look good.  Apparently, the little guy is really happy in there.

 

 

But I think he knows he’s safe in there away from the loving cuddly arms clutches of his big sisters.

 

 

ETA: These photos were a collaborative family effort between Allan, Allana, Emmalynn and me.

 

PhotoStory Friday
Hosted by Cecily

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Juneathon 2010, End of Days

Posted on by Run DMT
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The last few days of the Juneathon have been the toughest for me. My youngest has been sick and her illness combined with my sciatica seemed to suck any and all energy out of me. Her ailments included her high fevers and a nasty cough, therefore, a visit to the pool with the girls was out of the question and I was unable to swim for sciatica relief.

 

Day 25 – After my accidental two mile hike on the beach, I barely had the strength to move on Friday. After a few laps in the pool, I was toast.

 

Day 26 – Thankfully, I felt much better on Saturday and I spent most of the morning treading water and swimming in the Gulf. I loved every minute of it.

 

Day 27 – On Sunday, we had to pack up and head back home, I could only fit in some squats.

 

Day 28 – My youngest was sick and the only exercise I got was carrying loads of laundry up and down our stairs.

 

Day 29 – Emmalynn still had high fevers off and on. I did some yoga for sanity reasons.

 

Day 30 – On the last day of the Juneathon, we went to a pool party today. I had hoped to finally get my swim on again, but the outer bands of Hurricane Alex foiled any pool plans. I suffered through a set of 50 squats instead.

 

I had hoped to have done a better job for this year’s Juneathon, but at least I tried. Unfortunately, my feeble attempts won’t score me any Vibrams. Should I play the pregnancy card? Do you think I will I gain any sympathy for my sore sciatica?

 

Probably not.

Warning: Groins, Feet and Tears Subject to Swelling

Posted on by Run DMT
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This weekend, my family and I will be spending time in Treasure Island with friends for our annual beach weekend getaway.  Since our other mini-vacations were canceled this year due to allergies and illness, Allan and I chose to turn our weekend away into a mini vacation and arrived at the beach on Wednesday.

 

On our vacation agenda, Allan wanted to take the girls fishing at sunrise.  I’ve never known my husband to get up at the crack of dawn and I was pretty impressed with his initiative.  Thursday morning, the girls woke up before the crack of dawn and their excitement and a cup of coffee was all Allan needed to get moving.

 

I tagged along to capture the moment in photos.

 

 

 

 

 

It seemed it was going to be a while before anyone caught anything, so I decided to take a little stroll along the shore for some shelling and to fit in some fitness for my Juneathon efforts.  Thinking I would only be gone for a little while, I left my flip-flops and water with Allan and the girls and headed south along the shore.

 

My shelling stroll quickly turned into a beach clean-up when I found several empty beer cans in the sand.  Finding the beer cans infuriated me.  With the blankets of oil arriving on the shores of Pensacola and the rest of Florida watching and waiting for the sludge to hit our shores, some drunken idiot must have interpreted the oil spill on our beaches as a landfill.

 

 

 

Even though bending over to pick anything up in the last few weeks of my pregnancy has been pretty painful, it felt good to clean up this small stretch of the beach.  After my mini beach clean-up, it was time to return to my family.  In the distance, I could see some hot pink and brown, so it seemed they were still casting away.  But as I came closer to their fishing spot, I realized my shoes and water bottle were missing and the hot pink person appeared further in the distance.  I assumed my family chose to try another fishing spot at the pier.

 

As I made my way to the pier to join my family, I chuckled how my husband left me barefoot and pregnant on the beach, but the morning heat was no laughing matter.  As I waddled along, I began to feel dehydrated and tired.

 

 

When I arrived at the pier, there were no signs of family but plenty of other signs.  I’ve never known groins to wave, but much like the Gulf, my pelvic muscles and my feet were beginning to swell.

 

 

It then dawned on me that my family must have returned to the hotel room.  After reading all the warning signs on the pier, I contemplated waving down Turtle Patrol or the beach police for a ride back to my hotel.

 

Swallowing down my tears, my cotton mouth, the pelvic pain, my aching bare feet and my frustration for not taking my water with me or my phone, I had no other choice but to begin walking back to the hotel room.  As I added the distance in my head, the numbers and the heat made me woozy.  Visions of headlines flashed in my head.  Passed Out Pregnant Mom Mistaken for Beached Whale

 

I passed a nesting sanctuary and I wished my own nesting had been sanctified.  Why didn’t I take my water?  Why didn’t my husband leave my water bottle? Maybe he did but some other self-righteous beach lover threw it away.  Why didn’t he scratch a note in the sand for me? I realized once again that my husband and I need to work on our communication skills since sand sketches and skywriting are out of the question although texting is definitely his strength.

 

 

I finally arrived back at the hotel two miles and two hours later swollen, overheated, thirsty, tired and tearful but much wiser.

 

 

PhotoStory Friday
Hosted by Cecily

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Juneathon, Day 9

Posted on by Run DMT
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I’m not sure, but I think Run DMT Baby #3 may have changed positions and slid into a head down position because swimming was very challenging today.  Usually, swimming brings me a much welcomed relief, but I didn’t get that wonderful feeling of weightlessness today.  Instead, the baby felt very low and I struggled trying to swim a few laps.  But I did it!  Phew!

 

After swimming, I did some bicep and tricep curls.  I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I been doing a lot of weight training lately.  See, my family and I have a maternity portrait sitting with my good friend and fabulous photographer, Kelly, this weekend and I thought it would be nice to have some sort of arm muscle in the photos rather than flabby, fat chicken wings flapping in the wind.  But who am I kidding?  In the photos, all you’re going to notice is the massive bump and not the “muscle” I worked so hard tried so desperately to sculpt.  Can’t blame a mama for trying, right?

My Ultimate Honey-Do List

Posted on by Run DMT
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With only 6 weeks left until the arrival of Baby Run DMT #3, the countdown is on and my husband’s honey-do list reads more like a scroll.

 

  1. Wine and dine me, minus the wine of course even though I could sure use a glass about now.  But as you know, it’s been a couple of months since our last date night.  Let’s squeeze one in before I squeeze out this baby.

    2.  

  2. Paint the nursery (formerly known as the playroom).  Truthfully, I want the entire house painted, because I am tired of looking at white walls and unfinished skirting boards.  However, we’ll start with one small request and maybe your inner Michelangelo will shine and then you’ll feel inspired to paint the rest of the house.  But, we’ll start with baby steps for the baby’s room.

    3.  

  3. Put the crib together.  Without a crib or a cradle, I fear he could develop a Messiah complex.

    4.  

  4. Buy a dresser for the baby’s room.  You know which one I’ve had my eye on, so be a dear and please pick it up on your way home from work one night or I will be forced to shop at IKEA and you know how dangerous that could be.  And I’ll leave the kids in Ikea’s free child care facility.  On second thought, I’ll buy the dresser.

    5.  

  5. Clean and tidy the office.  It should resemble a small office rather than air conditioned storage.

    6.  

  6. Sweep me off my feet.  There’s nothing more arousing than a clean kitchen floor.   A man with a mop is one sexy beast.

    7.  

  7. Plant some flowers in our garden because I do not find rock gardens aesthetically pleasing nor do they bring me much Zen.

    8.  

  8. Plant a tree.  When we first moved into our house, you planted a weeping willow in our backyard and for months, this beautiful symbol of our new beginning brought me such joy.  And then it died.  So, to celebrate my birthday and the arrival of a new baby (which are only a few days apart just to remind you), I am requesting a larger, healthier weeping willow.

    9.  

  9. Vacuum out my car.  I could probably feed Haiti with all the crumbs and droppings on my car floor.  Seriously, it’s like an-all you can-eat-buffet from what our kids couldn’t eat in there.  Gross.

    10.  

  10. Buy a car seat.  Otherwise, start saving for each night I am forced to stay in the hospital because no nurse will allow me to leave unless our baby is strapped into some infant seat.

    11.  

  11. And while you’re shopping, buy me a trinket.  Something shiny and sparkly to show your love and appreciation for pushing a ten pound baby and his huge head out of my who-ha.

    12.  

Thank you in advance.

 

Your adoring wife and mother of your children.

 

*Proudly submitted at*

Mama's Losin' It

Musical Monday: Lump

Posted on by Run DMT
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Thanks to the Juneathon, I’ve been feeling less like a lump these days. It was just the inspiration and motivation I needed to get moving again.

 

Since about 28 weeks, I haven’t been able to run or wog (walk/jog) and I’ve downgraded to walking, but even still there are good and bad walking days. On good days I can walk and complete a ton of tasks around the house. On bad days, I can barely move and when I do attempt to walk, I have to cradle my belly for fear that my uterus may fall out if I don’t.

 

And as if the fear of losing my uterus wasn’t enough, there are times when I feel like Dr. Kane with an alien life form trying to burst through my gut…

 

 

…because apparently Baby Run DMT #3 likes to stretch his feet against my sciatica and push his back against my stomach. Perhaps with all the prenatal yoga I’ve been doing, I’ve inadvertently taught him yoga in utero. Truly he’s learned yoga through osmosis because his downward dog makes me want to scream mercy.

 

Although mentally I feel less like a lump, physically my big ol’ baby bump looks more like a big ol’ lump. On the surface, you can see a hard lump across my abdomen and this solid, hard mass pulls people in like a giant magical glowing orb. No one can resist my precious and they simply have to touch it. Groping and prodding the lump forces Baby Run DMT #3 to switch positions and pretty soon there’s an elbow or a knee scraping across my belly.

 

Lump’s sudden and painful repositioning causes me to cry out every time.

 

Ow! OwOwOw! Owwwww!

 

Whenever his two big sisters hear me howl from the pain of an elbow jab or alien belly burst from Baby Brother, they howl with laughter and their beautifully evil laughter makes me giggle which I believe causes Baby Boy to giggle too. Oh yeah. My pain is a real gut busting, knee slapper for him. Good times.

 

This giggly kickboxing yoga loving lump better not get too comfortable in there.

 

 

Music Monday button

Juneathon, Day 6

Posted on by Run DMT
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Boy, yesterday’s sunrise special endorphin rush was shorted lived because today I could barely roll out of bed. However for the purpose of Juneathon and for the sake of my aching sciatica, I did 50 squats and 30 minutes of prenatal yoga. I also threw in some kegel exercises for good measure. Does that count?