I can still claim Sugarplum updates under Mommaday for a little while longer right?
Let me first say that, while I’ve kept a running tally of Sugarplum updates for myself, I hadn’t previously shared them on the blog. So we’re going to be covering a whole series of months at a time now just to get her caught up with her fans…
Beginning with this past Fall into Winter:
The week of 11/20 also brought along with it a new baby growth spurt that has the littlest one kicking and tumbling at regular intervals throughout the day. I noticed a couple of busy times on Sunday, but when I sat down at my desk on Monday morning the fun began with little kick-fests every few hours. The week before had also brought along with it a new little surge of nausea. Not bad, but every afternoon that week I was certain to find myself reaching for a quarter Zofran again. Which after a 3 week interlude from the need for it was noticeable if not troublesome.
Dear Sugarplum is quickly becoming a daily part of our conversations with the girls. Zuzu, in true Zu-form has taken to expressing her unabashed love for the sister she cannot wait to meet. I think it might be her best attribute; this kind welcoming of littles into our lives. When she was in her 2-year-old year she took to holding my hair back as I barfed on a daily basis. And if my hair was already up, she’d stand by nibbling her gummies and offer me one when I finished up! She often showed such loving kindness. In the evenings she would chatter on about the baby Quail, sing her lullabies and cover up my belly with her blankets. When her sister came home from the hospital it brought tears to my hormonally charged eyes to see her kind, cautious cuddles of the new baby. I’ve seen very little jealousy from that child in the past 3 years, her pure acceptance, and frankly- out-right requests for more siblings is such a joy. While the origins of Sugarplum’s in-utero name is a bit of a mystery, it couldn’t have been better timed. Last night we sat on the couch reading a Little Critter’s version of “The night before Christmas” and as we reached the page where visions of Sugarplum danced in those critter’s heads, Zuzu reached out for a quick snuggle of my belly. As the spring flowers have shown their floppy heads early this year she’s tacked on Chrysanthemum as her middle name, “Just like I have a flower name!” she clarifies with her heart-filled rationale. Each morning and night she whispers sweet nothings and greetings and wishes to this dear belly and tries in earnest to feel the responsive kicks from her not-so-little sister. The Quail seems to be going along with “the game.” She’ll grin and sign baby when I point to my belly, but I’m quite sure she thinks we’ve all gone completely mad in our having named and repeated crowings over Momma’s tum. Not to be outdone though, it’s become her quick little habit to hug and kiss my belly anytime Big Sis does.
On 12/20, I sat at my desk finishing up my morning coffee when what to my wondering eye’s should appear? But a quick little jab of an elbow from my newest little dear. In all seriousness though, I grinned like a loon down at my belly as I saw the first little pokes of her limbs push up through my incapsulated abdomen. What a treat! What a gift this little plum of a girl is for all of us. The funny part for the next few days has been looking up into the hall outside my fishbowl of an office to see a passersby trying not to stare at my giggling self as I watch her roam the inside of my belly.
Another little oddity with this pregnancy is that this little one seems to be taking me full circle around to my pre-breeder days. I remember my mother telling me that her feet grew in a permanent fashion over the course of her pregnancies. At some point between the girls I noticed that my left foot became a wee bit larger than my right. Not quite a half-size up, but enough that I couldn’t count on knowing if a shoe would fit solely based on its assigned size. Well the other day the strap on my everyday shoes broke off. So at lunch time in my 23rd week I made a happy run to ROSS for a cheap replacement. I perused the row of size eights and finding none, glanced over at the eight and a halfs. There was one pair, that was not only 8 ½, but labeled as wide that looked like a suitable replacement for my everyday shoes. I pushed my left foot in and realizing it felt a little lose started to put them back on the shelf, when I stopped to make sure my known size 8 foot wouldn’t fit the bill my jaw fell open. It fit even tighter then my left foot! I’ve a few more months to see if this is a permanent change or just temporary swelling, but I have to say it will be nice to have my feet measure the same size once again!
I’ve also had a noticeable change came to my pallet where previously I had sung the praises of the hoppiest of beers with a clear mind that someday Lovey and I would tour Belgium to indulge in their finest. Then along came Zuzu, and with her release from my womb went the love of all things hoppy. It was such a strange feeling to have a flavor I had come to identify with as tasty happiness turn bitter in my mouth. I couldn’t explain it, I mourned it and then moved on to sing the praises of the nut-brown ale. During Zuzu’s pregnancy, I had very few cravings- the only memorable one was for plain, crunchy ground beef and cheese tacos. Nothing that signified the coming change to my pallet of preferences.
When I was growing the Quail I remember continuing to enjoy those tacos, but that seemed a matter of course once again. Something expected as a natural part of pregnancy. When I saw the two little pink lines this time around, I wondered how many tacos I might consume in the coming year and then noted halfway through that I hadn’t craved a single one. Then on the day I turned 23 weeks a family friend sent me home with a beer that was “too hoppy” to enjoy for Lovey. I watched him pour it and declare it, “Not bad!” While he will drink a hoppy beer, it has never been his first choice, only his indulgence to his wife. So I ambled over to smell it and couldn’t help but take a quick taste. Then one more, and once again, what to my wondering nose should appear- but a happy, hoppy heady feeling on my tongue! Not the blasted bitterness of a vinegar cursed beer as I had come to see the hoppy Belgians. I see a celebratory Chimay in my springy future!
Now comes Sugarplum’s early gifts to her Poppa, while I generally find comfort in fairly bland food, this little one somehow created a craving for spicy. Specifically Indian food. From the buffet down the street from my work. Early on in the fall of 2011, I started a regular habit of begging Lovey and a good friend to come with me for a weekly meal or two. When that friend moved, I sighed and went in alone when Lovey couldn’t come routinely. Fortunately, that isn’t often the case. He takes his duties as impending father to a new life quite seriously and is more than happy to go with my food whims at the drop of a hat. Whether that’s a last minute call for the need for Indian food, a frantic on the way home from work call for him to find me a steak or the queasy request for all the leftover chicken in the house to be disposed of before I get home. Lovey has always loved Indian food and I’ve always said, I’d rather not to his invitations. What a little fence-mender this baby is!