Pregnancy - NonSoccerMom.com

AE’s birth story. 5 years, 8 months and 7 days after the fact.

NonSoccerMom — Thu, 22 May 2008 21:29:30 +0000

I am in an exceedingly foul mood today for a variety of uninteresting reasons. I had started a whiny, bitchy post that detailed each and every one of those reasons but I realized that it was just making me crankier and who wants to read a post like that anyway? So instead I have decided to challenge myself into attempting AE’s birth story. I thought remembering Miss T’s was hard – this kid will be 6 in September! Here we go:

The Scene: Saturday evening, September 14, 2002 – six days before my due date. N and I were in the basement of our Colorado townhome playing a riveting game of Scrabble. I started noticing that I was having a somewhat crampy sensation in my very large belly. Having never been pregnant before, I didn’t know if I was feeling contractions or just having indigestion, so we started timing the cramps. They were coming pretty irregularly, but started to get closer together so we opted to call the Kaiser Permanente after-hours nurse helpline. The nice nurse that took the call listened to my symptoms and said that since I was so far along it would probably be best to come to the hospital and get checked out. I grabbed my bag and off we went.

We were living in Golden – a western suburb of Denver (and home of Coors Brewery) – but I was set to deliver at St. Joseph’s Hospital downtown. The drive took about 25 minutes in the light Saturday evening traffic. We arrived at the hospital around 9 p.m. We were immediately ushered up to Labor & Delivery, where I was evaluated and told that I was not yet in labor. However, given the imminence of my due date and the not-so-close proximity of our house, I was given the option to walk the hospital corridors in the hope of kickstarting productive contractions.

So we walked, and walked, and walked, and about an hour later I was strapped to a fetal monitor and re-evaluated. It was determined that I was still not in active labor and I was going to be sent home. The nurse left for a few moments and I took the opportunity to unhook myself from the monitors and hit the bathroom. I finished my business, plugged the monitor cables back in – and within seconds the tiny room was filled with frantic nurses.

Apparently my movements had caused AE’s heart rate to drop suddenly and dramatically, and it was quickly determined that I would not be leaving the hospital without having the baby. I was moved to a different room, carefully positioned in bed so that the heart rate remained steady, and a Pitocin drip was started. By this time we’re pushing midnight.

The nurses decided that since I was probably in for a long wait I should try to get some sleep. I couldn’t get comfortable in the awkward position they had me propped up in, so I was given something to relax me. And relax me it did. The nurse asked me to count to five and I think I made it to two.

For the next several hours I drifted in and out of sleep and don’t really recall much. I believe N was awake the entire time, though. You can ask him what happened during this period.

At some point early Sunday, I was deemed dilated enough to receive the blessed epidural. I wasn’t really in too much pain yet, but it was still nice to watch the contractions on the monitor but not feel a thing. And since having had an epidural with Miss T I now have a frame of reference, let me tell you that they must have had the drug flow set to “maximum” because I was feeling nothing. No pressure, no pain, no legs.

As St. Joseph was a “teaching hospital”, I think every nurse, medical student and doctor came in to check me over the next several hours. I recognized no one. But I was past the point of caring about it, and since our particular insurance plan virtually ensured that I wouldn’t know the doctor delivering the baby it didn’t really make a difference anyway.

I was hardly progressing at all. Since I was confined to bed to keep the baby’s heart rate level, they went ahead and gave me the epidural at about 3.5 centimeters and once that was in place things stalled out completely. I couldn’t walk or do anything else to speed up the labor so I stayed around 4 centimeters for hours and hours. By late afternoon there was talk of a c-section. Timelines were discussed and consent forms were signed.

I’m thinking it must have been around 8:30 that evening when a doctor quietly pulled my husband aside and told him that if I didn’t make some progress within the hour it would be time. I didn’t find this out until later, because I was busy asking for my epidural to be turned up. It had worn off a little and I was getting uncomfortable. The anesthesiologist was summoned and the dosage was adjusted – without checking my progress. This turned out to be a mistake.

Right about that time there was a shift change and the night nurse needed to see if I had dilated any more before she prepped me for the c-section. To everyone’s great surprise, I had miraculously gone from 4 centimeters to 10 in the space of an hour. It was time.

A doctor was called, and I started to push. Problem was, since my epidural had just recently been upped I couldn’t FEEL to push. The nurse (whose name I can’t recall, but I do remember her saying that the other nurses called her Sarge and I could too) had one of my legs and N had the other, and they pushed them towards my chest to help me. The baby’s heart rate was dropping with each contraction and I had to wear an oxygen mask. Someone removed my glasses, and I was blind and the mask was making me panicky and claustrophobic.

The next hour was filled with desperate attempts at getting that baby out but he just wasn’t budging. I can’t remember clearly (probably because I couldn’t see a damn thing so I barely knew what was going on) but suddenly they were talking about forceps. And with that, all my birth “plans” were shot to hell.

I had wanted N to stay up by my head, out of the danger zone, but there he was holding up my leg. I was terrified of forceps and episiotomies, but here we were. Whatever. At this point it had been more than a day and I just wanted it all over.

So for a while longer I tried to push when they told me and I cried around the oxygen mask and the doctor was doing God knows what with those forceps and Sarge and N encouraged and coached me and at 9:35 p.m. MDT – it’s a boy! the doctor exclaimed.

We had opted not to find out the sex and I was absolutely POSITIVE that I had been carrying a girl all those months. I swear to you, the first thing I said was “It’s a WHAT? Are you SURE?” N assured me that yes, it was a boy, and we started to cry and I finally decided on a name.

AE was measured and weighed – and everyone in that room was astounded by this 8 pound, 15 ounce, TEXAS-SIZED baby. Denver babies are runty, apparently, and no one could believe his size.

Since his heart rate had been so erratic AE was bundled off to the nursery pretty quickly and N was allowed to go with him. So there I was, all alone, confined to the bed, epidural wearing off and major hunger coming on. Eventually a nurse brought me a sandwich and it was the best thing I had ever tasted in my life. Then a little later that same nurse helped me out of bed and that was the worst pain I had ever experienced. Thanks to the epidural I had no pain at all during the delivery but wow, once that wore off, OW does not begin to cover it.

Lengthy, uncomfortable labor, scary heartrate issues and forceps. All in all, a pretty miserable experience even if the outcome WAS favorable. Oh well. It gives me something to guilt him about later in life.

The post AE’s birth story. 5 years, 8 months and 7 days after the fact. first appeared on NonSoccerMom.com.

Miss T’s birth story. Finally.

NonSoccerMom — Wed, 21 May 2008 21:40:56 +0000

I was sitting on the couch ~~last night~~ this morning holding a drowsy Miss T when I realized that I never posted her birth story. N wrote his version of it ages ago, you can find that here. But I thought maybe I should record my interpretation of events for posterity as well, so here it is. You’re welcome.

I could not sleep at all the night before the induction – way too much anticipation, I guess.Â So about 4:30 a.m. I completely gave up and lay there staring into the darkness.Â Around 5 I got dressed and had N take one final belly shot for the scrapbook. We had to be at the hospital at 5:45 a.m. to check in, and my parents were there to stay with AE, so around 5:35 off we went. (The hospital is conveniently located right down the road.)

Once I got checked in we were immediately sent up to Labor & Delivery. My doctor wanted me on Pitocin by 6:15ish so that he could come break my water at 7:00. By the time he got there, the Pitocin was already taking effect and I was having some serious contractions. And Miss T had positioned herself on top of my bladder, so with every contraction I felt like I was going to pee all over the bed. I think that part was more painful than the actual contractions and I seriously started to cry at one point because it felt like I had to pee SO DAMN BAD. OW.

They weren’t too busy in L&D just yet, so the nurse kept coming in to check on me every 20 minutes or so. She tried to keep me calm through the pee-contractions and promised me that if I could make it until 9:30 she would send for the anesthesiologist. Somehow I managed, and by then I was indeed dilated enough for an epidural.

Once the epidural was in place, I felt so much better. Relaxed and happy and with the catheter I no longer felt like a horrible Pee Incident was imminent. My in-laws had arrived to take their shift with AE (so my parents could be at the hospital), and N met up with them long enough to take AE for breakfast at the neighboring McDonald’s. My parents and sister came in to keep me company while he was gone. N returned shortly, and suddenly the nurses came in fussing about Miss T’s heart rate. I was briefly put on oxygen and thankfully the problem quickly corrected itself.

My parents and sister went to the waiting room for a while, and it was just me and N again. I drifted in and out of sleep (thank you, epidural) for the next hour or so.

My family came back in to check on me around noon, and while we were chatting I felt a wave of nausea and the unmistakeable urge to push. For some reason, I didn’t want to say “I have to push!” and then be told I wasn’t fully dilated or something (I don’t know), so instead I just started telling N to get the nurse. Get the nurse, there’s something going on, get the nurse.

My parents and sister were shooed out and I was quickly checked. Sure enough, it was a go, so one of the nurses ran off to find my doctor while the others got me ready to push. I couldn’t wait any more, so they told me to go ahead and start pushing when I felt the urge.

It didn’t take long, and the baby was starting to crown before my doctor arrived. It’s funny the things that stand out in your mind – one of the nurses was setting out some booties for the doctor to put over his shoes. I clearly remember her saying that she also had to put out a chair for him otherwise he would fall over while putting on the booties. I found this very amusing, even through the intense contractions.

N was worried that the doctor wouldn’t make it, that Miss T would be here before he was, but he showed up just in time. A few more pushes and she was out at 12:23 p.m.

Nine pounds, eleven ounces of healthy baby girl. Yes. My little girl weighed almost 10 pounds, a full six days before her due date. I hadn’t been carrying particularly large and wasn’t measuring ahead of schedule so everyone in the delivery room was pretty shocked by her size. What can I say? I grow ’em big. AE was 8 pounds, 15 ounces when he was born and that was in Denver, where they warned us that a lot of babies are low birth-weight (due to the altitude?)and have to be put on oxygen immediately after birth.

After Miss T was initially evaluated and deemed healthy, N went down to the waiting room to deliver the news. Then family started to trickle into the room. My brother-in-law’s girlfriend came in just in time to see me puking into a plastic basin. I’m sure she was thrilled to catch that show, my sister certainly was.

After that brief instant of sickness, I felt much better and was able to give my new baby a bottle. Poor little thing was quite hungry – the nurses told me to take it away after 1.5 ounces and that did not make her happy.

Everything after that is a blur – family coming and going, getting moved into another room, etc. All the pictures from the day are over here if you are interested.

And now you know. That’s the gist of it anyway, my memory is less than stellar under the best of circumstances. In this case, there were drugs involved and almost 5 months have passed but I’m pretty sure this is accurate. Mostly.

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Special Announcement

The Modernish Father — Fri, 28 Dec 2007 03:13:42 +0000

Howdy everyone! NonSoccerMom’s husband filling in for her today with a special update – our baby girl arrived this afternoon!

Our “little girl” weighed in at a hefty 9 pounds, 11 ounces, making her the queen bee of the newborn nursery. Both mom and daughter are doing fine, and we’re all going to try to get a little rest now.

I’ll let NonSoccerMom give you the full recap when she gets home from the hospital, but I thought some of you would like to know the good news!

– The Modernish Father

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An update! But not the update you are hoping for.

NonSoccerMom — Tue, 25 Dec 2007 20:13:43 +0000

So, life goes on here at the NonSoccerMom-Modernish Father household.Â Currently, we’re spending a rather relaxing Christmas Day doing whatever we want.Â Usually we’re in the midst of extended family gatherings, but since the baby could come any day now we opted to stay close to home (and NOT host anyone at our house, either).

We’ve been busy the last few days, making final preparations for the little girl that should arrive ANY DAY NOW HINT HINT.Â Here’s a short (bulleted!) list of what we’ve been up to lately:

I hadÂ another doctor’s appointment -Â as ofÂ Thursday 12/20 I was dilated to “about 1 centimeter” and “beginning to efface”.Â So in other words, not much real progress.Â Â They had to re-check my blood pressure as the first reading was a bit high, and I tested positive for GroupÂ B Strep which means antibiotics during labor.Â Oh well.Â
N and I managedÂ to haveÂ one lastÂ “date” – we both got off work at noon on Friday, andÂ since AE’s daycare was still open until 5pm we decided to take advantage.Â We had a nice lunch at Boston’s and went to see National Treasure:Â Book of Secrets.Â (Short movie review:Â Good,Â but a little too long.Â Â A funÂ watch, definitely worthwhile if you like puzzle storylines.Â And safe for the kiddos with a PG rating.)Â
AE and his dad went to see Alvin and the Chipmunks on Sunday afternoon, giving me a much-appreciated afternoon to myself.
Our vacuum exploded on Sunday night.Â I was using the hose attachment and all of a sudden there was a loud bangÂ – the filter compartments blew open and the carpet height selector switch flew off, then the vacuum would only make a loud humming sound with no suction.Â IÂ called the local repair place Monday morning to be informed that the motor was blown.Â Awesome.Â I tend to be a bit anal retentive about vacuuming (I have a cat and a large dog that live in the house full time!!), and there was no way I was going to bring my new baby home to a house without vacuum capabilities.Â So we braved our local Major Discount Retailer on Christmas Eve to get a replacement.Â Any bets on how long a $45 vacuum will last?
The cat outdid herself on the bizarro displays of affection.Â I was taking a nap and had one arm stretched out to my side (to try and block her from getting in my face).Â She curled up next to my hand and after a few seconds, placed her paw in my open palm like she was holding my hand.Â She stayed like that for my entire nap!Â Freak.
We made cookies for Santa and drove around looking at Christmas lights last night.Â I think AE really enjoyed himself, I know I did.
And that brings us to today – and as previously mentioned we are having a super-relaxing day.Â It’s 2pm and I’m still in my pajamas!Â Woot!

So tomorrow morning at 8:45 I have The Appointment – the one that should tell us the plan for Thursday’s induction.Â Stay tuned, and have a Merry Christmas!!

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Still pregnant, still cranky

NonSoccerMom — Wed, 19 Dec 2007 22:01:29 +0000

Moan moan moan, whine gripe complain.Â And..fin!Â Seriously, that’s all I have.Â My sleeping situation seems to have worsened – I think I am officially too heavy for my own hip bones.Â And since pregnant women aren’t supposed to sleep on their backs, I’ve been trying to wedge a cushion under whichever hip I’m lying on to try and ease the pressure a bit.Â Which is about as graceful a feat as you can possibly imagine, so my poor husband has to deal with my flopping about (and grunting) all night long.Â Because of course as soon as I get even remotely “comfortable” I have to get up and go to the bathroom for the umpteenth time so then the whole process begins again.

None of my clothes fit anymore.Â The belly is so large that it is pushingÂ the waistband of my low-rise maternity pants waaaaaaaaaaaay down,Â and it makes me feel like the crotch of my pants is at my knees and my underwear is constantly about to fall off.Â Â Very few of my shirts are long enough to coverÂ the bellyÂ all the way, so I have been reduced to wearing the same three or four shirts over and over.Â Â And I am down to one (low-rise) pair of pants that don’t cause the belly to itch so badly I want to crawl out of my skin.Â For someone who loves clothes as much as I do, this is torture.Â Oh, and we won’t even mention the fact that my bellybutton has popped out, and if I want to disguise that at all I have to wear this one skin-tight maternity camisole under absolutely everything.Â Which means washing it constantly.Â Because I am always hot and sweaty.

At my doctor’s appointment last week, I was informed that the baby is still – to use the technical term – “sky high”.Â I have not dilated or effaced ONE LITTLE BIT.Â I go back tomorrow, maybe I’ll have progressed somewhat.Â For crying out loud, you wouldÂ think all these annoying-ass contractions were doingÂ SOMETHING.

Don’t you wish you were my husband?Â I am such a joy.

While I don’t particularly relish the idea of being in the hospitalÂ for ChristmasÂ or dealing with a days-old newbornÂ while my son is opening his gifts from Santa, I am so ready to meet my little girl.Â She is so lovedÂ and adored already, and waiting to meet the newest member of my family is just about to kill me.Â Come on, little one.Â We’re ready when you are.

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My cat is a moron (and other anecdotes)

NonSoccerMom — Wed, 05 Dec 2007 22:12:28 +0000

I’ve reached that point in the pregnancy where I am just all cranky, all the time. I’m trying really hard not to be such a grouch, but it is difficult when you are operating on less than 4 hours of sleep a night. (It is a cruel joke of Mother Nature that the extremely pregnant woman is robbed of anything resembling quality sleep in the last few weeks before a newborn enters the scene.) I mean really. How friendly would you be on so little sleep under normal circumstances? Now try that sleep-deprivation with a very active, almost full-term fetus squirming constantly in your belly, a backache, and a body temperature that always feels about 10 degrees above normal. Not so Pollyanna anymore, are you? ARE YOU?

I’m also cranky because of the damn cat. Now, I love my cat. She is a sweetheart, and about the most placid pet that anyone could ever hope for. She never bites, or swats, or even shows signs of irritation – she’ll put up with whatever AE does to her without a complaint. She adores all of us. HOWEVER. Sometimes she is so loving that I just want to strangle her. She won’t leave me alone at night because she always wants to be curled up as close to me as possible (this does not help the elevated body temperature situation I mentioned earlier). Case in point: the other night I woke up to the sound of her purring louder than usual, and when I opened my eyes I realized that it was because she was approximately 3 inches from my face. When she noticed that I was awake, she stretched out her paw and lovingly touched my cheek. I am not even kidding. It was the kind of gentle touch usually practiced by mothers of young children and people in romantic relationships. What a weirdo.

The cat also has a bizarre (and irritating) habit of eating the ribbons and bows off of gifts. I am aware of this habit, yet every single Christmas season I have to be reminded. This year the reminder came around 2:30 a.m. Monday morning when I heard the warning yowl. N heard it too but was too sleepy to do more than sit up and mumble something incoherent. I’m glad for the warning yowl, as it gives me a chance to grab the cat and fling her into the bathroom to keep her from puking on the carpet. (Of course, she then pukes on the bath mat, but hey. It fits in the washer.) Anyway, when I heard her yowling I got up as fast as I could and took her in the bathroom. Once she threw up, I realized that she had eaten at least a half-yard of red curling ribbon. And it was all in one piece, which means that she must have spent quite a while just patiently swallowing it a little at a time. EW. So now I have to crawl around under the tree taking all possible cat-choking hazards off of the packages.

So there you have it. This post doesn’t really have a coherent theme except The Pregnant Lady Is Cranky. But isn’t that enough?

Oh, wait, before I go, here is something funny. We celebrated Christmas with my family over the weekend (since the baby is due dangerously close to Christmas itself we’re getting it out of the way early), and after opening gifts we played a few rounds of Catch Phrase. AE played too, he actually did pretty well with giving clues for some of the easier words. During a particularly heated moment when various family members were all yelling over each other AE suddenly blurts out “DAMN!!” Everyone stopped and stared, and N and I were about to fuss at him when he follows up with “You know, what a beaver builds.” Hee. Nice save, kid, couldn’t have played it better myself.

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Pregnancy brain = no posts for you.

NonSoccerMom — Fri, 09 Nov 2007 19:24:58 +0000

Well. As usual, I wish I had a good excuse for my absence but the fact of the matter is that I just don’t have anything to say. Or maybe I do, but I just can’t remember what it is. This pregnancy has stolen my brain, and I just hope that it is delivered along with the baby in a little less than 7 weeks.

‘Less than seven weeks’, you ask? ‘But I thought your due date wasn’t until January 2.’ Indeed, but since I have already met my insurance deductible for this year due to the hospital visit detailed here, I asked the doctor if a slightly early induction would be possible to save me from having to pay an extra $500. (Selfish, I know, but she’ll be full-term by then and I can use that money to buy formula! Or diapers!) Not to mention the little detail that AE came 5 days early, yet still weighed 8 pounds, 15 ounces. And second babies are usually bigger! But I digress. My point is that I am scheduled for induction on December 27, assuming she doesn’t decide to come before that.

So anyway, things are moving along just fine. After the little hospital stay and subsequent bed rest (thank god it was only for about a week, my heart goes out to all those expectant mothers that have to endure it for months on end), everything has pretty much returned to normal. As we know it, anyway.

We finally purchased the car seat/stroller combo, got the pack & play out of the attic, and I have been sorting through the bins and bins of AE’s old clothes. Most of which I won’t use, as they are covered in pictures of footballs, trucks, and other manly things. N keeps telling me that the baby won’t care, it doesn’t matter what we dress her in, but I ask you this: how in the world can I possibly be expected to NOT dress my baby daughter in adorable pink, girly outfits just to save a little money? Answer: I cannot. End of story.

My sister is coming today to help me get the baby’s room finished up – we’ll get the brightly colored dots on the wall, put the sheets and such on the crib, organize the closet, etc. My goal is to have it totally finished by the time she leaves. And then I will have N post some pictures over on his Flickr account since I seem to have too much trouble trying to upload photos here. Am dumb.

Okay, then! After re-reading this entry it is rambly and boring, but it pretty much sums up my life these days. Imagine living with me. The excitement is neverending, I can assure you.

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Well, hello!

NonSoccerMom — Fri, 21 Sep 2007 21:57:21 +0000

Okay, you guys, I just flat don’t understand why I have been SO FREAKING BUSY for the last few months. Won’t someone please give the poor pregnant girl a break?

As you may have surmised, quite a lot has been going on around here lately. AE and I went to Disney World with my family, he turned 5 (!) and as I mentioned in my last brief post, we found out that we are apparently going to be adding a little girl to our family. None of that is what has kept me from updating around here. That would be due to the unrelenting flow of crap at my workplace. Whee!

Anyway, work is boring. On to the fun!

Disney World was a lot of fun but I do have to admit that maybe 5 (well, almost) is right on the borderline of actually being old enough to go. I certainly wouldn’t want to take a child much younger than that, so hats off to all you brave people with your toddlers. Of course, we did take AE when he was about 9 months old, but he mostly just slept in the stroller and didn’t have many opinions at that point. That was not the case this time, as he found things that he loved and insisted on riding repeatedly (Buzz Lightyear), and found other things that he did not like quite so much (Soarin’). And since he won’t ride in a stroller anymore, he got pretty cranky by the end of the day. Of course, so did I so maybe that’s unfair. To sum up: Disney World = fun. Hot Florida sunshine = marginally less fun.

So, moving on to other things: I am now the proud mother of a 5-year-old. I really cannot believe it. Where did the time go? I sound like my dad, lamenting the too-quick passage of time, but I truly am having a hard time grasping the fact that my little boy is not quite so little anymore. Of course, he does still need me to wipe his little rear end from time to time so there is that. Ha.

Let’s see, what else…oh yes. So, rumor has it that I am going to have a daughter to take care of in 3 1/2 months (give or take), and there just really aren’t words to describe my excitement. I have always wanted a boy and a girl (in that order, even) so it looks like things are going my way quite nicely. We do actually have a first name picked out but I will not be revealing it here…or anywhere – until she is born. My parents in particular do not understand why we are keeping the name a secret, but our reasoning is this:

We found out the gender this time which is more than you got last time around, people. Geez, greedy much? (By the way, if my husband had his way you wouldn’t even know the gender. He wanted to find out and not tell anybody but I knew there was no way I could keep a secret of that magnitude. Or keep from slipping up in casual conversation, for that matter.)
What if she doesn’t match the name we picked out? I’m very serious about this, but there seem to be several people who don’t see my point. (Hi Mom!) Something about all newborns looking the same. But really, we went to the hospital with AE and had two different names to choose from. He could have just as easily been LE. However, he just didn’t look like a Liam to me. So what happens if we’ve been referring to the baby as this name but then she is born and it doesn’t seem to fit her? I know it probably sounds crazy, but I am Crazy Pregnant Lady. Gimme candy.
Just because. We should get to have some secrets, right?

Well, I guess that about wraps up what has been going on with me. Of course, I am well aware that N has been keeping you pretty updated so I don’t feel too bad about my extended silence. By the way, that silence doesn’t mean that certain things have gone unnoticed…

Have a good weekend, everybody!!

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I think I might be dying…

NonSoccerMom — Tue, 14 Aug 2007 19:35:41 +0000

of shock.

The ultrasoundÂ says I’m having a girl.

OH MY GOD.Â

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Time to place your bets…

NonSoccerMom — Wed, 25 Jul 2007 20:24:34 +0000

Okay, so here’s the deal. It’s hard to write a blog post when your life is as boring as mine. There’s just nothing to say! I work, come home, fix dinner, possibly take a quick nap, go for a walk with a friend, then go to bed. And, end scene.

Seriously, folks, my life would make the world’s most boring movie. However, I am looking forward to one rapidly approaching event: the Big Ultrasound has been scheduled for August 14. Any guesses on whether this baby is a boy or a girl? Frankly, I’m quite sure that baby #2 is a boy, much like baby #1. However, this is not based on anything scientific (or even any old wives’ tales) – just a feeling I have. Of course, I Had A Feeling that AE was a girl, so who knows. In case you would like to have some fascinating factoids on which to base your guess, here’s what I can offer:

I have been a lot sicker this time than I was with AE. Horrible nausea all through the first trimester, along with some actual (although thankfully not constant) puking. I never actually got sick with AE, just (very) mild nausea, and just in the mornings – and it was easily cured by a few Saltines. This time it was an all-day deal that could not be shaken (except by the Phenergren my doctor finally prescribed). Bleh.
I haven’t been nearly as hungry this time. During the first trimester with AE, I woke up every single morning at 4:30 or 5 absolutely starving to death. I would get up, eat a few crackers, and go back to bed. That only happened once with this pregnancy.
I am having horrible headaches about every other day, something I don’t remember ever happening with AE.
I was SO TIRED during the first trimester. N swears I was not this lazy while pregnant with AE.
I have gained 4.5 pounds so far, according to the nurse at my 16-week visit last Tuesday.
The baby’s heartbeat was 150 beats per minute when the doctor (finally!) found it on the doppler.
It’s hard to tell at this point, but I seem to be carrying kind of high and definitely all in the belly. Of course, keep in mind that I am only 17 weeks along, but I can still easily wear a few pairs of my pre-pregnancy low-rise pants – fully buttoned and zipped! So I don’t seem to have gained weight anywhere else.
I am craving Mexican food like a maniac, but so far am not having beef cravings like last time (much to N’s dismay – I usually don’t eat beef and he’s been looking forward to it).
My cravings are in general usually for salty foods, not sweets.
Acne. Sigh.

So there you have it – anyone care to hazard a guess?

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