icecreamandhotsauce

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I’ve realized I’ve left out so far one of the most endearing things I’ve seen from Remy, and one that she never talks about. Every single night since the beginning of the pregnancy, she reads a book to the baby. It began with reading about New Jersey to puppy so that the baby heard about where his dad lives. Despite the unconventional way she is having this baby, she wants her child to know that he/she has two parents who love him/her. She has never faltered in wanting the families to connect and become one for the sake of their child, and I think that’s incredible.

Now, the bedtime stories have transitioned to Elpaca, Kvetch Who Stole Christmas, You Are My Miracle, and many others. Others have gotten to participate in this - baby daddy, her sister. The best part at the beginning was trying to feel the baby move while she read, and puppy totally did!

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Pregnancy brain is real. Remy has made fun of me for years now that I forget things easily, trip, drop things, and basically act like I’m a toddler learning to walk. Well now it’s your turn bud. Some of my faves:

Remy sat down to pee, flushed the toilet, and then realized she forgot to pee.

Remy left the house and suddenly thought she forgot the baby at home..

My least favorite:

Remy would start so many sentences, freeze, and forget what she was saying and have to think about it before continuing. You know that uncomfortable feeling in your stomach when you’re on top of a roller coaster waiting with anticipation for it to go over? Yeah that’s how it felt for me. Just spittt it outttt.

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Apparently a lot of moms have a sense of their kid’s gender from the very beginning. I don’t know what it was but Remy, the dad, me, and many others all knew from the start what puppy was. Her sister lives in Portland and was flying in for Thanksgiving and Remy wanted so badly to be able to do a mini-gender reveal at Thanksgiving when all of the family was together. It would have been early, but she was hoping at her last doctor’s appointment before Thanksgiving that they could find out.

One thing helpful to know about this OB office is that they had the most hilarious nurses. You heard them laughing in the halls and meeting to eat ice cream in the break room. One nurse spoke about her sassy son, Jayce, and Remy and her immediately bonded. Remy had pretty much narrowed down her choices for a boy or a girl at this point and that was on her list.

Fast forward. The doctor came in to do the ultrasound, and assured Remy that it probably would not be possible to see the baby’s gender at this point. Remy was even willing to pay to find it out sooner through the advanced test, just so she could celebrate with the whole family.

The doctor was talking and conducting the ultrasound and then we hear her say,

“Oop there it is! We know what is isss.”

“WHAT?????”

“Do you want to know?”

Remy yells “Yes!”

I yell “No!”

Remy starts frantically looking back and forth at the doctor and me, saying “Wait I don’t knowww”

I remind her about the gender reveal.

She finally concedes.

But by that reaction, we think we got a pretty good idea 😏 The doctor (and I) did not trust Remy’s impulse regulation skills. So, Remy goes to the front to pick up the envelope and they have sealed it with tape all over and staples it with SIXTEEN staples. Despite this, that bad boy was coming to my house to stay away from her late night wanderings. Don’t trust that face.

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One of the first real scares of the pregnancy came one night when Remy had a large white clot come out while peeing. Because this whole process was so unknown to both of us, she had no idea if it was the mucus plug, cervical mucus, yeast infection, or god knows what else. She hadn’t yet gotten involved with a regular OB that had on call ability. This led to both of us frantically calling ERs to speak to a doctor and then anyone we knew with a “medical” degree or a degree in being a mom. Shout out to all the people that answered our late night calls and text that night. What I’m seeing is how so much feels out of her control and that’s terrifying. Remy went back and forth in saying it’s concerning to it’s probably fine, as I saw her really trying to talk her self down. We were googling and sending pictures to anyone willing to analyze. Finally, we had a consensus that it was a yeast infection. But that was a restless night. I’ll save y’all from the picture.

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Ugh the things Remy would want to eat. At a bar, she ordered pickles, cheese, and sautéd spinach. She would eat peanut butter, cottage cheese, and ham for breakfast - separately, but still. I made this face quite often.

But puppy seemed to like it. Or else he’d tug on mom’s intestines.

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I’m writing this toward the end of the pregnancy and I’m remembering how we used to always think her belly was so big. And looking back at it, my god it was puny compared to how it is at the end. The moment at the beginning when she pulled out those maternal jeans, and they even looked like mom jeans. You know what I’m talking about. The straight legged not so tight jeans. Wish I captured a picture of that.

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The day came when Remy figured it was probably time to begin the registry. Remy and I had gone shopping many times together, but this one was definitely a trip we were inexperienced at. One, finding the right store to start - we thought we find the most conveniently located Buy Buy Baby, but we walk in and all of the baby stuff is literally in the corner of the bottom floor of the store, and not an employee in sight. I begin roaming the floor for anyone wearing a polo shirt who can help while Remy stares at the strollers, wondering where to even begin. Soon this shopping thing became fun again.

Wasn’t at the same store but had to add it in 😜)

We of course had to end across the street for a treat for me.

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Glucose y’all. It’s a thing. A very annoying thing. The nurse started warning Remy of high glucose levels early on during doctor’s visits. She would share how important it is to watch your diet so that sugar levels don’t rise and to prepare for the glucose test. Some background on why this triggered Remy so...because of the aforementioned nausea, Remy’s choice of food was out of her control. Puppy held the power. Whatever puppy told her to eat, she had to eat. And if she waited too long to eat, the nausea came back full force. So when the nurse told her to be careful with her carbs and sugar, Remy said “okay here’s the thing...” The nurse burst out laughing, hinting at how often this response came. She just nodded and ended with telling her she understands, but pay attention. We of course left and ate some bagels, without knowing what was to come with those levels 😩 this is how she felt about that advice at the time...

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The baby’s father couldn’t make it to the doctor’s appointments often so that meant Remy’s partner in crime got to go instead. I went to all of the appointments until third trimester, at first to provide support, but then just because I couldn’t wait to see that little flipping baby. Whoever has seen an ultrasound knows..it’s incredible right?? At 12 weeks, we got to see puppy flipping and putting it’s little booty in the air. This baby became more and more real at every step. Remy was on cloud nine. So was I. And we revelled in the fact that the nurse said this baby was “perfect.” Uh no duh.

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Remy never went through specific cravings. She just had intense urges like a rabid beast, as I think I’ve said before. But these urges change quickly. You were out of luck if you wanted to plan out what to eat for lunch for example. Remy went from wanting yogurt so strangely we roamed the streets of Brooklyn for a quick yogurt before a meeting to sitting in McDonald’s scarfing down cheese burgers. She went from craving cornbread to hearing the word cake and craving it so strangely that when she couldn’t find the supplies needed, I found her like this on the floor.

I frantically looked for a solution and then cautiously suggested she take a shower and see if the urge lasts. Thank god she got out of the shower and was open to some ice cream instead. Crisis sort of averted.

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Soo you know that fun fact that the first trimester is the worst because of all the nausea? Yeah that’s all lies. Remy had nausea well into her second trimester. She tried many techniques. 1) Getting up to eat immediately. Nope. 2) Have food by the bed to eat before sitting up. Nope. 3) Have a bag by the bed to puke in right away. That one worked a little longer. 4) Use a Tupperware - that holds more puke.

One morning I woke up to see Remy slowly placing Cheerios in her mouth while laying down - another technique she learned was to not sit up at all. She looked like she was slowly playing the game Operation with the Cheerios in her mouth. I told her how ridiculous she looked. She yells back, “don’t call me sensitive!” Soo moving forward when I heard her slowly munching on chips in the middle of the night, instead I would just jump out of my skin not know what that sound was and quietly keep my opinions to my self.

Guys the puking sometimes even happened out of nowhere twice in the morning. She got so skilled at it, she would give directions to me on how to make pancakes in the middle of puking.

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So when Remy first found out she was pregnant, the baby was the size of a poppy seed. Because we’re us..this slowly developed into calling the baby Poppy. Which then led to calling the baby Papi. Fitting since the dad is Puerto Rican right? Eventually we decided we sounded absolutely ridiculous. So the solution? Let’s call baby Puppy instead. “How’s puppy doing this morning?” “Is puppy hugging your bladder again?” I think it makes perfect sense.

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Early on, this poppy had his/her biggest cheerleader. One that has a flip phone that “needs” to be charged by being turned off and who gets around Philly on bike. Once he found out Remy was pregnant, Remy’s dad, Steve, immediately began reading Grey’s Anatomy and sent weekly emails documenting the baby’s development (as we argued gestational age versus fetal age with him nonstop). He was the first one Remy called to share her milestones of puking, crying over something ridiculous, and outcome of every doctor’s appointment. It was pretty incredible to see Remy and her dad become best friends over this.

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A monumental moment!! Her first puke!!

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Remy says that she hasn’t had any consistent cravings. She’s just had consistent moments of need for a particular food that mimics a ravage dog about once a day.

(Notice above. She couldn’t wait)

FYI folks, she literally ate two servings of my pudding and I got the rest. I’m enjoying these cravings too 😋

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As I said before, one thing I didn’t realize that came with pregnancy was the immense amount of fear and protection of your baby so early on. For the first three months, I had practically moved in. Remy was terrified of waking up in a pool of blood. Every day she checked a website that comforted her that the statistic of miscarriaging was decreasing by the day. I made a very bad joke one day impulsively about the risk of miscarriaging and that night, we found a Jewish prayer (baby’s a quarter Jewish) to reverse the bad juju I probably created. Now that prayer has to be printed and hung up for sure. What’s been incredible is the amount of support she has found from friends and strangers. She found an online support group for other women due at the same time as her and anytime she got nervous, I told her to go to the girls. Whenever they have a nightmare, they post. They compare bumps, exchange ultrasound pictures, and compare cravings and puke sizes of the day. Something I’m quite okay with not relating to at this point.

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Smell aversions are fun. My favorite perfume guys. I can no longer wear. I stepped out of my apartment to meet her and she goes, Eww what are you wearing. I can’t stand near you. She legit put her shirt over her nose the whole subway ride.

Same thing with burnt toast. She started screaming when my toast was burning. I run over in panic...please don’t kill me. Please don’t kill me. I pull the toast out and set it down on the counter and slowly walk away in fear. Only to realize I left the source of the smell right next to her. Needless to say I never made that mistake again.