Thursday, October 27, 2011

Totally on Purpose: How do you make a hormone?

Dear Baby TOP,

Today is October 26, 2011. Yup, I've basically caught up the letters to you with real time. This has nothing to do with me being super efficient in publishing and everything to do with me being super lazy about writing. You must already feel like a neglected third child.

In reality, though, you're likely to get far more attention than Elliott did when he was born. To me, the stress/energy level math seems simple:

(Newborn) + (5-year-old) + (7-year-old) is less than  (newborn) + (2-year-old with as yet undiagnosed communication struggles)

I say that now. When you come marching into the world (you will be marching, right? I assume #3 comes out potty trained and sleeping through the night...) I'm sure I'll be in for a rude awakening.

Given that I am done with feeling sick to my stomach, this second trimester business is pretty good. No. It's great! Wait, it's horrible and I want to punch you in the face!!

Let me explain....

The theory that hormone levels even off and mood swings aren't an issue after 13 or so weeks is a big, fat lie. I think I hung in pretty well in the first trimester, not really  being an emotional mess. But starting about 2 weeks ago I felt like I had the world's worst PMS. It was clear to me what it was but that didn't make it feel any better. Maybe I just groove in extremes, but I felt like there was no way I would ever, ever not feel like ripping someone's mother lovin' head off. On the other hand, this morning I was feeling very positive about the world and I felt like there was no way I would ever, ever be upset about anything ever again. Tra la la, let's all join hands and sing praises. I'm sure there's a clinical diagnosis for that... but since even as I have these feelings I know they are a complete sham I feel like I still have half a toe in reality. Maybe.

Another recent, ahem, joy of pregnancy is my complexion. Now, I've never been a lady with great skin. From the age of 10 I had zits. Lots of zits. And even before that I had some bizarre undiagnosed rash that would show up on my face and leave me looking raw and red and just horrible. After puberty it did get better but I was still prone to break outs. I spent many, many years dealing with the fact that I had very oily skin. I used all manner of topical ointments to kills the acne, usually with very minimal results. Then, a few years ago, I went and had a real-live facial by a real-live certified facial giver. (What's the word? anesthesiologist?...) Come to find out, I DON'T have oily skin. Come to find out I have really DRY skin. And really SENSITIVE skin. So, like, all that harsh stuff I was throwing on my face for all those years was, uh, totally bad for it. Duuuhhhhh. (I still don't get why I had so many zits if my skin was dry, but whatev, Bev.)

This is the product line I bought. Works for me

So, my skin was just flaming and painful a couple of weeks ago. We had to go to the mall and I made a big (for me) decision: I was going to go to a professional a get advice on what to use. (I'm all for subtle, below-the-radar vanity, but putting it right out there and saying "please, make me pretty!" is hard for me to fess up to. People should love me for my insides and all that crap, right?) I wandered into a nice salon that offered skin care services and the lovely ladies there showed me some products they thought would help. I was very honest with them and said, "Listen, I want my face to look and feel better but there's no way I can afford a whole line of products. What's the minimum I can get away with?" They were VERY kind and sold me just 2 items and advised I go to a pharmacy to buy witch hazel, since all toners are witch hazel-based.
Dat's da glow... I cropped out the pit sweat. But I can't seem to get the canvas the right size...

Within days my skin looked and felt a million times better. I even got a compliment from a internet pal on a photo I posted that I was GLOWING. I am not much of a glower on my best days, so to hear that after struggling with the nastiness was really great. (Come to think of it, it's protocal to tell a knocked up woman she's glowing, so maybe this was merely smoke being blown up my you-know-what. But, I don't care.) I think I look a lot better and thus I feel a lot better and DAMMIT, CHILD, HAND OVER THE CHOCOLATE!

Woops. Sorry about that.

Hope you're having a nice time in utero. I love you!

- Mom

P.S. I hear you're only supposed to weigh 6 ounces and I've gained at least 4 pounds. What's up with that?

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