TMI?

I don't know what else to title this post. But fellow mamas of the world ... we've gotta talk.

When I was pregnant with Bubby, I had this strange pain that began around 30 weeks gestation. It first happened after a long day at a family member's wedding. We did a lot of walking and I wore dress shoes the entire day. So I chalked it up to that.

Chalked what up to that? I know you're wondering. So I'll just say it.

The Dreaded CROTCH PAIN.

That's right. Your eyes haven't deceived you. That up there is the word "crotch." You know, that place where your legs come together? Yes, that's the one.

The next day, I woke up with an excruciating soreness in my nether regions. It was like nothing I'd ever felt. I couldn't separate my legs without screaming. It felt as if someone had kicked me down there 100 times while wearing a steel-toe boot. Or maybe as if I'd been beaten with a baseball bat. Or at best, like I had ridden a horse across the entire United States the night before.

Despite the pain, I could still Google. I waddled over to the computer and after only a few moments, this is what I found:

Pubic bone pain in pregnancy is also know as Pubic Symphysis Diastasis. This is where, usually in later pregnancy, the hormone relaxin causes the pelvis, particularly at the pubic bone, to loosen. In general, this is a good thing as it makes birth easier for mom and baby. However, sometimes the separation is exaggerated and can become quite painful for the mother at the end of pregnancy or in the early postpartum period.

Followed by this lovely illustration:

So, that's what I had. An "exaggerated" separation of my pelvis! At least I was going to live.

This pubic symphysis diastasis made the end of my pregnancy especially difficult. Everything -- putting on pants, rolling over in bed, using stairs -- hurt like mad. If you wonder why pregnant women waddle, now you know.

And then. Well, you know how when you're about 38 weeks along and you're at your wit's end, trying anything and everything to get the baby to come out, the best advice anyone can give is to grab your husband and "get busy?" Well, imagine getting busy with a broken crotch! But I was so desperate to have my baby, I didn't care. Even though I feared my legs might actually separate and fly across the room during the course of the, um, activities.

Several moms I talked to lamented their frustrations about this little-discussed pregnancy phenomenon. But the ones who had multiple babies all agreed it started earlier with each subsequent pregnancy.

Oh. No.

And they were right. It's already made its debut this time around! Yes, my pelvis is now pre-programmed to separate when it senses a baby is in the vicinity. So, even though I am only 18 weeks along, MY CROTCH ALREADY HURTS AGAIN.

If you have had the privilege of bearing a child and didn't experience this horrific pain, consider yourself blessed. And if you haven't had a baby and this is the first time you're hearing about The Dreaded Crotch Pain, I apologize in advance. Maybe you will escape it. Maybe you won't. But if you don't, just know I feel your pain. Quite literally.

Bring on the ice packs and donuts (the little cushion ones upon which you place your buttocks. But the edible kind are welcome, too). We've still got 22 weeks left of this madness! But something tells me it'll all be worth it in the end. And it sure beats the headaches and nausea!

There's no wrong way to mother your child.

Perhaps you've perused the Blogopshere lately and noticed there are lots of "mommy blogs" out there. Moms that work, moms that stay home; moms that are conservative, moms that are liberal; moms that are "crunchy" and moms that are ... not.

Mostly, a lot of these moms like to make blog posts about how they mother their children and why it's the best way. I've never felt inclined to write a post like this before; I kind of feel like one's parenting style is personal and can't be categorized. And sometimes, the "right" answer for one mom might be the wrong answer for another. That's just how it is, I say.

I try not to care, but I must be honest. These preachy posts ruffle my feathers a little. Maybe they ruffle yours, too.

Here are some of the sentiments I've come across recently. They're not direct quotes, but they are real nonetheless:

C-sections are terrible, evil, money-sucking ventures which deprive a mother and baby from the healthy bond that occurs after a normal, vaginal birth.

Delivering a baby at home is the most irresponsible thing a mother could possibly do.

Breastfeeding is the only proper way to feed a child. If you don't breastfeed, you must not really love your baby.

Breastfeeding is a waste of time and only spoils babies. Formula is a wonderful modern invention, so you might as well use it!

If your kid sleeps in a crib, you are a terrible mother. Why won't you let your baby snuggle with you in your bed, you soulless monster?

If your kid sleeps in the bed with you, he's never going to learn to be independent. Plus, your sex life is probably rotten.

Staying at home is the best way to raise a child. Day care is pure evil. And working moms are so selfish!

If you don't go to work, you're going to turn into a brainless zombie. You're not doing anything to encourage women's rights, slaving away all day. You're basically just a nanny.

And so forth.

Did any of those tick you off? Probably. But, that's what some of the other moms out there are saying. True story.

I have a theory as to why women say these types of things. We're competitive. We always say men are the competitive ones, having arm-wrestling matches all the time and talking about their "sweet rides" and such. But we're just as bad when it comes to mothering. We like to be the ones with all the right answers. It's like this: My baby is happy and I am happy. So, I must have done something right, and I want to share my success story with the whole world!

Yes, you did do something right. You did what was right -- for you. But ... it might not work for other moms. Sorry to burst your bubble.

Now, I'm not going to sit here and tell you about all the mothering choices I made. Why? It's pointless. I'm not you and my baby isn't your baby. You've all got your own babies (or you will have your own babies someday). And when they're born, they don't come with instructions. They are basically darling little devices which cry at random intervals, and it's your job to stop the crying through various means. And you know what? You figure it out. You guess and check. You cut different wires until the bomb stops ticking. And the best part is, there's no wrong way to do it! As long as your baby is healthy and happy, you've done your job.

So, ladies ... don't worry about how other moms are doing the "mom thing." Motherhood is a journey. We're all on different paths, with different maps and different passengers in our minivans. And it's OK.

I challenge you moms out there not to criticize others for doing things differently than you did/do/plan to do. We mommas got to stick together! No more nitpicking and preaching. Just support each other! Motherhood doesn't need to be a battle of ideologies. We're all going to the same place, just by different routes.

It's a real belly now!

17 weeks never felt so good.

Well, it finally happened. I "popped!" My belly is now completely hard and cannot be sucked in. It's not just bowel displacement anymore -- it's an actual uterus. With a baby inside.

Anyhow. Things are getting pretty exciting in my uterus. The baby's about 5 ounces in weight now, and about 5 inches long. The size of a turnip, roughly. His skeleton is changing from cartilage to bone (the better to kick me with). And his sweat glands are developing! Don't worry, Little Guy. In about 14 years, you'll get a lot of use out of them (unfortunately). Good thing for deodorant.

I'm starting to wonder about this boy thing. I was putting away some of Bubby's old things and I couldn't resist cooing over all her teensy, sweet baby girl outfits, hats, headbands, and shoes. I completely adore all the sentiments that come with girlhood. Sweet pinks, soft, airy fabrics, bright colors, sparkles. Saccharine, sugary goodness that puts a smile on every woman's face. Every time.

What do you see when you go into the baby boy section at, say, Target? Blue. Brown. Green. Maybe orange. All in cotton. No frills, no fluff, no accessories. Yawn.

Dill, on the other hand, thinks there is nothing cuter than miniature Converse sneakers (he might be right about that one).

But more important than their wardrobe, I just don't get boys. Sure, I'll get over the clothing thing. But help me, Hannah! I don't know anything about little boy thingies. You know, thingies. Something I'll have to make a very big decision about just days after his birth! And how do you handle them when they get to that crazy, unruly, break-everything-in-sight stage? And oh, the sticky, icky messes ... you all know how well I handle those.

I grew up with three younger sisters and one lone twin brother. Girl stuff -- throw anything at me and I know how to handle it. Periods? Hair styles? Bras? Boy drama? Check, check, check and check. But what do you do when you get a call from a well-meaning neighbor who says your son was seen riding his BMX bike on the playground equipment at the park (true story)? Shoot yourself? Bless my mother's heart; she handled it like a saint.

Some people say you can tell girls are more complicated than boys by looking at their outfits. Remember -- boys: no fluff, no frills, no accessories. Doesn't even have to match, really. Comfortable. Easy.

This frightened future mom to a boy is just glad she has her mom on speed dial, because she knows relatively little about the male species currently residing in her womb.

Yes, I have man parts inside me. Oy.

Please tell me it's not as scary as I'm thinking it's going to be ...

Things I never have to do again.

I was reading another blog today and the author had posted a list of things she was glad she never has to do again. So, I'm going to copy her (yes, I'm a COPYCAT!!!) and do the same thing. Because why? Because I can. And I encourage all of you to do the same.

Ahem.

Ten Things I Never Have to Do Again (but could if I choose to):

1. Write a research paper.

2. Peer-review a research paper. Anyone who has had to do this knows just how bad it SUCKS. It's a lose-lose. If you rip on someone's paper, they get all offended and forever look at you like you're pond scum. But if you're too nice and they get the horrible grade they deserve, they blame you.

3. Walk (more like drag my sorry carcass) up "The Hill" at the south end of BYU campus.

4. Date. Yes, I still go on regular dates with my husband, but that's totally different than "dating." I don't miss that one bit.

5. Get married. Don't get me wrong, I had an enjoyable wedding. But planning a wedding in 2 months is stressful, and everyone was so high-strung over stupid things like flowers and decorations that I'm sure no one in my family really had fun. Being married is much better than getting married.

6. "Do it" for the first time. 'Nuff said.

7. Scrape ice off my windshield.

8. Drive around aimlessly at BYU while praying for a parking spot to magically appear.

9. Pay tuition.

10. Go to the Wal-Mart on University Parkway in Orem.

Mom the Intern Takes On the Two's

I don't really feel justified in calling it the "Terrible Two's" since Bubby is pretty much an angel, but ...

... as of Sunday, October 11, my baby is 2 years old!

I have to admit, I didn't want 2 to come. I liked 1. Sure, it had its challenges -- learning to eat, learning to walk, learning to talk (and Mommy learning to understand), teething, teething, teething, bumps, bruises, diapers ... but, 2 is going to have a lot more "fun" (and by fun, I mean challenges) in store.

Like potty training. Something I already tried to teach Bubby, but failed miserably. So I'm scared to get on that bandwagon again. But she can't wear diapers forever.

Talking is well under way, but talking back ... now, that's something I'm not looking forward to, either. Bubby is very obedient. Something tells me that 2 is the age when that changes.

Oh, and the quest for independence. Bubby has already started to branch out a little, like trying to walk in public without holding hands. But at the end of the day, I know she's going to come back to me and want Momma to hold her. I also know this won't be true forever. It's good for the little ones to learn to be autonomous, but ... I just want my baby to be my baby forever.

(pouty face)

But hey, in March, I'll get to start all over again.

Here's to the Two's. May they be as exciting and unpredictable as the One's (but with less poop, please).

Surprise!

I went in for my appointment yesterday, not expecting to do much more than pee in a cup and hear the baby's heartbeat. With Bubbers, my OB only did one ultrasound at 20 weeks to check for important measurements and gender. I did get an unexpected one at 13 weeks to check for multiples (I was measuring large and being a twin myself, there was a little bit of concern there), but Bubbers looked kind of like an alien and there was no way of telling the gender at that point, anyway.

Yesterday, however, the doctor informed me he would be doing an ultrasound. Exciting! I always love to take a peek at the baby. Since I am only at 15 weeks, though, I figured we wouldn't be able to see much -- just a flickering heartbeat and a general outline of a baby. I was wrong! As soon as the image came up, I saw the baby's brain, skeleton, ribs, spine, heart ... wow!

The doctor then asked if I was planning to find out what we're having. I said yes, of course. Then he said, "We usually don't check gender until next month, but we might be able to see it today if we look ..."

So, he moved the ultrasound wand to the other side of my belly, and I instantly began to giggle.

Not very modest, are we?

You can see why! (and in case you can't, we're looking at the baby's butt; his legs are up)

Yes, we're having a BOY! I kind of already knew, based on my intuition and the fact this pregnancy has been so wildly different than last time. It was fun to see for myself, though.

Dill is understandably thrilled. I am excited too, and a little nervous about raising a boy. But it will be fun to try something new!

Next month, we'll have a more thorough ultrasound to confirm this and get some measurements on the baby's organs and such. I'll have some better pictures then, I'm sure.

Guest blogging!

So, I'd like to start off by saying, if any of you really prayed for my headaches to go away ... IT WORKED. Sometime this weekend, I noticed they were subsiding quite a bit and I haven't had one since Saturday. I am so relieved. Second trimester bliss, here I come!

I was feeling so great, I even made these scrumptious orange rolls for a family brunch yesterday:

From Our Best Bites

Not gonna lie, these were tricky and a little scary. I've never felt comfortable making things that have to rise. But they turned out beautifully, as you can see, and they were a huge hit! They come from Our Best Bites, my favorite recipe blog ever. I've made several of their recipes and all of them turned out beautifully. Take a peek at their site!

Now. As you can see by the title of this post, I have been invited to be a guest blogger on a really cute, awesome blog -- How Not to Dress Like a Mom. I'm going to be the resident maternity guru, since I'm with child and know a thing or two about a thing or two. I wrote my first post today, so go check it out! I'll be posting maternity fashion advice every Monday for the next little while.

Also, today is my FIRST prenatal appointment this pregnancy! I am feeling a little nervous, since it has taken me so long to get to the doctor (we were in between jobs and insurance for the first trimester), but I am sure it will be great.

I'll leave you with my 15-week belly shot:

Please ignore the fact I am in desperate need of a haircut.

I am so lame at being pregnant.

Have you noticed how infrequent my posting has been since I got knocked up?

I am so sorry. The truth is, I suck at being pregnant. At first, it was the nausea and fatigue. Now, it's these wretched headaches that nothing can touch, except for Excedrin Tension Headache. But that stuff makes me a jittery nervous wreck; my heart starts racing and my legs get weak whenever I take it. So I try not to use it if I don't have to.

People say, "Oh, you are dehydrated." Well, I thought that might be it, too, so I started downing 10-12 tall glasses of water throughout the day. Didn't even put a dent in the problem. No improvement.

YES, I am taking my vitamins. YES, I am well-hydrated, YES, I am eating enough. YES, I have seen a chiropractor and NO, NONE OF THIS IS HELPING.

I am now a week into my second trimester. So really. This excruciating headache business can end any time now.

In other news, I have been invited to post on my friend Jae's amazing fashion blog, "How Not to Dress Like a Mom." I'll be guest writing once a week for Maternity Monday. I am so excited! So please, check out Jae's blog because it's awesome, and make sure you read my posts (even if your oven is not baking any buns)!

My Bubby just woke up from her nap. Gotta dash. Please pray for my headaches. No, seriously.